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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

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Meeting and Dating Stu Macher

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Stu when you were both in middle school. The two of you became friends purely because Stu wouldn’t let you not become his friend.

- So the two of you grew up and entered highschool together. You had a bit of a crush on him but never said anything about it, thinking that he only liked you as a friend. Oh how wrong you were....

- It’s sophomore year when you get your first real boyfriend. Stu isn’t happy about it.

- It’s obvious to see that he disapproves when you tell him that you’re going on a date. He treats you coldly throughout the entire day, not as bubbly as he usually is. While it does seem odd, you chalk it up to him feeling protective of you and not knowing how to articulate his worries.

- The next day, it’s as though nothing has happened. He nonchalantly asks you about your date but doesn’t seem all too happy to hear that it went well. You figure you’re looking into it too much.

- As time goes on, on the outside, it seems like he’s warmed up to the idea of you dating the boy, though you’re sure it’s mainly because you weren’t planning on getting rid of him anytime soon. But on the inside, it’s driving him crazy.

- Theres an obvious yet subtle rivalry between your boyfriend and him, whether one sided; at first, or not. Sometimes you wouldn’t even notice but your boyfriend sure did.

- The certain way Stu would pop up when you were hanging out, the way he called you over to him when you were trying to talk, the way he touched you; it was like he was sending a message behind his cheerful smile. Can’t you see who’s more important to her.

- He hugs you for too long, enjoys it too much. You thought your boyfriend was going crazy. You’d assure him that you were just friends, that you’d been friends for a long time and that he was just reading into it too much. That that was just Stu being, well, Stu.

- But your boyfriend wasn’t too far off. Stu had feelings for you. He had a big crush that hadn’t let up for years, one which was slowly eating away at him. He hadn’t wanted to ruin your friendship, especially when he didn’t even know if you wanted to date anyone.

- Though, regardless of whether or not you thought your boyfriend was being silly; you talked to Stu about it. He makes jokes, teasingly promising to be on his best behavior. You aren’t even aware that you’ve given him all he needs to know. He is getting to the boy and everything is working out perfectly.

- In the following days, Stu ups his antics and your boyfriend finally loses it, starting an argument which evolves into a full on fight and ends in you breaking up with him. Single once more.

- The next day at school, Stu approaches you like normal and immediately notes how tired and bothered you look. Without even thinking, you relinquish the details and he comforts you, saying that he could tell he wasn’t good for you. He does feel bad, seeing you so upset, but at the same time, he’s happy that you’re finally done with the other boy.

- It’s a week or so later that he confesses his feelings to you, wanting to give you enough time to get over the jerk. Having waited this long, he didn’t want his plan to be foiled by post breakup confusion.

- His parents are out of town so you’re staying the night, the two of you laying side by side on his bed, dressed in your comfiest clothes. You’re watching some lousy made for TV movie when he shoves your shoulder lightly, prompting you to look at him. He’s now leaning on his elbow and facing you. You shoot him a curious look and he speaks.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, right? And you know that I care about you a lot. Well, the thing is.... I care about you a lot more than you think and I want us to be even closer than we are now, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is that I... I love you and I want to know if you feel the same.” He rambles nervously, eyes focused on his fingers which are tracing along the blanket beneath the two of you.

- It certainly comes as a shock though you can’t say you’re completely surprised. You don’t know what to say so you let your actions speak for you. You move closer to him, hands grasping his cheeks as his own hands find your hips, pulling you closer as he tilts his head up and let’s you press your lips to his.

- He pulls you closer until you’re practically on top of him, eagerly kissing you until you both need to break apart for air. When you do, you’re both panting yet he smiles, pecking your lips and saying he’ll “take that as a yes”.

- Congratulations, you’ve earned yourself an adorable goofball who also kills people.

- He hangs all over you in public. You can never get him off of you although, would you ever really want to?

- Hand kisses. He presses his lips to your knuckles whenever he grabs your hand.

- You arent allowed to walk to class alone; he won’t let you. It is his duty to walk you and he will fulfill it.

- He rarely says your full name. Instead, he’ll either call you a pet name; usually babe or darling, or whatever nickname comes from your full name. Even if your names short, he’ll wind up making it longer just because he can.

- Long makeout sessions.

- He always gets this lovestruck look on his face whenever you show up; no matter what was going on before you arrived. His day instantly becomes like ten times better at the sight of you.

- Getting to borrow his Walkman. He makes a very strategically constructed mixtape, filled with songs that the two of you love so that both of you can listen and enjoy.

- Tasteful groping and butt smacks.

- Going to all his parties.

- He is such a baby when he gets sick. He completely overreacts, whining, moaning and acting like he’s dying even though he’s just got a mild cold.

- He tries to make your hugs last for as long as they can, especially when you’re saying goodbye.

- He’s constantly trying to make you laugh, mostly through bad jokes that will either get you to laugh through their stupidity or have you rolling your eyes.

- Teasing you is his favorite hobby. He likes doing what he’s good at and what he’s good at is being a little shit.

- Sometimes he just randomly approaches you with little gifts; mainly flowers he’s picked you or something similar. It’s usually either because you look like you need some cheering up or because he’s trying to apologize for a “stupidity leak”.

- Big boy likes being a big spoon. He’s tall so the two of you fit together perfectly.

- Gettting randomly thrown over his shoulder. Sometimes he’ll just carry you off as though you weren’t going somewhere or having a conversation with someone. Or he’ll act like nothings out of the ordinary while talking to the person you were talking to.

- You always have a seat ready for you ...on his lap.

- He leans on you all the time, whether it be him resting his chin or arm against your shoulder or him full on laying between your legs with his head against your stomach.

- Getting... the tongue. The man is constantly flashing it at you. A part of you thinks he’s trying to send a message, the other part of you just thinks he’s a dog.

- On that note, he’s probably licked the entire side of your face before, especially when you aren’t paying attention to him.

- He craves attention; it’s like a drug to him. He loves having your eyes on him, and when they aren’t? He’ll give them a reason to be.

- He’s sort of insecure so you fawning over or complimenting someone else immediately makes him uneasy. His ex girlfriend dumped him for a football player and he’s kinda scared that you’ll do the same.

- He tries to reassure you whenever you seem nervous or apprehensive, usually through jokes. Not sure about an idea of his? Well, what if he makes some action movie reference and promises to protect you as he makes karate motions with his hands?

- The boy has no subtly. He’s always blunt and upfront with what he’s trying to say so you’re never confused by any “insinuations” that he makes.

- Getting random, unexpected visits from him, usually when you’re at work or home alone.

- This man is a cheerleader when it comes to you. He’s always hyping you up and complimenting everything you do.

- He’s constantly bragging about you; he’s so proud.

- Movie dates. He’s not as completely obsessed with horror as Billy is but he still enjoys sitting with his girl, watching a film and trying to “subtly” feel you up.

- Getting close to Billy by default. The two of them are constantly together so you wind up being costantly around him as well.

- Hanging out at the fountain with him and his friends.

- His parents are out of town a lot so you have the whole house to yourselves most of the time.

- He’s got a farmhouse on the outskirts of town with the perfect view of the sunset/sunrise. You don’t know how many times you and him have laid out on the grass, cozied up next to each other and watching the sky change colors.

- Stealing his sweaters when it gets cold. You should see his face when he sees you wearing them, it’s the perfect example of a lovestruck expression.

- Jaw and neck kisses. He doesn’t care if he’s giving or receiving; he loves them either way.

- Inside jokes.

- Having to stifle a laugh when he mocks or makes fun of someone. It’s so stupid that you can’t help but chuckle.

- He may not seem like a very jealous person but whew boy. For someone who is constantly bragging about how great you are, he hates other people actually seeing it and admitting that he’s right.

- He’s a protective boy, he hates the thought of you being hurt, upset, or take advantage of. And he’s like so buff, he’s got you covered.

- Defending him whenever someone won’t let up on him. He isn’t very articulate so if someone needs to be shut down verbally, you do it yourself.

- Local sensitive baby caves under peer pressure. It’s incredibly easy to make him do what you ask; thankfully, you aren’t trying to make him do something that will get him in trouble.

- He doesn’t quite grasp the art of being tactful so you’ll oftentimes have to interrupt or stop him from saying something.

- Since he always seems to say the wrong thing or do something stupid, the two of you; most likely, have more than a few petty arguments. They usually aren’t anything worse than a little bickering.

- He always does something adorable that makes you forgive him whether it be using puppy dog eyes on you or telling bad jokes until you can’t help but warm back up to him.

- Not a day goes by where he doesn’t say he loves you. He needs you to know!!

- He doesn’t really talk about the future but he’s planning on marrying you as soon as he can and that’s a fact. The man is in love.

#90s movie headcanon #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagine #scream imagines #scream headcanon #scream headcanons #scream imagine #Stu macher imagine #stu macher headcanons #Stu macher headcanon #slasher imagines #slasher headcanon #slasher headcanons

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kxhlzn · 4 years

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[i.] the birdwatcher & his lover.

➳ synopsis: it's the summer of '89, and you discover new things about yourself— some good, and some you wish you could swallow and never see again. dealing with the newfound confusion of sexuality, you must learn the ins and outs of friendship and what it means to grow up.

➳ genre: coming-of-age drama, fluff, crack, angst, slow burn romance, lgbtq+ themes.

➳ characters/pairing(s): eventual stanley uris/reader (main couple), unrequited!beverly marsh/reader, eventual richie/eddie (possibly unrequited), eventual bev/ben.

➳ wordcount: 3.2k

➳ warnings: profanity, partial nudity (the lake), slight angst.

➳ song recs: "beverly" from the it soundtrack & "she" by dodie.

➳ author's notes: hi hi hi! this is my first fic on tumblr and honestly i'm a bit anxious about this bc i haven't written in ages lmfao. this is a series, so pls don't hesitate to send in asks and the like! nothing is set entirely into stone yet. please note! the characters are fifteen in this, and pennywise doesn't attack derry at all; so georgie is alive and well and chasing paper boats in the rain. richie & reader are both bisexual, ben & bev fall in love as kids. reader and bill are vv close but platonically.

June, 1989.

the first time you meet stanley uris, he is perched on a oak bench planted in the middle of derry park, his bruised knees pressed together in order to keep his journal steady. his chin is pointed to the heavens, eyes searching the clouds, a curious glow in them; cheeks dusted a light pink, he was angelic, the sun's rays a dull comparison to the golden glow of his messy curls. the boy had a nervous tick of tapping his pencil against the yellowed paper in his lap, followed by the curve of his brow when he noticed a bird flutter overheard.

you, at age eleven, were fascinated by him, and lacked a filter to save you from your mouth. it's almost as if the hinge of your jaw had lost a screw, and you feared if it hung open too long a fly might seek entrance there. of course, it would have been entirely avoidable if you hadn't sat your butt right next to him, and stuck your nose right where it didn't belong: in his journal.

"your handwriting is pretty, but your drawings can use some serious work. is that supposed to be a bird? it looks like it's having a heart attack," you had said, tilting your head, "the wings are too jagged and the legs too... sticky, you know? not like sticky like honey, but sticky like... you know, sticks? are you mute or something?"

your blank stare forces stanley's hand to shoot to the back of his neck as he tries to find the words to attend to all of your commentary. his mouth opens and closes a few times before you roll your eyes dramatically, slumping into the back of the bench. stanley clears his throat, eyes falling to the ground.

a silence ensues, and you glance from his crestfallen expression to the drawings. "and, uh, his eyes are buggy; they look like fat marbles. they're taking up his whole face."

stan releases a breathy laugh, and he raises an eyebrow at the graphite drawing in front of him. "they do, don't they?"

you mirror his laugh, and nod solemnly. "there's no saving them," you say, and decide to tell him your name, outstretching your hand proudly.

"stanley," the boy replies, meeting your grip and giving it a good shake. "uh, you know a lot about drawing. could you fix him?"

you hum, taking the journal from his lap and dropping it in your own. you tilt your head at the sketch, putting your chin in your hand. "it's going to be a tough job, but i think he'll survive. scalpel, sir?"

he hands you the yellow pencil, sharpened down half its original length. "anastesia? or uh," you inquire, not aware of how to spell or pronounce the word, "the stuff that doctors give people during surgery."

"anesthesia," stanley corrects, pulling a pink eraser from his pocket and giving it away.

"yeah, that," you bring the eraser down and the bird lines are soon gone, but the remnants of what was stays behind on the paper. "your lines are really hard. you've prolly got heavy hand, you know. but don't worry, i do too."

the next few minutes are in comfortable silence, save for your absent-minded humming. stanley leans over your shoulder, but not to the point of invading personal space, studying each pencil stroke gracing the journal. he makes a comment about the structure of the real-life bird, and you nod your head in agreement. the two of you synchronize nearly perfectly — you sketch what he tells you to. you aren't very observant to the outside world, but you focus on details in your drawings. stanley will mention that the creature has a stray mark on its beak, and you pencil it in without the graphite being too dramatic, which stanley is quick to do in his work.

after an hour of chatting and working, you are sitting on the back of the bench, feet placed comfortably on the seat. you are talking on and on about a story that happened during your english class, and you don't refrain a single detail. stanley listens intently, body slouched forward over his journal as he writes physical descriptions of the bird next to the drawing. he checks the time on his watch, and nearly jumps out of his seat. he swivels around, eyes blown wide, but you don't seem to notice as your arms wave about, mimicking a girl in your class.

stanley barks your name, which sounds sweet on his tongue, he realizes. when you focus on him curiously, he looks guilty. "i have to go. i was supposed to go to my friend's house so we could go to the quarry together. uh, unless you want to.. go?"

you grin, hopping onto the soil beside him. "for sure!" you hook your arm in his, and skip forward a few steps.

"wrong way," he says sheepishly.

you turn around, now exceedingly confident. "onward, steed!"

the next few years, up until freshman year, you are best friends with stanley uris and his gang of friends; bill denbrough, richie tozier, and eddie kaspbrak. bill was the kindest of all of them, a sensitive boy with a heart of gold. his love for art made him an easy companion, and you grew very close the summer of 7th grade, spending many hours a week at his house simply talking and making art. his little brother is like your favorite person, the little squirt constantly bugging bill about when he'll see you again, and telling bill he likes you better because you'll play with him.

eddie is a mother hen to you, warning you about the dangers you put yourself in on a daily basis. you are more reckless than the other boys, so it's common to see eddie turn an ugly shade of purple when he witnesses you do something exceedingly ignorant. with your asthma, he can relate to you, but you personally believe the inhalers you have are pointless and there's no need to rely on them, but eddie disagrees. when he takes a puff from his emergency inhaler, which is more of a daily one, he tends to shove one in your mouth too for simple sake of anxiety. you've found that he calms down when you play with his hair or give his scalp a light scratch, his voice lost in the serenity of it all.

ah, richie tozier; you two are scarily similar, and everyone is aware of it. he's of course referred to as "trashmouth", and you're known as "loudmouth", as richie has a tendency to speak inappropriate things, and you just keep speaking and can't properly whisper to save your life. a major difference between the two of you is your vulnerability, naiveness, and positive charisma. his talkativeness is characterized by sarcasm and the "class clown" stereotype, while yours relies more on really just being a chatterbox, whose thoughts spill out at rapid speeds without being filtered by your brain. fortunately, it's easier to make friends this way, and you tend to be the ice-breaker of your friends. richie, personally, admires this about you and thinks of you as an "innocent little ball of sunshine", and likes to put his arm on your head to show his dominance.

your relationship with stanley uris is a bit complicated; of course, at first, it was unproblematic being friends with him, as you were easy opposites. you spoke into the space that he was too quiet to fill, and it was comfortable for the both of you; you got to speak your mind without interruption, and stanley was able to have company that didn't force him to interact gregariously. however, as you grew with time, he found your carelessness to be irritating, as he hated feeling he had to be anxious all of the time; stanley enjoys turning his alarm off, and running on low function, and he thinks it is hard to do that when you're jumping off cliffs, climbing on slippery rocks with your eyes covered, and provoking bullies three years older than you. he finds you irrational and childlike, which is difficult for him to grasp as an inherently strategic and analytical person. you are a glass half full, and he is glass half empty. he prefers to consider the consequences, and you have a tendency to wait to find them out after you commit the deed. he has his future planned, and you want to live in the moment; you enjoy surprises, new opportunities, as there is something entirely boring about being sure what you plan to do each day. sometimes, you believe stanley wakes early, dresses in the outfit he put aside the night before, and takes a seat to write down a schedule. you shiver at the thought. unfortunately, the disagreements put tension on your friendship, as hanging out periodically ends with an argument, and one of you stomping out to rant to one of the others. you sincerely care for each other, but also find each other extremely irritating when the situation calls for it; which is becoming increasingly habitual as you grow taller with age.

but you also find him to be beautiful.

you're fifteen when you properly meet ben hanscom, beverly marsh, and mike hanlon. it's also the first time you felt something strike deep in your gut for that particular redheaded girl, and the way her newly chopped locks curled at the ends. she had tucked your hair behind your ear as you wrestled with the button on your overall shorts, and took your hands in hers, pushing them aside so she could slip the button through the hole properly. she was so graceful, elegant even, in the way she held herself. that day, you labeled the twist of your insides as insecurity, nothing else.

it was a mix of many things, you realized a long time after. insecurity, deep-rooted sexual confusion, and jealousy.

beverly is the first to jump off the cliff and into the lake below. after aiding you in your clothing disaster, she slips her creamy overdress from her shoulders, and gives her arms a good shake. she departs with a glance back at you, the sun beating down on her hair like fiery red flames, and her icy eyes contrasting its intensity. suddenly, you feel so small; so plain. before she could see your lip quiver, she was in the air, high like an angel, before falling towards the murky waters.

the stars in bill and ben's eyes, and the admiration in the rest of theirs, erupt a cacophony for you, striking your heart like a harsh note: these aren't your boys anymore.

bill jumps next, and then the others, eddie last. the splash sends spikes in your spine, but it's a warm hand on your shoulder that kick-starts your body. sandy curls appear in front of your face, tilting to reveal the kind eyes of stanley uris. his mouth is shaped in a firm line, a bit disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. he seems to be at war with himself.

he stays silent for a moment, eyes searching the sky for the right words. "i want to go last," he finally breathes, seemingly triumphed in his verbiage, "i don't want them to see me cross my fingers behind my back before i go."

you laugh softly, relieved. you are grateful knowing he wasn't going to pry in your hesitation, or your brief self-consciousness. even when the two of you bicker, you hold high respect for stan; he's a boy of few words. he isn't shy, and certainly isn't bashful; he simply chooses to speak sparingly, believing that the chattiest voices aren't always loudest. he doesn't word vomit to fill the silence; that is how you know his words are meticulously chosen, like pieces to a greater puzzle.

stanley's thin frame makes no unnecessary movements, but rather awaits yours. his hand has long since abandoned your shoulder, and rather is cuffing his other calmly in front of his hips. the lack of speech isn't menacing or awkward, but instead a bit comforting; it gives you adequate time to finish undressing, tossing aside your socks and shoes. you pull the loose scrunchie from your hair, and give yourself a silent nod in reassurance.

"promise not to tell?" stan says quietly when he's sure you're more stable, curious eyes searching for yours.

"pinky promise," you insist, holding up the smallest finger on your right hand. when his wraps around yours, you toss him a childlike grin. "i never break them."

and then you're gone, cascading down towards the green waters, each wave crystalizing in your descent.

"i know," stanley whispers to himself. little do you know, he has the same epiphany you had just seconds ago, aweing after beverly.

he crosses his fingers behind his back, and steps off the cliff's edge.

air reaches your lungs when you pull your head above the surface, and you gather your sopping hair from your skin, laying it against your neck. you face the sky, and stan's dive is a flash of gold: like a bird, graceful in it's dip, his curls like its wings.

you find yourself wanting to ask him what it's like to fly.

—

on a boiling day in the middle of june, you and the others spend a day in the quarry again, but instead have a picnic by the rocks rather than racing back into town for a snack at eddie's house. it was mike's idea; he hadn't told anyone until he showed up early that day, sweaty and beaming with a quaint basket and blanket tucked under his arm. you felt a bit guilty, honestly— you wish he would've told you so you all could pitch in.

he seemed ecstatic, though, setting it up, so you couldn't bring yourself to mention that.

beverly says she wants to sunbathe with you, so you agree with hot cheeks and position yourself awkwardly next to her, posture straight with your knees tucked under your arms. your stiffness goes unnoticed by her, thankfully, so you're able to admire her form in peace as she stretches her limbs out with a soft sigh. compared to her, you feel unbearably rigged, unbearably not feminine. a thought crosses your mind that her own feminity outshines yours so much that the boys must think of you as one of them, minus the third leg, and with twin petals blossoming on your chest.

the boys are curled around their usual spots, the multiple boulders a few feet from your seated position, chatting carelessly. mike is discluded, lost in preparing the perfect picnic for you all. perhaps if you had noticed the simplicity of it all, you wouldn't have blurted out something ignorant to force a tension in the summer air.

"do you guys think i'm pretty?"

the conversation drops briefly, takes a soft roar, and then entirely ceases as seven pairs of eyes draw to you, including mike and beverly. the red-haired girl has a smirk on her lips, tilting her head ever so slightly as if to test your patience and purpose.

bill clears his throat gently. "u-um, well, yeah of c-course.. w-why wouldn't w-we?"

you shrug nonchalantly, and the others eyeball each other, pleading for another to say something else. eddie and ben slyly play rock paper scissors for a sacrifice.

richie whistles lowly. "this is gonna be good."

your face's temperature soon begins to rival the sun as your breath hitches in your throat, attention turned directly on beverly, as though her presence might calm your nerves. it doesn't. your lower lip is caught between your teeth, as you grow progressively more embarrassed of yourself the longer the others stare.

beverly smiles gently, her intensely blue eyes never straying from yours. "i think you're the prettiest girl in the world."

you sputter suddenly, adjusting your aviators, and spill out something along the lines of "i have to go take a piss", and skitter off in the direction of the woods. you curse yourself the entire way.

richie laughs, breaking the tension. he pats stanley's bare back roughly as the lanky boy stares at the trees you disappeared behind. "and the hits just keep on coming."

"beep beep, richie," eddie scolds, and richie winks at him, suggestively nodding towards him. eddie rolls his eyes and his gaze drops to his feet.

"sandwiches, anyone?" mike whimpers, a lopsided grin as he holds up a loaf of bread. stanley gently pushes past him and disappears into the brush.

"well, i, for one, would like three," richie replies, slapping his thighs as he stands.

eddie mumbles a word or two about richie being "as selfish as ever", and makes his way to mike also. beverly is a bit quiet, and bill chooses to sit beside her; his hands fall to his knees, rubbing them subconsciously.

"u-um, you didn't do a-anything wrong," he says, aware of the deep concentration beverly has. he can usually tell when everyone is upset or has something on their mind. "she's j-just been a l-little self conscious lately."

"please," beverly whispers, lifting her head to the sky, "i can tell she's been different around me. i must have said something to offend her. i should apologize—"

beverly pulls herself up, dusts off her legs, and is yanked down by bill's shaky hand.

"d-d-don't—" when the girl steadies, he continues, "let them b-b-be. if y-you really did s-something to h-hurt her, s-s-stanley will f-find out. trust him."

the greenery is exceedingly massive— miles and miles of towering woodland, filtering in streams of sunlight, rocky terrain around every trunk. you find yourself breathing heavily while seated on a boulder that is tucked away behind a ledge, facing the opposite way of the opening that your friends are at. elbows pressed into your knees, you put your face in your hands.

the air is tightening around your throat, and your uneven breaths become wheezes. you fist your hair in frustration, and smooth it down seconds after. this turns into a cycle, as you calm your wild nerves. fuck. are you allowed to think of her like that? you inhale deeply, the scent of soil filling your senses.

twigs crack in the distance, rapidly approaching feet obliterating the silence that has so graciously aided you in your toxic thoughts. you run your hands through your hair, and then fist a handful at the scalp. you smooth it out tenderly. when the footsteps are extremely close, slow down their pace, and stop entirely, you squeeze your eyes shut.

"go the fuck away, bill, i don't need your lect—" you bark, waving him away, but are cut off by long arms wrapping around your neck. your anxiety washes away, but you make no effort to embrace them in turn. your hands become fists, with no fabric of a shirt to grasp. you don't notice the tears racing down your face until your eyes and cheeks burn furiously, and your throat is caught up in sobs. when you peek, the sight of stanley's dusty curls in your peripheral sends waves of numbness and comfort over your skin.

your thoughts become hazy once you've lain your head against the bone of stanley's bare shoulder, and you feel a weight on your body lift from you— and transfer to him.

you swear you can hear faint whispering, voice cracked and vulnerable: "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay."

the part that leaves you aching for days in the future, is that you're not sure he was talking to you.

➳ i hope you liked it! it's a bit short but idc cuz i'm tired.

#it #the losers club #stephen king #it 2017 #stan uris #stanley uris #stanley uris x reader #losers club x reader #beverly marsh x reader #it fanfiction #stanley uris imagine #beverly marsh imagine #kassie writes #BW

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lumaejin · 3 years

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Happy Halloween?

↬ Rating: General Audiences

↬ Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

↬ Genre: Fluff. Halloween themed BTS housemates AU

↬ Category: M/M

↬ Relationship: Sope (Jung Hoseok x Min Yoongi)

↬ Word Count: 3.6k

↬ Summary: The maknaes are once again playing matchmaking by sending Hoseok and Yoongi to a funfair. On Halloween. While it's raining. Oh, and Yoongi totally doesn't want to kill them at all. Who would have thought that it would have actually initiated something between the two of them?

gif made by me - story written in 2020

(cross posted on AO3)

The rain clouds loomed overhead, darkening the sky and obscuring the sun from view. Aside from a few lone cars passing by, the roads were completely empty. Not that it surprised Yoongi; no one in their right minds would be driving to a funfair on a stormy day. Specifically, on Halloween.

"We should have never given in," Yoongi said, his hands on the steering wheel.

Hoseok glanced at the downpour, his eyes moving up to the ever-darkening sky. A frown appeared in place of his usual smile, though he covered it up quickly.

"Come on, don't be like that. It'll be fun!" Hoseok said, "Besides, they would have never stopped bothering us if we didn't agree. It's better to suffer now than for the rest of our days."

"We're going to a fair. In the rain. Because the maknaes forced us to. And you're telling me it's going to be fun?"

"They weren't the only ones forcing us to go..."

"Missing the point."

"Right," Hoseok said, "What I mean is: make the best of the situation, you know? We both know what's going to happen if we come back earlier than planned."

There was a moment of silence. Both of them did know. Very well in fact. They had had enough of Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung's devilry to last them a lifetime. Their plans of revenge were feared by all (Hoseok, Namjoon, Seokjin and him) and could last weeks on end. Of course, Yoongi felt some sort of affection for the three and all their "punishments" weren't really punishments. That still didn't stop their behaviour from being a right pain in the butt, though.

This time, however, it wasn't just the maknaes they needed to be worried about. Seokjin and Namjoon had been hell-bent on making them go too, and Seokjin, especially, had more power in the household than all the others combined. To have him somewhere in the equation made everything so much more dangerous and Yoongi could already see the mountain of dishes he'd have to wash. Every day. For five weeks.

"We're not risking that," Yoongi said with a sigh, "But I might or might not beat them up once we get home."

"No objections," Hoseok said, "Um I mean, don't go too hard on them."

A roar of thunder interrupted their conversation and Hoseok shuddered at the sound. His eyes once again found the darkening clouds, his eyebrows furrowing. Rain was okay, but thunder and lightning though...

"They really had to pick today," Hoseok said, shaking his head. Not only was it Halloween (a festival he disliked simply because it was rather... frightening), but the weather was at its worst. They hadn't had a storm like this in weeks, not since the thunderstorm which had nearly blown away half of the country.

Yoongi grumbled in agreement, catching sight of a neon sign at the side of the road. So this was it... Seoul Fun Fair? He'd never heard of it before, which, in itself was rather unusual. After all, Jimin had claimed that this fair was pretty popular.

"What are the chances that they have a tracker on this car?" Yoongi asked. He had half a mind to continue driving -- maybe to a nearby village -- but the thought of being found out loomed over his head like a dark rain cloud.

"Do you even have to ask?" Hoseok said.

He was right, of course; both of them knew the maknaes well enough by now. In fact, Yoongi would be extremely surprised if they didn't have a tracker on the car. Shaking his head, he exited the motorway and stopped the car at the traffic lights.

The sky had darkened considerably, causing an unnerving feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked back towards the main road.

"The rain's getting worse," Hoseok said.

"Do we have an umbrella?"

"Yeah. I think there might be one in the trunk... but um... I think it's that small and pink one."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at this. Typical of the maknaes. Typical. It was one of their many "grande" schemes and he knew for a fact that Jin and Namjoon had become a victim of this one in particular before.

"Those three boys are unbelievable," he muttered, starting the engine of the car again.

Another 15 minutes passed before they arrived at the funfair, during which Yoongi swore that he felt the temperature drop by at least 20 degrees. The trees rustled wildly, casting large, ominous shadows on the roads, which most certainly did not help to ease the feeling of dread. In short, Yoongi very much felt like punching the three maknaes in the face. For real. No joke.

The parking lot was empty when they arrived (surprise, surprise!), though pumpkins of different sizes and shapes had been strategically placed on the lawn. Hoseok had to admit that they fulfilled their purposes well; he was much more scared than he would like to admit. It didn't help that the sky was almost completely dark now, meaning that the candles inside the pumpkins were one of the only sources of light.

After coming back with a parking ticket, the two of them decided to walk towards the fair in search of warmth. Neither wanted to budge, but it turned out that the car they had taken -- Jin's to be precise -- was the one with the broken heating system. (Hoseok had to give the maknaes credit; they seemed to have gotten better and better at planning. Though, at the moment, he'd rather they were terrible at it.)

As they walked towards the gates of the funfair, Hoseok was very much aware of how close the pink umbrella forced them to be. He was terribly aware of how their arms touched more than usual, how he could smell the light hint of cedarwood. He knew one of the maknaes had given them that umbrella on purpose, and while he did curse them, he also felt slightly, just slightly, grateful. It wasn't every day that he got to walk this close to his crush- no, roommate.

A mantra of "I don't like Yoongi this way"s started playing in his mind, well, because he definitely didn't like Yoongi that way.

Nope.

He totally didn't sometimes stare at Yoongi in his sleep. And he absolutely didn't hang on to every word the latter said. Oh, and he most definitely did not want to cuddle him. Not at all. No.

It was simply a light slip up, one which didn't mean too much. It was normal for friends to occasionally find themselves in a dangerous zone, right? Though now that he really considered it, these thoughts never seemed to surface when he was thinking about Namjoon or Seokjin or Jimin or Jungkook or Taehyung... No- he needed to distract himself. This wasn't a topic to ponder on and he was bound to overthink it.

"How did the maknaes even get Jin and Namjoon involved?" Hoseok asked, grabbing at a random question in his head. Anything was good, as long as he was distracted.

"Probably by threatening. Or Jin and Namjoon just felt mischievous. Though they most likely told Jin that they were gonna cook something in his kitchen."

"They're not that terrible at it. Jungkook makes food every now and then," Hoseok said.

"It's not that. It's when they're together that they make a massive mess," Yoongi said, "Once, I walked into them having a food fight and it took Jin 5 days to scrub the kitchen clean. This was before you moved in."

They stopped at the gates of the fair, looking beyond it sceptically. A few lights were on, but most of the booths seemed to be closed. That wasn't the concerning part though because neither of them had expected large crowds anyway. What was surprising and slightly off-putting, was the fact that all of the stands and the attractions looked worn down and old. *What type of fair was this, if they didn't make sure to repair their equipment? *

Come to think of it... he hadn't heard about this fair before the maknaes mentioned it. Hoseok had always been under the impression that he knew Seoul well and if this funfair was as popular as they said it was, he should have heard of it at some point, right? The thought made him unconsciously step closer to Yoongi.

"Um Yoongi," Hoseok said, "Have you ever heard of this fair before?"

"No," Yoongi said, "Why the sudden question?"

"Don't the booths look a bit run-down to you? It just feels like they're gonna fall apart at any moment," Hoseok said, pausing for a second as he looked around anxiously.

Silence.

"Where did those three discover this fair anyway?" Hoseok asked, "They said it's really popular, but it doesn't really look that way. It seems more like business hasn't been good for years or something."

"They wouldn't send us somewhere dangerous," Yoongi said.

"Not on purpose," Hoseok countered.

Yoongi scanned the fair again with caution, before abruptly turning back to Hoseok. "It's fishy. But we should stop worrying before it drives us crazy. Let's just find somewhere warm to sit and wait it out."

He had a point of course. The rain was relentless as it pounded against their small umbrella and though they tried to stand close enough to prevent it, at least half of their shoulders were already drenched. If they stood here any longer, their shoes and trousers were bound to get soaked as well.

Yoongi reached out, opening the rusty gate and wincing slightly as it creaked loudly. Even though Hoseok tried to get his mind off of it, the way everything looked worn down continued to bother him. The paint was fading and there was rust everywhere; it honestly creeped him out. Or maybe it was that, paired with the fact that it was Halloween.

Or maybe it was Hoseok's sneaking suspicion that they were the only customers the shopkeepers had seen in years. Something about the way their eyes glinted just seemed off...

"I think that booth over there has a place to sit," Yoongi said, "And there's a fireplace behind the counter so it's bound to be somewhat warm."

"Sure," Hoseok agreed.

As the two of them crossed the lawn -- still followed by the stares of the funfair staff -- a peculiar shape caught Hoseok's eye. It looked sort of like the shadow of another person, maybe of someone walking towards them. As he turned to point it out to Yoongi however, it was gone.

It must have been a trick of the light, Hoseok thought as he shook it off. He had a tendency to imagine things when he was paranoid and even though Yoongi had told him to pay it no mind, he really wasn't succeeding. After all, everywhere he looked, something or someone creepy seemed to stare back.

Reaching the shelter of the awning, Hoseok put down the pink umbrella and greeted the lady behind the counter. He sighed in disappointment; the booth didn't offer coffee. Instead, the two of them ordered two cups of hot chocolate and sat down.

Even as the warmth of the booth simmered out towards them, Hoseok couldn't stop shivering from the cold. It was like sitting in a pile of snow and even the hot chocolate couldn't do much to help.

It was so cold in fact, that his tongue stopped perceiving the sweetness of the drink, leaving only an unappetizing blankness in his mouth.

"Do you think Namjoon and Seokjin will kill Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook if we come back home with a cold?" Hoseok asked.

"They won't. The brats will feel bad enough on their own, so they won't need reprimanding."

Thunder and lightning interrupted their conversation and Hoseok turned back towards the stands and booths opposite them. The sight made him freeze, his cup pausing by his lips. A shadow had appeared... the same shadow he had seen while crossing the lawn! It was lurking in front of the two, before making its way towards them slowly.

Once the initial shock of having seen the shadow of another person had subsided, however, he'd managed to calm himself down quickly. After all, it was normal for someone to come towards this booth; he and Yoongi couldn't be the only ones at the fair.

Just as he was about to turn away, however, the shadow started morphing. Morphing, and not in a normal way. Rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, Hoseok stared avidly at the monster-like form.

"Yoongi," he whispered, his voice trembling as he pointed towards the lawn.

He glanced sideways to see Yoongi's eyes widen in shock and confusion. Hoseok had no idea what to do. Was this some sort of supernatural thing that only happened in movies? What were they to do in a situation like this? Shadow-monsters or whatever that thing was didn't exist in real life, right?

It seemed, however, that Yoongi had the answer. In the blink of an eye, he had started dragging Hoseok by the arm, not caring about the rain or the way both of their clothes were starting to get soaked. He fumbled around for the small umbrella, only to find that he had left it behind. His heart pounded heavily as he turned around; the shadow was still there.

It was following them.

He tapped Yoongi again, but the latter only looked ahead. He was moving the two of them forward at a constant speed and Hoseok really didn't mean to notice the way his hands gripped Hoseok's wrist tighter than ever before. Or the way he felt Yoongi's shallow breaths on his face. Or the fact that his t-shirt was starting to become really see-through. It really wasn't the time to worry about things like that, but sometimes, Hoseok couldn't help it.

"Yoongi," Hoseok said breathlessly a few minutes later. They were mindlessly rushing around the fair, looking for a place to hide. But the shadow was hot on their tail. Every time Hoseok looked back, it was there. Was this how the main characters in those goddamn horror movies Jungkook liked to watch felt like? He'd never appreciated being forced to watch them, and he certainly didn't appreciate the experience either.

"Come on," Yoongi said, tugging at Hoseok's hands. He had stopped to scan the area around them, his eyes finally landing on a small shack in the very centre of the fair.

Then, just as he was about to turn around again, a funny feeling made him stiffen. Was something behind them? Of course, the shadow was... but had it come nearer? He automatically looked towards Yoongi for reassurance, but the expression on the latter's face didn't help one bit, nor did the way Yoongi was staring at the ground behind Hoseok, or the way he was muttering something under his breath (something which sounded oddly like "Maknae" and "Kill").

Hoseok opened his mouth to ask, but before he could even form a word, they were running as fast as the muddy ground would allow them. Mud was splattering all over Hoseok's trousers and shoes, as they raced towards the small shack Yoongi was pointing at. The shadow was falling behind, but neither of them dared to slack off. In fact, though Hoseok had always been a hard-working person if he did say so himself, it felt as though he had never been this diligent before.

"Hide," Yoongi said, panting heavily. His hair was matted to his forehead as he pushed the door open, moving behind one of the many crates.

Hoseok stepped in behind Yoongi, nearly tripping over a long piece of fabric on the ground. Clown costumes were carelessly placed over the crates and straps of silk littered the floor. It creeped Hoseok out, though he tried to hide that as best as he could.

"How are we supposed to hide from a shadow?" Hoseok said, forcing out a shaky laugh. His heart was pounding against his ribcage like a hammer. His attempts to push the fear aside and lighten the mood were unsuccessful. "I think I've seen enough of Jungkook's horror movies to know that shadows can never be outrun."

Yoongi ignored him in true Yoongi-fashion, but Hoseok didn't mind. He hadn't expected a reaction or a reply, and he had most certainly not expected his half-assed attempt at a joke to actually elicit some type of reaction, especially when the atmosphere was as tense as it was.

As the two of them huddled behind their respective hiding places, Hoseok tried to keep still. It was hard. Really hard. How was he to control his shivering? Or the loudness of his heartbeat? Or the raggedness of his breathing? He was afraid the shadow could hear it. Or maybe even scent them. Or maybe it was already in the room. Maybe it had already found them, but they didn't know?

What if they were caught by this shadow? What if it killed them? Devoured them? Turned them into beasts? Ghosts? Undead? He shuddered as the idea of never being able to live normally again engulfed him. His heart accelerated and all fears, which had been ignored initially, surfaced. He gasped for air frantically, his senses going numb.

He and Yoongi were going to be turned into monsters. They would hunt their friends down, they would do horrible things, they would-

A cold hand grasped his shoulder and Yoongi's familiar presence appeared behind him. Hoseok was turned around slowly, his eyes catching Yoongi's warm brown ones. It brought him so much comfort that he almost forgot about the whole situation altogether. At that moment, only the two of them existed. No one else. No ghosts, no shadows. No monsters, no Halloween.

"We've lost the shadow," Yoongi said.

Hoseok snapped back to reality.

His breathing was slowing down, the pounding of his heart was starting to calm. It was as if Yoongi had flipped off a switch in Hoseok, as if he alone had the power to do so. As they sat in the same position for the next few minutes, Hoseok was very glad indeed that Yoongi was with him. Otherwise, he was sure that the bout of anxiety would have been much more nerve-rattling.

"Thanks, Yoongi," he said, as his breathing returned to normal. He noticed only then how close the two were... and how Yoongi's hot breath was caressing his neck. His cheeks warmed immediately.

"It's no problem Seok," Yoongi replied. His gaze lingered on Hoseok for another moment, before they looked back to the door.

"Where are we?"

"I don't know," Yoongi replied, "I just saw a door and ran."

"It could have been locked," Hoseok said.

"It could, but it wasn't."

"Well thank god for that. I don't what I would have done if we hadn't been able to enter," Hoseok said, his voice still slightly shaky. He was doing his best to keep it steady, but it was easier said than done. "How long do you think we should stay here?"

"I don't know," Yoongi replied, "But what I do know is that Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung are dead."

There was a dangerous glint in the older's eyes, one which hadn't been there before. In fact, Hoseok had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with his anxiety attack. He blushed even darker as he imagined how horribly embarrassing it must have looked.

"They didn't know there was going to be a creature lurking here," Hoseok said carefully. He was annoyed at them, sure, but he couldn't just let them suffer a sure death without protesting at least a little. Yoongi's threats before had been mild, serious, but mild. Right now, however, Hoseok was sure that they were very much dangerous (loud-telling-off-and-death-glares-for-the-rest-of-the-year-dangerous and doing-all-chores-for-the-rest-of-their-lives-dangerous). He could already hear the shitstorm the maknaes would be subjected to as soon as he and Yoongi arrived at home.

"But you had a panic attack because of them!" Yoongi burst out angrily.

"It's fine... They couldn't have known," Hoseok said.

"It's not fine! They should have checked that this place was safe!"

"Once we tell them what happened, they'll regret it enough. There's no need to make them feel even worse."

Yoongi huffed in response. For a moment, the two of them just sat there unmovingly. Thunder was booming outside and lightning illuminated the room suddenly and repetitively. The world around them was both loud and silent; it made the hairs on Hoseok's arm stand on end.

"I care about you," Yoongi said, "and it hurts to see you in that state. I..."

A small bit of hope surfaced within Hoseok, but he did his best to push it down again.

"I would hope you did, we are friends after all," Hoseok replied, forcing a small smile.

They were friends, nothing more.

"No, I think I should have told you this a while ago," Yoongi said. He was still staring at him with an expression Hoseok had never seen him wear before. Yoongi was biting his lip and avoiding eye contact. And then, Hoseok saw the blush. Min Yoongi was blushing. "I'm sorry if this ruins our friendship, but I can't hold it in anymore."

"You're scaring me," Hoseok laughed nervously. Lightning flashed behind him, It made the situation seem much more unbearable than it was.

Behind all the joking, however, his whole body reacted to the words. Was it really possible? Did Yoongi really have some sort of non-platonic feelings? As quickly as that hope surfaced, however, Hoseok let it go. It was never going to happen.

Yoongi hesitated, his mouth opening and closing every few seconds as Hoseok tried his best to concentrate on the sound of the rain. He tried desperately to distract himself from the scene playing out in front of him. Yoongi was giving him too much hope. Too much hope. He was going to fall. He was going to fall and crash down if he didn't control himself.

"I- Seok, I like you a lot," Yoongi said, stumbling over his own words, "And not in a platonic way."

The world seemed to stand still as if had been captured by a camera and all Hoseok could do was stare at the photograph. The patter of the rain disappeared and he stopped registering the lightning or the thunder. This was the moment he hadn't even dared to dream about.

Yoongi had just confessed to him.

He had... right? This wasn't some sort of hallucination? No... this was real, very much real. And all he could do was blankly stare. Then, as if he had been freed from a spell, he lurched forward and hugged Yoongi.

"I'm sorry really," Yoongi said, "For ruining our friendship."

"Oh god," Hoseok replied, "you don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

Hoseok pulled out of the hug, holding Yoongi's shoulders tightly. He was scared that if he let go, everything would disappear, that he would wake up in his room. With a deep breath, he pulled himself together, "I like you a lot too..."

They were close enough for their noses to touch. Yoongi's eyes flickered down to Hoseok's lips and Hoseok really couldn't help it. The urge to lean forward was strong, and then... he just gave in. Their lips met in the span of a millisecond. It was as if they had been made to fit together.

If it hadn't been for the overwhelming need to breathe, they might have stayed like that forever, heck, Hoseok was ready to give up the rest of his life to stay like th-

Click.

Flash.

They froze in their rather compromising position. Had that just been a camera? Who was there taking pictures of people kissing... More importantly, who was at this fair, on Halloween, standing in the downpour to take pictures outside the storage room of a haunted house?

Hoseok dreaded turning his head and when he did, he had to suppress a scream. What looked like a massive monster, at first sight, turned out to be three people. Three people Yoongi and he knew very well. His dongsaengs were standing in the doorway, dripping wet and smiling like madmen.

"What are you three doing..." Hoseok began, before trailing off as he looked down to the ground. Their shadow looked awfully like...

His head snapped to Yoongi. He could hear the growling and the older's quickening breathing.

This was going to be a massacre.

"Happy Halloween?" Tae said uncertainly.

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nickrbockr · 6 years

Text

Simon Vs Fan Fic: Chapter 10 - Lightly Down Unto A Pillow

Ao3

“Can I at least have the ring box?” I request from Dad in more of an order than a question.

Dad could see that it was about that time as he agreed to get the ring and went upstairs to retrieve it.

It was the day before our anniversary and proposal day. At the end of January is when the snow and slush in the streets stops being fun and starts being annoying. This winter break has been wonderful, filled with Abby and Nick explaining all of their fun stories, Leah taking our conversations to use as examples in her sociology finals, and Bram and I spending nearly every single second together.

School was due to start again, but I informed all of my professors before I left for break that I may miss the first few days of their classes. After I told them why, most of them smiled, nodded their heads, and told me they’d email me the syllabi and what I can work on before I come back. One of them even bought me a bottle of wine as a gift.

I finished the poem on New Years Eve with Bram laying on my chest. I both wanted him to stay and leave because I wanted to write the rest of the poem but I could never ask him to leave when he looked so comfortable and I loved seeing him there. The smell of bacon did, however, motivate both of us to get up as we came downstairs to Mom, Dad, Nora, Ian, and Alice.

“Good morning star shines,” Alice said sipping coffee.

“Alice is so cool,” Ian said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “She doesn’t know too much about soccer, but neither do you, but that’s okay, she makes up for it in smarts.”

“Thank you…what’s your name again?” Alice asks.

“Ian.”

I make Bram and I plates as my family makes small talk over their breakfasts. It was fun seeing everyone sitting and talking and getting along with each other. It made me think of Bram and I’s wedding day and how I would make him plan all of it, mostly because asking his parents, getting the ring, and doing what I’m doing for the proposal took a lot out of me. Plus I know he loves planning, especially with the logistics of a wedding.

I didn’t talk much at the table because I kept repeating the lines over and over in my head that I wanted to add to the poem. I would catch Bram stealing glances at me and it made me so unbelievably happy. I grabbed his hand as I repeated lines over and over again in my head while he ate with his free hand.

We finished breakfast and Bram had to leave as he was getting yet another call from his work. He kissed me on the cheek and ran out to his car. His butt looked so good when he ran; it was the best part of watching him play soccer in high school. Once he drove away, I rushed upstairs to write all the thoughts I kept repeating to myself over and over again through breakfast. I hope nobody said anything too important because I wasn’t listening at all.

There. I did it. I was finally done. I wrote the final poem on a clean sheet of paper and read it over and over again. This was it, I hope he likes it!

Bram and I celebrated his birthday a few weeks later where I was tempted again to propose, but I still didn’t have the ring and Bram deserved a ring. And the proposal, so I obviously didn’t say anything and the normally insightful Bram didn’t even notice my weird energy because he seemed preoccupied himself.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask him. His pensive stare was so stoic, statuesque, and sexy that when I broke his trance, I was a little upset with myself. “Thinking about school?”

“Yeah.” Bram said, a bit hollowly. “Like usual when we get back into the groove of being together we have to go back to being apart.”

“But hey, at least you didn’t have to take the January semester this year, that’s something. And we’re going to be able to be with each other this year on our anniversary.”

When Bram heard the word anniversary, he smiled and his rigidness began to melt as he leaned his head on me.

“You’re right, sorry. I want this year’s anniversary to be the best we’ve had so far.”

I couldn’t agree more. We took anniversaries very seriously since the day in his Honda Civic. It was a big step for him and an important deal for us. It was when, for the first time in a long time, either of us felt so…normal. Not having to hide and having each other every step of the way. It was the reason I wanted to propose on our anniversary, the meaning will be more than obvious. I kissed him on the forehead, knowing what was coming and him (hopefully) blissfully unaware of what was to come. That was last week and tomorrow is the big night.

Dad came back downstairs with a black felt ring box with a red bow wrapped around it. He handed it to me and I took it gently. I know Dad spent a lot of time finding this ring and I could see it in his watering eyes that it meant a lot to him to be a part of the proposal in this way. It’s always hard for sons to tell their fathers properly how much they mean to each other, gay or straight.

“Thank you so much Dad. You know, don’t tell Mom, but now you have the most involvement with the proposal.”

Dad let a smile grow in his face. “You know what, you’re right and I’m going to hold on to that feeling. Speaking of that, how are you feeling? Tomorrow will come super fast.”

“Yep.” I wasn’t as nervous as I could be because of Mom. Yesterday we went shopping and gathered all of the ingredients for dinner. It was nice to have her there to remember all the necessary items I would have forgotten and then I’d be serving Bram and I peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which he would love too but I wanted tomorrow to be more special than PB&J.

“It’s alight to be nervous, Si. They don’t call it float lightly down onto a pillow, they call it jumping in.” Dad is wise as he is nerdy. Now I know where I get it from.

I have the ring and that was the most important (and last) thing on my mental checklist. Leah was on her way over to help me hang the pictures again before she had to go to another reunion meeting at the high school.

“I just don’t understand why they need to meet with you so much.” I ask while we re-tabe the backs of all the cut out pictures.

“There’s a lot of logistics into planning such a big event, Si. Tables, chairs, caterers, hotels, the school itself, and everyone has an opinion.” She replies sticking a picture in an empty spot.

“But to have a meeting every other day the entire time you’ve been back from Yale? What did they do when you were not in Shady Creek?”

“Oh, they did fine. It’s just different when the date grows closer and closer people tend to become more flustered with already decided paths. Speaking of that, you’re calm?” Leah jokes.

“I kinda am…I think I’ve finally taken all of my family’s and friend’s advice. I’m starting to think I should have been doing this since high school, I feel great!”

Leah and I finish the collage of pictures and it looks even better than it did last month when we did it. Alice knocked on the door and Alice brought in the dozen roses I ordered.

“Alice? I thought you had to hit the road?”

“Me too, but it seems the weather has a different story.” She showed me her phone and her flight was cancelled. There’s a storm in Boston, so flights were grounded until further notice. “Apparently it could be a few days, so it looks like I’ll be able so see this proposal after all.”

I smiled so wide and hugged Alice as I took the roses and she patted me on the back.

“So what are you going to spell out anyway?” Alice asked.

“The idea is ‘Abraham,’ but let’s see if a dozen roses is enough.”

Alice, Leah and I all pluck off the petals and pile them up until only green stems remained.

“He loves me, he loves me not.” Leah said, jokingly. We finished spelling Abraha on the bed. I didn’t spell that wrong, we were out of petals.

“You could just disperse the amount of petals so you have enough for the ‘m.’” Alice suggested.

“But I like how the letters look with tighter petal overlap.” Leah commented.

“Or I we could just spell Bram?” I say.

Leah and Alice teamed up with me for a judgmental look.

“Oh, no, no, no, Simon.” Alice starts.

“No-no,” Leah adds.

“Are you proposing to him or are you ‘prop-ing’ to him?” They both walked up to me with glares.

“No nicknames?”

“Correct,” Alice said. “I’ll go buy another dozen. My treat, Bub.” Alice leaves the room and blows me a kiss. While she’s gone, Leah and I begin to unwrap and set up candles around my room.

“This has got to be a fire hazard. And what are your parents going to do with all these candles when you’re done using them for ten minutes?” She asked.

“I dunno, tell your reunion committee you have parting gifts.”

“Who would want to a partially used candle?”

“People who actually go to the reunion.” Leah shot me a look. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Speaking of which, I’ll be at school hopefully done with the meeting tomorrow night to be back to celebrate after. I promise I won’t miss it.”

I told my parents and the gang to come to the house around 10pm to have a celebratory drink. I guess you could say I did have some confidence Bram would say yes now.

“You better not, if I wanted anyone else there after Bram, it would be you.”

She smiles and winks at my as we finish strategically placing the candles around my room. We talked about how Nick and Abby still have not confirmed who the other person in their relationship and that made us think it could be someone from high school. That lead into speculation and more creeping on social media with old high school acquaintances who went to school or live in New York. During our investigation, Alice returned with another bouquet of roses. We shut the computer quickly and stared at her.

“I saw Simon do that only once, so I don’t want to know what you were looking at.”

She laughs as Leah gives me a disgusted look and I deny every claim they make. We finish spelling Abraham on the bed and it looks really good. So good that I realized I didn’t want to move it.

“Looks like the couch has my name on it.” I say. Ian flew back to Yale yesterday. Both Leah and I wanted him to stay, but the professors weren’t as forgiving to have him miss his first days. Alice sees the ring box with the bow from Dad.

“He finally gave it to you?” Alice commented. “That only took forever.”

“I have faith that Dad had his reasons and that it will be badass.”

“It will be…and Simon, your room. This all looks badass, good job.” Alice complimented.

“Now that I see it all together, it does Simon. Bram is going to love the collage.”

“Well, in the theatre world,” I start to Leah sighing and Alice making a fart noise with her mouth and hand. “In the theatre world! Sometimes the best way to build a good pay off is misdirection: have Bram notice the candles so I can shut the door which will lead him to the bed with his name spelled out so I can pull out the ring and get on one knee and by the time he turns around, he sees me, the ring, and the pictures of us. And he’ll be recently fed, so he’ll be in an even better mood.”

“Good planning, Si,” Alice commented. She said the words, but it sounded like there was a space of her feeling underwhelmed. I’m probably just looking into it so I look to Leah who is nodding her head in approval, so at least I have that going for me.

“Si!” Nora shouted from downstairs. “Bram is here!”

I smile like I always smile when I hear my boyfriend’s name, soon to be fiancé’s name.

“Remember, we all have to keep him out of my room. Which will be hard because we both like my room.”

“Not the only thing that will be hard.” Leah jokes. Ian has rubbed off on her. And now I guess so have I. Someone stop me.

“Ew, gross, you got it, Bub, we won’t let him anywhere near the threshold.” Alice promised.

We all head downstairs and there in a nice v-neck and black jeans was my beautiful boyfriend, sun setting behind him. I immediately go up to him and kiss him, extra long, extra hard.

“What’s that for?” He asks, coyly since we kissed in front of my siblings and parents.

“For fun.” I reply.

Leah had to go to her meeting she went to Creekwood as the family, Bram, and I all go to Waffle House for dinner. it was Alice’s idea to get as out of the house and to give more reason not to have Bram and I go to my room.

“So how’s relaxing been, Bram?” Dad asked. “Seems like you’ve definitely needed it by the way Simon’s made it sound.”

“Not the best,” Bram answered. Since the beginning of his break, the station and his professors have been calling him at least once or twice a day, he’s been typing away on his computer when we’ve been hanging out on the couch, and he’s been a little distracted lately. I haven’t minded, I love watching him work. He’s also been pleasantly surprised because I am not the completely needy Simon I have been in the past. Wonder where all this new confidence came from? “Even though I didn’t take the January Semester it feels like I still am. I may tell them to give me a few credits.”

“I hate to see you too stressed out, B,” I reply, rubbing his shoulder. He put his hand on my hand.

“Well, it should be over soon. Working for the station is fun, but finishing school at the same time is work. I won’t miss college, I guarantee. Simon, we should go on a nice, long vacation this summer or fall before we move to New York.”

I planned on that. As a wedding present, Mom and Dad offered to help pay for our honeymoon. In return, Mom made sure I promised to visit the house, with Bram, for no less than four major holidays per year. I think we could pull that off. I have a few places in mind once the proposal part is over and Bram and I can talk about it together.

Together. Together forever. God I like the sound of that. I squeeze his shoulder and his hand squeezes mine in response.

“I agree, you deserve a good vacation.”

Bram’s phone rings and he closes his eyes and exhales. He wipes his mouth and looks at the call. “Sorry guys, I have to take this.” He stands up from the table and walks outside to take the call.

“He needs to relax,” Mom said, staring at him through the restaurant window. “He’ll have the rest of his life to stress about work.”

We continued to chat and eat for a few minutes until I saw Bram hang up the phone and place his hands on his head. Alice followed my glance and looked at Bram too until until entered the doors. He’s so cute, but he looks so torn.

“Hey, Alice, can I talk to you outside?”

We all look at Alice who finishes sipping her Diet Coke and looks up at Bram. She is good at handling herself in awkward situations.

“Sure.” Alice gets up and looks to me with ‘don’t hate me’ eyes.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, kind of starting to get worried.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just a work related question that I don’t want to bore you all with. It won’t be long.” He shoots me a reassuring smile and my anxiety melts away. If there was a problem worth talking to me about he would. New Simon trusts his boyfriend.

Alice and Bram walk outside and we all try to not look as a group but all we can do is look at random times. When I first look, Bram looked like he was explaining something with Alice intently listening. I looked back at my plate and swirled around the last of my waffle in syrup. When I looked again, Bram paced as Alice spoke with a calm expression. I ate the last bite of my waffle and sipped my water and when I looked the last time, they were hugging. That’s a good sign, right?

They walk back in together and Alice yells from the front door, “Family, don’t be weird about this, let’s just finish eating, people are entitled to have conversations with other people in private.” The other patrons stared at them as they walked past the tables and finished eating. I turned to Bram.

“So everything is good?” I ask again, just to be clear.

Bram smiles. “Yep, Alice is a smart lady.”

He kisses my cheek and finishes his meal. Bram knows I’ve been better at being more confident and trusting and not second guessing but there is tiny, minute, microscopic seed growing in warmth below my stomach. I was becoming nervous. ‘It’s okay to be nervous’ I heard Dad’s words in my head, ‘it’s why it’s called jumping in.’ Maybe this was just proposal nerves and I was over reacting to my possible fiancé speaking to my sister in private outside a Waffle House. When I said it out loud, the growing burn went back to a subtle luke-warmness. The premise was laughable and a smile returned to my face as I placed my arm around his chair. I leaned on his shoulder and I could feel him chew.

Mom paid the bill and we all piled in the car back to the house. Nora and Alice were belted out ‘Ironic’ when it came on the radio to the entertainment of all of us in the car. When we got to the house, Bram pulled me aside.

“Hey handsome,” he started. He called me handsome when he was about to ask me a favor.

“Hi gorgeous,” I reply.

“Would you be mad at me if I went home? I had a late night last night and I have more work to do and I’d rather finish it tonight so it can be just us all day tomorrow?”

I pulled Bram to me and laid a warm, deep kiss on his lips. He went to pull back but I kept going and he stopped pulling away. I placed my hands on his cheeks and he placed his hands lightly on mine. When I pulled away, I could see his plump, moist lips and he bit his bottom one.

“Never, ever. I love you Abraham Greenfeld. When you need to work, you need to work. You’re all mine tomorrow.” I give him one light kiss and he smiles, but not as brightly as he usually does. “Seriously, last time I’ll ask, are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at me with his coffee brown eyes as the last remnants of the sun glisten in his eyes.

“I love you more, and yes.” He places his hand on my cheek and lean into it.

“Then go do what you need to do. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Bram walks towards his car and stops. His frame has never looked tighter and reminded me of a Greek statue. He didn’t move for a moment until he turned around and walked back to me with a quick pace. He kissed me hard. Passionately. Aggressively. I felt so protected as our lips moved in pressing motions against another and my knees started to feel weak. After what felt like five minutes, he slows his kisses until he pulls away and licks his lips.

“I love you, so incredibly, so deeply, Simon.”

“I love you so, so, so much. Now go before I change my mind.”

He smiles and this time goes to his car and leaves. I go back inside and my family is talking about tomorrow and how excited they are but my mind is still focused back on the minute burning of nerves. Leah only stays for about an hour before she goes home and then we all gather around the TV to watch more Bachelor episodes. After four episodes Mom, Dad, and Nora go to sleep and Alice stays next to me on the couch.

“I know you can’t stop thinking about what happened at dinner.” She said.

“It’s not just that.” I say. “It’s a combination of that and I’m nervous for tomorrow and I can sense Bram isn’t telling me something, but he wants to.” When I said this scenario out loud, it didn’t sound crazy like when I thought it back at the restaurant. The nervous burn grew a little in size. Alice exhaled loudly and didn’t say anything. She usually has something to say, whether it is helpful or hilarious, but this time she was just quiet. The burn grew again.

“Simon, trust Bram. Trust yourselves. Trust.”

Alice kisses me on the head and covers me up on the couch. I felt like she wanted to say more but knew not to say anything else. There’s nothing she could really say to me right now that would make me feel calmer. Except maybe Bub.

Everything I felt I learned over the past year with confidence, every part of me that has grown in my relationship was hinging on this moment. Will I fall back into old habits of self-sabotage or fall forward into progress?

My mind was going over everything it could, analyzing the last six months. Conversations with Bram, conversations about Bram with Abby, Nick and Leah, and it all didn’t have any raised flags. I scrolled through out texts as far back as my phone had saved them and it all came up nothing. I went through Bram’s social media presence that was low. He only appeared in tagged pictures on Facebook and barely used Instagram, both of which provided no insight. Perhaps I was just over thinking it.

I turned the TV on to try to allow the dull glow of Forensic Files to lull me to sleep. It was on low volume, I was warm, it was late, but nothing worked me into a restful state to fall asleep. A new episode was about to start when my phone vibrated. I closed my eyes not to sleep, but to prepare myself. It was three thirty-eight. Alerts at three thirty-eight were never good.

Bram Come outside. Please. . .. … I know you’re up.

He knew me too well. It took all of my strength to fight my gut instinct and plunge backwards into old Simon and start making wild accusations in my head, causing me not to be present while we talked. I breathed in and out for a few moments before I replied.

Be out in a minute.

I put on my coat and a hat and I go outside to have my glasses immediately fog in the cold weather. Through the fog I can see Bram’s car and the trail of exhaust coming from the tail pipe. I walk slowly towards the car, both because it was cold and I was even more nervous than before and wanted more time to prepare. I determined that whatever Bram had to say to me in person at three-thirty in the morning, I had to let him speak and I could not answer at all or I may not be able to hold back the vomit or tears or words I’m trying so hard to keep from coming out. Which is crazy because I don’t even know if what he says will be bad. But a part of me knows it’s not good.

I reach the door and I open it, getting in the front seat to a warmer car. The car door shut and my glasses fogged slightly in the change of temperature. Blurry Bram was still so cute, but his expression was very serious. I can also see in the back seat where there are bags. Not a good start.

“Simon.” Bram whispers, barely moving his lips, staring at his steering wheel.

I didn’t answer. I think Bram knew I wouldn’t…I couldn’t answer. He inhaled, looked down at his chest and shifted his body toward mine.

“I was going to drop a letter in your mailbox…but when I got to it, I couldn’t do it. You deserve better than a letter.”

I was starting to become a little numb, but not from the cold. The nervous fire grew inside me.

“I knew I had to tell you in person so you didn’t think I was a coward.”

Hold it together, Spier. I fought urges to speak as I sat in the passenger seat staring at the dashboard.

“The call I took at Waffle House…it was the station. They knew I was heading to New York after graduation and so they promoted me to give me on-air experience. For the next six months, I’ll be writing and filming my own news stories. I start Tuesday. I have to leave now to get back in time.”

The nervous fire was extinguished, but what was left was emptiness. It wasn’t bad news, but I also wasn’t thrilled. Bram put his hand on mine and squeezed and I squeezed back.

“I know how much our anniversary means to us and I guess I was so afraid of letting you down that I was…I just was so scared to tell you because this moment, right now, pains me so much.”

He moved his hand to my face and I fell into it. I looked at Bram and he moved his eyes away from mine. I was formulating what I wanted to say as he continued.

“But I know that our future is also important, for both of us. Not just my future, but our future. This could be a very big deal and help us settle when we move and –”

“Bram,” I finally say, moving my fingers across his lips. “Go.” It sounded harsher than I meant it and Bram shot me a weird, hurt look. I had to clarify because that look stabs me, shreds my insides, and leaves me breathless. “You have to go. This is a big opportunity that can be good for your career. And our future. It’s a no brainer.”

He exhaled hard as a tear fell from his eye. I wiped it away with my thumb and held back my own. I spoke in fragments to drive home that I meant what I said. He leaned in to me more.

“I love you so much. I love that you care so deeply about us. But I’m also not selfish enough to want keep you here if this is something you need to do. And we’ll have many more anniversaries to come.” Bram still wasn’t looking up, it was time to return the favor he sent me months ago. I started to sing softly as I leaned closer to him.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know, Bram, how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Bram squeezed his eyes and more tears fell out when he finally looked up at me with hazy pink eyes.

“We’re Simon and Bram,” I told him, pulling his face closer to mine. “Don’t feel bad at all, don’t feel guilty at all. We got this. I’m going to miss the hell out of you, but hopefully I can see you more than twice this semester.”

Our lips are just inches apart until I pull him to mine and lay a kiss upon them.

“I love you so much, Simon. I promise this will all be worth it.”

I remained silent. I needed to remain silent. If I didn’t, I’d cry myself and in a couple when one of you is hurting, the other has to be the lighthouse leading you out of the hurt. If both are lost, you may never find a way out. It’s why it took us so long in high school to find each other in the first place.

Since I have no words, I kiss him again, both our lips tremble. I click the handle and step out of his car. He rolls down the window as I shut the door and I lean in one last time.

“Text me when you land,” I ask. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle hearing your voice.” He nods quickly and wipes his face from the tears. I extend my hand to him and he grabs it and kisses it repeatedly and places it against his cheek. “I love you Abraham Louis Greenfeld.”

I pull my hand away from his warm cheek and with it goes the warmth from my heart. The window rolls up and Bram drives away. I’m left on the lightly snowy grass, cold, not being able to move, lost in thought.

When I walk back, it hits me that Bram left. Everything I’ve been planning since August has evaporated before four o’clock in the morning on the day of our anniversary. No more proposal. At least not today.

It knocked the wind out of me as I opened my bedroom to see all the candles and flower petals spelling Abraham. I felt so much weird pain, but we didn’t break up, but why did it feel that way? Why do I feel empty and Why can’t I talk to Bram about why I feel this way? I didn’t fall backwards, but I didn’t feel like I moved forward either. I just stayed put, is that better? When life is running forward, can you afford to sit on the track and let it out of your sight?

I lay on my bed on top of the rose petals and feel the lump of my poem notebook on my back. I kept it there to also remind me to memorize it. That was it, that was the trigger that caused me to bawl. Why does it feel like such a let down? It’s not like I won’t propose another day, but I wanted to badly to be engaged. I want to be Bram Greenfeld’s fiancé, I want to be Bram Greenfeld’s husband. And I know that’s selfish but I want to be selfish about Bram. ��I worked so hard with Elijah and Tracy and Mom and Dad and everyone else’s support. I guess it feels like not only was I let down, but I let them down as well.

It was still our anniversary and I didn’t want to associate this night with all the rest of them. Bram didn’t deserve my selfishness to affect our day. I pulled out my phone and decided to text Bram

Bram, I don’t want our fifth anniversary to be associated with either of us feeling this way. I did have some things planned, but there was one gift I have to give you.

I didn’t have to look at the notebook; I had it memorized.

Blue Oreos – A poem for Abraham Greenfeld

Blue Oreos Digitally sent in heart shapes Punctuation. Is. Key. To. Identity. Wrapped shirts Pinned notes Not ready for Spotlight But ready to grow Steps of a Baby Started light, became heavy Nothing we couldn’t carry Ferris Wheel, Tilt a Whirl We realized we weren’t for girls He saved me Beating hearts Touching skin Skipping Lunch Together again. College came, nothing changed We got strong We got game There may been doubt But not by us Because what I want Is You. Always you. Forever you. Us.

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