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t0t4lly-n0t-z4hw4 · 2 years

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Stay Calm (Even if there's Animatronics wrecking you).

Hi guys! I'm kinda bored rn, so why not make a tiny series!? This new series will be called "Making FNAF Tickle Fics Out Of FNAF Song Lyrics". As you read the title of this series, yes, I will be making FNAF Tickle Fics out of FNAf Song lyrics, but of course i'll be making this story by making the story in my head first, then write it down. But the stories in this series might be too short, so if you don't like short Fics, please read some other longer Tickle fics.

I'm so sorry if this is terrible, it's because I have no motivation at all. But I hope you enjoy this.

Characters :

Switch!Mike Schdmit

Switch!Freddy

Switch!Bonnie

Ler!Chica

Ler!Foxy

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Song : Stay Calm.

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TW : Tickling. Mentions of d3ath & k1ll.

Mike Schdmit was looking through the cameras in the pizzaria to see if the Animatronics had moved yet.

This was his second night he worked as the nightguard of the pizzaria, so ofcourse he's scared of the Animatronics would hurt him because he already knew the Animatronics could move by themselfs.

But there's a little secret About what the Animatronics actually do~

12:00

The clock showed the time, it's 12 am, Mike waited for the Animatronics to turn on.

Since this was Mike's 2nd night, he wasn't getting enough sleep due to nightmares he had after the 1st night, so he fell asleep (He also forgot that there's literally Animatronics ready to k1ll him).

The Animatronics are now awake, walking their ways to get to the office.

Freddy & Bonnie is on their way to the left door, and Chica & Foxy went for the right door.

Mike was still asleep, due to the sleepy feeling he had, he even was too sleepy to realize that there's 4 foot tall Animatronics ready to k1ll him.

Mike was almost awake, when he was almost fully awake, he heard a clanking noises that's loud enough to make him awake.

When Mike realize he was working, he jumped in surprised.

"Hey kids, nice to meet'ya" Freddy greeted, trying to be friendly after maneged to get into the office and see the nightguard in person.

"Are you ready for some Fazbear's pizza?" Freddy asked, offering the nightguard for some pizza.

"N- no, thank you" Mike said nervously, fearing the Animatronics might hurt him.

"Who's this, working at the nightshift?" Bonnie asked, wanting to know about the new nightguard.

"U- umm..." Mike mumbled, being too nervous at the Animatronics.

"I don't know, but I don't think I like him!" Foxy said, not really liking on the New nightguard.

After hearing that, Mike got a little offended, but too scared to ask him why Foxy didn't like him.

"He's so cute! I can feel his heart racing!" Chica said, excitingly diving in the conversation about the New nightguard.

"Another yellow belly bawking like a chicken" Foxy said, teasing Chica.

"Hey!" Chica yelled at Foxy for teasing her.

Mike giggled a little bit a the tease that Foxy was giving to Chica. Due to him bieng scared that the Animatronics might hurt him, he tried his best to hide his giggles from bieng heard by Chica, but Freddy's the only one who heard Mike's giggles.

"Listen gang, I say we... Dig in~" Freddy said, using his taunting voice for the last words to taunt the nightguard.

The Animatronics soon nodded then walked toward the nightguard.

Mike FROZED in place, not even trying to move an inch.

Foxy lifted Mike's hands up, and held it in place so that Mike couldn't move his hands.

Mike was too scared to fight back, so he just Immideately give up and closed his eyes shut.

But as soon as the Animatronics gets closer... Closer... And closer...

"Ahahahaha! Ehehehehe!" Mike laughed.

"He's ticklish!!!" Chica cheered, feeling happy after Freddy dig into Mike's sides.

"Wow! Just one little poke can make him laugh!?" Bonnie asked curiosly, trying to poke the nightguard's sides to see if he laughs again.

"Ahahahahay! Quihit ihihit!"

"Hmm... Humans are also ticklish, huh?" Freddy said, rubbing his jaw in a questioning look on his face.

Mike realized something in the words Freddy just said but his focus was ruined by Bonnie poking Mike's sides and ribs.

"Gahahahaha! Stohop!" Mike pleaded.

"Hmm... Bonnie, stop for a second" Freddy said, commanding Bonnie to stop tickling Mike.

Bonnie Stoped tickling Mike, listening to his Leader's command.

Freddy walked toward the Nightguard and poke the Nightguard's tummy.

Mike's reaction wasn't THAT much, he just jumps a little bit.

"From what i know, humans can react when their body is getting touched" Freddy explained, trying to remember something.

"H- how do you know i'm ticklish?" Mike asked, he REALLY wanted to know how did they know Mike's ticklish.

"A- aren't you going to k1ll me?" Mike asked, waiting for his destiny to come.

"K1ll you!? Psh! Don't be silly! We're not programed to k1ll people!" Chica explained. "Are you afraid that we might hurt you?" Chica asked, not wanting the Nightguard to be scared of her.

Mike looked away and just nods a little.

"Listen Nightguard, k1ll1ng is not out thing, but wanna know what OUR thing is~?" Freddy asked is his taunting voice but not trying to k1ll Mike.

"What is it, then?" Mike asked.

"This~" Freddy said in a taunting voice.

"Wha-hahahahaha! Wahahait!" Mike laughed, he couldn't finish his sentence because of the sudden attack.

Freddy was attacking Mike's armpits. That's one of Mike's worst spots.

"Wait- he's also could be ticklish somewhere else!?" Bonnie asked.

"Welp, we'd never know untill we try!" Freddy said in an experimental tone.

Freddy Stoped his attacks on Mike's armpits, this makes Mike called down a little bit.

Freddy took Mike's shoes off, and this scared Mike since Mike's feet are the WORST.

"Wait! Nonononononononono!! Please!" Mike pleaded.

"Hm? Please what? "Please tickle me more"? Oh, absolutely!" Freddy joked, not taking Mike's pleas seriously.

Freddy stroke Mike's so les, and Mike EXPLOADED.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOHOP STOSTOPSTOPSTOHOHOHOHOP!!!" Mike laughed.

"Wow, i think you're really ticklish on your feet!" Bonnie said.

"OHOHOH, YOHOHOU THIHINK!?" Mike said, replying to Bonnie.

"I think i like him now" Foxy said, he seemed to like Mike for Mike's laughter.

"Wow, he's REALLY sensitive! He's so cute like that!" Chica said excitedly.

"Yeah," Freddy replied to Chica "Just like we do"

Everyone including Mike gasped after what Freddy said. Freddy Stoped his attacks on Mike for covering his mouth after he said that.

"Great, Freddy! Now the nightguard knows our secret!" Foxy said to Freddy for revealing their deepest darkest secret.

"Um actually, just call me Mike" Mike said, explaining his name "Also, you guys are ticklish!?"

Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy nodded except Freddy still covering his mouth.

"Yes we do, but me and Chica are not very sensitive as Bonnie and Freddy does" Foxy explained.

"Foxy!" Freddy and Bonnie yelled at the same time. "Why do you have to say that!?"

"What? We get know his secret, so he also gets to know our secret!" Foxy explained.

"Wait, they do?" Mike asked curiosly.

"Yeah!" Chica replied to Mike. "Check this out!"

"Hehehehehey!" Bonnie laughed as his ears were attacked by Chica.

"Wa- HAHAHAHAHAIT!!! STOHOHOHOHOP PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!" Bonnie pleaded while laughed harder as Chica skittered her fingers across his sides.

"See!? He IS really sensitive!" Chica explained "I have to admit tho, he's kinda WAY more ticklish than you do, Mike!" Chica said, admiting Bonnie and Mike's sensitivity comparison.

"And don't forget about this guy!" Foxy pointed out at Freddy.

"GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THERE!!! NOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!!" Freddy pleaded, begging Foxy not to go for his belly.

"You see?" Foxy asked, "Freddy's VERY sensitive on his belly" Foxy explained, "I have to admit, Chica's right, Freddy and Bonnie are WAY more sensitive than you do" Foxy admitted.

Mike now realized that there's nothing to be afraid of the Animatronics. Instead, now he gets to have fun with the Animatronics.

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There it is! Finally! The Fic is done! I hope you guys enjoy it! I'm so sorry if this is so short! I hope you enjoy!

#Zahwa's Fics #Making FNAF Tickle Fics Out Of FNAF Lyrics #FNAF Tickles #I know this is the worst but please don'g bully me for this

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

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Remember the Rain

praying this is the final part of “Sunrise, Sunset” by the time i’m done omg ,, lamar finally talks it out with frank. i was tryna keep the titles consistent with a sky theme? wasn’t sure what to name this one at first, but i settled on naming it after a i song that i felt was sorta fitting lol ,, also lamar’s dramatic when drunk, that’s jus how it’s gonna be

oh and i included one last convo w/ that psychic lady bc each character got three opportunities to speak to her lol

The night Franklin and him fought was the third night in a row Lamar couldn’t sleep right. Then it became four. Then five. Six. He had hoped after the first couple days of Franklin being mad, that it’d all blow over and things would go back to normal. That he wouldn’t ever have to say anything about what he felt deep down. Even though he told himself he had to, he wouldn’t. He waited it out, and still hoped it would all just fucking blow over. That wasn’t what happened of course.

An overcast sky was spread over LS, light rain tapping against Lamar’s window. As cheesy as it was, it reflected how he felt. Another day had passed. Franklin wasn’t picking up, not even reading his texts, nothing. He called a couple times at first when the fourth day of the silent treatment occurred, then tried a few more times to contact him in the following days. It had grown into a long and sad string of texts.

franklin.

dog

plz

pick up

answer me

plz?

c’mon frank i told you i have nothin goin on with yo auntie

i wanna talk things out with you.

u ain’t let me finish explaining

text me when u read this. plz bro

He sighed. This was hopeless. He set his phone aside, still laying awake. A buzz came right after. Fucking finally, something.

fuck you

we got nothin to discuss

He didn’t know how to feel. This was fucking him up and he couldn’t think straight. He tried calling him once more, the ringing as he waited for a pick up mocking him. Voicemail yet again. How many messages had he tried leaving at this point?

for fucks sake frank pick up

u ain’t doin this to me rn

jus let me explain myself

He stared at the ceiling yet again, like it would have all the answers sprawled out for him. As he did, he focused on how the rain had picked up, coming down harder. Then he felt his phone buzz.

now stop blowing my phone up

i’m tryna sleep

Lamar was never one to be sensitive, but he felt so crushed right now that all he could do was cry silently to himself. He didn’t even have Chop around anymore to comfort him like he normally would whenever Lamar was going through something. Would he even see him again? He lived over at Frank’s now. Fuck. Did this mean they’d have to share custody now? If he wasn’t so upset, he most likely would’ve laughed at the idea of it. He was letting bad thoughts consume him, turning to a last minute resort of drinking to try stopping it. This kind of thing rarely happened to him, these kind of feelings weren’t common. He knew no other method of trying to stuff bad feelings down, working through a 6 pack of beer on his own, followed by a bottle of some type of random liquor. Anything to stifle the pain in his chest, although it didn’t accomplish much other than making him feel even more queasy. He left one last voicemail, choking back a sob. Or what he had thought would be the last one. He lost count.

“Franklin. Please jus’ talk to me already man. You- you believin’ what you wanna believe right now, you ain’t even givin’ me a chance. You my best fuckin’ friend, don’t that mean shit to you anymore? We.. homies n shit.” He sniffled, cringing to himself when he said the words “best friend”. Franklin was so much more than that to him.

“Ion… Ion think I can live without you in my life. You can’t hate me man that shit.. that’s fucked. This is fucked. I’m fucked.”

A strong feeling of humiliation hung around him for many reasons, one being that he was fully crying now, over the phone. He couldn’t get any lower.

“You jus’ mad right now. But you.. you won’t be, eventually. Right? Please get back to me soon. Please. I’d rather fuckin’.. die or sum’ than have you hatin’ me n shit. At this point I might as well.”

After hanging up, he decided to visit that site one last time. His tears blurred his vision, making it harder to type. The shit in his system didn’t help either.

lady

i fuckef up

thsi is yo faukt

What now? Why are you back?

frankljn hates me

He does? That’s not right.

damn straighy it fuckign isnt

No, I mean that’s not correct.

There’s no way that he could, even if it seems like it right now.

jus fuckin tell me whst to do

That’s out of my hands.

is not u fuckin wirch

*withc

*witch

Look, I really don’t know how else to help you. I don’t have any other visions to offer. You’re on your own.

They do say though, that dreams are visions themselves.

dont fukcin speak in riddles rn

Precognition, Lamar. Just have faith

prewhatnow

n yeah. faith. bc that helps so fuckn much

All I can say to you is good luck - it’s all coming together. Just wait.

th fuck does that mean?

It means that you’re stressing too much - you better sleep it off. Farewell Lamar. You’re gonna have a killer hangover you know…

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

The notification did nothing but make him more upset. He calmed down eventually, the crying and alcohol tiring him out. He blacked out soon after, not remembering when he fell asleep.

For the first time in a while, he dreamt about the two of them. The start of the dream showed a radiant sight before them, the sky lit up in a million shades. Chop was laying beside Franklin, head on his thigh. All three of them sat on a grassy knoll, a soft breeze blowing through each blade. Franklin turned, Lamar not taking his eyes off him since the dream started. He only noticed the sky’s wide color palette because the intensity struck Franklin’s face just right. He looked right into Lamar’s eyes, speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“You had so many opportunities. So many times, I thought that you would. I got my hopes up, you know. I waited. When Tanisha left.. I only had you.”

“Tanisha..”

“I still love her. I.. I think apart of me always will, but I love you just the same. Even if you drive me up a Goddamn wall sometimes. You both mean the world to me.”

Franklin looked back at the view ahead. A heavenly indigo replaced the vivid hues from before.

“But she’s gone now. Shit ain’t the same. All I know is you stayed when she didn’t. Even when she got pulled outta the hood and made some kinda new life for herself, you never left my side. Never changed yo loyalties.”

He turned back to face Lamar again. His eyes were glassy, the glow of the midnight sky reflecting in them.

“So why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?”

“Franklin.. I ain’t deduce that shit ‘til now.“

“You really didn’t know?”

Even in the dream he could feel that previous frustration occur in his mind. Was he hiding in a glass closet or something? He could only let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah man. I was a fuckin’ fool, jus’ like you always said.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, and Lamar came to the conclusion that he could listen to that laugh forever. Franklin’s face then fell solemn.

“Y’know I really thought that.. I really thought that you jus’ got with someone else. Not even jus’ my Aunt. I saw how you wanted to get away from me, and I thought…” He stopped himself, petting Chop’s head.

“I.. wanted to be happy if you was, but the thought of that at all bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you were all I had, dog. Mike n Trevor, they have their own lives, their own history n shit. I can’t always rely on them. Denise don’t give a fuck what happen to me. You my lifeline dog, I’ve known you for years. I didn’t want you to forget me over a chick or sum’. That day you acted all different n shit, it worried me.”

“Hey man, y’know I ain’t ever gon pull that shit on you. I’m with you for life.”

“Then don’t pull other kinda stupid shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“You can’t ever die on me bro. That ain’t how this shit works.”

“Ay man, I don’t plan on dying jus’ yet. Not unless yo ass by my side. Not ‘til I tell you I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Franklin got closer to his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes shone as the stars around them fell from the sky, akin to raindrops, hitting them. Everything about him was flooding Lamar’s senses, and it felt surreal, between his aroma and all the other things he loved about Franklin. Golden flecks covered them both, and the stars continued to crash down. The sky was growing darker than before.

“Just say the words Lamar. Say them and this shit’ll be over.”

“How?”

“Well first you need to wake yo ass up.”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up, fool!”

Lamar’s blissful dream had been interrupted by an unknown figure shaking him, literal raindrops hitting his face. He was still bleary eyed, only seeing a vague silhouette in front of him. A wet slap to the face rattled his brain around, the hangover settling in. Shit, was he still drunk? What time was it?

“Lamar! Get up!”

“Oh.. Th’fuck? Who- who that is?” He grunted out.

“It’s me you fuckin’ clown!”

“Frank?”

“Who the fuck else?”

“Why are you-”

He was abruptly yanked out of bed, thudding to the floor with a small “oof”.

“Get up you punk bitch!”

“Franklin what the fuck-”

He was grabbed again, tossed back onto his bed. Franklin straddled him, shaking Lamar by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He said, Lamar getting another slap to the face.

“What in the fresh fuck is you talkin’-” Another slap.

“15 fuckin’ missed phone calls! 15! Are you fuckin’ nuts?!”

Lamar’s eyes practically popped out of his head. 15? What the fuck did he say to him?

“I did what-”

Franklin shook him even harder by his shirt, stretching the material out. He was straining his voice now.

“You had me worried like fuckin’ crazy! I thought you was in some sorta fuckin’ trouble again! You blew my phone up when I told yo ass not to, and then didn’t fuckin’ pick up after I heard the first couple special messages you left me!”

Oh God. This was it. He told Franklin everything, didn’t he? The color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck me..” He mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes.

“What?!” Franklin yelled, shaking him again. Lamar’s head was pounding.

“Franklin.. what.. what I say on there? I barely remember a thing, let alone callin’ yo ass.”

“You seriously don’t fuckin’ remember?!”

“Yeah. Seriously, man.”

Franklin slid off of him, putting a palm to his face. He breathed through his nose hard, trying to calm down. Lamar realized he was drenched from the small downpour outside. Pellets of rain thumped against the window as a reminder that the storm never went away.

“You.. fuck, man. You started sayin’ all this shit about how bad a fuckin’ friend you was. That you, you was hidin’ all this shit and couldn’t live another day without tellin’ me.”

Okay. Good. He didn’t tell him the truth.

“You told me you wanted to die dog. Didn’t realize yo dumbass was safe n sound asleep in yo fuckin’ bed.”

“Oh.”

“…’Oh’? Is that really all you have to say?!”

“F, I was jus’ drunk. It was dumb of me, I know, but I.. It’s nothing, okay?”

“Don’t do this shit to me man! I’ve already dealt with enough of yo fuckin’ schemes n shit-”

“Frank.”

“It’s 3 am! You had Chop barkin’ his Goddamn head off the whole night!”

“Franklin.”

“Then I race my ass over here to find yo drunkass self passed out in bed-”

“Franklin.”

“What! What?! You finally gonna put yo two cents in for once?”

“Stop yelling. My head hurts like a bitch right now.”

“Good! I’m fuckin’ glad because I know mine does as well you fuckin’ asshole!”

Lamar looked pathetically up at him. This was getting out of hand. He let it go on for too long.

“Why did you come here then?” He croaked.

“Because you were fuckin’ sobbin’ into the phone! All I heard was you cryin’ like mad fuckin’ crazy and it scared me. You don’t ever do that shit, not even when you fucked up.”

“How much I say?”

“I got the first message pretty fuckin’ clear, the rest was jus’ incoherent bullshit. I barely got through the second one before speedin’ on over. You sounded hurt n shit, I thought something happened. I thought you was a goner.”

“No weird shit though right? I ain’t say nothin’ bad?”

“What? Lamar, what the fuck are you on about? I just told you what yo ass cried out to me! I couldn’t even understand any of the other messages!”

“Okay, okay. That’s.. good I guess.”

“That’s good? Fuckin’ hell, why did I come here? You- ugh!”

“Franklin. Can you jus’ sit down before you pop a fuckin’ blood vessel? You stressin’ for nothin’.”

If anything, Lamar should be the one stressing right now. He had been so close to confessing without knowing. Franklin sat next to him, arms crossed.

“Franklin.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well good fuckin’ job, you accomplished that real well didn’t you.” He said, sarcastically applauding him.

“I thought you were cutting me off for good homie. You think I was gon’ let that happen?”

“Lamar, that still ain’t a good reason to freak me out like that in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only cuz you hadn’t been listenin’ to me bro. I’ve been wanting to tell you somethin’ so badly lately and I never.. got the chance.”

“Then do pray fuckin’ tell LD, what the fuck is so important that you had to do this shit to me at 3 AM!”

“Franklin man, c’mon-”

“No! Don’t start!”

Franklin stood, heading for the door as he spoke. He stopped in the threshold.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with you, or I’m leavin’ yo sad ass here to wallow. I mean it L.”

“Don’t be like that. Please man. I want to, but I-”

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me! Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Frank-”

“I dragged my ass all the way over here for nothin’ didn’t I? You ain’t dead, you ain’t sayin’ shit, you jus’ bein’ so- ugh! Fuck!” He threw his hands up, exiting Lamar’s bedroom.

“I’m done man, fuck this.”

“Franklin wait- don’t go-” He pleaded.

Franklin did nothing but leave him stranded again, thunder rolling far in the distance. Lamar ran after him as he walked out the door, hearing the rain heavily hit the pavement. His mind was racing far ahead of him. Franklin was leaving, he was leaving for good, and he couldn’t. He can’t. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Franklin can’t do that, he can’t-

His mind had gone so far away, that he didn’t even realize that he had tackled Franklin to the ground. The two of them fell to the ground with a loud splat, followed by sounds of pain.

“Lamar what the fuck?!”

“Don’t go! Fuckin’ hell, I gotta chase yo ass and for what?!”

“Get off me dog!”

“No!” Franklin was pinned beneath him. The raindrops that rolled off of Lamar hit him in the face.

It reminded Lamar of when they were younger, playing football or whatever sport they could outside even as the deluge soaked them both to the bone. The roles had been reversed, with Franklin constantly knocking him down onto the grassy sludge. They got quite an earful from Lamar’s mom as they tracked mud in the house upon returning. It was a memory amongst many that stuck with him like glue. Those memories couldn’t go away. Franklin couldn’t go away.

Tears mixed in with the rain as he yelled out to him.

“You fuckin’ idiot! Why you makin’ this shit so hard for me?! You keep leavin’ before I can even finish!”

Franklin struggled to break free from Lamar’s grip on his wrists, huffing as he looked away.

“Look at me!” Lamar shouted, grabbing his face with a free hand.

“I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell you like this, but Jesus Christ! For fucks sake you stubborn asshole-”

He was doing it. He bit the fucking bullet.

“You know how we got into that fuckin’ argument last week? When I told you that I was dealin’ with that whole love thing, I wasn’t talkin’ about yo Aunt, a hoe, nobody else! I was talkin’ about you!”

Lamar threw himself off of him, stumbling backwards. Franklin propped himself onto his elbows. He finally said it. He said it, and he was far from finished.

“But you didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen! And now I’ve fucked our friendship over for a second time! All because of you! This whole thing has been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane lately, and I couldn’t do shit about it! I tried so, so hard to avoid this, but nothin’ ever goes my way, huh?! Every time I think a plan of mine’ll work, it doesn’t! You know why?!”

Opening his arms wide, he spoke loud and clear, finishing his rant.

“Lemme remind you: I’m Lamar fuckin’ Davis! The biggest fuckin’ fool, fuckin’ clown, fuckin’ whatever you wanna call me! Lamar Davis, the most naïve bitch on the planet! Fuck me for thinking that this would ever go well!”

Now it was his turn to leave. But he didn’t go back into his house. His legs moved for him, walking in no particular direction. He just needed to get away from Franklin, not caring about how damp his clothes were now. He was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was from the rain or the range of emotions he was flying through.

He could hear a pair of sneakers squishing behind him. Franklin was running, and he was catching up fast.

“Ay Lamar! Get back here!”

Oh fuck. He was chasing after him now. That’s not good. Lamar started running himself, not caring about possibly slipping and falling on his ass. Only a few hours ago, he had told himself he couldn’t be without Franklin. Now all he wanted to do was run away.

“Lamar!”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t fast enough. The second time they hit the ground, Lamar had the wind knocked right out of him, the duo splashing right into a puddle. Hands gripped his shoulders, flipping him around.

“Lamar!”

There were only a few instances in his life where Lamar felt small. He’d always been big in character, big in height, and according to him, big in other ways. But this was one of those moments where he couldn’t help but flinch, wanting to collapse in on himself. He was so tired.

“If you gon’ beat my ass or somethin’ jus’ get it over with.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tight.

When he felt nothing but raindrops touch his face, he opened his eyes slowly. His heart sank when he did. Franklin was visibly upset, guilt in his eyes.

“Lamar. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. Oh. So that’s what precognition meant. Motherfucking psychic lady.

“You should’ve jus’ told me man.”

“I tried dog. You wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Cuz I.. I thought you got with someone. I didn’t wanna hear it straight from yo mouth if you was.”

He shifted up, Frank sitting in his lap.

“Y’know I always thought that.. Part of me jus’ kinda thought that it’d always be the two of us. I’m never gonna get Tanisha back.. but you..”

Franklin looked away.

“You a crazy ass loyal motherfucker man. You stuck by my side no matter what, and some dumbass part of me was convinced that you… I mean fuck, so many times I thought you would jus’ flat out say something. Somethin’ so I could stop waiting for the one other person I had known forever to just say that they fuckin’ loved me like that.”

Lamar blinked, rainwater getting into his eyes. It wasn’t quite as serene as his dream had been, nor was it verbatim, but Lamar didn’t care. There was something about the way the water droplets sat along Franklin’s face, highlighted by a streetlight behind him that made him look angelic.

“When you started actin’ all weird it jus’.. made me so fuckin’ mad man. I thought you was gon’ pick someone else over me. Jus’ like Tanisha did.”

“Franklin..”

“So why didn’t you jus’ say somethin’ sooner? I waited. Hell, I don’t even know why I did at first.”

“Franklin.”

“But now I’m realizin’ you must not have even noticed yoself what you was feelin’, when I fuckin’ did. I noticed and you didn’t and-”

Lamar grabbed him by the face, grip surprisingly strong after being in the rain.

“How many times do I gotta say yo name for you to hear me?”

The rain kept falling, never slowing for either one of them. Yet, it felt like time stopped. Lamar chuckled lightly.

“Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis. Two of the dumbest motherfuckers in LS. Homies for life.”

“Yeah. Homies for life.”

His hands never left Franklin’s face. He pressed their foreheads together, lowering his voice.

“I love you, bum ass bitch.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

He kissed the top of his head, moving his hands down to embrace him in a tight hug. When was the last time they did this? As he thought it over, he could hear Franklin’s voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that again. Next time save us both the trouble n jus’ spill yo heart out. Dramatic motherfucker.”

The words had no malice in them, Lamar feeling him smile as he said it. He kissed him once more, and they just sat in the rain, feeling it bathe them in fond memories.

//plz listen to remember the rain by 21st century it’s so good 💔😭 anyway ya i decided to end it on a sorta happy note !!!!! franklin is a stubborn guy smh,, sorry for any typos lol also i rlly had no idea where i wanted to go with this so sorry if it’s weird or whatever

#grand theft auto 5 #gta v #lamar davis #franklin clinton #franklin/lamar #framar #one sided pining #but with a twist #mutual pining #i told y’all frank was hiding sumn

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

heather • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

[based off the song heather by conan gray]

requested: OMG I HAVE AN IDEA IDK IF ITS GOOD AND IDK WHY IM TYPING IN ALL CAPS BUT CAN U DO A FIC WHERE LIKE ITS BASED OF YHE SONG HEATHER BY CONAN GRAY WHERE THE READER AND RICH HAVE BEEN BEST FRIENDS FOR SO MANY YEARS AND HAVE FEELINGS FOR EACHOTHER BUT THERE BOTH SO OBLIVIOUS- SO WHEN RICHIE LIKE GETS A GF ONE DAY THE READER JUST WHSKWHDIWHWIW IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT LIKE AT THE END THEY REALIZE THEYRE IN LOVE. SORRY IF ITS TOK SPECIFIC. LOVE U. IM RUNNING OUTTA CHARACTERS

warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, themes of cheating but no actual cheating, angst, fluff at the end, unedited.

thank u guys so much for being so patient with this fic <3 love u all so much!

[losers + reader are 18+ in this.]

4.4k words

(also, this fic starts with a flashback and idk if i like this style, but lmk if it works)

♡

the persistent beat thudding in your ears seems to do nothing more than dim your already low mood as you sip on lemonade by yourself in someone's basement bar, sitting on an uncomfortable metal barstool and leaning your head heavy against your chin.

these days, it seemed as though the world was painted in gray.

you look around almost lazily; bev and ben went outside in the snow a couple minutes ago, stan just took a girl upstairs - you're left alone now, because mike and eddie had to study for their exam and bill was feeling under the weather. and richie, as usual, was late.

there's almost twenty other people in the room right now, but you have no desire to speak to any of them. you've been trying to have fun tonight, but you're just having a hard time, feeling distracted and unable to stop thinking about wire framed glasses and a certain bright smile.

your wandering eyes halt your thoughts as a girl in your class - heather perez - catches your eye from across the room, her hair falling in natural curls that makes you sigh in envy. she smiles and waves at you warmly, gesturing for you to come and sit with her. you swallow and look down into your cup of dreary, graying lemonade as you try not to think about how you look in comparison. she's so fucking pretty. you look back up and shake your head with a friendly smile, faker than a plastic flower, and nod to the bathroom. she shrugs and smiles, turning back around.

she was too sweet, it hurt.

her naturally dark hair, long and wavy, her smooth dark skin, her laugh.... but suddenly, your head snaps back up after recognizing a familiar sight on heather's figure.

-is that richie's sweater?

your heart thumps and churns in the most unsavory way as all the breath leaves your lungs in one swift exhale. you feel sick to your stomach and your hand falls to hit the counter to stabilize yourself, the lemonade sloshing out of the cup slightly. but you pay no mind. heather's wearing richie's sweater...

you know that sweater really well. it's definitely his, and for some reason that makes you want to cry.

you blink and force yourself to suck air into your lungs as you look around quickly, anywhere but at heather perez wearing richie tozier's sweater, with all the stripes and patterns and the rough polyester material. you're not sure why you're so caught off-guard, you knew that heather perez was maybe-kinda-sorta seeing your trashmouth. he'd mentioned it in passing a few times and you've not been able to keep it off your mind as bev and bill whisper to richie about it in the halls or during hangouts when you were laying in stan's lap pretending not to hear it.

it hurts, though. holy hell, does it hurt when richie turns the corner and the typical, 'hey, richie!' choruses through most of the people in the basement - and yet his eyes are just set on her.

it hurts even worse when you make eye contact with him and he smiles at you, nodding in greeting and calling a "hey there, toots!" over the thumping of the noise before turning back towards heather.

your heart thumps erradically as you eye him sliding an arm around her shoulders easily, pulling her into his tall lanky frame, crushing your chest and deflating your trembling heart. heather's head falls onto richie's shoulder and you shiver, feeling colder than you've felt in so long. the lemonade you force to your lips tasting like stale water as the sight of richie pinching heather's shoulder and thumbing his own sweater on her frame make you feel empty.

even now, weeks later, you remember how it felt. you sip on the boiling tea and immediately burn your tongue, making you swear as you stare out your window, the snow falling around your house in the dark making you feel an odd, empty kind of peace. that fucking sweater.

you haven't talked to richie in almost a week and a half - he got in trouble the night after the party and his parents took his phone away - at eighteen years old, his parents took his phone - so that he could 'spend time with family' (a task that made you chuckle to yourself when bill had explained it to you about twelve days ago).

it's winter break, though, and you've been missing the last piece of your eight-person puzzle the last few times you've hung out with your friends. it feels empty without richie's boisterous shenanigans, snarky looks and goofy comebacks... you feel really embarrassed for missing him so deeply.

tears well up in your eyes as you think again about his damn sweater, the one that heather was wearing, the same one he'd given you not even three weeks prior.

"well look at you." richie says with amusement trickling through his voice like melting icewater through a calm creek. you spin towards him with a grin eclipsing your face as you shrug around his sweater, pretending not to smell his strong scent and pretending not to feel the immediate comfort it gives you.

"you know, for as dumb as it looks, i kind of like it." you tease, brushing some hair back from your eyes as the sweater sleeves fall back down past your hands. he laughs, eyes not leaving you for a second.

"shit, doll. keep it." he says, sounding serious. it makes you pull a face at him, starting to lift it slightly over your head to return it to its rightful owner.

but he shakes his head, hands gently gripping your arms and halting your motions, subsequently setting your heart on fire. his lips are set in a gentle grin as he shakes his head again. "it looks so much better on you."

it's spoken simply, in such honestly that it makes you blush nearly immediately. in fact, you're so flustered that all you can do is shove him a bit, stuttering out a quiet, "shut up, richie, you- i - okay, whatever."

it makes him chuckle as he takes the soft blow of your hands against his shoulders, deftly running his hands through his curly locks as he shakes his head. "you're adorable, kid."

you're lucky he'd turned around to gripe around on his messy bed for his laptop, because the stupid grin you're sure is painting your face is enough to make you dig your own grave and then hand him the shovel. if only he knew how much you liked him.

you didn't keep the sweater after that night, though. at the time, you'd told him it was because it was putrid; that the colors and patterns were a sin to man and that you'd never be caught dead wearing it out. he laughed the whole time because you had literally worn it to the store with him it with him that same day. but now, you'd give anything for richie to give you that sweater again, to feel that polyester inseam fall against your stomach and your arms and chest, like a huge richie hug (without all the bones and the cologne and the caffeine-pulsing heartbeat - so not a real richie hug, but as close as you could get to the real thing without actually just having it).

god, you like him too much. you rub your face with your palm, the moisture from the tears that had accidentally escaped your eyes smudging against your face. you're tired, almost - it's like an empty, heartbroken exhaustion that sags your shoulders and chokes your throat and makes you zone out for minutes at a time. one thought overwhelms you right now, so as you see a car's headlights shine out your window through the falling snow, you don't even notice it.

you just wish you were heather.

you've tried to hate her. really, you have - you figured maybe, just maybe, if you were able to rant to bev or eddie about how much of a bitch heather is, how she's terrible to richie and how boring she was, maybe you could justify the heartbreak in your chest.

but god, she's so perfect. heather, with her shiny hair, bright smile, her flawless mind and caring heart. she's, as far as you're concerned, an angel. of course richie would choose heather, who wouldn't?

the other day at that party, you'd tried your hardest to ignore your intrusive thoughts, but you can't help feeling like it would all be better if heather didn't exist. and even that thought alone hurts your heart, because you remember the smile on richie's face when he looked at her, swathed in his sweater and floating around the room like a beacon of light.

and you could never, ever in good conscience take that from richie.

you almost laugh at how absurd it is - now you're talking to yourself while you stare out the window, half asleep, dreaming of freckles placed just like constellations and crooked noses, of jawlines that jut out and long, lanky fingers; of loud, chipping laughter and beat up high-tops with cuffed corduroy pants.

"y/n?" a voice behind your door makes you jump a bit, unsettling your already disconcerted bones. you’re imagining him, now? you laugh into your scalding mug for a second, but after a double-take at the doorway you find the angel himself to be standing there with a perplexed look.

"richie, what're you doing here?" you ask, rubbing your eye to make sure no tears are left. he looks troubled. "i knocked, but nobody answered. so..." he says with a shrug, and you ned, tucking a leg under yourself and nodding.

"what are you doing, toots?" he asks, backlit by the hallway light. and then you finally can see what he's wearing, and you almost laugh at your own misery.

but you don’t laugh, your brain short-circuiting as you feel the knife twist further into your abdomen. the stupid fucking sweater.

“-um, nothing. y- did you get that back from heather?” you try to deliver the line as smoothly as possible, but by the look on his face, you did a real shit job at that.

“what?” he asks in an exhale as he shakes snowflakes from his hair and shoulders, closing your door as he walks towards you and falls to sit next to you on your windowsill seat.

“i thought you gave her that sweater.” you say and he raises a brow, “yeah, like two weeks ago.” he says slowly, eyeing you. he adds, “she obviously didn’t need it after that.”

you frown, “did she need it then?” you didnt try to sound bitter at all, but your voice comes with more of a sting than you’d anticipated.

as always, richie meets fire with fire. “it was twenty fuckin’ degrees out, she was wearing a tank top.”

you don’t know what to say so you just stare out the window with a quick huff, crossing your arms. "why does it matter? it's a sweatshirt." he mutters. "i was just being nice to her."

you nod, pain twisting around in your stomach. he's right, it's just a sweater. but he gave it to her, because he likes heather better.

“what’s up with you, kid?” he asks, gentler this time.

“don’t call me kid, richie.” you say sharply, not meeting his eyes. “and there’s nothing up with me.” you know you’re being difficult, but you really don't have the energy to argue with him right now.

it’s quiet again, and the silence is even more awkward. you take another scalding sip of your tea.

“um, y/n... is this because of heather?” he says after a bit. you feel the tension that the acknowledgment brings as it hits you in the thick, cold air. richie’s tapping a rhythm on his thigh, so you can tell he feels it too.

"richie." you say weakly, your voice coming out too quiet, too obviously broken and exhausted. "i cannot do this. please don't do this right now"

he blinks at you, eyebrows furrowed. "sugar, i'm so lost right now."

you decide to change the subject. "-why'd you come over?" you ask, actually looking at him then immediately regretting it. he looks hurt and confused, like a lost puppy.

"oh. um, i just need to tell you something.it's about heather, too." he sounds anxious, and you roll your eyes, looking down at the tree outside your room as wind blows powdery white mounds off its branches.

“can this just wait until tomorrow?” you whisper. doesn't he get it?

it's quiet and for a moment you believe that he's going to leave it, to not bring up the obvious jealousy brewing in your chest. but he breaks the silence too soon.

"i tried to kiss her." he says and you immediately look towards the door, the most immediate escape possible.

your breathing gets heavy; if you have to hear this, you know you'll admit your feeling to richie, and you don't want to do that to him. but you have a suspicion that he already knows.

"richie, i'm so, so glad to see you. and that you like heather. really, i am. but- it's not a good time. i'm not- i'm not okay." you say, voice thick as tears well behind your eyes.

richie’s eyes widen almost comically as you make eye contact and his hands immediately find purchase on your arms, his thumbs rubbing in the way that he has done ever since that one foggy summer you spent in the sewers. "y/n/n, what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asks, watching sadly as a tear slips from your cheek. it breaks your heart when he calls you sweetheart, and you shake your head.

you can't tell him the truth - that you love him, so instead, you mumble, "i've missed you. there's a lot going on, and i just really need you."

he looks guilty as he pulls you into a warm hug, one that takes you off guard but that you return gratefully. "you've been too busy spending time with heather and with your parents, and i understand that, i just - you know, i miss you." you say, voice muffled as your cheek is squished into his shoulder. he sighs shakily, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “i know i’ve been with her a lot, i’m sorry sugar.” he mutters.

it feels like you’re both holding something back from the other.

"i wish i were heather." you say against his shoulder, knowing richie’s completely unaware of the depth of your statement. but he pulls back and stares at you, an unknown look on his face. you open your mouth to say something, but you're cut off before you can get anything out.

and his lips fall against yours lightly, almost as if they’re ghosts against yours. his presence feels fleeting.

you barely close your eyes and press closer to him before you snap out of it, jerking backwards with wide eyes.

richie’s eyes fall open too as he looks at you questioningly. your heart is thumping heavy as you shake your head, more shocked than you thought ever possible. “what?” he asks, as if he’s surprised you’re not kissing back.

you give him a sad, broken look. you think you’ll cry as you mutter, "why would you ever kiss me? i'm not - i'm not nearly as pretty as her, i'm just-"richie suddenly looks like he might get sick, his face paler than usual as the steam from your tea dwindles idly between you. he cuts you off. "-why are you - why are you saying all these things y/n/n-”

“heather. you like heather.” you say frantically, trying to remind him so you dont have to live through this fresh faced heartbreak twice as painful if he kisses you again.

but richie shakes his head, and your confusion skyrockets just as much as your heartbeat."no. a-amy asked her out." he says breathlessly. "-she said yes."

you blink, pulling even further away as it dawns on you. "wait. so... so you only want to see me after the girl you wanted finds someone else?" you ask, watching as the smile gets smacked off of richie's face so quickly you think it may give him whiplash. "wait, no-" he starts, but you shake your head.

“richie, do you understand how hurtful that is?” you say, voice heavy as you try not to let tears fall.

he shakes his head, eyes glossing with tears as he gapes at you, “n-no, y/n-“

“fuck, richie. i know you know about my feelings for you. how could you do this? i’m not heather, i’m reminded that every time i’m in the same room as the two of you. she’s had you completely mesmerized for the last month, you can’t just use me to distract yourself.” you say, your tea completely forgotten as a tear escapes your eye.

he shakes his head, looking at you with an emotion you don’t have the energy to decipher. “leave, richie.” your voice is broken and it shakes as you look away from him.

you’re not sure what you were expecting, but when richie stands up silently you dont even look away from the window. you see him wipe his cheek in your peripheral before he sighs quietly and walks out of your room, shutting the door quietly.

you cry openly as you hear your door shut downstairs, your hands shaking as you cover your face, your shoulders shaking with sobs. you make it under your covers just as you hear a car engine sputter outside, your heart empty and lips still tingling as the feeling of richie’s lips linger on yours. you groan into your pillow and let out another sob, your eyes squeezing in agony as your heart feels like it’s ripping in two.

because even if they’re not together, richie still likes her.

why couldn’t you be heather?

you cry until you’re asleep, your now cold mug of tea resting on the windowsill as your phone charges next to you and snow swirls in the dark sky.

when you wake up the next morning, your headache is nearly blinding. you feel like crying more as you remember last night. you roll over and rub your eyes, unlocking your phone groggily.

but you check your notifications and your heart immediately stops as you see a missed call from richie at 3:49 in the morning last night, and a voicemail left a minute later.

well, you guess he got his phone back.

your fingers tremble as they hover above the play button, feeling like you may vomit from anxiety - the message he left is two minutes long.

closing your eyes, ready for even more heartbreak, you press play and hold the speaker to your ear.

“um, y/n.” the voicemail starts off, and you’re already tearing up because richie’s voice is full to the brim with anxiety and he’s not using his usual nicknames for you.

“uh... okay, i- i know it’s four in the morning, and you’re probably asleep - god, i hope you are, and that you’re not ignoring me. not that i dont deserve it, but i just want you to get good rest. uh, a-anyways. fuck,” there’s an awkward pause and you’re holding your breath.

“you know i’m not good with phone calls or voicemails-“ his rambling just adds to your anxious feeling, but you think if you don’t listen to this, your anxiety would eat you alive.

“- fuck, i don’t know how to say this. kind of ironic, i guess, since i’ve been thinking about saying it like every day for probably more than a year- okay, i’m... god, spit it out, trashmouth.” his voice gets thicker and you can hear the emotion as he takes a shallow breath.

“y/n/n, you make my hands shake. i swear, my heart feels like it’s going to backfire and explode when we touch... and it scares me so fucking bad.” you feel your heart halt in your chest, the air leaving your lungs.

you keep the phone pressed tightly to your ear as richie’s recorded voice goes on.

“-fuck, y/n. i’m terrified. sometimes i think.... like, whoever created me... they designed me just to be yours. and... it’s not in the same way i feel about bev, or bill, or eddie-“ his voice breaks as he sniffs on the other end and it dawns on you that he’s crying. “-you’re you. you’re y/n. i tried to like heather as more than just a friend. but...” it’s silent for a second.

“i just kept comparing her to you. i do that with everybody. i think i’m broken. i love you so much that it hurts.” he’s crying enough by now that it’s leaking into his speech; he’s hiccuping, stuttering slightly, his inflection changing as you can almost picture the tears rolling off his thick eyelashes and onto his rosy cheeks.

“-and i can’t sleep right now knowing that i hurt you like this. i can’t believe that i let you think of yourself as lesser than heather in any way-“ he sobs quietly in the recording and takes a stuttering breath. "i can’t believe i put myself before you. i’m such a shitty friend. i should’ve been giving you my stupid fucking sweaters the whole time.”

tears are pouring out of your eyes as you sit up, ripping the comforter off your legs. you’re pulling on socks and your shoes as you continue to listen to richie’s voicemail.

“i’m sorry that i kissed you, and i’m sorry that i dragged you into this m-mess, that i used heather as an excuse to ignore my feelings for you. i-i love you so fucking much, and i’m just so scared of hurting you. i’m so sorry that i hurt you, y/n.”

you have to see him.

“-and, um, i’m sorry i left this voice message. this is probably the worst way to find this out but i figured that it would be easier for us to ignore if it wasn’t in person- y’know, because you don’t have to respond. just- now you know. that i’m sorry, and that i don’t expect you to forgive me or want to speak to me for a while. i just- i need you to know that you’re so loved, y/n. and that you deserve so much better than me.

“so, um, okay. i’ll let you sleep now. b-bye.” he whispers the end and then the line cuts dead.

you’re left with shaking breath and tears in your eyes as his voice rings in your head. you try to take in what he’s just said, but you think you’re about to pass out.

how can richie love you back?

you brush your teeth almost aggressively as your heart beats erratically in your chest and then you’re suddenly flying down the snowy road towards the tozier’s house.

you realize too late that you look completely awry, hair unbrushed, eyes puffy and swollen, shoes untied as you knock on the front door of richie's house.

went opens the door, richie’s younger sister sat on his hip as he smiles at you, "y/n! long time no see. richie's upstairs in his room."

you smile at him in thanks, too rushed to say anything to him or munch. then you’re all but sprinting up the stairs, only feeling the anxiety as you throw open the door to his bedroom.

you're relieved that he's laying in his bed, surrounded by pillows and fluffy comforters as he jumps from the noise of your arrival.

when he sits up, neither of you say anything. his eyes are red and rimmed with tears, a heartbreaking sight as his lower lip trembles slightly. you're sure you look the same as you take a step towards his bed, your eyes not leaving each other's for a second.

he looks incredible, still.

"y/n..." he whispers finally, his eyes wide. "did you get my message?" he says, lips tilting in a stupid, forced smile. his voice holds no humor in it's sad thickness, though, and you sigh as you look down to the carpet.

you shake your head, "can you not joke for a minute, rich?"

he laughs wetly, standing up fully and although he towers at 6'0, he looks so small. "i can try, doll, but then i'll start to cry a lot, and that's just not what anybody wants-"

"richie." you say, effectively ceasing his rambling. it's cold in his room, bright white from the snow outside, and silent. he looks at you with huge eyes and a red nose.

but you don't know what to say. you’ve spent so long wanting to be heather, but now you've found out that richie's loved you this whole time. it hurts, but you can't wait another second being away from richie.

you launch yourself towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to your mouth.

this time, the kiss is warm, unexpected again but much more loving. it's a kiss that tastes like tears and love and trust, and all you can feel is richie as his hands find purchase on your cheek and back, pulling you so close to him that you can feel is rapid heartbeat.

he pulls back to mumble against your lips, "i'm so sorry." you shake your head, pressing another kiss to his and loving the feeling of richie against you finally. "i love you." you say, feeling his grin against your mouth.

"i love you so much." he says, pulling you lightly to fall onto his bed with him and tickling your sides.

you laugh lightly, swatting at his prodding fingers. "please stop crying." he whispers, laying above you with a small smile. you roll your eyes, "you stop crying rich." you retort, and he shakes his head, one of his tears falling onto your cheek. you jump from the feeling and wipe it away, sniffling a gasp and pulling him into a tight hug, his legs tangling with yours.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles. you cup his cheeks so his lips pucker out and you smile at him, whispering, “i forgive you, rich. i love you.” and then you place a soft kiss to his lips and he kisses you back enthusiastically. he pulls back and hugs you again, burrowing himself in your neck.

"i didn't think i'd ever get you." he says, muffled by his face in your shoulder. "thank you for trusting me. i love you so much." he kisses your collarbone lightly and your fingers play through his curls lightly as you smile, eyes closing. you're so tired.

"i love you more, richie."

you fall asleep with richie curled up beside you, his breath light on your chest and arms clutching you against him. you fall asleep with richie’s lips on your neck, his legs entangled with yours.

you fall asleep contently, knowing that you no longer have to wish you were heather.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @brxken-heartsclub @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters <33

#richie tozier x reader #losers x reader #losers club x reader #jewish richie tozier #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #beverly marsh x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #ben hanscom x reader #mike hanlon x reader

280 notes · View notes

magniloquent-raven · 4 years

Note

for fluff: "one more chapter" or "there's enough room for both of us"

it’s been 84 years............ but here u go lmao tysm for the prompts!!!!!! i used both!

CW for some brief suicidal ideation, just in case. it’s v mild but pls be careful yall (i know, this fic was supposed to be fluffy 😅)

posted on ao3

------

Billy’s life had changed a lot in the past two years.

So much that some days he barely recognizes himself in the mirror. The scars, the state of his hair—which he hasn’t cut since last summer and generally just throws back for convenience’ sake—the stubble he doesn’t bother with most days. Small things, in the grander scheme of what’s different about his life, but it adds up.

And it’s Friday night, he’s curled up at home, and perfectly content to be there.

There’s a steaming mug of cider on the coffee table (a scratched-up old thing that Hop left him when he officially handed off ownership of his trailer to Billy), and wind rattling the windows, and Max is asleep in the next room. It’s...cozy.

El stopped by earlier that afternoon, Max in tow, demanding Billy let them stay because Mike was being a dick or a DnD campaign was going on too long and El’s character died a while back so she was bored, or...something. Possibly Mike was being a dick about her character being dead. Max kept chiming in with her own two cents worth but it really just made the whole thing harder to follow.

But it didn’t really matter why they stopped by, they’re always coming up with reasons to invade his living room and eat all his food and nag him about teaching them how to do fancy braids. And Max usually wanders off to nap in his room when El starts asking Billy to read to her.

Which is what he’s doing now.

Last month he read her Jane Eyre (her idea). A week ago they started The Hobbit.

It’s been slow going, considering how often El interrupts to ask questions, and every time there’s a song they have the same argument about him not actually singing, but they’re making progress.

He’s reading through the weird goblin song as monotone as possible just so he can laugh at El’s disgruntled scrunchy face, and putting up with her poking his thigh with her toes when he rolls his eyes at her, and honestly having the time of his fucking life, because, yeah, saying things have changed in the past two years is the understatement of the decade.

When he gets to the end of Over Hill and Under Hill and closes the book she gasps dramatically, sitting up and pulling the ugly orange throw blanket (gift from Mrs. Byers) she’d been snuggled up in tighter around her shoulders.

“Billy, no!”

He drops the book in his lap and raises his eyebrows at her. “It’s the end of the chapter.”

“No.”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

El frowns at him, her whole face going pinched. “But you can’t stop there.”

It’s moments like this that almost make Billy forget she can kill people with her brain. Moments when she just looks like a kid, all wrapped up in her favourite blanket and pouting.

And it’s like she knows that’s his goddamn kryptonite. Because those moments also remind him that she deserves this. More than anyone he knows, she deserves all the childish crap she wants, and more. It won’t ever replace the childhood that was taken from her, but it’s a start.

So, needless to say, Billy has a hard time saying no to her.

He drops his head back against the cushion behind him, staring at the ceiling for a moment—pretending to contemplate, while she glowers at him—and sighs loudly.

“One more chapter.”

She beams.

They’re only a few pages into Riddles in the Dark when a car pulls up, and Billy doesn’t even have time to put the book down before the front door bursts open.

“El! Will thought he—is that The Hobbit?” Dustin comes to an abrupt halt two paces into the room, blinking at the book in Billy’s hands. All his little friends nearly collide with his back, and there’s suddenly a gaggle of obnoxious teenagers huddled in Billy’s doorway.

“Who cares,” Lucas scoffs, pushing him out of the way so he, Wheeler, and Will, can shuffle the rest of the way inside. “Get out of the way!”

Billy is still trying to figure out what the fuck’s even happening when Steve goddamn Harrington walks in behind his pack of brats. Because of course he was the one who drove them here. Him being a fine upstanding citizen and all that. With nothing better to do, apparently. (Not that Billy has room to judge anymore.)

Suddenly the bickering kids are mostly background noise. Billy always did have a hard time concentrating on anything else when Steve’s in the room. Especially when he’s looking like that, warm brown eyes lit up with interest, and the corner of his mouth pulling upwards in a half-smile. His cheeks are pink from the chill outside, his hair a mess from the wind, and locking eyes with him makes Billy’s heart pound.

They’ve been on good terms these past few months and it’s a special kind of torture that Billy wouldn’t give up for the fucking world.

But he doesn’t get to enjoy the view for long because—

“—the Mind Flayer might be back!”

Billy stiffens. “What?” He glances at El. She’s sitting up straight now, her eyes dark, expression closed off.

Mike sighs irritably. “Weren’t you listening? Will thinks he might have sensed the Mind Flayer, so we needed to make sure El’s okay.” He crosses his arms, glaring at Billy. “Because the stupid thing wants her dead, remember?”

“Wheeler,” Steve hisses, and smacks the kid’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Billy grits his teeth, cold fingers trailing down his spine. “I remember.”

The room is silent for several agonizing seconds, the kids all exchanging glances. Until Billy’s bedroom door opens and Max shuffles out, rubbing her eyes.

“What’s everyone doing here?”

They’d all been hanging out at Steve’s when Will had a bad feeling. The same kind of prickling bone-deep chill he’d gotten two summers ago. Needless to say, ignoring it until people started dying didn’t seem like the way to go this time, hence the home invasion.

Which had been Steve’s idea, apparently. Or. His initial reaction had been to blurt out does this mean Billy’s possessed again, and it had spiraled from there. To Mike freaking out about El not being safe because she was here, to Lucas reminding him that Billy had only gotten the better of her when she didn’t have powers, to Dustin yelling about checking in with her either way because she might have The Facts.

And so they’d broken a couple traffic laws to get here.

Billy suspects Steve feels guilty about suggesting he might be possessed, because he got very awkward when it was brought up. And he stepped in several times when Wheeler and Sinclair’s interrogation got a little too intense (there were threats of hot pokers involved).

It should have felt condescending—Billy’s a grown-ass adult, he doesn’t need someone defending him from lanky teenagers—but he can’t help feeling a little warm when it’s Steve coming to his defense.

The discussion overall is a mess. El doesn’t have any answers, Billy hasn’t felt anything odd lately, and the lack of anything to go on beyond Will having a momentary freakout is putting everyone on edge.

Max, who squished herself onto the couch between Billy and El, cuts through the cyclical arguing after the third dramatic eye-roll from Mike. “Guys, can you cool it for a second. We’re getting nowhere.” Her protest is punctuated by a yawn, which makes El giggle.

“She’s right,” Steve sighs, mussing with his hair absentmindedly. “Billy and El are fine, everyone’s fine, we should all get some sleep.”

“Dude, are you sure you’re good to drive?” Dustin asks, squinting appraisingly at Steve. It’s a fair question, it’s late and Steve looks like he’s about to keel over, but Billy’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Who said anything about driving?” Max snorts, glancing at Billy.

Damnit Max.

“Is there even space for everyone here? This place is tiny.”

“Fuck you, Wheeler, not all of us can live in goddamn mansions.”

The kid opens his mouth to retort, bristling with indignation, but Will interjects, stuttering a little in his haste, “I, um, I’d feel a little safer if everyone, you know, stayed in one place? At least for tonight?”

And that pretty much settles it.

Once everyone mumbles their (in some cases reluctant) agreement, El crows “Sleepover!” and drags Max off to find spare blankets, leaving Billy sitting on the couch alone and wondering where the hell Steve is gonna sleep. For...no particular reason...other than…

Well.

It’s not like Mike was wrong, the trailer wasn’t built to house six teenagers and two twenty-somethings. Most of them are going to end up squished on the living room floor, and Max and El already called dibs on the couch, and...well, unless Steve wants to crash in the fucking kitchen there really isn’t anywhere else for him to go other than Billy’s room. He doesn’t even have a goddamn tub the guy could curl up in.

And just because he’s wanted Steve Harrington in his bed since minute one, doesn’t mean he wants it right now. Not like this.

Because like this he has to deal with Max’s side-eye, and El’s knowing look (the girl has been in his head, she literally knows everything about him), and Will’s weird wide-eyed interest, and worst of all, Steve not doing this because he wants to.

In fact, judging by the way he blanches when Max suggests it, Billy’s room is the last place he’d like to be. Which is not really something Billy ever really wanted hard proof of, thanks.

He’s dealt with enough in his life, he didn’t need to know exactly how repulsive Steve finds the idea of sleeping in the same room as him.

“You’re welcome to sleep in your goddamn car if my floor isn’t good enough for you, Harrington,” he bites out, probably harsher than was warranted.

Steve blinks at him, mouth falling open, eyebrows raised.

“Oh my god, it’s too cold to sleep outside, Billy,” Max says, rolling her eyes. “Stop being such a dick.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “Figure your shit out, I’m going to bed.”

The silence he leaves behind is tense and awkward.

He’s been laying in bed staring at the ceiling, moping and berating himself, for about ten minutes when the door creaks open.

“Hey, uh,” Steve’s voice is soft, uncertain, and Billy feels like even more of an asshole for snapping at him. “I’m just...gonna...crash on the floor. Um. Good night.”

This is punishment isn’t it. For being such a douche for so long. Now he gets to try and fall asleep knowing Steve fucking Harrington is laying nearby, sleepy and warm and out of reach. He listens to Steve shuffle around, getting situated, laying out blankets and trying to find a soft bit of carpet to lay on. Has to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. Like offering up his bed. Or poking fun at how much Steve sighs when he’s getting comfortable (Because it’s dumb, not cute. Definitely not cute.).

It’s unclear how long they lay there in the dark, Billy watching moonlight cast the outlines of skeletal trees across the wall, listening to Steve’s quiet breathing to remind himself he’s not alone. That the shadows are just shadows and there’s no reason to be tense and sweating and—

Billy’s pretty sure it’s been long enough that Steve should be asleep, considering how tired he looked, so he tosses his blanket off and swipes the pack of cigarettes off his bedside table, hoping to god the floor doesn’t creak when he pads across the room. There’s no noise coming from the other room, so either the kids are asleep too or a miracle has occurred and they’re all just being really quiet.

He slips out the side door, and takes a breath. The lake is too still, despite the wind. No self-respecting body of water doesn’t have waves. But it’s pretty enough, he supposes. Enough to make for a decent view while he smokes a cigarette.

Takes a couple tries to light up. His hands aren’t what they used to be, especially in the cold. Holding off a thirty-foot meat puppet bare-handed does that to a person, tears shit up that doesn’t heal right afterwards.

He’s about halfway through his cig when Steve joins him. Billy’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of footsteps, and he doesn’t relax at all when he realizes who it is.

“Hey.”

Out of the corner of his eye Billy watches Steve lean against the porch railing beside him. He takes another drag before he looks over properly, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Billy raises his eyebrows. Gestures with his cigarette and turns away again. “No shit.”

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he resolutely ignores it. Stares out at the water and flicks cigarette ash over the railing. The wind picks up again and cuts through his thin shirt. Should’ve grabbed a fucking sweater. Not because the cold bothers him at all, but...well, because it doesn’t anymore.

He shivers when a completely-unrelated-to-the-weather chill runs down his spine.

“Soo…” Steve fidgets, and trails off awkwardly, his nonchalance painfully fake.

The corner of Billy’s mouth twitches, and he raises his cigarette to his lips, a flimsy excuse to hide his smile.

“Did, uh. Did El choose the book, or…?”

He chokes on a mouthful of smoke. Doc Owens did tell him he shouldn’t have taken up smoking again. Though he was probably more concerned about Billy’s scarred lungs and than Steve Harrington-related hazards.

Coughing definitely does hurt a lot more than it used to though.

He flinches when Steve touches his shoulder, pats it, rubs a little—trying to help with the coughing, presumably—making Billy’s heart trip over itself.

Once he’s no longer wheezing he wipes his eyes, and waves off Steve’s apologies, hoping the embarrassed flush on his cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light.

Steve’s hand stays where it is.

For several quiet moments Billy waits for him to withdraw but he doesn’t, and Billy finally meets his eyes. Which was probably a mistake. His heart skips again. He’s still not used to Steve looking at him like that. Soft and wide-eyed and concerned and…

God, he’s so fucking beautiful. Billy used to dream about getting this close without needing pretense, without having to pretend, getting to bask in the warmth coming off him and feel his breath on his skin and see something other than indifference—or worse, the hatred that came later—looking back at him. What he has now is...not quite what he wants. It lights him up but leaves him wanting.

Another gust of wind makes a mess of Steve’s hair, locks falling into his eyes and sticking up in all directions, and Billy itches. Clenches his fist to stop himself from fixing it.

“Her dweeby little friends kept talking about it, and she couldn’t get through it herself. So...” Billy trails off, scratching his cheek and glancing away. “I may have had a copy laying around.”

Steve’s hand finally leaves its perch on his shoulder—both a disappointment and a relief—to brush the stray locks of hair out of his face. He grins at Billy, whole face lit up and stupidly pretty even as his fingers get stuck in tangles. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “My mom used to read it to me.”

It’s easier to talk about her now. Mostly with El, who’s still the only person who knows the full story, but, well, he’s pretty sure at least Max and Steve have guessed the bits they weren’t told. Or, hell, maybe El told everyone everything during those months he was out of commission and everyone thought he was dead, and no one’s brought it up to his face because it would be awkward as hell.

In any case, Steve’s expression softens.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “So, you and her were pretty close, huh?”

If asked Billy would have blamed the sudden sting of tears in his eyes on the wind. “I guess.” A pause. “Not enough for her to take me when she left,” he mumbles, chewing his thumbnail and frowning out at the lake.

His cigarette hangs between two fingers in his other hand.

“Billy…”

“Don’t. I’ve heard every condolence in the book, okay. It’s...it’s fine.”

For several long moments the only sounds are the dry rustle of leaves in the wind and Billy’s nail-biting.

Then Steve slips his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugs gently. Too surprised to resist, Billy lets him. Lets his hand be pulled away from his face, thumb pressed to his pulsepoint, lets him hold on for a beat longer than necessary before letting go. And Billy stares at him the whole time, lips parted, shoulders tense, waiting to see what Steve will do next.

What he does next is smile a little sad, and tilt his head. “It’s a bad habit, you know. Biting your nails.”

“I don’t have any other kind of habit.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, “I don’t think that’s true.”

Which is a weird thing to say, and a weird thing to get emotional over, and yet Billy kind of feels like he’s been punched in the chest.

He rubs at the knotted scar tissue that spiderwebs across his whole torso, and can’t help but wonder—not for the first time—if Steve’s perception of him might be a little blinded by the one good thing he’s ever done. He’s tried to be better since then, atone a little, but Steve’s confidence in him still feels unearned.

And all the work he’s put into getting his shit together might all be for nothing anyways, if some fucking slime monster decides to crawl down his throat again. If Will’s right and that thing is back...for all he knows the thing has it out for him too, after the shit he pulled at Starcourt. He thought he’d end up dead, he wasn’t exactly worried about making himself a target in the long run.

But now...

Billy exhales slowly through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment before he grits out, “I can’t do it again.” Steve blinks at him, nonplussed. “This,” he taps his scars, “The fucking. Mind Flayer bullshit. I can’t.”

“You…” Steve folds his arms across his stomach, hands clutching his elbows. It’s a nervous tic that makes Billy ache. Always makes his heart clench, but tonight that gets lost in the black hole of anxiety already twisting up his insides “You won’t have to, I—we’ll protect you. If we stick together—”

“It’s not a guarantee.”

“No, but—”

“We don’t know anything about this alien shit, for all we know I was never really free of it, and—I just—promise you won’t let it use me again,” Billy’s voice breaks, and he clenches his jaw to try and hold it all back, the taste of bile in the back of his throat, the crushing weight of existential panic pressing in.

Steve’s eyes widen, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean. Crash another car into me. Let your ex shoot me in the fucking head. I don’t care how, I need you to stop me.” He needs to understand, Billy’s eyes bore into him, willing him to understand.

But he shakes his head, face twisted up with horror, “I don’t think I can do that.”

Billy takes a step towards him, desperation bleeding into his voice, “Steve.” He blinks back tears. “Please.”

“Don’t—” Steve looks away, curling in on himself, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what, ask you to perform a public fucking service?” Billy spits, eyes stinging, face burning. He regrets the words once they’re spoken, but there’s no taking them back now. He’s talked with Owens about this sort of shit and he thought he was past it.

Apparently not.

He deflates. Like a slap in the face, it stops him dead, turns his agonizing back inward where it fucking belongs. Wiping his eyes, he sighs.

It’s too late to stop the puppy-dog eyes Steve’s giving him now though. The unreserved sadness in the way he’s looking at Billy is so overwhelming it’s almost palpable. “Is that really how you feel?”

Is it? He’s not sure anymore. It was for a long time. Long enough that he couldn’t remember feeling any other kind of way until El reminded him. But now…

He shrugs. “It’s...complicated. I—ah, shit!” His hand jerks, and the cigarette he’d been holding falls to the ground. That never used to hurt so fucking much. “Damn thing burnt me.”

He sucks on the stinging knuckle, waiting for the pain to subside, tasting salt and ash, and looks back up at Steve.

They lock eyes.

Steve’s expression has closed off, his gaze still heavy, but with something else, sliding down Billy’s face with an intensity Billy’s not quite sure what to make of. He’s struck dumb by the attention (not something he usually has a problem handling), lips still wrapped around his finger but his mouth has gone slack.

It feels like a static shock, one crackling jolt of a moment, something sharp lancing through him, and then it’s over. Steve’s blinking, glancing away. Billy’s hand falls to his side. It would be like it never happened except he still feels charged, pent up, heart full to bursting and stomach in knots.

Billy sighs, and rubs his eyes. “Let’s just...go back to bed.”

Wording, Billy. Wording. His cheeks warm a little, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he turns and heads back inside.

He practically throws himself into his bed, curling up on his side and pulling the blankets around him, back turned to Steve. Sleep seems like a pipe dream at this point, but doing anything other than pretending to get some rest would involve talking to and/or looking at Steve, so. Not an option.

But after he listens to Steve settle back into his little pile of blankets, the minutes crawl by, and Billy gets twitchy. Wants so badly to move, toss and turn and fidget, and say something, but doesn’t know where to start and doesn’t want to draw Steve’s attention, and—

God, this is so fucking stupid.

Billy rolls over. “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

The room is silent for a beat. He shuffles around a little and the sheets rustle loudly in the quiet.

“Would you get up here,” he says suddenly, all at once, demanding, scarcely believing what the fuck is coming out of his mouth.

“...What?” Steve sounds a little breathless and it makes Billy’s stomach clench.

“Just...there’s enough room for both of us, alright.” Jesus christ.

The lump of Steve and blankets on the floor doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, for what seems like an eternity, and Billy’s about to brush it off, turn it into a joke, take it back, something, when—

“Okay.”

Oh.

What?

Oh god, he’s getting up. This is happening. Billy stares at his silhouette, the tense line of his shoulders, his awkward gait, and wonders why he’s agreeing to this if he’s so goddamn uncomfortable.

Guess the floor is officially less comfortable than being in bed with Billy. Joy.

But then he’s sliding under the covers and Billy forgets to be bitter because his brain is mostly static at this point. White noise and his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the deafening creak of boxspring groaning under unexpected weight.

And Steve’s doing that thing again, sighing, little hums as he wiggles around getting himself situated, and Billy is dying. He thought he was being punished before, but now he’s sure, because this is ridiculous. No grown man should be that adorable.

By the time he’s gotten himself comfy Billy is about ready to combust.

It doesn’t help that he’s decided to lay down extremely close and facing Billy. It’s so intimate it hurts.

“Do you think you’ll actually sleep?”

Billy shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.” He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. Like it’s a choice and not the sad fact that he’s too fucking anxious to relax.

Seems he’s not the only one though, Steve keeps fidgeting, his face doing something weird Billy can’t quite see in the gloom. But he doesn’t have to see to recognize Steve’s tics.

“Spit it out,” Billy sighs.

“What did you mean. When you said it’s complicated?” Steve asks softly.

Ah.

“You really wanna get into this?” He sure doesn’t, but Steve nods and Billy’s fucking weak when it comes to giving Steve what he wants. “I meant that...I...used to feel like that. All the time. It was fucking relentless.” He thinks about rolling onto his back so he won’t have to look at Steve for this, but finds himself stuck, drawn in by the faint starlight reflected in Steve’s eyes. “But nowadays I’ve got...shit to hang on for, I guess. Doesn’t make it all go away, but it makes it easier.”

“Oh.” Steve wriggles a little closer, his hand landing in the space between their pillows. Right next to Billy’s hand. Close enough that he can feel him there, but not quite touching.

He doesn’t say anything else, which Billy’s grateful for. He’s got Doc Owens for the big speeches about how life is worth living, and it’s grating enough getting them from someone who’s literal job is to say that kind of shit.

It helps. It does. But he can only handle so much.

Speaking of which.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says quietly. He’s keeping his hand too still for it to come across as casual, trembling with the effort. If he moved his pinky just a little they’d be touching, and he’s painfully aware of this fact.

“What for?”

“Earlier, when I...I was asking for a lot.”

“Oh.” Steve shifts, the blankets rustling as he shuffles around, but as much as he fidgets, his hand stays where it is. “Billy...I don’t want you to have to go through that again, but…”

Billy, on an impulse—with a feeling somewhat akin to stepping off a ledge without a parachute—hooks his pinky over Steve’s. In the dark he hears a soft intake of breath, can just barely make out the way Steve’s mouth falls open, moonlight casting shadows when his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“I know. It wasn’t fair to—”

“No, no,” Steve flips his palm upward and laces their fingers together, squeezing Billy’s hand. “It’s not that. You have every right to be scared, and...look, this whole thing is batshit crazy, none of us know how to deal with it.”

Billy runs his thumb along the length of Steve’s index finger, marvelling at the contact, and the way his pulse flutters when the gesture is returned. It takes him a second to find his voice, “True, but you’ve never asked me to mercy kill you.”

Steve exhales, the ghost of a laugh, and it warms the back of Billy’s hand. He shivers, his whole arm tingling. “Billy, I haven’t gone through half the shit you have.” A pause. “I want to help. Anything you need, just...not that.”

Anything. It catches in Billy’s throat, stops his heart for just a second, reminds him that they’re inches apart, in bed together. For the second time tonight he feels like he’s been punched in the sternum, and he goes rigid, relaxing only minutely when Steve squeezes his hand again.

“Careful, pretty boy. Saying shit like that might give a guy ideas,” he murmurs, gaze searching, wandering Steve’s face, the shadows cast by the soft fall of hair across his forehead.

“Oh yeah?” Steve pulls their clasped hands to his chest. His heart is racing, but his voice is steady, “Well, have enough ideas with no follow-through and a guy might think you’re all talk.”

Billy’s breath catches. The world stops. “You...you don’t want me to follow through.”

The reality of the situation hits him like a train. Flirting is one thing, he’s always had a hard time keeping his mouth shut around Steve, but this is something he’d only ever regretted letting himself imagine because he knew he’d never have it. And now that it’s within reach...

“See, the thing is…” Steve slides a little closer. His knee brushes Billy’s thigh. “I really, really do.”

“I—” his voice breaks, mouth dry, throat closing up as he tries to swallow past the lump making it hard to breathe.

“Billy,” Steve whispers, a hot puff of air against Billy’s lips. “Please.”

Fuck.

He surges forward—hard enough that their teeth click together—and his mouth muffles Steve’s gasp. The hand not cradled against Steve’s chest comes up to touch his cheek, fingertips caressing his jaw, coaxing him closer, sliding back to thread into his hair.

Steve’s lips are plush and warm against his, curved into a smile that leaves Billy tingling, dizzy and drunk on sensations. The way his mouth tastes, the softness of his skin under Billy’s scarred palm, the way his heart twists when Steve reaches out to touch his chest.

He pulls back, and rests his forehead against Steve’s. His eyes stay shut and he just breathes. Soaks up the moment.

“God,” Steve sighs, nuzzling their noses together. “Always knew you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah?” Billy asks quietly, fiddling with the stray locks of hair behind Steve’s ear. He’s feeling...raw. Vulnerable. It’s a fragile state of being, one wrong word away from breaking. Or a few right words away from fucking bliss, but that never seems to be how it goes for him.

“Yeah, even when we didn’t like each other I wondered. Annoyed the hell outta me.”

“Steve…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I always liked you.” If his heart wasn’t already racing, it sure would be now. He braces himself for the worst.

But it doesn’t come. There’s a pause. Steve’s fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “Oh.” He presses a chaste kiss to Billy’s lips, lingering, before chuckling lightly. “That explains a lot actually.”

Billy’s cheeks burn. Yeah, he supposes it would. “You’re not...freaked out?” he ventures, hesitant.

“Mm, nope.” He reaches up, brushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face. “Definitely okay with this.”

I love you.

The thought doesn’t shock him but the desire to say it out loud does. The way it lodges itself in his throat and sticks. He hasn’t said it to anyone—hasn’t wanted to say it to anyone—since his mother left. The precedent is intimidating, but…

Steve smells like honey and clean air, laying in bed with Billy, warm and pliant next to him tracing patterns in Billy’s scars, his gaze is fond, his smile is soft, and...and Billy’s in love.

He swallows. Pushes it down for now.

He kisses Steve again. Slower. A gentle press of mouths, and another. Takes his time deepening it, teasing with his tongue. He waits for Steve to pull away, to decide that this thing is one thing too far, but it never happens. Steve lets him escalate, and gives as good as he gets.

They’re both breathless and flushed and Billy’s riding high on the bubbling warmth in his chest, lightheaded from it. He slides his leg over Steve’s, straddling his thigh, pressing down, seeking friction.

He shifts, rocking forward a little, and Steve moans, low and deep right in Billy’s ear.

They both freeze. Steve’s breath coming in ragged little bursts against the side of Billy’s face.

“Pretty boy, as much as I’d love to hear more of that, no one else in the house does.”

“Jesus christ.”

“No need to bring him into it.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs and buries his face in Billy’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute.”

“Aw, I get you all riled up, baby?”

Steve slides a hand down, down, and palms Billy’s cock, drawing a short gasp from him. “Yes.”

They stay entangled the rest of the night, dozing in and out of consciousness, Steve pressing the occasional sleepy kiss to Billy’s collarbone. And...Billy’s not sure what will happen after tonight, but he knows it’ll be easier to deal with if he gets to keep this. Whatever this is. He doesn’t have the heart to ask, not yet, but for the first time in a while, he has hope.

#steve harrington #harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic #a raven's writing desk

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lethbians · 5 years

Note

wife can u do a fic or smth with reddie and napping please

hands down, no questions about it, the hammock was the best feature of the entire bunker.

bev liked bean bag chairs ben had added. she and ben could sit in the corner listening to his tapes through shared headphones for hours, cycling through new kids on the block and madonna and prince until the batteries wore out.

ben also liked the bean bag chairs.

the bookcase was stan’s favorite, mostly because it gave him a great swell of pride whenever one of the losers borrowed a book he’d stocked it with. it was still pretty empty, and three of the ten books were specialty handbooks for bird spotting, but it was there.

eddie contributed a polaroid camera he’d gotten for christmas because he had the artistic eye of seaweed and every photo he took came out blurry and half-developed, for whatever reason. bev had taken to snapping pictures of the losers in various unexplainable situations, and now there was a nice string of pictures hanging near the entryway, so eddie felt good about it.

mike and bill had brought in a game table and spent most of their time mutually sucking at scrabble (though mike usually won — stan liked to stand behind him pretending to read his book but subtly hint at different combinations mike could make, leaving bill to lean back in his chair and huff out a “wh-why do i even bother?”)

but fuck all of that: the hammock reigned supreme. when it had been installed, it was clear every one of the losers had been excited to take a turn — to the point they’d needed to come up with a schedule for usage or there was going to be hands thrown. at some point, though, the rest of them had taken note that fighting richie for time on the hammock just wasn’t worth it.

except eddie.

it was always:

“how come richie’s always the first one on the hammock?”

“because i’m the first one down here.”

“yeah, ‘cause you pushed me!”

richie adjusted his glasses on his nose. “your mom likes it when i’m pushy with her.”

or:

“richie, you can’t hog the hammock the whole time.”

“i can’t hear you, i’m sleeping.”

“you’re literally talking to me right now, fuckface.”

“i’m probably sleep-talking, and you know they say you’re not supposed to disrupt sleep-talkers.”

“that’s sleep-walkers, richie,” mike chimed in, and bill groaned “r-really? zoology on a tr-riple letter square?”

“STOP FAKE SNORING, DICKHEAD, I KNOW YOU’RE AWAKE.”

or:

“it’s my turn on the hammock, richie.”

“richie tozier isn’t here right now,” richie said, not looking up from his comic. “if you’d like to leave your name and number at the tone, he’ll get back to you after he’s done fucking your mother.”

eddie never dropped it, though. at some point he’d decided that there was no forcing richie out, so he’d just have to get in. so he did, mumbling expletives and shoving at richie’s too-long limbs the whole time he adjusted to sharing the swing of the hammock.

it was, like, the biggest win of richie’s life.

for the most part, they sat at opposite ends, limbs tangling together as they read the latest editions of spiderman or she-hulk. eddie spent a lot of time playfully kicking richie or knocking his glasses off with his toes, and richie spent a lot of time letting him. when they hit high-school, though, and richie shot up like a knobby-kneed corn stalk, sharing the hammock became less and less feasible. at least, the way they’d been doing it before.

“c’mon richie, get the fuck up,” eddie whined. “i wanna’ take a nap.”

he and stan had spent the whole afternoon studying for an algebra test tomorrow while richie played his game-boy ‘for moral support’. stan already left, though, mumbling something about not being able to handle ‘this repressed shit’ anymore, whatever that meant, and eddie was in that post-study cranky mood.

“hop on in, chap,” richie offered, patting his chest like it was some sort of enticing pillow.

“oh, fuck you, i just wanna’—“

“i’m serious,” richie argues, letting his legs splay over the sides of the fabric and making an eddie sized space. “or you can go home. i’m sure sonia would love to have her eddie-bear cuddle up for a nap.” the look in eddie’s eyes was downright feral and richie was worried he’d legitimately pissed him off but then eddie’s shoulders just kind of dropped and a yawn overpowered any fight left in him.

“fine.” so he’d crawled in and collapsed on richie’s body (after elbowing him sharply in the stomach and making a pleased humming sound at richie’s pained oof).

and. it’s not like they’d never been curled up like this, but they were usually accompanied by the other losers, and it was never quite this close. richie could feel eddie’s heartbeat getting slower and slower against his ribs, could feel eddie’s soft breaths on the bit of exposed skin above richie’s shirt collar.

“shut up, richie.”

“i’m not — i didn’t say anything!”

eddie just huffs in response, and after a few moments, everything is quiet. so richie picks up his comic, wishes his pulse into some semblance of a steady beat, and pretends he’s not focusing on every rise and fall of eddie’s shoulders.

after that, it’s almost tradition: they argue, richie makes room, and eddie crawls in like he was made to fit between richies legs. sometimes richie stays awake and reads, sometimes he falls asleep too, counting the freckles on the bridge of eddie’s nose. sometimes richie wakes up before eddie and finds their hands interlocked, and sometimes eddie wakes up before richie and slips his fingers between richie’s before falling back asleep.

they never, ever nap together in front of the other losers.

which is why, when the roof-top door swings open as richie’s just about to take off his glasses and join eddie in dreamland, his heart stops.

it’s bev, and ben, and richie lets out a little sigh of relief because bill enters rooms with all the finesse of an elephant on roller skates and eddie would’ve woken up immediately.

as it is, eddie gives a little shift when bev laughs quietly at whatever ben had said, so by the time she and ben turn around, richie’s shaking his head as violently as he can without disturbing the sleeping boy atop him.

bev’s hand flies up to contain her gleeful laugh, and ben just stands there looking about as shocked as he had when he’d discovered bill and mike were fooling around; which is to say, not that shocked. ben just puts his hands up and smiles before crawling back up the ladder, and bev looks like she’s about to follow, but something on the bookshelf catches her eye. richie knows what it is before she’s even grabbed it, and his cheeks flush bright red when she pulls the polaroid from the shelf. there’s no feasible way to get out of this without waking up eddie, defeating the entire purpose, so richie just lays back and accepts his fate with a sigh and a middle finger to the lens.

—

later, after eddie’s forced him to buy them both ice cream before he split off to go home, richie tacks up the stolen polaroid beside his bed.

there’d be plenty of opportunities for bev to snap another.

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #some very side hanbrough #the losers #ANYTHING FOR U MY WIFE!!!!!#my writing #wlwmayfield #mp

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britishchick09 · 3 years

Text

danger force return of the kid livewatch

HENRY IS BACK AND IT’S TIME FOR ME TO FINALLY GET AROUND TO WATCHING IT! :D

the version i’m watching on dailymotion is slightly chipmunked and it’s adorable ^_^

awww sweetest hug ever! ♥

chapa: “don’t make me get the crowbar!” omg :o

miles: “you hate to see it” and you love to see the meme ;)

henry’s dad is graduating from an online school how 2020

CAPTAIN MAN LOVES THE HUGS!!! :D

mika: “we once caught a guy that was stealing books... FROM THE LIBRARY!” omg shocking! :o

henry just said ‘noice’ wtf mr. hart

henry spent ‘his whole childhood’ defeating people but wasn’t he like a tween when he became kid danger?

ray: “henry’s MINE now” awww :)

idk if henry can still become kid danger (i haven’t seen the henry danger finale) but i really hope he does

henry: “everyone thinks kid danger is-“ chapa: “hot?” miles: “dead?” lol

ray wants henry to pick his nail color awww :)

henry wants them to ‘handle it themselves’ does that mean he can’t transform? :o

henry just deleted ‘where are you?’ messages from charlotte HENRY DID YOU SERIOUSLY ABANDON YOUR FRIENDS FOR RAY YOU’RE NOT JOHN WITH YOKO

the audience just gave a quiet ‘aww’ when henry deleted the messages same :/

ray: “you wanna see my axe storing room?” your WHAT room

henry: “do i even have to axe?” eyyyyyyy ;)

ray and henry are the best of friends! :D

they’re playing a just dance ripoff how sweet :)

henry: “this has been so much fun!” ray: “I LOVE YOU TOO!” henry: “what?” ray: “I SAID GET READY FOR ROUND TWO!”

the game is calling for a tango STOP THE SHIPPING

and the game is called PRANCE PRANCE REVOLUTION lol :D

ray wants the kids to leave to spend more time with henry ♥

DAAAANG HENRY JUST LIFTED RAY YOOO!!!!!

ray: “quit your bellyaching!” henry: “yeah, this is what you get paid for!” the kids: “YOU GOT PAID???” lol :D

ray wants to stay up there ‘as long as he can’ wowza what a shippy shippy

the intro pops up nearly 6 minutes into the ep what a long and exciting cold open! :D

chapa to mika: “we got your heart to start beating again...” wtf happened :o

bose’s mouth was full did he have a towel in his mouth lol

mikes screaming “I HATE YOU!!” is better than anakin lol

CHAPA WANTS TO DESTROY HENRY WTF

mika isn’t up for this bs YOU GO MIKA!!!!!

mika: “AND CHAPA SHOULD BE THE ONE THAT KILLS HIM!!” FRICK YEAH!!!

...but also FRICK NO DON’T KILL CAPTAIN MAN PLZ

omg henry and ray started a totally sick rock band yo!

SCHWOZ BE LIKE ‘AWWW YEAHHHH!!!!” :D

henry: “don’t need to practice when you’re already perfect, dude!” hannah montana wants to know your location

why is ray obsessed with henry’s mom creepy

henry: “gotta save my messages to the cloud!” F U T U R E!!!!”

char’s messages are like ‘you can’t run from this’ HENRY WHAT’S GOIN’ ON HMMMM?????

ray: “...that didn’t sound like your mom.”

henry asked if he was ‘totally untrackable in the man’s nest’ WHAT DID YOU DO HENRY

ray: “finding you in here would be like trying to find a gray hair on my head!” henry: “there’s one right there.” ray: “whaaat?”

MIKA BE P-I-DOUBLE S-ED YO

henry’s been there for 3-4 days HENRYYYY!!!!

chapa: “we also think we should be able to vaporize someone FOR NO REASON AT ALL!!!!” daang chapa p-i-double wuble s-ed too!

ray: “time is a tall glass of water” henry: “please don’t punch my glass-” ray: *PUNCHES GLASS LIKE A BOSS*

ray: “next crime that calls is goin’ home in a body bag” sweet serenity celestia captain man calm down

henry: “who knows when the next call will come in?” call: *comes in* lol

OMG DID THE KIDS SET UP THE EMERGENCY CALL???? :o

HENRY TRANSFORMED YAAAS!!! and i guess the dark outfit he wore in the insta teaser pic is his new hero form?? :o

henry: “up the tube!” captain man: “...we go down the tube.” lol :D

and awayyyyy they go!

robber: “part of the reason i rob people is for the connection i feel and i feel like you’re (the cashier) not here with me right now!” awww ♥

the cashier walked past captain man’s book first of all awesome call back and secondly why is a book being sold at a convenience store

captain man: “let’s slow fight this crime”

robber: “is this your sidekick?” ray: “naw, we’re just vibing!” henry: “you don’t even know what that means” ray: “it’s means, like, we’re together but not really” johnlock wants to know your location

henry really wants to get back to the man’s nest what’s goin’ on here????

a drone just said ‘henry hart located sending bounty hunter’ first of all wtf and secondly BOBA FETT CROSSOVER WHAT

even captain man’s like ‘wtf dude?’

mika: “i finally got mom and dad to fall asleep! you know what that means...” others: “SCREEN TIME!!! :D” kids these days...

chapa; “i wish i had a phone!” the way she said it is a total ‘god i wish that were me’ meme

the ad on is for ‘imdb tv’ THEY HAVE A STREAMING SERVICE??????

mika has a big phone or a tiny tablet

mika to a caller: “WHAT DO YOU WANT????” miles: “YOU’RE INTERRUPTIN’ SCREEN TIME!!!” sweet serenity you two CALM THE FRICK DOWN

captain man: “the kid and i are in a bit of a jimmy jam...” jimmy john’s wants your location

henry: “you want to fly the mancopter? get a bunch of puppies?” you’d think the kids would want to fly the flipping mancopter but they want puppies instead. kids these days! :D

captain man: “what’s gotten your brisket in a basket?” lol

henry: “dystopia’s really scary-“ well duh you live in a town called DYSTOPIA what did you expect

henry messed with a guy WHO EATS PEOPLE’S SOULS WTF

captain man reaction: “...so you didn’t come to swellview to see me?” i think you should be focused on the, i don’t know... EATING PEOPLE’S SOULS PART RAY

the lights just went out OH MAN

OH CRAP THE BLACKOUT IS HERE WITH A GUN

henry: “we’re gonna die, dude!” captain man: “hold on gotta try and think of an opening quip-“ this is like yakko saying ‘we need a perfect opening’ line in the animaniacs reboot lol :D

also THIS DUDE IS LITERALLY GONNA KILL YOU RAY YOU SHOULD BE SCARED FOR YOUR LIFE

captain man: “knock knock-“ the blackout guy: *shoots captain man into a wall* captain man: “typically you’d say ‘who’s there?’“ lol

YO THE GUY JUST GOT TRAPPED IN A SPIDER WEB

shoutout: “how did you miss the floor awol?” awol: “at least we’re here! we could’ve been in another country!” oh miles! :D

chapa: “why are the lights out?” henry: “it’s blackout! he’s a bounty hunter from dystopia-“ chapa: “aaalllllready stopped listening.” why does nobody care about a soul-sucking bounty hunter tho??

captain man has a wall on his back like peter being stuck to the couch in that one family guy ep lol

the lights go on and everyone cheers! :D

captain man: “i said i wasn’t done with my quip! knock knock-“ *gets thrown to the ground* he’s never gonna get to that quip huh

henry: “looks like captain man is taking care of him.” no i think HE’S BEING ATTACKED HENRY

henry: “tell schwoz he can keep my dirty laundry-” why didn’t he pick it up before he moved tho

awol: “captain man says you’re the best superhero he’s ever seen!” henry: “that doesn’t sound like him.” brainstorm: “he also says you have a surprisingly good singing voice.” henry: “i guess i’m alriiight...;)” lol

volt: “captain man says that we’re garbage and we’ll never measure up to you” geez ray be a bit nicer to them (especially chapa) not everyone’s your bf henry

awol: “let’s take this guy down together! ... that sounded really cheesy” lol i love how they all agree except for shoutout :D

the blackout guy wants to know why captain man’s not dying DOES RAY NOT HAVE A SOUL????

YO VOLT JUST HIT BLACKOUT’S FACE WITH LIGHTNING that’s gotta hurt!

blackout falling down because of a scream is the best :D

yay they did it!!! :D

AND BRAINSTORM HIGH-FIVED HENRY YAS! :D

captain man: “what do you get when you cross a duck with a shutzu?” nice dodging the nickelodeon censors ray ;)

barrow raffle ad: “you could win a million dollars! if you ask us, that’s a win-win” a win-win is letting me finish this ep

captain man kicked blackout and he didn’t respond IS HE DEAD??? :o

schwoz left an alive present in henry’s jeans WTF SCHWOZ

henry: “tough group of kids you got there.” ray: “yep, it always surprises me how much grit and determination each one of them has- oh my god, they’re baby-talking the puppies” lol what a perfectly delivered line :D

henry: “buh-bye dangers!” awww dangers!!! :’)

the higher-pitch of the vid makes mika’s puppy voice SO ADORBS! ♥

♥♥♥♥♥♥

*phone alarm* henry: “that’s my guber!” i know it’s an uber pun but henry’s getting a goofy goober ride awwww yeah! B)

ray doesn’t want to let go awww :)

yo schwoz put a turtle in henry’s pocket lol :D

ooh there’s a post credit scene! :D

and it’s bloopers how sweet :)

that was a great ep as always (probably my fave ep along with the quarantine special)! him and captain man have awesome chemistry and henry with the kids is great too ♥ see ya soon henry! (and danger force)

#livewatch #it's nice to return to this show #and see henry's return of course ;)

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skyfrost-nail-kincare · 4 years

Note

it is i,, mod berry,, coming for some of those sweet headcanons! you probably know enough abt my stan canon,, but im sad yearning n missing the boyfs!! I got some new mems a while ago so I'm unloading on you lmao,, I was nonverbal? weird one and the whole losers club used to spend a lot of time in an arcade in town if you want to use that?? and a wild amount of sleepovers because nobody wanted to stay at home, hell someone bought a tent n wed disappear for days into the woods. thanks sayori!!

PLEASE PRETEND I PUT LMAO IN CAPS MY LAPTOPS BROKE SO I CAN ONLY TYPE IN CAPS OR LOWERCASE AT ONCE SORRY IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFY

HAGHAHSDG BERRY DW IT’S MOSTLY MALICIOUS USE AND I DIDN’T NOTICE TBH BC UR LIKE. SUPER CHILL I WOULDN’T THINK UR BEING MALICIOUS LIKE EVER HAHDSGH

but yeah hell yeah--i’m gonna reference the last time i made hcs for u so i don’t do the same thing over again LMAO

god u were inbox stan back then i rmr that so wEll--but OK just looked em over. it’z time 2 write. check below the cut, berry!!

- mod sayori [???]

SO i’m gonna set this as like . u bill and mike have been together for like a year now, ig? let’s go with anniversary prompt bc who doesn’t love tht!!

and u were just quietly boppin along doing ur thing, on ur way 2 the arcade bc y’all three were gonna hang out there all day and then go camp out overnight somewhere in da woodz

(the other losers knew y’all were doin somethin special so they were doing their own thing elsewheRe, don’t @ me but richie totally made a fuss abt it even tho he secretly thought u three were cute together)

and like. u thought they’d already b there. BUT!!!!!

bill comes up behind u and puts his arm around u, apologizing when u get a lil scared (and prob make jus the faintest squeak,,)

but mike is up ahead, waiting outside the arcade’s entrance

and u get like. bill leading u up to mike, where y’all exchange lil smooches, and then u go inside

and y’all put ur quarters together to start workin towards what gamez u wanna play

BUT SUDDENLY BILL AND MIKE JSUT SHOVE THEIR QUARTERS INTO UR HANDS

they r like. spilling out of ur hands and u feel RICH there is this grin on ur face

and they r like “you pick the games!”

so u pick ur favorites and the three of u spend ALL of the quarters over the course of the day, literally until the arcade closed.

(bill and mike distracted the owners of the place so u could spend the last quarter bc they thought it’d be cute when u got the high score)

honestly? they pampered u

and like. i’m gonna say it. when u all went out into the woods to camp out for the night, Y’ALL CUDDLED AGAIN

mike brought a tent but y’all didn’t need it

BC Y’ALL WERE STARGAZING

AGAIN

and believe me when i say it was completely different than that night exactly a year before

bc y’all were so much more comfortable in ur own skin

and around each other

u were sandwiched between them on either side of u

bill’s face rested in the crook of ur neck bc he lowkey was layin on u a lil bit

and mike was just calmly resting snuggled up to ur side

bill was lowkey clingy tbh

but that’s ok bc u and mike found it super cute

and u could tell that bill fell asleep first, bc he was holding ur hand too, and when his fell limp u had to let go bc if u didn’t u wouldn’t ever fall asleep bc u would be focusing on holding his hand

not that u would mind that

u just wanted to sleep

mike fell asleep next, and u could tell bc he snored a little bit

(don’t @ me he totally snores, even if it’s just quietly or only sometimes--he snores)

and once again, u were left awake to admire ur sleeping boyfs.

it was ur favorite place to be.

(and y’all probably camped out for like a whole week tbh, u just couldn’t bring urselves to go home and like be apart from each other so close 2 ur 1-year)

I ALMOST CRIED WRITING THESE OK UR CANON REALLY RESONATES W ME LIKE ??? NOT IN A “I SHARE IT WITH U” SORTA WAY BUT MORE LIKE IN A “HOLY SHIT THIS IS AMAZING I WANT 2 WRITE FOR IT ALL THE TIME” SORTA WAY

i’ve actually been thinking of opneing up drabbles as a request for sources i’m rly familiar with??? if ur interested i could Try to turn this into one as an example??? i’m not,,, the best writer,,,, but yk!! practice makes progress LMAO

ANYWAY i rly hope u like these,,, they were a lot of fun to make and y’all too cuTe--ty for requesting!!!

#stanley uris kin #mike hanlon kin #bill denbrough kin #stan x mike x bill #it kin #headcanons #fictionkin headcanons #fictkin headcanons #fictionkin #fictkin #ask to tag #/SRSLY STOP BEING SO CUTE WTF

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irwinkitten · 5 years

Text

c.h | look what you taught me

requested: surprisingly, yes. you guys really wanted this pairing: calum hood x reader notes: so thank u, next (it’s linked in the source!) had such an overwhelming response like honestly i never expected it and i love you all for it. originally i was going to leave it there, let you guys come up with your own happy ending. however, after the week i’ve had, it got me thinking and i got inspiration and tadaaaaaa! props to @boytoynamedcalum who was the original muse for thank u, next warnings: none word count: 3k

---

When Calum took the leap of faith, late on that November night, making the promise to Y/N and the stars that he’d be the man she believed he could be, he was scared.

She’d somehow wormed her way into his heart and suddenly the subtle shift wasn’t so subtle anymore.

He’d always been the observant one, watching others and keeping himself at a distance. Staying at a distance meant he wouldn’t get hurt. But later that night, when they’d come in from lying under the stars, their bodies cold as they tried so desperately hard to warm up together, he asked her.

“When did you realise you loved me?” He almost hoped that she would say from day one, that she would prove him right and that he was safer to protect his heart.

“The night you came over, on your week off. You’d just finished tour but you still came for pizza and wine as well as bad movies. You’d given me the softest grin when I’d said goodnight and I realised that you’ve only ever given me those smiles. I know your smiles, Hood. You have one for the fans, and one when you’re on stage. They often collide, it’s your happiest, doing what you love. There’s the smile you have just for Duke and your brothers, one that literally lights up your entire face.”

He felt speechless. He was observant, but clearly she was as well.

“The smile you have for your family, it’s different to the one you have for Duke and your brothers though, your entire mood changes and you’re positively beaming. It’s like you can’t be unhappy around them.”

Swallowing the building lump, he let out a shaky breath a he pulled her closer. They’d climbed into her bed the second they were warm enough, but she was still pressed against him, claiming that his body warmth was much better.

“And what about my smile for you, then?” Her lips curved into their own smile at his question, almost like she’d been waiting on him to ask that.

“It’s soft, a side that you don’t let others see. Even before you realised, I could see that it was filled with such warmth and love that it took my breath away when I realised I loved you. And I loved it when you gave me my smile. A smile that holds a thousand words but it boils down to one feeling.”

And despite the discomfort of his gut twisting, he pressed his lips against hers, a soft, slow kiss.

She’d known but she’d waited for him.

“What would you have done had I never realised? Never considered?” He murmured softly. Her light was now off, they’d been trying to get to sleep, but his mind was still running so fast, so many questions, so many ideas.

“I would have resigned myself to loving my best friend, and breaking my heart a few times before at least, trying to move on.” She finally admitted to the darkness.

His arms grew marginally tighter before he felt her shift and suddenly her fingers were running through his hair, nails gently scraping at his scalp and his entire body relaxed.

“I can hear your thoughts, Hood. Get some sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning.”

It wasn’t much later before he was out like a light and she followed soon after.

It had been difficult to adjust to the relationship at first. He wasn’t sure how to act before she’d laughed and straddled his waist whilst they were sat on the couch together, the action shocking him for a brief second before his hands rested on her hips, her lips already against his.

“It means we still do what we did before, but I can do this.” She’d whispered before kissing him again.

With the extended time off, he tried to keep it as normal as possible. Joining his brothers when they went out drinking, doing the last few shows of the year.

She still came to say goodbye at the airports, promising him that she’d have food and wine for when they returned. They never seemed to go further than a hug that seemed to be held on a few seconds longer though.

But Calum was okay with that.

She was not necessarily his secret, but it was his life that he wanted away from the scrutiny of cameras and fans. And she didn’t complain once.

If anything, she felt relief because she had seen how ruthless the fans could be. When she’d been brought into their friendship group, fans immediately went on the defensive and it had taken her weeks to pull away from the negativity.

And it became easier over time.

But this step in their relationship, she knew it would be met with hostility, no matter how many people saying they looked cute together. It was a hostility she wasn’t ready to deal with.

But the boys noticed how their hug lingered.

Only when the flight was up in the air and she was heading back home, did they finally ask him.

“So have you gotten your head out of that self-loathing pit of yours?” Ashton commented quietly. It last a late night flight, most of the other passengers having already fallen asleep, but the four of them were still awake in first class, quietly talking amongst themselves.

“What do you mean?” Calum knew what Ashton meant, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud. He wanted to know what they had guessed.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Different kisses filtered through his mind as his lips twitched and Ashton grinned.

“Knew it. How did it happen mate?” This had Luke and Michael’s attention.

“Wait, you finally kissed her? About damn time.” Michael muttered and Luke snorted.

“Hold up, how long have you guys been waiting for something to happen?” Cal stared at his three best friends incredulously.

“Months mate. Ash cottoned on first.”

“Cheers Mike, throw me under the bus.”

“Wait, you guys knew she was in love with me? Why didn’t you say anything?” It had been one thing for her not to tell him, but for his brothers in all but blood, he felt hurt.

“You weren’t ready to hear it, Cal.” Luke soothed quietly, seeing the annoyance on his bandmates face. “You would’ve shut her out and we weren’t prepared to make it worse for either of you. So we figured if you hadn’t done anything by New Years, we were going to try and push you both to at least admit it.

And the hurt dissipated.

They were only looking out for the both of them.

“The first night we got back off tour.” He finally spoke, his voice soft.

“Huh?” Came the eloquent response from Michael, making Calum smile.

“It happened the first night we got back from tour. I was restless so I went to visit her. She’d been looking after Duke anyway.”

And so he told them. He told them his epiphany and the following kiss that he’d shared with her.

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to tell them about how they’d lain under the stars and whispered their promises to each other and the world. That was their moment, no one else's.

His friends were beyond happy for him, promising to keep the newly discovered relationship quiet for both his sake and hers.

They loved her too.

Performing the show, he’d never felt so alive. Knowing she was watching him, all the way back home when it was ridiculously early.

He wondered if this was a feeling he could bottle up to keep for the days he was always uncertain.

Going back home after their last show, it was a relief to fall back into her arms once more. It was comfort and he began to understand the sayings home is where the heart lies. And his home was her.

They struggled, like any couple would. They argued, they fought. Sometimes it was petty arguments that they’d end up apologising for, or it was a war of words that had escalated because they had let things sit and fester for too long.

But they were few and far between. It was rare that they got into a fight. The small arguments over the dishes, the washing, it was normal. It was almost always playful unless she was tired and he could see that she was struggling.

And even though people said a relationship should be 50/50, he knew on her bad days, he went the extra mile just to ease the day and she did the same for him. Because that was how they worked.

When they went back into the studio, their early nights turned into late ones, with Y/N falling asleep on the sofa, waiting for him. But she never minded. He was doing what he loved.

And as time and tours went on by, it became easier for both of them to adapt to his life on the road and the unpredictability of his life. But he made sure one thing was certain. Her.

The other three teased him relentlessly for it when they’d walk in on the two of them facetiming. Or the one time when he’d gotten drunk and called her, even though it was the middle of the night for her, he’d written a song for her and They’d laughed at first, but when they reworded the lyrics and found a beat, it became the first single of the following album.

It was as they approached the three year mark did he post anything that hinted to a relationship. And fans went nuts.

All he’d done was post a photo of their entwined fingers, her hand on top of his with no caption. And the boys made it a game to see how many people guessed right.

Surprisingly, only a few had guessed Y/N. Apparently she’d fallen out of the running of mostly likely to date him.

But it wasn’t until six months later when she posted a similar picture, but this time it was his hand on top of hers.

Fans put two and two together, but they never said much else.

It was a mixture of things that had him fall in love with her every day. He was an intensely private person, but around his friends, almost always he managed to talk about what she was doing, or what promotion she’d managed to get.

And as they became more relaxed about their relationship, a few more photos appearing here and there, he found himself enjoying the highs and lows.

As they began to approach their five year anniversary, he found himself thinking back to the year he’d met her, the heartbreak he’d suffered so bad that he stopped believing in love.

It was almost as if fate had put her there, to meet. And he wasn’t a big believer in that either. But when he thought back and reminisced. He was almost certain that their meeting was fates work, to remind him that love could be found, even for those who had been hurt by it so badly.

“What are your plans for the anniversary?” Ashton had come around for a quiet beer, away from the busy lives they led. It wasn’t often they needed to pull away from people and places, but Calum understood Ashton’s need to solitude, and offered it to his home that he now shared with her.

She’d all but moved in after the second year they were together and she hadn’t left since.

Knowing that she was at work, having to pull the graveyard shift, Calum didn’t feel worried about being overheard by her.

“Never thought I’d say this, but I’m planning on proposing.” He finally admitted and Ashton’s grin grew wider by the second.

“Mate, that’s incredible. What made the decision?”

“I was looking back through some of our older stuff, and I realised that there isn’t anyone in this world I want to share this life with. I shared it with her when she was my best friend and I’ve shared it with her since we got together. And I want her to know that it’ll be her every time.”

Ashton sighed happily.

“Y’know, I was worried about you for a while, after-”

“I know.”

“Let me finish, damn.” Ashton muttered with a huff. “I was worried about you for a long time. You seemed to find solace in the bottom of a bottle and it felt like I was watching you drown but I could do nothing to help. And after that party, just meeting her, I could see the change. You still struggled, but you let her help you.” Calum’s cheeks tinted pink.

He always felt a fleeting feeling of shame whenever he thought back to those days where he was a loose cannon.

“I don’t say it to make you feel bad, Cal. But you let her in. And fuck was I so grateful that someone was able to talk sense into you. You’ve done nothing but thrive and grow and honestly, she’s the same. You found each other at the right time and I really hope that you guys get to announce the engagement.”

At this, Calum just chuckled.

“Hold your horses there Ash, I haven’t even asked her.”

“I know, but anybody would be a fool to miss how in love she is with you and vice versa. Do you know how you’re going to do it?”

“Of course. I’ve been planning this for the last year at least.”

Their night continued before both retired for the evening, Ashton crashing in the spare room. She always worried whenever they’d been drinking with them and even with Uber available, having an overactive imagination was sometimes a curse. So their friends quickly learned that if you planned to drink over at theirs, they’d be sleeping in the spare room, just for her sanity.

When it got to their anniversary, Calum had insisted that she book the entire day and night off. To her surprise, her boss had given her the entire weekend off and when she told Calum this, the smile he gave her was full of mischief but she could still see the softer side to it, the side that was hers.

It was a quiet dinner together they shared in their home, the lighting soft which made the mood seem more romantic than she felt was needed, but loved nonetheless.

“Shall we go for a late night stroll?” He finally asked long after they’d had dinner and had been sat together, talking about everything.

The route was familiar, it was the same route they took so many years previous when he realised he loved her. He briefly wondered if she knew where he was taking her.

The city lights still looked as beautiful as they did all those years ago, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I love you.” Her lips curved into a smile and she turned her head, eyes meeting his .

“I love you too.” Came her reply and they stood there in the cool air, watching the city below them.

When they got back to their home, she went to pull off her jacket, but he smirked before continuing to pull her out to the garden.

A giggle escaped her as she pulled him onto the grass, tucking herself into his side once they were lay down, watching the stars.

“I remember the night that I realised my feelings for you, you told me how you come out to tell the stars your secrets and your promises. I knew then I was head over heels in love with you, I was just a dumbass.”

This made her laugh, her eyes crinkling as she pressed her face into his chest to muffle the soft giggles that warmed his heart.

“You promised me that you’d be the man I knew and believed you could be.” She recalls and his heart speeds up slightly. She remembered.

“And you helped me be that man, sweetheart. I have fallen endlessly in love with you and I’ve never been more lucky to have you in my life. So I want to make a new promise, since you helped me fulfill the last one.”

She hums an agreement, her head tilting to look at him. He’s wearing her smile.

“I promise to stand by your side no matter what. To love you, even when we’ve got greys in our hair and more laughter lines in our skin. I promise to continue being the man you believed I could be, the man that I am. I also promise to be the best husband I could be, if you’d let me.”

It took a second for the words to sink in before her eyes went wide as he plucked the small box from his jacket pocket.

“Marry me?”

Her lips were on his before he could even open the box, her hands cradling his face as he felt a few tears fall from her face onto his. But he didn’t care.

“Yes, a thousand times and more, yes.” She whispered against his lips and his heart almost burst from the feeling of joy and love he had for this woman in front of him.

As he slid the ring on her third finger on her left hand, he almost wished he could just imprint this memory to his mind for good. The way her hair fell as her forehead rested against his, small kisses shared every few seconds. The stay tears that were falling down her cheeks, but the smile so wide which destroyed any notion that they were sad tears.

“I make this promise, to always love you, and be the best wife I could ever be. To support you and cherish you, no matter how far apart we are. I love you so damn much.” She finally whispered and he smiled, a few stray tears of his own falling.

“Couldn’t have asked for a better future wife.” This made her giggle, his own laughter joining hers.

His future was set, all because of her.

---

tag list: @cals-babylons , @plainwhiteluke , @calumspeachy , @wrappedaroundcal , @holidayhood , @monsteramongmikey , @talkfastfletcher , @irrevocablylukes , @astroashtonio , @catchinqcalum , @plaidpantsluke , @qualitylu , @5saucewho, @babylon-uncrowned , @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind , @therainydays4 , @asht0ns-world , @silverchainbee , @hidd3nfangirl , @doodleasouarus , @hemmomfg , @mylovehes , @songforhema , @kinglyhood , @youngblood199456 , @makecoffeenotwars , @5squash , @negative-love , @softboycal , @allltimehemmo , @you-of-ghost , @dannisos , @jane-ofalltrades, @meetyoutheremgc , @lmao5sosimagines , @lietoash , @aw-hawkeye , @biggestslutforcalum , @drummerboy794 , @itkindajusthappenedreally, @mycollectionofnuts , @coreybryanttrash , @abitloudforanaccousticset , @boytoynamedcalum , @teampreator , @dukehoods , @hoe4hemmo , @calumhampton , @sassy-asht0n , @toofadedtofight , @gigglyirwin , @blue-skies-are-alright , @hearts-to-the-sky , @tiddlerrr , @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you , @thesensationalcalum , @ashtxns-hxe ,

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wellntruly · 5 years

Text

STRANGER THINGS Recap: 2x08

This is another episode where I remember a fair deal of my initial experience watching it back in 2017 on Jen’s couch. Or more, I could feel the shape around where this episode was. This one, I could VIVIDLY recall, had been TOO MUCH FOR ME, and I had definitely blacked a lot of it out, deliberately, in self preservation. This was confirmed not only by being repeatedly startled into wails by actually seeing the events that occurred inside the shed I had just marked with “AAAAUUGHH”, but also by being taken ENTIRELY by surprise at the ending, A SECOND TIME. And then I cried.

So alright let’s have some fun!!

“” “f u n !! ! !”” “

Stranger Things 2: Chapter Eight, ‘The Mind Flayer’

If you felt like the last episode was a break in the action, because it was, well hang on because we’re sure gonna be jolted right back into it!!! We’re at Hawkins Lab and all Hell is quite literally breaking loose. I love when scientists tell you that some otherworldly creature can’t get through their defenses. YOU DON’T KNOW THAT POLYCARBONATE WORKS ON DEMOGORGONS, OWENS. Fun fact it doesn’t.

Palm slam that big red alarm button and get the f*ck out of there, we got monsters a’crashing and a’clawing right into your laboratory spaces!!!

Dr. Owens grabs Hopper and pulls him into the stairs with him, savvily surmising that maybe what is true in instances of fire is also true in instances of swift-footed tooth-faced beasties: don’t take the elevators.

It is, the rest of them all get eaten.

Upstairs, at the emergency sirens suddenly blaring out through the halls, everyone stops. Mike is currently being held with his back against a wall by Bob, which is a real gift because it indicates that between the last time we saw him, trying to get past the guards yelling about a trap, and now, boy got into such a state that mild-mannered Bob Newby felt the only recourse was to take him by the shoulders and flatten him to the nearest surface. This also affords us the chance to note that Finn Wolfhard is already as tall or taller than Sean Astin as well. What dwindling percentage of this cast was still taller than Finn Wolfhard at 13? An Investigation.

But right now our tall son is getting another opportunity to live his best life: CHAOS LIFE. Because Mike Wheeler is always at his peak in HIGH STAKES DRAMA. He shines in danger, he is On. He plunges back into Will’s room ahead of Bob, declares “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK,” grabs a syringe, and insists “We need to make Will asleep!” The odd, child-like construction of this thought is a fantastic tell for how this worked up kid’s brain is hopping right now. Knock him out, put him under—NO TIME TO FIND THESE PHRASES, NOW NOW NOW WE HAVE TO GO.

Will starts shrieking that Mike is lying about the Shadow Monster being able to see through him and then momentarily fails to recognize his mom, so Mike’s definitely right, and softly, Joyce asks Bob to hold him still. God this must have suuuuucked to film, jesus, Noah Schnapp with his voice all high and course screaming at them to let him go while Winona Ryder and Sean Astin have to hold this struggling little kid down and pretend to inject him with something. It’s upsetting! They did a very good job with this trembling reaction shot of Mike, hands clasped over his ears against his friend’s screams but eyes locked open in terror. God they’re so young, they’re so young to be going through all this.

Hopper and Owens bust in through the door, assess this tableau, and Hop just easily scoops up now-comatose Will like a small duffle bag—“We gotta go, we gotta go.”

But the Lab is practically overrun already---those fuckers move quick. Something captured all too well by the bank of security camera feeds in the control room they duck into, snarling carnage replicated across every floor, no where is safe.

And then the electricity cuts out, all the screens going out with a static fizzle. You should—hell yeah they do, move us to a wide shot of the building so we can watch each floor go dark one by one, and echoing through the night, that otherworldly screaming.

Like I said, they really threw us back into it, huh!!!

After the credits, we learn that Max and Billy have a scary abusive dad, from whom Billy is just continuing the cycle of violence. Sucks! This whole situation sucks! Tearful and enraged with a smarting jaw, Billy is sent out into the night to find his sister. Wow I do not want that variable out loose in our environs tonight? That is something we are not gonna need!

Somewhere in the woods, Dustin, Lucas, and Max are back on the train tracks with their exasperated loyal guardian Steve. The three kids are getting all worked up over who’s rule-break was more dire, Dustin’s lie about having D’Art all along, or Lucas revealing Party secrets to a non-Party member, while un-patiently waiting a few paces away in the dark Steve does this loll of his head like a mask-work eye roll that is really very good, A+ Joe Keery.

Then he hears a distant roar. All three of the boys head off in its direction, leaving Max to ask rationally: “Guys? Guys why are you headed towards the sound?” With a groan she follows, to come out of the trees on a little knoll overlooking: Hawkins Lab. The lights are off, but the Demodogs are very much home.

Inside the Lab, Owens is explaining that unless they can get the electricity back on, they’re trapped in here with the monsters, as the doors are programmed to deadlock at a power outage. The breakers are down in the basement. Hopper takes the alpha man approach of identifying the the largest and most dangerous task and immediately trying to set off to take care of it for his group. It’s a noble instinct, I have great respect for this type of man-oeuvre actually. But also it is dumb and wrong. You need to be more strategic in this and frankly most situations, talk it through just a little more first, make sure the right people are on the right job and that you’ve thought through what will come next. For instance, as Bob explains, after the breakers are flipped someone will have to manually enter a command into the computer system to actually unlock the doors.

“Fine, how do I do that?” Hopper asks. “You can’t!” Bob replies. “Not unless you know BASIC!” Hopper, grim, miserable, courageous, pleading: “I don’t know what that means.”

You know what David Harbour did totally get screwed over in Season 3, I’ll say it, because the man is REALLY good at these complex emotional registers that take me at minimum three adjectives to try to describe, and all he got asked to do the next season was shout.

Anyway, Mike, geek-chirpy and unproductively useful: “It’s a computer programming language.” Thanks bud, but I believe Mr. RadioShack here is gonna be the only one who actually knows how to speak it.

Yup, the time has come again for Bob Newby, Superhero, to be the man we need right when we need him. He says goodbye to Joyce, who is understandably distraught about how everything just keeps getting worse, and out in the hall Hopper gets Bob set up with a handgun. Guns are easier to teach than BASIC. There’s a sentiment about society somewhere in here. Then there’s another man moment, man to man: Bob tells Hopper not to wait for him after he springs the doors, and Hopper, understanding, promises that he’ll get Joyce and the little ones out no matter what, which is all Bob wants. Aww, my men. They’re good ones.

Meanwhile, accurately determining that if someone was poking around the ever weird Byers house taking pics, it would be that mysterious quasi-government run paranormal investigative facility on the edge of town that caused so much trouble last year, Jonathan and Nancy pull up to the gate outside Hawkins Lab, resolutely locked down in front of the dark building. Unusual. Standing outside the car, Nancy hears a sound in the woods of her own, and immediately takes off for it with Jonathan, because everyone in this town has a death wish. Watch out Max, you stay here much longer and you’ll be just like the rest of them.

One thing I remember clearly wishing for while fist watching this season, ever since the events of Chapter Six, was that eventually Nancy and Jonathan would run into Hawkins’s back-up babysitter Steve Harrington and his tween charges out in all the monster nonsense, and be like “—STEVE???!!!?” And I Got That. The reason why both the Duffers and I wanted this so hard, is because it’s such an entertaining and elegant crystallization of Steve’s new role within both the story and the social structures therein. Before, Steve only got pulled in to the Upside Down story through his social structures, specifically through Nancy and sometimes by extension Jonathan. As a secondary character, he was reliant on them for an entrance into this part of the story—he was never going be off doing things related to the monster plot on his own. Now, Steve’s whole role has transformed. He’s been upped to main cast, and suddenly he has agency to move on his own trajectories, this new autonomy within the narrative allowing him to get involved in this season’s Upside Down story when his path just happened to cross with Dustin’s. And what makes this moment SO FUN, is that like everyone else Nancy and Jonathan did not receive a memo about this, and so are just now discovering what we learned two episodes ago: that Steve isn’t just their satellite character anymore. He no longer stays put when they aren’t paying attention to him. No while you two have been out of town, Steve’s been out here tromping around in the woods having his own adventures and lookin’ good doing it. Not only that, he’s in charge of others. Like imagine, last time you saw Steve he was bummed out outside the gym, and now he’s striding out of the forest with his nail bat on his shoulder and Demogorgon blood on his jeans, leading a child militia. What the FUCK. G O D it’s so fiercely enjoyable.

So this moment happens, I’m incandescently happy, everyone’s like what are You doing here??, it’s one of those great little tumults—and then we’re dropped ungently back into the stakes. Because one of the most satisfying things about this show is its established pattern of letting groups work on problems independently before eventually coming together to combine forces & knowledge. And one of the terrible things about this show is when that happens, and two older siblings suddenly learn that both of their cute little brothers are in that battened down Lab, being stalked by vicious ravenous monsters. Their faces are just like Oh noooooo!

(Incidentally, god really: a Wheeler always loves a Byers, and a Byers always loves a Wheeler. And it’s so cute every time, a sweet shy Byers boy & their dramatic firebrand Wheeler child. LUV THIS PAIRING. REAL GOOD.)

Suddenly, the lights come back up in the Lab. Such a triumphant and visual indication to the team in the control room that Bob made it, he’s still alive and he’s doing it! And now they can see him too, on the feed from the basement, as he taps out the BASIC commands to unlock all the doors. And we are GO for exit, team! “Son of a bitch did it,” Hopper says, grinning warmly at the screen. \o/ Bob!

Looking at the screens, Owens has realized something. He’s realized that something that would be invaluable to anyone trying to get out of this building, would be if they had eyes on their route warning them what was up ahead. And Doc Owens feels responsible. And Doc Owens really is a good guy, we do get to like him. He tells the Chief that he’s staying behind at the comms, and he’ll guide them out. Aw Doc!

Joyce and Hopper and the boys make it to safety, a clear shot, and then Joyce lingers by the doors praying Bob gets there soon. But Bob is having a much more challenging departure. Carefully, Owens leads him around the Dogs, but he can’t prevent an errant broom handle from falling to the linoleum floor as Bob slips back out of a custodial closet. Bob makes a run for it, and he almost makes it, he sees Joyce there at the doors—!

And then the monsters get Sean Astin. Oh Bob, I knew you weren’t gonna get out of here alive, but I’m so sad! :(

Hopper runs in at Joyce’s screams but it’s too late, and he has to pull her out of the lobby as, mindless with grief, she keeps trying to go back for Bob. Just outside Mike is trying to hold Will’s unconscious body up to his chest, which is so charmingly silly, my own son you could just lay him on the ground. Hopper lifts Will back from his skinny arms as Jonathan and Nancy peel up in their car, tapping out a little honk call sign that I find unaccountably endearing and absurd. “Come on! Get in!”

Back at the gate, Steve and his ducklings scramble out of the way as Jonathan comes racing back away from the haunted castle with his mom and their brothers in another little flurry of honks, Hopper right behind in his empty truck for the forest gang to pile into.

And they all head for, where else: the Byers house.

I wonder what time it is, by this point. It’s still Sunday night, but I don’t know how late. Joyce is the only one who knows where her kids are, but her phone isn’t ringing with any other parent of Hawkins, because Hopper is on the line. As Jonathan sits on the couch with Will’s unconscious head in his lap, gently apologizing to him for not being here, Chief Jim Hopper is attempting to explain to whatever federal cavalry he has called that they have got to get out here right away. They clearly must suggest he call the police, allowing the bleak hilarity of Hopper going “I AM the police!” Haha, oh god what a mess. All the kids sit at the table watching their policeman, knowing that Hopper’s adults are not going to believe him. They know how this works. Hopper’s like well we’ll see and Mike exclaims “WE’LL SEE?” and Hopper’s just like son, chill. We wait for help. Remember how we learned that help is good.

Then he goes and sits on Joyce’s floor, leaning against her dresser, and just *is* there for her, while she sits on her bed in a blanket and cries. Aw :(

But Mike, a Protagonist, is not going to take this sitting down. Or looking down—he’s the only one in the kitchen with his eyes up, and I just chuckled like “here he goes.” Mike fetches Bob’s brain teasers he’d brought over for Will, and starts telling everyone about how Bob was the originally founder of Hawkins A/V. Oh my heart, he’s eulogizing him through story! And he’s motivating them. Mike wants to Do Something, for Bob, but the rest of them are like what though, Michael? Oh you know what, Dustin: ACQUIRE KNOWLEDGE. Yaaaayy. This constant theme of this season…I love it.

So Mike starts talking out what they know so far, putting things together, making new connections. Steve, who has now gained another child to look after, finds his main role with this new one is to keep asking, “Slow down—what?” But Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are on a role now, figuring that if Will is part of this interconnected hivemind that Dr. Owens talked about, then the head of it, the brain, would be the Shadow Monster that was stalking him at Halloween, the huge smokey spider-legged being that got him on the field. And Dustin realizes this whole thing sounds familiar.

I like a lot this echo reverb on Lucas’s snap as he sees what Dustin is putting down.

Dustin, dropping a Dungeons & Dragons book open on the kitchen table: “The Mind Flayer.” Hopper: “What the hell is that.”

I’m living. God and Gaten Matarazzo’s uptalk on his correction “No, no it’s a manual?” Incredible.

Seriously whenever the kids’ D&D references work as the best metaphor to explain what they’re facing, it’s just so fun. Revenge of the Nerds. Metaphor, analogy, fine thank u Lucas—this is the best blueprint for action and you know it. Reluctantly, Nancy agrees to engage with this concept. “It wants to conquer us, basically,” Dustin explains at her question of motivation. “It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve: “Oh like the Germans.” Dustin: “Uh, the Nazis?” Steve, panicking: “Yeah, yeah the Nazis.” Hopper: [pushing his fingers over his eyes and groaning in the background] Dustin: “Uh, if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally.”

Where the metaphor really breaks down though is when they get to the zombies. Dustin acknowledges that yeah this no longer has much practical application for them in their situation.

But Joyce arrives at this point to add her voice to the conference, and Joyce wants to kill that thing. Hopper’s like I am extremely down with this, just give me a WAY. And Mike remembers whose voice has been missing in all this: Will’s. The thing about the spying going both ways, is that the spying goes both ways.

It’s risky. If Will recognizes where he is, the Mind Flayer will send the Demodogs after them. But are they still gonna do it? Oh heck yeah.

Everyone sets to work masking the shed out back, in convenient pairs that will afford them the chance to talk. Nancy tells Steve that it was really cool of him to step up with the kids. Dustin apologizes to Lucas about D’Art and says he can feel the vibe between Lucas and Max. Max tells Mike she understands why he misses El so much, because from what Lucas told her she sounds awesome.

And Steve, Lucas, and Mike ALL respond rather poorly. It’s kind of amazing. Wow we didn’t accomplish much there, three times over! Listen sometimes emotional injuries are not simple fixes. But hey, we’re trying.

Team Will the Wise has added Jonathan in, and kept Mike because he has not let Will out of his line of sight in over 48 hours and sure isn’t starting now. And inside the shed, the shed I’d marked “AAAAUUGHH”, they genuinely tie Will up in a chair and turn a spotlight on him. Okay Noah, you ready for your greatest challenge yet?

Hopper wakes him with some ammonia, and now we’ve officially entered into a full-fledged possession narrative. The Mind Flayer has the reigns, and Will screams and screams and screams to be let go, the lights flickering all the way into the house where the rest of our kids waiting anxiously. But Hopper just holds him, and wow, it works? Will tires himself out, braced against Hopper’s dad arm across his chest instead of pulling against the cords and hurting himself, aw Hop.

As Will breathes heavily, drained, his mom suddenly asks him if he remembers his eighth birthday. Emotionally, lovingly, Joyce tells him about how she gave him a huge box of crayons, and he drew this enormous rainbow spaceship. Oh my god <3 my boy <3

Jonathan sees what she’s doing, and asks if Will remembers the day their dad left, and they stayed out in the woods building Castle Byers even after it started raining. And as they talk to him, telling him about himself, reminding him who he is, and that he is loved, he is so loved, Will just keeps staring at them, transfixed. It feels like a struggle, like a clinging, he stares and strains, not against the ropes but against whatever Else it is that’s holding him.

Mike asks if Will remembers the day they met. Oh no Mike has a tear coursing down his cheek, oh god I was not ready for that cut! First day of kindergarten, so alone, and he saw Will on the swings and asked if he wanted to be his friend. This is exactly how I made my first friend too, god children are pure.

“You said yes. You said yes. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

…I’m gonna need a minute???!

Will trembles, and then he stills again. He doesn’t shout, but his voice still isn’t his. “Let me go,” he repeats. Aaahh !

But Hopper notices his fingers, tapping rhythmically against the chair leg. Oh! Aah?! This whole plot is a lot I see why I buried it!

Back in the house, he draws out the dots and dashes on a piece of paper.

Steve: “What is that?” Literally everyone in the room in unison: “Morse code.”

Oh Steven. Love you.

The message reads “HERE.” Hell yeah baby!!!! That’s my Will!!!! THE DEAREST, THE SCRAPPIEST.

They swiftly reassemble in a new system, Joyce and Jonathan and Mike telling Will stories and playing him music while he stares in bright-lit strangled longing at them, and Hopper watching his little hand, tapping the Morse into a transmitter held behind his back, relayed to the house where Dustin and Nancy transcribe it at the kitchen table. I love…..analog.

At last, they have Will’s message: “CLOSE GATE”. Gate? Oh gotta be that rift right!

Abruptly, the phone rings, cutting through the night. It might actually be the military calling back, occurs to me. But NOT RIGHT NOW, PLS. Dustin scrambles over and hangs it up, as if that has solved the problem in perpetuity. A second later it just rings again, and Nancy pushes him out of the way, rips the whole receiver out the wall and throws it down the hall. I fucking love Nancy.

But it’s too late. Will’s eyes R.E.M. flicker under his eyelids—the Mind Flayer is finding them.

They put poor, poor Will under again (god he must be wrecked), and Hopper gathers everyone in the house to make their stand against whatever comes their way. When Jonathan just stammers at Hopper asking if he can use a shotgun, Nancy “Sharpshooter” Wheeler steps up with “I can” and he tosses it to her no questions asked. Behind her Lucas has his wrist rocket pulled and it’s pitifully adorable. Frankly Steve’s bat is still maybe the best weapon against the Demodogs, as bullets haven’t even seemed to slow them down much, but a slam with the business end of this baby at least knocks them to the ground for a moment. My son Mike appears to be holding a small trophy and I don’t even know the best joke to put here. Worlds #1 Dumbass. At least you’re the winner in my heart. Listen he’s participating.

So very soon, the terrible chittering sound arrives, rustling through the bushes, bangs and other noises circle the house. I am on tenterhooks! But nothing is coming inside……

Until the body of one of the Dogs comes crashing through the living room window---but you can tell it’s dead even before Hopper nudges it with his foot. Oh shit what? WHAT could have killed one of these? What is stronger than them?? What the fuck is out there????

Guys they got me two times. They got me this time too, I was genuinely like ??!!??! with my teeth on my knuckles. But when the lock undid itself inside the door, I remembered, I KNEW, I KNEW AGAIN and my whole heart was yelling!!

A slow pan up from her dorky socks pulled over her cuffs, Hopper immediately letting his weapon fall, me CRYING, all their faces, Mike stepping forward already a fucking mess, and he just smiles at her. Eleven smiles so happily, so teary, blood running under nose, and that’s how you close a penultimate episode.

- - - - -

Love Letters to Stranger Things

#since my last one was atypically short this one is allowed to be longer than usual right?#Love Letters to Stranger Things #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 2 #Stranger Things spoilers #Tarra recaps stuff #Stranger stuff

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deluxedolans · 6 years

Note

Numbers 93,53, and 149 pleaseeeeee

hi, baby! thank you so much for wanting to see my takes on these prompts💙 I love you and hope you’re having a good weekend!! also sorry this ended up being really long!

A/N: I know absolutely nothing about Fortnite other than Victory Royales, so sorry for any inaccuracies hehe.

I am not currently taking requests for any of the drabble prompts. 💙

Prompts: #93. “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’”, #53. “That wasn’t very subtle.” & #149. “I just need ten minutes.”

The sun beamed down on your bikini clad body, as you reclined back in your lounge chair, the cool ocean breeze running through your hair. One hand dangled over the side of the chair, your fingers grazing the sand, while the other held a refreshing piña colada. You threw your head back in bliss, your cheeks facing upwards to soak in the heat of the sun. Suddenly, your hand that hung over the side of the chair was embraced by a larger one. You looked down to see Ethan’s hand enveloping your own, rubbing it back and forth as his lips were saying words that you couldn’t understand.

“What?” You asked him, asking him to clarify his words, or speak up so you could hear him.

In response to your expression, he then began to tap your hand in urgency. “Babe, what are you saying?”

“Y/N, wake up! Wake up!” Wake up? You thought you were already awake. Then you felt two pairs of fingers begin to poke into your side …

“Babe, wake up! I have to show you something!” Ethan’s voice rang out throughout the bedroom, his excitement evident.

“Hmmm? I just need ten minutes.” You still weren’t fully awake yet, and to be honest, you didn’t really want to be. From behind your eyelids you could tell it was still dark out and definitely way too early to be woken up.

“Babe, babe, can I just show you something for one second, open your eyes, please!” Ethan shook you gently, and grabbed at your hands, encouraging you to sit up in bed.

“I swear to God if it’s your dick, Ethan, I’m gonna deck you,” you warned, your voice thick with sleep.

“I’m not naked, but if I were, would that be so bad?” Ethan inquired. “I can take you any place, anywhere, anytime–.”

“The time is not now, Ethan!” Since you had yet to make any movements, Ethan scooped you up in his arms. Your eyes popped open at his actions, annoyed at his persistence.

“Look, baby, I got a victory royale again! I played in advanced mode too, so all the guys I placed against were amazing. It was touch and go for awhile but–.”

“So you didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood?” you interrupted, pushing your hair back from your face.

The big grin on Ethan’s face brought warmth to your heart at his happiness, but also disappointment at the realization that his desperation to wake you up wasn’t because he wanted to fuck you.

“No! See! I won, babe, I won–.” You smiled softly at him, settling back into the pillows. “I’m very happy for you, babe,” you said as you rubbed your eyes, glancing at the TV screen at the front of the room decorated in bright colors indicating Ethan’s victory.

“You gonna come to bed now?” You asked, raising a brow, and patting the space beside you.

Ethan shook his head, reaching back for the controller that was left on his gaming chair, “Nah, I’m probably gonna play for a bit more. I’m sorry for waking you, babe, I just got excited.” Ethan’s smile displayed all of his teeth, his enthusiasm for his PlayStation clear in his facial expression.

“After all that, you’re not coming to bed?” You were incredulous; Ethan literally woke you up in the middle of the night to tell you about him winning a round of Fortnite, (which was not surprising in the slightest), but the fact that he woke you up and wouldn’t come cuddle was a little annoying.

“Nope, I’m gonna play a few more rounds. You can go back to bed, though, baby.” You ran a hand over your face at Ethan’s words; you were wide awake now. You always had a hard time sleeping when Ethan wasn’t right there next to you; when you had laid in bed hours earlier, your head was settled on Ethan’s bare chest, and his arm was wrapped around you tightly, but now the space next to you felt cold and lonely, the need for your boyfriend growing stronger with each passing moment.

You sighed softly, trying to cuddle down under the covers. You slid open your phone, and noticed you’d received a few texts while you were asleep. One was from your mom saying good night and that she missed you, the other was from your best friend, Annie, responding to a meme you had sent, and the other was from an unknown number. Curious, you clicked the contents of the text to see what this mystery person had said:

Unknown (11:32 PM):

Hey Y/N, it’s Mike. I’m drybk rn, and just wanted to say I miss u

You internally rolled your eyes. Mike was a guy from your Intro to World History class that you had to do a year long project with last semester. Mike was very nice at the beginning of the year; always offering for you two to work on the project at his place, and buying supplies for the assignment. However, whenever you and Mike would go to the house you shared with the twins to work on your project, you could feel Ethan attempting to contain his possessiveness from a mile away; constantly interrupting the conversations you two would have regarding any class notes, his eyes narrowing whenever you’d laugh at a joke Mike would make, and continuously walking by you two in the living room, making sure that nothing suspicious was occurring.

In spite of the fact that Ethan trusted you, he always had gotten bad vibes off of Mike; Ethan claimed that he could just tell that Mike had a crush on you. However, you were fully, and completely in love with Ethan and you were deeply convinced that Mike didn’t see you that way; all things that you reiterated to Ethan time and time again, but still, his concerns surrounding your history project partner persisted.

You scrolled on to the next message,

Unknown (11:35PM):

I miss when we’d order pizza and hang out

Hang out? You guys were working on your history project … you weren’t “hanging out”.

Unknown (11:36PM):

Are u ignoring mw????

Unknown (11:40PM):

Answer me

Your eyes widened at his urgency; maybe Ethan was right about Mike having a crush on you.

“Babe?” You called out, attempting to drag his attention away from the flashing television screen. Ethan ignored you; too engrossed in his game to hear what you were saying.

“Babe, I have to show you something.” You cringed internally, your current words sounding so familiar to what he said only thirty minutes ago.

“Hang on a sec, babe, I’ll be there in a minute,” Ethan murmured, his fingers punching into the controller furiously as he attempted to shoot down the enemy.

Unknown (12:00AM):

I jsut wanna see ur beautiful fsce and then I’ll be good

The messages went on and on all the way up until one ‘o clock when they stopped.

“Babe, I really need to show you something,” you urged, your eyes practically bugging out of your head as you saw the texts escalate.

“Just let me finish this round, and I promise then I’ll snuggle with you, baby.”

You sighed. Then, your phone began to ring, of course, the number popping up unknown. At first, you thought of ignoring it; clearly you had zero interest in Mike. However, maybe this phone call would finally snap Ethan out of his gaming trance.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? I’m so glad you answered! I misssss you so much. I need to talk to you,” Mike slurred, his voice loud as he attempted to make his voice heard among the wild background noise.

“Listen, you’re drunk, please stop texting me–..”

Upon hearing your command, Mike’s voice immediately dropped several octaves, “No, you listen to me. Eddie is no good for you, I can be so much better for you.”

“His name is Ethan, you jackass, and I don’t like you that way, please stop contacting me,” you pleaded, your voice raising as you yourself became frustrated. He knew you were in a relationship, and still he was being an asshole.

Ethan’s head turned back quickly when he heard his name, and he paused the game as soon as he saw you were on the phone. He took his headset off, now giving you his full attention.

“Who are you talking to?” Ethan mouthed, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

You put your phone to your shoulder, blocking the speaker from your mouth, “Just guess.” You responded, hitting a button so the call was on speakerphone.

“He treats you like shit, I bet he can’t even fuck you right with his chode dick. You deserve so much better than him, Y/N, and I can give you that. Come over here and I’ll make you scream just by looking at me–.”

Ethan’s eyes turned dark as soon as he heard Mike’s drunken voice come through the speakers. “You have got to be kidding me right now. I fuckin’ knew it!”

Ethan took the phone out of your hands, his hands shaking with rage, “The only way she’s gonna be screamin’ is when she’s running away from your ugly ass. Don’t you dare call her again. In fact, don’t call my girl, don’t look at my girl, don’t even breathe near my girl. There’s a reason she’s with me and not with you, asshole. I knew you were a fucking prick from the moment I met you–.”

“Y/N, call me when you’re ready for a real man.”

“You motherfucker, you call me when you’re ready to handle this like a real man. Fuck you, you motherfucker, take a hint, she doesn’t want you. We have more fun together in one second than you’ll ever have in your miserable life. If I ever see you even inhale in her direction, I’ll wreck you. Leave her the fuck alone.” And with that, Ethan hung up the phone, his chest heaving, and his free hand balled in a fist.

Ethan’s mouth open and shut several times in both anger and shock.

“I told you so.” Ethan whispered, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Have I mentioned I hate that guy?” EThan growled, pacing around them room.

“Well, no shit. That wasn’t very subtle,” you said flatly, walking after Ethan.

You sighed, “baby, I’m sorry I–.”

Ethan whipped around suddenly, grabbing your hips and pulling you in so your foreheads were touching. “No, you tried to tell me; don’t you dare apologize to me. I’ll be spending the rest of this night making it up to you, and I don’t care if it’s three AM.” Ethan smirked, picking you up by the back of your thighs and walking you back to bed.

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