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ellcrys · 3 months

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15 questions

Tagged by @itstimetodrew~!! Thanks for the tag!! ☺️

1. Are you named after anyone?

No, I don't think so! I think my parents just went through the list of baby names for girls and settled on Joanna lol.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Uhh... I teared up watching one of the episodes of Blue Eye Samurai a couple days ago but the last time I Cried was on my flight back to Boston last Friday rewatching episode three of The Last of Us lmaoo. (I was like SURELY I won't cry on my nth rewatch... #rip to me)

3. Do you have kids?

*Puts on my meme hat* What am I a child bride?

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Swimming and soccer growing up. I did ballet for like a year or two also when I was like 5. Since graduating college I haven't really done any sports, just working out at the gym pre-pandemic and then at home since the pandemic, although one of my friends is trying to start a pickup soccer group which I'll probs join if it takes off. Do want to get back into swimming again also. That's on my 2024 todo list. I've tried running as a hobby enough times to know that I suck at it and that I hate it lmao.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Does anyone not? lol

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm, probably their outfit; I enjoy seeing people's different styles!

7. What's your eye color?

Brown <3

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings!!

9. Any talents?

Ugh, no?? I can't think of anything lol. Being a procrastinator and the ultimate lazy bum (only half joking). idk man, I used to be proud of my writing and amv skills but I haven't seriously tried to write anything in probably a decade and I don't think I'm ever getting back into making amvs lol. Letting things go/being resilient maybe? I'm at the point in my life where everything is just 'it is what it is', but I think I've always been good at moving on from things tbh. Life's too short to dwell.

10. Where were you born?

Wisconsin of all states lol

11. What are your hobbies?

Nothing creative anymore, that's for sure (#rip). Uh, I love going out and doing things. I'm the furthest thing from a homebody so being trapped at home during the pandemic drove me nuts. Things I do on the regular include visiting independent bookstores, art museums, and seeing shows. I try to travel/see someplace new on the regular, whether that's going out of state/country or walking through a new neighborhood in the Boston area. I love eating, definitely a foodie. I read a lot (more fanfic than actual lit these days whoops) and watch a lot of tv. I also enjoy just walking around and people watching (will frequently walk around the neighborhood/city without any real purpose in mind as I go crazy if I'm cooped up in my apt for too long). I also love sending snail mail and exchange postcards monthly with a friend in London, and send holiday cards/postcards to family/friends when I travel. I guess documenting my interests on Tumblr can also be considered a hobby considering how much time I spend on here lmao.

12. Do you have any pets?

No, but I plan to adopt a cat when I (hopefully) get my own place!

13. How tall are you?

5'4" :')

I'd love another two inches... just two measly inches :')))

14. Favorite subject in school?

Growing up, probably math. I was good at it, and I loved how logical it was. I also really enjoyed chem, probably because it was the most math adjacent science (hilariously though, I hated physics). In college obviously computer science, my major. Though I've always loved my literature classes also.

15. Dream job?

Man I'd love to open and own an independent bookstore/cafe. Dream job for real.

Tagging (if you want!) @lordsardine, @goldshitter, @akechikurusus, @popflythesky, and anyone else who wants to do this!

#this was fun and it's been a while since i've done one of these so thank you for the tag!#only two weeks late lol #tagged

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har-rison-s · 5 years

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Run, Rabbit, Run

Request: I’m so glad you’re writing for stan!! could you maybe write a stan x reader where it’s when they are younger and it’s after the readers first encounter with pennywise and she’s freaking out so she goes to him for comfort? maybe including the babylove nickname because it’s canon and i love it!! thank you❤️

A/N: I'm glad, too. I love this one. I mean, okay, I say this about all the requests I get, but... that's the whole truth. I love all of them, each in their own unique way. I thought long and hard about the fear I could execute in this one. I've honestly also thought about what IT would turn into for me, but I can't 'decide' cos I have so many fears. I hope this turned out well and that I succeeded in making the fear... correct? Normal? Idk. My mom helped me with deciding the fear and how to execute it lmao. This was honestly hard to write. I've never written horror. Hope you like this, tho. Happy reading!

IT masterlist

main masterlist

warnings: horribly written fears and IT, panic attack

A Thursday afternoon in Derry High. Sun rays break through the long un-washed windows of the building, classrooms with thick air due to lack of air-conditioning. Quiet halls and classrooms. There's barely any soul in the high school left.

Y/N sadly got sick the previous week, so had to stay after classes to write a test she missed while sick. Her best friend Stanley was having piano lessons on Thursdays usually, enjoying the silence and the over-all deserted school building. He was the only pupil the music teacher taught piano, all the others uninterested or already good at piano. Most times Stanley even stayed until the sun started setting.

Y/N has just finished writing the test she missed out on last week and walks down the hall to the bathroom. She wants to change her hair before she leaves school today. Just get it out of the high ponytail and make a little one with the top half of her hair. A style that has suited her well her whole life. A signature hairstyle of hers.

She passes Stan's piano lessons class room and hears what he's playing very clearly. Anyone passing through this hallway would hear him playing, even from the other end. The music room has great acoustic in it. She smiles to herself and pushes the door of the girls' lavatory open, hearing its squeaks behind her when she enters the empty room.

A public bathroom in its natural element stinks horribly, but she still winces at the horrible stench. Even if she's got used to it by now.

Y/N carefully puts her bag down on the floor, choosing a spot on the tiles that wasn't covered in some suspicious liquid. It could be just water, but she doesn't want to risk it. She sighs as she looks in the mirror. This has been a long day and she's ready to head home.

She takes out her hair-tie and her scalp immediately breathes a sigh of relief. Today's ponytail was definitely a tight one. Her hair almost cries at the release. She smiles to herself tiredly.

As she starts picking out the hair strands to put up in a small bun, Y/N hears a sound similar to cracking, or maybe widning? Breaking? Where could it be coming from? She pays no mind to it, thinking someone's breaking tree branches outside.

The sound grows louder and Y/N furrows her eyebrows. Sounds like it's... coming from beneath her. She's a bit scared to check the floor, but when she does, she freezes in complete horror.

The former tile floor now looks like a forest's bed and instead of where the pipes should be under the sinks, there's wooden roots. Like the ones you see in the woods. Like the ones she's always been afraid of all her life, since she was a little kiddie.

Y/N tries to grab her bag, not believing her eyes but also not wanting to stay any longer and see the elaboration of the pipe-roots. But she feels something snaking around her right ankle and as she looks down on it, she cries out. One of the roots coming from under the sink have locked around her ankle and is slowly making its way up her leg.

Tears collect in her eyes and in such a big amount that they reach the brim and fall down on her cheeks, her dress, her hands and legs. She's in such a state of fear that she can't let out a sound. A silent panicking.

She tries to wriggle her foot out of the plant's grasp, but it's tight as hell. Y/N does what she can with her other foot still relatively free, reaching for her backpack. She knows she has scissors in her bag, she had arts and crafts today during Home Ed. They're in the outside pocket.

Her right hand is suddenly stopped, captured by a root that's coming out from the sink itself. Y/N's eyes widen even more, almost popping out of her skull. Physical terror almost takes over, but she makes for her backpack with her free left hand.

The moment she's got the scissors in her hand, she hears a giggle coming from behind her. Cold fright shakes her body. Should she even look behind her? Should she, for the best, close her eyes and wait for this nightmare to be over?

“Not such quick feet now, eh, Y/N?” An elderly, sort-of warped voice asks. It sends chills down her spine. No one even came in while she was here. Have they come through the window? And who are they?

She can't help her curious eyes looking up in the mirror. There she sees the most disturbing image a child could ever be beared to see. An at least six feet long... person in a clown costume is standing right behind her. Their skin is the palest white you could imagine. The lips and nose and eyes are crimson red. She hopes to the Gods that it's not blood on their face.

Their clown costume is dirty and very worn-out, looking decades old and over-used. The clown has orange hair that's sticking in the air, and wears a menacing smile. Their eyes are so big they look about to burst out, especially when they're each looking in their seperate direction.

Y/N screams and the clown laughs hysterically, and so loudly she feels like her ears and head would combust any second. She realises she needs to get herself free from the roots around her and bends down to start stabbing her scissors into the roots where they just barely are starting to wrap around her flesh. She's careful not to leave any self-injuries in the process. But it's hard to concentrate in this panic.

She's screaming and crying, afraid to death of the situation she's in. More and more roots start coming from all directions while the tall clown figure still laughs so horridly and terrifyingly. Y/N feels like she's spent, that she can't do this anymore, she can't free herself, that she'll give up and let whatever is bound to happen, happen.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run,” the clown starts to sing when she's finally freed herself of all the roots and grabs her backpack, ready to make it out the door, “don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun! O-ho-ho!” The clown laughs again.

Y/N stops at the restroom door, looking at the room before her in horror. It's turning into a sort of nest, roots coming from every corner and inch, each of them wanting to grab onto some part of her. The clown stands right in the middle of it all, staring at her. She dodges the stretching roots best she can, but she won't be able to hold back for any longer.

“He'll get by without his Y/N-pie,” he continues, but his voice has dropped an octave or two, the smile no more on his horrid features, “so run, rabbit, run, rabbit,” he takes steps towards the young girl, terrifying her even more, “RUN! RUN! RUN!” He screams in the most agonising and horrible voice she's ever heard, also running towards her with sharp teeth coming from his mouth and an evil grimace twisting his face.

Despite what her better judgement might tell her later, she listens to the creature and really does run. Out the swinging door, into the hallway without looking back. She runs into the first safest room she knows. The music room.

She practically falls through the door with a big clutter noise and terrifies poor Stanley, who's sitting alone at the piano. His eyes are wide and he jumps in his seat with a little shocked gasp. He looks upon the frightened Y/N. She's almost fallen down to the floor, her back against the door, as if she's holding it closed. As if someone might try to break in.

Stanley stands up and jogs over to her. “What's wrong?” He asks, one hand out-stretched hesitantly to her. She looks at him.

“I was... I was... There were... All around me...” She tries to explain what's just happened to her, but she makes no sense to Stan. He frowns. She looks scared, terrified. Her eyes are moving at rapid speed in every direction.

Y/N falls down on the floor, her knees against her chest and hands covering her face. In fear or embarrassment? Stanley immediately sits down next to her, legs crossed, and leans closer to her. He puts his arm around her shoulders in an attempt of an embrace and she goes in, letting the embrace happen. Needing it badly.

“There were the—the roots everywhere.” She cries. “Around my leg, around my arm. Trapping me, holding me. I couldn't get out. They wanted to—they wanted to trap me, get in me. I couldn't—”

“You're safe now.” Stanley tells her and soothes her with gently rubbing her back with his arm.

“There was... There was a clown there.” She tells him. “In old clothes. With a white face and a horrible smile. He was singing.” Y/N says and breaks down in a seizure of cries and sobs. “And the roots wanted me! They wanted to get in me! Trap me!” She shouts.

Stanley tries to make sense of it all. Wonders if she was hallucinating, maybe someone drugged her? But no. What if it's just like the woman he saw? What if she did see... roots? Whatever that could mean. But it was a nightmare. It's not real.

She can't stop crying. She's been exposed to her biggest fear and she can't calm down. She can't find any extra air to breathe, she feels like she's suffocating, like she's never going to calm down. It's a feeling of... no hope that you'll ever smile again.

She can't calm down for another five minutes, at least. But Stanley stays put, holds her and listens to anything she tells him.

“Do you think it was a nightmare?” Y/N asks him in a quiet voice, looking afar.

“I believe so.” He replies. “It can't be real.” But is he trying to convince her or himself? Trying to calm himself down or, at last, her? “It was just like my nightmare with this... strange woman.”

Y/N looks at him, slightly pulling apart from their embrace. Her eyes and cheeks are red, she looks lost and scared to death, still. “What woman?” She asks.

Stanley looks down. “My dad has a painting of a weird-looking woman in his office. She was trying to attack me when I was there to put the Tora back. Her face is all... twisted. She had teeth. I just ran.” He says finally and looks at her again. “But she's not real. And what you saw isn't real, okay? It was a bad, a really bad nightmare.”

She doesn't nod, but she takes his word for it. “But why did I see all that? Why now?” She asks. Perhaps she doesn't direct her question towards Stan, but to herself or something that could answer it. She sighs. “Sorry for scaring you.” Y/N apologises and sniffs.

“Don't worry. I understand.” He tells her in response. “Do you—do you maybe want to hear something?” Stanley offers with a kind smile. She nods. Stanley playing piano sounds calming to her, and he plays so beautifully, after all.

Stanley helps her get up from the floor and gives her a tissue to wipe her face with, one from the tissue box he always has in the music room, lying around, just in case. Y/N takes her bag and puts it on a near-by desk.

Stan gets her a chair to sit on, putting it next to the piano, and sits down on the pianist stool. She sits down and puts her arm on the piano, resting her head in the palm of it. She watches him play one of Chopin's Nocturnes, watches his face change with every note he plays. He's careful not to mess up at any point. But she wouldn't think anything of it if he did.

She feels peaceful, calm. The soft sounds of the piano playing in a completely empty room and, probably, building, calm her down and make her feel at peace with herself.

Y/N has always been first in P.E. class. She's competed in sprints and running competitions and marathons since she can remember. It's one thing that gets her away from everyone else (quite literally) and from any thoughts that she'd find unwelcome - running.

At one point in her secondary school years, she was running a kids marathon through the woods and tripped on a tree branch, getting her left foot stuck under a tree root by accident.

It was the first time she felt trapped. It was the first time she didn't win the marathon. It was the first time she didn't get any of the three first places. It was the first time she sprained her ankle. And the first time she felt genuenly scared for her life.

For her, it felt like the end of the world. It felt like no one would be coming to save her. But when they finally would come, the tree root would have already grown around and in her leg and stayed with her until the end of her life. She thought she'd have to live with a tree stuck to her, a root in her leg. She thought she'd never run again.

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