#also I love thinking about middle age Stan and Bill <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[antisociallilbrat]

So we know in movie canon that Bill and Stan both end up needing glasses when they're older and honestly I love that but I keep thinking about Stan getting glasses first- probably in like his early 30s and Bill...he refuses too. He's not old dammit! ...but he's always stealing Stan's glasses bc they may or may not help him see and Stan eventually gets so tired of this that he schedules Bill an eye doctor appointment behind his back. He says it's for himself and he brings Bill with him bc they plan to get food after.

They're both sitting in the waiting room of the eye doctor and the nurse comes out calling for a Bill Denbrough instead of a Stanley Denbrough and Bill is like?? This must be some mistake? His husband wouldn't betray him like that?? But Stan is pushing him out of the waiting room chair, "She called your name Bill, it's rude to ignore her."

Yes Bill pouts all the way home with his new little thin frame glasses resting on his nose after insisting to the eye doctor he didn't need them. Meanwhile Stan is very smug as he drives them home bc he can finally keep his own glasses.

[kitpanthera]

last one for now!! thank you so so much for answering my questions, this has been so fun. (also, my phone randomly started updating in the middle of me typing this out so if, for some reason, you have an unfinished version of this in your inbox, my bad.)

chapters 26-27 🎉

1. dipper thinking about mabel using the memory gun on him to make him forget bill,,, hm. even if they DID do that, that might honestly make things worse? like, dipper would then be bound to deals that he no longer remembers making or what the terms of them are. i also don't know if a child's mind would recover as well to use of the memory gun.

2. dipper feeling like bill is the only one who doesn't have an idealized version of him is his head... i'm not sure i agree! bill's placed him on a very high pedestal with a very high fall should he get knocked off it... and dipper saying that bill encouraged him to be himself and TAUGHT him how to do that because he's never been able to do that before,,, i'm chewing on glass rn.

3. the entire phone call section,,, stan immediately saying he would keep the twins with him and their parents wanting split custody (a fake out to get the other to back down? did they spend the whole time arguing over who got mabel? neither of them wanting to take dipper...). "they can come up here and tell them themselves" yes please! dipper had his moment with mabel, now he deserves to yell at his parents (as a treat). "hey guys! thanks for coming all the way here 💞💞💞 loved seeing you but i can't wait to never see you again! you don't need to miss my choir recitals anymore because my choir no longer exists! you can go back to just being mabel's parents while i go rule with world with my best friend, the interdimensional demon who's bringing about a new age on earth, you might know him. see you never!"

4. it's such a small thing but ford bending down to talk to dipper so they're on the same page!! he cares so much about these kids and he just met them 😭 him taking the time to reassure dipper that they're family and that he seems himself in dipper!!! him smiling when dipper agrees with stan that he's like ford (though not in the way he expects). that must've been another painful moment for stan!

5. does mabel realize how big of a deal it is that dipper can speak to bill during the day/without being asleep?

6. dipper not seeinging weirdmageddon as the apocalypse because the apocalypse has negative connotation!! weirdmageddon is GOOD to him so it's the bringing about of a new age!

7. dipper's mental form changing to look more like bill's human form instead of pre-gravity falls dipper,,, after he has recognizes how much he's changed,,, right after being compared to ford,,,

8. ford must feel so stupid for showing dipper the rift! i'm assuming dipper didn't just smack the rift out of his hands because bill wants ford on his side willingly? not sure you're going to get that, bill...

9. dipper still caring about stan enough to remind gideon of their deal! and being upset when bud threatens stan! the ghost of dipper-past is haunting dipper's mental house (it's empathy and compassion for people other than bill).

10. dipper letting bill takeover the reins because he's so drained from being involved with the pines,,, him still hoping that someone it's not him and no one noticing,,, NO ONE NOTICING (i'm ripping my hair out)

11. dipper watching the billford reunion,,, guys stop being messy, toxic exs in front of a 12 yo!

12. dipper hiding in the grass/wheat... is the distinction important? both represent different things (wheat as salvation and resurrection while grass can be protection and concealment...). are they a mental representation of the ways ford has tried to protect himself or move on from bill?

13. an eternal night!! stars staying the same even during weirdmageddon!! everyone always being able to see the stars!! is that almost like,, a gift? since they both value the stars so much, and bill wanted to bring the stars to his people, is that almost more of a "benevolent overlord" thing from bill? or really just gifts to themselves?

14. how different that conversation would've gone if dipper hadn't mentioned ford!

15. mabel realizing that he's just been around because he's manipulating ford while ford didn't notice,,, is he that desperate for human connection that he doesn't notice dipper manipulating him? or is dipper just that good at acting?

16. dipper telling mabel it's deals PLURAL. i wonder if she had realized that before, if that's a big thing for her, or if she didn't even notice.

17. "he takes my feelings seriously, unlike you," and "you've only ever dismissed me, mabel" but him still missing her and wanting to be close to her,,, him saying that he doesn't want to only be close with bill but she's giving him no choice,,, i am staring into the sun.

18. dipper comparing mabel to their mom! is that because he sees both of them as "checking out" of their relationship with him? and then mabel immediately saying she doesn't want to think about home and that they don't even know what they're going home to 😭 gravity falls feeling more like home than piedmont has in years 😭😭😭

19. i'm assuming bill saying "pine tree" was him trying to warn him that bill was in earshot? i'm kind of surprised that bill didn't take over during the fight to try to separate them before they could reveal dipper and bill's friendship to ford.

20. did ford hear dipper ask bill to take over and that he didn't want to be there?

21. "i know it's me you want!" well...

22. does anyone hear ford shouting at dipper? that would probably be hard to explain to the tourists lol

24. mabel always being the one to start weirdmageddon... fate again? or maybe something more like a fixed point or "canon event" like in spider verse?

25. did dipper stop wearing his bill jewelry once ford showed up? he mentions starting to wear it consistently, but not that he's stopped.

26. physical effects of using magic showing up soon,,, roadside attraction being the next episode,,, dipper being changed SO significantly,,, can he even pass through the barrier anymore? i'm imagining him in the rv and just SLAMMING into the barrier at 60 mph not going well. but it would reveal that as a problem to bill before weirdmageddon begins...

27. dipper learning to take pain rather than bill flipping the switch,,, is that because bill wants to it be authentic or because he knows flipping that switch would be too noticeable?

thank you thank you thank you sm!!! again, i'm sure i'll be back with more, but that's just from my first read through in a while!

Oh yeah I've been spending all my spare time replying?? Truly I could yap about my own series for days, this has legitimately been so so enjoyable for me!!

1. Yeahhhh, it would not go well, especially with how much more impressionable young minds are. Dipper would have no clue who Bill was, but still have a pact bond with him, still have him able to possess him whenever he wanted... A dark AU to consider.

2. Dipper is sort of aware of this pedestal? But he's determined that he set himself there, not Bill. He has intentionally set himself up to be that way for Bill because of his whole "I can fix him" mentality. He wants Bill to think he can fix him, too (and he kinda does?). But who he is on that pedestal, as far as he's concerned, is still himself.

3. The nature of the custody argument is yet to be revealed... But hooooo boy, can't wait to write that one! We stan Stan as a parent stand in for these kids; he's not perfect but he's better for these kids than their parents are!

4. For as much crap as Ford gets from the fandom, I love my boy! He really does care so much about them. They're just kids, they're twins, and to him, they start as a wholesome reminder of himself and Stan when they were that age. He's protective and caring! He also bends down to their level to talk to them multiple times in canon, and I love that for him! He also is someone I love to whump, so be prepared. :)

5. Not really? She knows his whole relationship with Bill and the way it's escalating is dangerous, but she's not aware of how all Bill works, exactly, so she doesn't know how significant that is.

6. Yes!! They're basically ringing in the New World Order (fitting to use an Illuminati term, no?)

7. :)

8. Pretty much, yeah. Bill still wants to be able to convince Ford to join him, and is hoping by cultivating a bond of trust between him and Dipper, he'll still be able to do that.

9. Yes! Dipper gets the chance to defend his family and show off how powerful he is, so he'll take it! Best of both worlds, really.

10. :)

11. They will ✨ not ✨

12. It is wheat! I'm impressed you picked up on that specific symbolism in it; in canon, it's wheat, but the symbolism is more in Dipper's perception that he's pretty sure it's wheat. Bill helped him be reborn, after all. :)

13. Sort of a gift to themselves. More on this to come. :)

14. One can only wonder...

15. Dipper is quite a good actor and it helps that he actually does like Ford. Mabel is definitely a bit smarter than Dipper gives her credit for, though, and more observant.

16. She won't notice until later. :)

17. :)

18. Yes! And his mom has always been emotionally manipulative,, as well, playing the victim and guilting Dipper into doing things for her. Dipper feels he's received the same from Mabel, though admittedly not maliciously. But yeah, Mabel doesn't even know about the divorce :)

19. Bill found it more important in the moment to preserve the idea that Mabel has no idea Dipper is being possessed, because he thought switching in the middle of the heated conversation might tip her off, and she might say something. Ford is a bit easier to deal with, and Bill doesn't need him, he just wants him. (But yes, it was a warning.)

20. Yes!

21. :)

22. Who's to say? :)

23. We'll see how things play out! Coming soon...

24. Oh, he did! But he'll be wearing it again now that the cat's out of the bag.

25. :)

26. A bit of both?? Switching a flip completely would be too noticeable and would have some negative side effects. He also wants Dipper to mirror him, and he learned naturally, himself.

no problem!! Thank you so much, really, this is sincerely so much fun!!!!

[soulwillower]

tozier • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here’s my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: underage drinking, very flirty bill denbrough, smut, oral (male receiving), a teeny bit of deepthroating, fingering, switch bill, unprotected sex, praise kink, a teeeeeny bit of a pain kink i guess but i think that’s it. unedited

part 5 of the tozier series [  i  ii  iii  iv  ]

(losers and reader are 20+ and in college in this)

5.7k words

♡

when richie had galloped into your room to tell you that the losers were coming over, you’d just shrugged it off and nodded your head - you were used to your brother’s friends being around. honestly, now it didnt ever bother you because despite the pain in the ass that he is, your brother sure knew how to pick a friend or two (or six).

you’re thinking about that as you pad into your kitchen, face on the floor until you see richie’s legs sat backwards in a chair.

“hiya.” richie greets you with a two-fingered salute as you look up. you open your mouth to respond but your breathing is cut short when you look to the right, where bill denbrough stands in all his stupid sexy glory in the middle of your kitchen, toying with a lighter as he meets your eyes.

bill. oh god.

“hey, y/n.” he says with a soft grin, his green eyes alight with joy as he tosses his lighter to richie, who catches it swiftly.

you try your hardest to not fucking blush because damn it, all he said was “hi” and you’re honest to god 3 seconds away from taking off all of your clothes and leaping onto him. or vomiting in the sink - maybe both. for some reason, bill always makes you feel hot, no matter how old you get and how many of his friends you bone.

“h-hi bill, how are you?” you ask back, cursing your nervous stutter. richie, who has apparently decided to throw caution to the wind and smoke openly in your kitchen instead of going out back to the yard, chuckles through his lit cig. “aw, you’re startin' to sound like him, sis.”

you shoot richie an alarmed look, "that's a bit rude." you say and richie shrugs it off, wiggling his stupid bony hand at you, “nah c’mon, it’s so cute!” he insists and you just turn even redder.

“n-no, he’s right.” bill mutters with another goddamn smile and your chest flutters with butterflies as you make eye contact. “but i’m doing really good, thanks. how are you, y/n? are you going to come w-with us tonight?”

you and richie both look at the boy standing casually at your kitchen counter, his eyes innocent as he pops a blackberry between his plush lips. you have to tear your eyes from him because he’s staring at you expectantly and you think you might fucking combust.

bill denbrough, your brother’s best friend, was very hot. obviously. he had always been sweet - when you were all in middle school you remember bill always being kind albeit dismissive when you would see him at your house in passing.

but puberty smacked into bill like a fucking freight train, just as it did to you and your brother and all of his friends, and bill was a borderline god now. it was completely un-fucking-fair, because you swear sometime between when richie slept with your best friend and now, you went from barely batting an eye when the boy was around your house to blushing when he so much as looked at you and waking up in a sweat after having a dream of him sneaking into your room from richie’s and fucking the daylights out of you.

totally, completely un-fucking-fair.

but sometimes, you kind of thought bill saw you in the same way you saw him. sometimes.

it was there in the way bill’s eyes would meet yours; it was there in his gentle words and sharp laughter whenever stan or your brother made a stupid joke and bill was three beers into the night, the way he’d immediately look for you every time he did so.

you’re pretty sure it was there most of the time - even before you started on this quest of sorts to get back at richie, because it's not like you weren't thinking about richie's friends before you started this whole thing. and bill has always been the boy next door, the friend that your mom always gushed about even from a young age; he's just grown into his looks so quickly in the five years since you were in middle school.

and that, in itself, is the real reason why you’re thrown by bill’s insistence that you join the rest of the group tonight - you can count on your hands the amount of times that bill denbrough has asked you to hang out. it's not like he doesn't like you, but it's more like he doesn't care if you're there either way. and you hate to say it, but that nonchalant attitude makes your thighs clench every time he smirks when you walk into the room.

“i mean, sure, that's cool.” you say neutrally, feeling way shier than you ought to when, at the same time, you’re watching bill crack his knuckles and all you can think about is him sliding his fingers deep inside of you.

“we're going to kiera gross's party.” bill says with barely any interest as he picks another blackberry out, and yes you are blushing again so you turn to look at your brother instead. you really didnt want to piss rich off, but if bill denbrough was insisting you go with them tonight...

he shrugs, "whatever, just don't be a bitch." he says with a playful grin. "oh, and don't get too flustered tonight, y/n. you know, cuz stan's coming." richie says in tease, making you flush. "shut up, richie." you hiss, shoving his shoulder and sneaking a glance at bill, whose expression is unreadable as he stares between you and your brother.

you'd had a small crush on stan when you were kids, which had weaned off eventually, but it used to be fairly obvious. stan was so funny and intelligent and admittedly very hot, but he and especially richie still tease you about it occasionally, which is very mortifying. you don't know why you're so flustered that bill knows - it's not like he'd care for any reason, and he's too nice to really tease you about it too much anyways, and it's not like he hasn't heard them tease you about it before.

you're just embarrassed.

"okay. yeah, i remember her. i'll come." you mutter, toying with the hem of the shirt you're wearing and smiling at bill. you feel hot under his gaze and your legs clench together just at the way his fingers tap against the counter. god.

"y/n, what the hell, 's that my shirt?" richie pipes up, switching the subject with brows furrowed as you blink. "i don't know what you're talking about." you say, trying to feign innocence as you grin at the two boys in front of you. richie scowls, "c'mon, stop stealing my shit!" he whines and you shrug, glaring at him, "stop stealing my weed, then."

"take it off." he grumbles, crossing his arms, and you scoff.

"big deal, rich, you have so many other shirts." you reason as you walk over to fill up a glass of water. "no, y/n, it's mine. take it off!" he insists, and you sigh, making eye contact with bill from across the counter.

"fine!" you snap, getting a sly idea in your head. a very bold idea, one that will be perfect to piss richie off. so you start to lift the shirt up from off your frame, lifting a pointed brow at richie as his eyes widen and he rushes towards you.

"no, no! jesus, don't fuckin' do that." he yelps. bill's chuckling and you can't help but look up at him, flushing under his smirk as he lifts his brows playfully at you. he looks so hot as he smirks down at you, his eyes trailing down to where your fingers still have the hem of the shirt lifted up slightly.

"i-i wouldn't mind." bill says quietly, a glint in his eyes that immediately makes you flush, your stomach flipping around at his words as you tear your gaze away, feeling the adrenaline rush from your brother's anger and bill's attention. your heart stops at his words and your stomach burns, butterflies fluttering around as a small giggle escapes your lips.

"bill, stop. fuck you. fuck both of you, actually." richie mutters, rolling his eyes and turning away from you both, putting out his cigarette on his shoe and standing to go throw it away. bill looks at you with red cheeks of his own, lifting a brow in tease as he looks at you.

"he was just joking, richie." you say with a smirk, ignoring how weak your legs feel. you grip the counter as you stare at bill, unsure where his boldness comes from but wondering if it's driven by the same reason you're acting up.

bill hums, smirking to himself as he pulls a few more blackberries and drops them in a bowl. "oh sure, c'mon trashmouth. i was j-just joking."

“william.” richie snaps and you raise your brows, confused but loving what was happening. you're slightly thrown off - having forgotten that bill's full name was william, but also because of the sharpness and warning tone in richie's voice.

“what?” bill asks with a laugh, looking up from the damn fruit carton as he stares richie down. it almost feels like a challenge, the way your brother is staring at bill, and you feel left out in a way that you don't really know if you want to be let in.

it's slightly tense and you’re shocked - richie is the kind of fucker who laughs at suave shit like that, but the more you think about how protective he is of his friends, the sooner you roll your eyes.

"oh....kay. i'm gonna- i'm gonna go." you say awkwardly, biting your lip. you hide your grin as you slip out of the kitchen, meeting eyes with bill as he winks subtly at you while richie shakes his head with a frustrated glare down at the lighter in his hands. "y/n," richie calls as he follows you down the hall.

you turn right at the base of the stairs, a smirk on your face. "what?" you snap. he glares at you. "don't do that shit in front of my friends, that's so fucked."

you stare at him, trying your hardest not to smile. you wonder if bill can hear you. "what? we were just teasing you, richie. i can't help it if your friends all want to fuck me."

he runs his hand over his face, groaning, "can you be quiet? bill probably heard that. and don't fuckin' joke about that. if you touch one of my friends i'll kill you." he snaps. 

you shove him, completely floored that he could be so daft. "richie, you're still fucking my best friend! i hate you, why are you such an asshole?"

"whatever. stay away until we leave tonight." richie says as he turns to leave, holding up a middle finger as he stalks back towards the kitchen.

you didn't go back downstairs until you heard the others come in about forty five minutes later, spending most of your time getting ready and calming down after richie's stunt. you decided that tonight is the night you try and hit on bill. after grinning to yourself in the mirror and flattening your top against your chest, you make your way down from your room to find all of richie's friends lounging around the kitchen. of course, your eyes immediately find bill, who is still eating those damn blackberries. you chuckle.

"do you ever put those down?" you ask, causing him to pick up his head and chew slowly, grinning through a closed mouth as if he'd been caught red-handed. his eyes move up and down your figure and it makes your stomach flutter. he doesn't get the time to respond because richie's already herding everyone out the door. bev's winking at you, which makes your stomach flip, slinging an arm around your shoulder in greeting as you all file into stan's hatchback, mumbling about the girl's house whose party you're going to.

you spend the first two hours with bev and mike, playing pong and sipping casually on mixed drinks while you catch up with people you haven't seen since you graduated.

a while after, mike and bev start to play king’s cup. you opt out, instead deciding to go find some of the others. when you make your way to the kitchen, you find richie and stan taking body shots off of two girls you remember from your bio class junior year. 

the sting of jealousy you get from the girl as she cards her fingers through stan's curls instantly makes you sour, shoving richie as you grab a mike's hard lemonade and crack it open on the counter.

"what's wrong with you?" richie mumbles, wiping his mouth as the girls walk away. stan smirks as he leans on the counter, his cheeks red. god, you hate being so horny. where's bill?

your eyes linger over the crowd and richie, always the asshole, takes the opportunity you'd accidentally just presented to him. "you sad stan the man isn’t taking body shots off of you? you’re not really his type, sorry.” 

you gape at richie, feeling like you could murder him on the spot. you’re bright red, not daring to look at stan as he mutters, “richie, you’re a fucking asshole.” 

you glare at your brother. “just trying to find the best thing to kill you with. i want you dead.” 

"whatever, you don't need to be so sensitive." richie teases, craning his neck when somebody calls his name from the backyard. "sis, duty calls. catch you in a bit." he adds, his attention on your friend who'd just shown up and is waving richie over. the sight of her makes you roll your eyes at richie.

as the boys leave, stan nudges you, "don't listen to him, he just doesn’t like the idea of me liking you more than him. you're cute when you blush." he nudges your chin with his fingers and then laughs when you flush even more, turning and making his way through the crowd with a drunken goodbye.

jesus christ. 

now that you're alone, you want to scream. your eyes roll back as you rub your face with a short sigh. what the fuck were you thinking, getting involved with ben, bev, mike, and eddie? and now bill? plus, what’s stan up to, since when was he such a flirt? 

god, you're way over your head.

“a-are you okay?" the devil himself asks as he pads into the kitchen behind you, a smile on his face. great.

you sigh, shaking your head, "richie makes me so fucking mad sometimes." you say honestly, wary of talking shit about richie to his best friend. bill just nods, and you realize for a second you really let yourself think that richie's friends didn't know he was an asshole.

"you know,” bill smirks, “r-rich told me to stay away from you tonight.”  bill just takes three steps closer, oh so slow, and it unintentionally backs you against the counter.  your mouth goes dry, your body buzzing at the proximity.  slowly, bill places his hands next to you and leans on the counter.  “we should just get back at him to piss him off.” he mutters and your eyes widen, lips parting as you stare at him. "it's f-funny when he's mad."

your eyes bounce down to his lips, which are curled in a smirk and you breathe out shortly. "how do you suggest we do that?" you whisper, hands snaking around his shoulders and ignoring the pounding in your heart. he smirks, "d-don't know. what would piss him off the most?"

you grin, feigning innocence. "y'know... maybe if we just went into a room together right in front of him. he'd get somad." you say with a giggle. bill chuckles, turning back to see richie laughing loudly with your old friend by his side, telling some stupid story that was probably making everyone roll their eyes. "let's go, then." bill says, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the kitchen, your face burning already at how easy that just was.

you pass the group of people that richie's in, and bill sends you a look before he taps a kid next to richie on the shoulder, effectively grabbing richie's attention. "h-hey, can you hold onto this drink? just for a bit?" bill says, handing him his cup. you follow bill's lead, handing your drink to your friend and asking her to hold onto it. "we'll be back in a bit." you say, sending her a wink and making richie furrow his brows.

you see his eyes follow you as bill grabs your hand and pulls you towards the closest room, his hand falling to your back as he ushers you into the room. as the door closes, you let out a bit of a laugh, shaking your head. you sit on the ground in the empty bedroom and bill follows, his knees grazing yours and making your stomach flip embarrasingly. he pulls out a deck of cards. "w-want to play something while we w-wait?"

you snort, realizing if you want to make richie suspicious you should at least stay in here for a bit. and it's not like you're complaining that you have to spend time alone with bill denbrough. "you want to play war?" you ask, looking at bill.

he nods and starts shuffling, handing you half the deck. "he's going to kill me." you mumble with a slight laugh. bill sends you a look. "he's going to kill m-me, not you." he says, shaking his head.

you laugh, "no, he's going to be furious. he's a bit hypocritical, he doesn't want me to have sex with you, let alone be nearyou, but he's probably going to take home my best friend again tonight."

bill hums, and that's when you realize how blunt you'd just been.

"he just d-doesn't like it when people have fun." bill says, lifting a brow as his voice goes lower. you turn slightly red as you make eye contact. "and it sounds like he kind of deserves it, anyways. i think if we had sex it would be a win-win."

you blink because wow, bill is much smoother than you expected. you look at him, his dark auburn brows rising above his half life eyes, which are trained on your lips. "then what's stopping us?" you say in a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

and just like that's you're kissing bill.

his lips are chapped and warm, strong against you as he pulls you closer by your neck. he smells amazing, and you surge up against him with a small sigh when his tongue brushes along your bottom lip. you're about to move over and straddle him, but a noise makes you pull away.

"out of the way!" you hear your brother's voice distinctly call muffled from behind the door and you jerk away from bill suddenly. he chuckles at you and you both pull yourselves together just as the door bursts open, richie standing at the doorway. you blink up at him with a smirk, the deck of cards in your hand as bill asks him innocently, "what's up, r-rich?"

"what the hell are you doing in here?" he snaps, looking between you with angry eyes. you snort, "we were going to play war. is that okay, dad?" you spit sarcastically. richie rolls his eyes, "get out. we're leaving anyways."

and he turns, leaving the door wide open as he tries to grab mike's attention. you meet bill's eyes and you both laugh awkwardly after having been interrupted, ignoring the red on your cheeks as you make your way towards the front of the house to meet up with the others.

richie acts like a toddler for the ride home, the streets at one in the morning empty as you all sing along terribly to the music stan plays. he's pouting and sending you and bill death glares from where the two of you sit in the trunk of the car, making you smirk to bill when richie looks away.

but after you've all gone to bed, you toss and turn in your room by yourself, unable to get bill off your mind. his lips, his hands on your neck and waist... after thirty minutes of debating, you finally pull yourself up and creep out of your room to find him in the basement with the others. you're not sure what your plan is, but luckily you don't have to finish it because you nearly run into him five steps away from your bedroom door.

"oh!" you say, jumping a bit in the dim lighting. "y/n." he says, looking surprised and guilty. "what're you doing up?" you say, letting out a breath as your heart rate jumps.

"can't sleep." bill explains, green eyes boring into yours. you hum, nodding and ignoring the blatant lie bill just told, ignoring that he's walked up two flights of stairs towards your room just because he 'can't sleep.'

it makes you grin. "well, i still have that deck of cards we were using earlier." you say, sending him a look as you gesture slightly to your bedroom behind you. bill smirks, "we n-never did get to play that round of war, did we?" he says with a charming smile.

it's mostly quiet as you set up the deck, the tension of being alone together in the middle of the night in your bedroom making you seem like you're doing something you're not supposed to. it makes you feel warm as you start playing, the first time you draw the same card giving you a good idea.

after you flip your fourth card down and see you lost, you let out a sigh. "fuck." you whisper, reaching and pulling your top off. you toss it to the ground next to where you and bill sit and then you dare to look at him.

his eyes are wide, cheeks flushed as he stares at your chest, your skin glowing against the fabric of your bra. "fuck." he nearly moans, and the noise makes you instantly clench your thighs. "these rules are n-not the ones my parents taught me." he says with a swallow. you laugh a bit, shifting as your heart pounds. "i like this version much better." he whispers.

the next time you both draw the same card, he loses, and he smirks, pulling his own shirt off. it makes you turn red because yeah, you forgot he and stan are on the baseball team and you did not expect him to be this fit. you lick your lips, pulling your eyes off his bare skin and clearing your throat. it's silent in the room, the sexual tension almost killing you.

as you both draw a matching card next time, you're about to scream from the intensity. you lose and try to hide your smirk as you pull your shorts off your legs, going onto your knees and grinning at bill. he groans lowly, biting his lip and making you impossibly more wet.

"i don't know how long this game's gonna be, y/n." he says lowly, his eyes glued to your frame. you lick your lips, shrugging as you move to crawl toward him, "we can just say i win, then." you whisper, throwing a leg around his hips and settling into his lap.

"well why can't i win?" he asks as his hands course over your bare skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. he's grinning softly, eyes stuck on your lips with an enticing look. you melt as you lean forward, "you'll have to work for it." you whisper against his lips, kissing him.

his hand slides from your hip up to your jaw, his thumb caressing your chin softly as he presses against you. "f-fuck, y/n." he mutters against your lips as you pull back, moving your hips softly down against him and feeling his cock twitch below you. you let out a small moan into his ear as you balance your forehead on his shoulder, your fingers roaming over his chest.

he's biting softly into your neck minutes later, making you whimper as his thumb sneaks down to rub circles against your clit slowly. you palm him lightly and his head falls against the mattress, letting out a moan. you kiss him as your hand moves, squeezing him lightly and loving his stuttering breath on your skin.

you pull yourself off of him and sneak between his legs, laying down so he has a perfect view of your ass as you mouth over his boxers. you tease his cock with your mouth before you mumble, "can i taste you?"

"y-yeah, fuck yes." he breathes out, and if it weren't for your aching need to make him feel good, you might have huffed at how needy he sounded. you pull him out of his boxers and toss the underwear to the side, watching as his cock springs up to hit his stomach.

"sh-shit," he whimpers as you grin, leading your mouth down to press hot, open mouth kisses down his shaft.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays hard against your palm. you lick your lips, leaning towards him and keeping your eyes on his.

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take him into your mouth slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in as you can. he's bigger than anyone you've been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

he lets out a choked moan as you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag. you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him. you know he’s already close and you smirk when you hear him moan swears under his breath. he's whimpering, his cheeks rosy as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. he's putty in your hands, and it makes your stomach flutter.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s writhing under your touch. he groans, one hand digging into the carpet, the other resting in your hair, his chest rising and falling shakily.

bill sits up, his eyes dark and lip caught between his lip as he watches you. “i see you touching yourself." he mutters, and your hand slowly stops rubbing your clit, your mouth stilling until he's deep in your mouth and you look up at him. "a-are you going to let me fuck you?” he says, his demeanor changing so quickly you swear you can't breathe. you turn red as you pull your mouth off his cock, a string of spit falling down your chin. he catches it with his thumb and then slips his thumb into your mouth.

"i just want to make you feel good." he says as your tongue swirls eagerly over his thumb. as he pulls it out you nod, trying to find the words to regain the authority that you'd just lost. "such a pretty girl." he mutters as he rubs your cheeks with his hands.

"please," you say, feeling desperate. "please fuck me."

he moans at that, eyes rolling a bit as he nudges you so you're laying back on your carpet. he's above you then, kissing you deeply as his hand slowly trails from your knee and up slowly towards your neglected pussy, his fingers stopping to rub your clothed folds. you let out a small moan as his fingers move, your toes curling. "so wet." he says quietly as he looks at you, watching your reactions to see what you like. it gives you butterflies.

but you suddenly can’t think of anything besides bill, because he’s slipping a finger inside your heat slowly and you're gasping, eyes clenching in pleasure.

he's building a rhythm with his fingers and you know that if anyone is awake in the house besides you, they’d know exactly what was happening in your room currently. you can’t find it to care as you look up at bill, staring back at you with swollen lips and a smirk, his fingers making you grip his hair in ecstasy.

your moans pick up in pitch and you clench around his fingers tightly as his thumb starts to rub your clit, the feeling of bliss having never felt this strong before. your toes curl and you let out whimpers, one hand tangling in his lush hair and the other holding your breast. his head dips down, lips attaching to the other nipple and swirling, making you arch your back.

his fingers pick up pace, curling and pumping in and out of you as he leaves light hickeys all around your breasts. the thought of bill denbrough marking you up for everyone, including your brother and all the other losers to see pushes you closer to the edge.

“bill, fuck, i’m close-“ you start, groaning in pleasure as he smirks slightly. you whimper when he pulls back, a devious smirk playing on his lips, his fingers sliding out of your heat. you moan at the sight of him, shirtless and hair missed up from your fingers, his mouth sinful.

he reaches his hand up to you and obediently you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking and licking up yourself from him. he watches with his mouth slightly open and eyes dark, pumping himself in his other hand. "fuck." he mutters as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, staring down at you. "you sure you want to?" he asks, lips close to yours. you nod, "please, bill, need it so bad." you say, hands rising to his shoulders.

he says nothing then, instead lining up at your entrance and teasing your swollen clit with his head. he's kissing up and down your throat and you let out a whimper, gripping his bare shoulders. and then he pushes into you slowly, his teeth grazing your neck. the sudden stretch fills you to the brim and you let out a guttural noise at the feeling. your back rubs uncomfortably against the carpet as he pushes into you, but your hands grip his shoulders tighter and all you can think about is bill.

“fuck, bill.” you mumble, moaning his name as he starts thrusting, building his pace slowly as you adjust to his size. "harder." you barely get out, whimpering as his hands grip your hips, and then he’s snapping his hips into yours.

“fuck, you're perfect.” his hands grip you, holding your legs open as your eyes roll back slightly, “look at you, f-fuck.” he pounds you into the carpet, his lips then falling to suck large marks on your neck, the stinging pleasure of your bare back on the carpet adding to the pleasure of bill tearing you apart.

his hips still snap into you deeply, his arm slipping under your back to prop you up slightly, making him hit your g-spot and making you let out a loud moan. you feel him so deep inside of you that tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure building instantly. "so pretty." he says against your neck.

you keen loudly, back arching as you yelp his name. he pulls back to look at you, hand tugging on your hair so you look at him as he pounds into you. “look at you.” his voice is deep and rough and then he's pressing a kiss to your temple as he fills deep inside you, the feeling overwhelming as your orgasm creeps up again.

your fingers scratch down his bare back, making him hiss and hum slightly, gripping your hips and lifting you slightly. after a few more thrusts, he pulls out and is flipping you quickly to your hands and knees, hand pressing gently on your back so you arch it. "shit." he hisses under his breath as he eases back into you, the new angle has you biting your hand, his cock pressing deep inside you from the pace of his hips. his lips pepper over the raw skin of your back, red and sensitive from rubbing against your carpet so hard.

and he nudges your head as he thrusts into you, tilting your jaw so he kisses you. his lips are against yours like he’s claiming you, his teeth clashing slightly with yours and his tongue dominating. you’re weak, legs shaking as he pounds into you.

you moan, your stomach clenching in ecstasy as you moan out his name, coming closer with each harsh thrust, “bill, fuck, im gonna cum,” you whimper. at your words, he pulls out of you and flips you again, so you're back on your back, this time lifting one of your legs and pushing into you quickly. your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh.

“wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down. you whimper, face red from the pleasure of his words. he's slamming into you, your back rubbing hard against the ground and his eyes admiring the smudged makeup of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

his thumb rubs circles on your cllit and as he presses lightly, you can't hold off any longer. "bill, fuck!" you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. "so pretty." he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back.

"fuck, b-babe, 'm gonna cum." he mutters as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips as he thrusts one last time into you, pulling out. you quickly move as he rises to his knees, opening your mouth as his fingers squeeze your jaw.

he's pumping himself as his cheeks redden, chest rising and falling quickly. "y/n, fuck." he mutters he as he cums, spilling onto your tongue as you look up at him.

beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he spills into your mouth, his cock laying heavy on your tongue.

you look up at him with wide eyes as he sighs, falling back down next to you. "j-jesus." he mutters, and you laugh, kissing his cheeks and then his lips.

"th-that'll piss richie off." bill says breathlessly. you laugh lightly - if only he knew.

© all content belongs to soulwillower 2020. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @thegaytheatrekid  @ruefulposts

[platedgolds]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎.

hi,   friends   !   i’m   admin   fox   (   23.   she/they.   brt.   )   and   i’m   so   excited   to   get   this   going   !   it’s   been   a   wild   journey   to   make   this   group   happen   but   everyone   seems   so   nice   and   all   of   your   muses   are   so   interesting   it’s   def   all   worth   it   !   this   is   romeo   dubois,   my   himbo   baby   and   all   around   hot   mess.   if   you’d   like   to   plot   with   him,   please   feel   free   to   message   me   on   discord   at   pedro pascal stan blog#9349   or   send   me   your   discord   @   and   i’ll   message   you   there   !

*                     SEBASTIAN   STAN   +   CIS   MALE   +   HE/HIM   ——   have   you   seen   ROMEO   DUBOIS   around?   they’re   a   THIRTY-SIX   year   old   PHYSICAL   EDUCATION   TEACHER   known   around   town   as   the   LOOSE   CANON.   not   only   are   they   broke   af,   but   they’ve   been   in   town   for   SIX   YEARS.   they’re   LOYAL   +   LAID-BACK,   as   well   as   CHILDISH   +   UNHINGED,   but   what   else   would   you   expect   from   an   ARIES?   low-hanging   grey   sweatpants.   back   muscles.   a   beer   bottled   tucked   on   the   back   pocket   of   a   pair   of   jeans.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

romeo   was   born   in   eldora   to   two   very   absent   parents;   they   were   one   of   the   few   middle   class   families   in   town,   with   his   mother   always   traveling   for   work   and   his   father   at   home,   drowning   himself   in   alcohol.   from   an   early   age,   romeo   was   left   to   his   own   devices;   he   was   the   one   who   raised   his   brother   even   though   he   was   still   just   a   child   himself   when   cain   was   born,   with   no   skill   or   mental   capacity   to   take   care   of   himself   let   alone   an   infant. 

his   parents’   marriage   was   in   shambles;   the   whole   town   often   spoke   about   how   unfaithful   mrs.   dubois   was,   and   how   her   husband   only   stood   by   her   side   because   of   the   money   she   made.   romeo   was   too   young   to   understand   what   ‘cheating’   meant   when   the   rumors   first   started,   but   he   still   got   into   plenty   of   fights   by   the   time   he   entered   his   teens   and   the   infamy   of   his   mother’s   choices   were   echoed   throughout   high   school   bleachers

it   didn’t   take   long   before   people   started   recognizing   romeo   as   one   of   the   trouble   makers   in   town;   his   anger   against   his   parents   and   the   horrible   situation   they   forced   upon   him   made   its   way   out   of   his   chest   with   the   blink   of   an   eye,   lashing   out   at   everyone   and   anyone   he   could.   in   the   height   of   his   teenagehood,   romeo   knew   the   name   of   every   single   cop   in   eldora’s   precinct.   he   got   into   so   many   fights   it   was   hard   to   see   romeo   without   a   bruise   on   his   face,   got   drunk   and   wrecked   his   car   more   times   than   anyone   could   ever   count,   and   he   even   spent   a   few   nights   in   a   cell   after   a   particular   incident   involving   the   break   in   of   several   homes   around   town.   still,   people   pitied   the   kid,   and   many   would   leave   him   off   the   hook   no   matter   what   kind   of   bad   trouble   he   got   into.

despite   his   bad   manners   and   constant   anger,   romeo   excelled   in   sports.   more   specifically   ice   hockey,   which   he   had   to   take   a   bus   three   towns   over   to   be   able   to   practice   every   week;   he   loved   the   freedom   of   the   skates,   and   he   was   large   and   violent   enough   to   be   unstoppable   in   the   rink.   his   prowess   caught   the   eye   of   many,   and   by   the   time   romeo   was   legal   to   drink   he   was   shoved   in   an   airplane   and   taken   to   canada   where   he   could   practice   and   properly   excel   in   his   craft.

by   the   age   of   twenty-three,   romeo   was   back   in   the   united   states   playing   for   the   jersey   devils,   a   team   he   wasn’t   too   proud   of,   but   it   paid   the   bills   and   it   brought   him   the   notoriety   he   felt   like   he   truly   deserved.

by   the   age   of   twenty-seven,   romeo   dubois   was   captain   of   the   chicago   blackhawks   and   making   more   money   than   he   could   ever   know   what   to   do   with   it.   twenty-seven   was   also   the   year   he   got   married   to   the   victoria’s   secret   angel   he’d   met   just   eight   months   prior;   anyone   that   has   ever   met   romeo   will   say   he   peaked   in   his   late   20s,   though   he   would   say   they   were   the   most   miserable   years   he’s   ever   had.

it   all   came   crumbling   down   on   his   29th   birthday,   when   romeo   was   arrested   in   chicago   for   a   car   accident   that   nearly   took   the   life   of   a   young   mother;   he   had   two   male   escorts   and   over   a   pound   of   cocaine   in   his   car,   and   even   though   his   lawyers   managed   to   bribe   his   way   into   a   short   six   months   prison   sentence,   the   media   wasn’t   so   kind.   romeo   lost   his   job,   lost   his   reputation   and   managed   to   lose   every   single   penny   he   had   once   his   wife   divorced   him.

once   romeo   was   out   of   jail,   he   had   no   place   to   go   other   than   eldora.   he’s   been   back   into   town   for   six   years,   working   as   a   p.e.   teacher   at   the   local   high   school   solely   because   the   principal   was   a   family   friend   that   pulled   many   strings   to   get   him   the   position.   he   currently   lives   in   the   dingy   motel   in   the   outskirts   of   town,   spending   most   of   his   time   drunk   and   high---   and   for   a   man   who   swore   he’d   never   be   like   his   father,   romeo’s   had   never   been   more   wrong. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

literal   himbo.   that’s   it,   that’s   his   personality.   hot   &   stupid,   absolutely   joey   tribbiani   kinda   guy--   you   know,   if   joey   was   an   asshole   and   not   the   absolute   sweetheart   he   is.

v   selfish,   will   do   whatever   it   takes   to   make   sure   he   comes   out   on   top   of   every   situation.   still,   if   he   thinks   someone   is   worthy   of   his   loyalty,   he’ll   stick   by   them   no   matter   what.

big   liar.   seriously.   has   no   qualms   about   making   shit   up   on   the   spot   so   that   his   narrative   is   the   one   being   told;   damn   good   actor,   too.

big   hoe   (   it   runs   in   the   family,   the   bad   tongues   would   say.   ),   will   sleep   with   anyone   as   long   as   they’re   paying   attention   to   him   for   long   enough.

he   was   in   the   closet   his   entire   career,   and   now   that   he’s   been   shoved   out   of   it   romeo   has   no   intention   of   going   back---   calls   himself   gay   as   hell   way   too   much   for   someone   who’s   actually   bi.

6′3,   broad   shoulders   and   still   with   an   athletic   build   even   if   he   doesn’t   play   anymore;   romeo’s   far   too   shallow   to   let   himself   go,   even   if   working   out   nowadays   kills   a   little   bit   of   his   soul   every   time.

covered   in   tattoos,   with   a   well   trimmed   beard   and   hair   styled   perfectly   so   that   it   looks   messy   enough;   romeo   has   the   ‘i   look   like   i   just   woke   up   and   yet   it   took   me   three   hours   to   get   ready’   nonchalant   look   down   to   the   t.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

a   party   friend   ---   romeo’s   only   likable   when   he’s   drunk;   thankfully,   that   seems   to   be   the   case   most   of   the   time.   this   person   only   comes   around   when   they   want   to   get   drunk   or   high,   and   of   course   romeo’s   always   ready   to   take   it   up   a   notch.

a   best   friend   ---   they   are   always   on   each   other’s   corner;      this   is   someone   that   sees   romeo   for   who   he   really   is   instead   of   the   bad   guy   façade   he   wears,   and   loves   him   despite   his   flaws;   maybe   they   even   lived   together   for   a   while   when   romeo   first   came   back   into   town?   could   be   a   childhood   friendship   or   something   new.

a   protege   ---   for   one   reason   or   another,   romeo   has   deemed   this   person   worthy   of   caring   for   and   protecting   with   his   life.   like   a   momma   bear,   except   you’re   not   a   bear   cub   and   he   certainly   doesn’t   know   how   to   care   for   anyone.   could   be   funny   if   this   was   clearly   someone   that   doesn’t   need   protecting.

a   one   night   stand   ---   like   a   said,   big   hoe.   maybe   romeo   and   this   person   that   a   night   together   (   or   more   than   one   )   and   he   simply   never   called   back   ?   probably   doesn’t   even   remember   about   it,   acts   as   if   it   never   happened;   could   be   fun   if   they   had   been   friends   beforehand.

an   ex   ---   they   were   pretty   serious   at   one   point,   maybe   even   lived   together   ?   and   then   romeo   fucked   things   up;   it   was   definitely   a   self-sabotaging   thing,   where   he   felt   like   he   was   too   close   to   happiness   and   subconsciously   couldn’t   allow   himself   such   a   thing.   maybe   he   cheated,   or   maybe   he   started   picking   fights   for   every   single   small   thing,   or   hell,   maybe   he   even   started   ghosting   them   and   spending   the   nights   away   from   home.   whatever   he   needed   to   do   to   get   them   to   break   up   with   him.

a   hate   fuck   ---   they   hate   each   other,   but   they   can’t   keep   their   clothes   on   around   each   other   either;   every   argument   ends   up   in   heated   sex,   and   at   this   point   they   aren’t   sure   if   they’re   fighting   because   they   can’t   stand   the   other,   or   if   they’re   doing   it   because   they   know   where   it’ll   end. 

a   fan   ---   someone   that   knew   him   from   his   time   as   a   hockey   player   !   romeo   def   feels   very   uncomfortable   around   them,   a   constant   reminder   of   the   good   life   he’s   lost.

friends   of   all   kinds   ---   romeo’s   a   social   butterfly   on   his   good   days,   so   give   him   all   sorts   of   friends   !   co-workers,   old   friends,   some   new.   anything   !

[trashmouth-tozier89]

Welcome to the Loser’s Club Asshole! - Ch.1 | ONE

Warnings: swearing, one homophobic slur (Bowers)

Word Count: 4,084

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

A/N - the first official chapter of the first series on my page! oof, this is gonna be a ride. please know this is basically my interpretation of the two recent adaptations of IT that have come out, and so the cast of this exactly the same, with you as Y/N! I hope you enjoy this, and my interpretation of the film! 

If you wish to be added to the taglist, send in an ask or pop it in the comments! :)

Welcome to the Loser’s Club Asshole Masterlist 

Being the new girl was certainly the worst.

Y/N’s mum had decided her family needed a big change, and she assumed this would mean something like refurbishing the living room or getting a family pet, not moving to a completely different town on the opposite side of Maine. She had begged and pleaded, took every chance she could to convince her against the decision, but before she knew it, the house was bought and she was packing her bedroom into measly cardboard boxes.

Being a stickler for organisation, she had split everything she owned into 4 categories; clothing, books, cassette tapes and others. As she slipped her final book into the box labelled books, she sighed in relief; glad she was finally finished and could take a rest. It’s not like she owned much anyway, but she didn’t exactly like doing something which she didn’t want to do. Packing up her stuff meant that this was final, it was happening and nothing would change it.

Moving to a new city meant moving away from the place she called home; her friends, other family; she even considered the possibility that she’d miss the bullies at her school. She wasn’t exactly the most confident and outspoken person, so she wasn’t sure how easy it would be to make new friends. Especially considering the school her mum had enrolled her at, Derry High School, had taken one look at her grades and placed her in all the higher set classes. If she were to make friends, they would probably end up being nerds who were the pit of all jokes at the school. It’s not like she had any way of keeping in touch with her friends back home either; she wasn’t sure if her new house would have a telephone, and even if it did, catching up on the phone every night was not the idea of fun she had pictured for her summer holiday. She was utterly doomed to spend your summer indoors, alone, doing art to pass the time.

She lay back on the mattress that was once her bed, which annoyingly had no bedding on but it was better than nothing, and flipped to an empty page in her sketchbook, the pencil meeting the paper within seconds. She didn’t even have to think about what she was drawing, for the inspiration simply came without effort. Halfway through drawing, her mother barged into the bedroom, looking around to check she had completed what she had asked. Y/N could tell she was stressed, her decision quickly backfiring when she realised how much there was to do; the two were meant to be leaving for Derry tonight, and the moving truck was yet to arrive.

“Is it still not here yet?” Y/N questioned, looking to her mother’s worried expression and matching it. She nodded, shaking her head softly and sighing loudly. This really was taking a toll on her. “Is everything else packed up?”

It was just the 2 of them living in the house, though not for much longer. Y/N’s father had been out of the picture for about a year now, passing away after a terrible accident in one of the quarries across town, and it had taken a damaging toll on the whole family. Her mother had been feeling down for months, and she considered that this was probably the reason she wanted to move; the memory of her husband was bound to this town and if she were to move, maybe she could escape the pain. Y/N couldn’t deny, that really was the only reason she was happy to leave this town too, and so she went with her decisions with at least a little support.

“Thankfully it is. We are just waiting for the truck and then we can leave. I’d be happy to set off now, but I don’t know how I feel leaving all our stuff in the house by itself.” She explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed and resting her head in her hands. Like a miracle, the truck pulled in as soon as she finished her sentence, and Y/N could see the glee on her face when the middle-aged man from outside shouted “Is this the L/N residence” from the drive. She stuck her head out the window with a big grin, nodding yes and explaining she’d ‘be down in just a second’. It had all begun to set in; they really were moving, and they probably wouldn’t ever be coming back.

Making her way down, Y/N’s mother was in conversation with the truck driver, whilst other men rushed past her to grab all the furniture and boxes from inside the house. She only heard small snippets of her conversation, before sitting down in the car and closing the door. She didn’t want the big goodbyes and sadness; she wanted to get it over and done with before the emotions began to sit in. Thankfully, her friends had already said goodbye to her the day before; once she had left, she would be en route to Derry, no stops.

***

The new house was nice. It was nothing compared to her old one, but it was manageable. Y/N had her own room, and she could definitely fit all her furniture into it without too much of a squeeze. It just felt... strange. The whole town felt strange. Off. Like something wasn’t right.

Nevertheless, she lived here now and she wasn’t going to complain, because it would only upset her mother more and she didn’t want that to happen. Today was supposed to be Y/N’s first day at school, which she saw as extremely pointless considering the fact it was also the last day at school before summer. Her mother hadn’t picked the most opportune time to move house, but she wanted Y/N to at least get one or two friends before going into the summer, so she had someone to spend the time with. She understood the reasoning, she just didn’t exactly agree.

Especially considering she was 5 periods into the school day and yet to make any friends. Everyone either sent her a glance of disgust or confusion, questioning who she was and why the fuck she was even here. She peeked at her timetable to see her last lesson was easily the worst, Math. Being in the higher set didn’t make it much easier either. Apparently, the smart kids of Derry were much smarter than the smart kids of her hometown. Walking into the classroom, she recognised everyone from your previous classes, except one boy who sat right at the back of the class. His head was leant down, focused on a book, but she knew she didn’t know him based on the fact she hadn’t seen anyone with the same curly hair and blue shirt.  Due to the fact the only empty seat happened to be next to the boy, she made her way over.

“I-uh, is this seat taken?” Y/N asked, pointing to the vacant seat with a grin on her face. His head shot up at the sound of a girl’s voice, shaking his head slightly to indicate it wasn’t before looking back at his book. She sat herself down, pulling the math textbook out of her extremely light backpack and turned to face the boy. He seemed nice enough, and she thought she ought to begin making friends; at least then she could say she tried. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, it’s a book about birds.” He mumbled, almost like he didn’t want to be talking to her, but she wouldn’t let that put her off.

“Have you ever been birdwatching? I love to just sit in my back garden and watch them, sometimes I get my sketchbook out and draw them” she smiled at the thought, memories of her and her father sat in the garden with binoculars that were too big for her face hanging around her neck as he pointed out what each one was. Birdwatching soon became one of her favourite activities. That was the benefit of living near trees, and thankfully her new house also had that.

“Wait, you actually like birdwatching? I love it; b-but all my friends think it’s stupid!” He perked up, shocked to have found someone else with the same passion. She knew she was going to get along quite well with the boy, or she hoped at least. “I’m Stanley Uris, but you can call me Stan. That’s what my friends call me”

“I’m Y/N L/N. Hopefully we can birdwatch together sometime soon.”

“I-I’d like that” he grinned, cheeks blushing red at the idea of a pretty girl like her wanting to spend time with a boy like him. Her first official friend – Stanley Uris. Stan Uris. The boy from math class.

Maybe her summer wouldn’t be as lonely as she anticipated.

***

As the final bell of the day rang, the children of Derry High School spewed into the hallways, cheers and laughter filling what was previously silence. A collection of 3 boys rushed out of once classroom, carrying on down the corridor together; anyone around them could see very clearly that they were best of friends just from the way they interacted.

“So there’s like this church full of Jews right? And Stan has to take like this super Jew-y test” Eddie Kaspbrak, the smaller one of the 3, explained. The boy had a fanny pack tightly strapped around his waist, containing who knows what, and his backpack hanging over his shoulders. Some may have considered the extra accessory unnecessary for a school day, but they did not know Eddie and his hypochondriac personality well enough to make a judgement.

“But how’s it work?” Bill Denborough questioned; Bill was largely considered the leader of the pack due to his optimistic personality and valiance, also the fact that he was the tallest of the 3 gave him a slight advantage. Though, everyone has noticed the way Bill had been acting a lot more removed, and they immediately credited it to the fact Georgie, Bill’s younger brother, had gone missing only months earlier. No one dared to bring it up to the poor boy though.

“They slice the tip of his dick off!” Eddie pointed out, with a little too much enthusiasm. Bill pulled a face, as if to say Eddie was crazy, but the third boy simply scrunched his eyebrows together in a frown.

“But then Stan’ll have nothing left!” Richie Tozier, the final of the three, joked. Richie was the clown of the group, or as they liked to call him, the ‘trashmouth’. Mainly due to the amount of rubbish and vulgar words that came out of his mouth almost every second of every day. Richie couldn’t help it, it was his personality, but most people who met his for the first time didn’t expect such crude things due to the way he looked; the lens of his glasses were so thick, they made his eyes appear 5x bigger than they really were, meaning Richie was able to get away with a lot of the wreck he havocked.

“That’s true” Eddie started, before being interrupted from the touch of a hand grabbing his shoulder, and a familiar voice shouting “Wait up, you guys!” from behind him. The 3 turned to face Stanley, who had made his way out of maths a little late because he wanted to give Y/N his telephone number and address. That way, they would be able to birdwatch together.

“Hey Stan, what happens at the bar mitzvah anyways? Ed says they slice the tip of your d-d-d-dick off” Bill stuttered out, another stand out feature about the young boy. Bill had sported a stutter since he was a young child, which had earned him the nickname ‘Stuttering Bill’ from everyone at school. He hated the nickname, and he didn’t necessarily like his stutter either, but it had been getting better as time went on.

“Yeah, and I think the Rabbi’s gonna pull down your pants, turn to the crowd and say ‘Where’s the beef?” Richie exclaims, earning a small chuckle from the other two, while Stan simply stayed straight faced.

“At the bar mitzvah, I read from the Torah” Stan began, earning the attention from the other boys, “And then I make a speech, and suddenly I become a man”

The explanation seemed enough for Eddie and Bill, but of course, Richie slipped in one more joke with “I could think of funner ways to become a man”. That was before locking eyes with a group of boys, obviously older, who went by the name of the Bower’s gang; there was Patrick Hockstetter, a tall quite lanky boy, with black shady hair; Belch Huggins, overweight enough so that his belly always hung slightly over his belt, a baseball cap on his head and a grin of mischief on his face; Victor Criss, rather tall and thin like Patrick, but with hair as light as his pasty skin; and lastly, Henry Bowers. Sporting a brown mullet, wearing a t-shirt and a look of disgust on his face, Henry was the worst of them all.  Even the name, Henry Bowers, struck fear in almost every student at Derry High. It was common knowledge; do not cross Henry Bowers or any of his goons. Unless you have a death wish, that is.

Richie had been so distracted by the gang, he barely noticed when Stan corrected his grammar; “More fun, you mean”

The Bower’s gang stared at the smaller group as they passed by, Patrick licking his lips at Richie as if he was fresh meat. It is obvious from the boys faces they were frightened, Eddie even double-taking once or twice to ensure they weren’t following. Richie piped up, noticing how the group had been rendered silent; “Think they’ll sign my yearbook? ‘Dear Richie, sorry for taking a hot, steaming dump in your backpack last March, have a good summer!”

Eddie and Bill chuckled at the memory of Richie’s disgusted face having discovered Bowers had, in fact, taken a shit in his backpack without him knowing. Richie had learnt from that point that whenever the gang were in the toilets, it wasn’t a smart idea to also go in. And make a joke which is bound to aggravate them. Stan, however, was too preoccupied by Greta Keene who had knocked into his shoulder whilst barging towards the toilet at a speed that was simply unneeded for a school corridor. Greta was also a bit of a bully, but mostly to the girls of the school, considering she thought she was superior to them all. With the attitude of a stuck up brat, Greta was despised by the group of boys too. This was understandable.

 ***

“Best feeling ever” Stan grinned, as the 4 boys dumped everything and anything they could out of their backpacks and into the bins in front of the school. It was extremely relieving for them, knowing school was finally over.

“Oh yeah? Try tickling your pickle for the first time” Richie quipped, earning nothing but eye rolls and sniggers from the rest. Thankfully, Eddie was changing the subject before Richie could continue.

“Hey, what do you guys wanna do tomorrow?”

“I start my training” Richie explained, as if it was the most obvious thing that could’ve been said. This confused Eddie, and the remaining boys, as he questioned “Wha-what training?”

“Street Fighter” Richie answered, referring to the video game in the arcade Richie had practically dedicated his life to complete.

“Is that how you wanna spend your summer? Inside of an arcade” Eddie grimaced at the idea; he never understood the appeal of gaming, or the arcade for that matter, whereas Richie was the exact opposite. Richie looked at Eddie with a disappointed look on his face, huffing lightly.

“Beats spending it inside of your mother!” Richie exclaimed, chuckling at his own joke as he lifted his hand to high five Stan with an ‘Oh!’, only for his arm to be pulled down by Stan, who wasn’t joining in on any of Richie’s jokes, and instead making a more reasonable suggestion; “What if we go to the quarry?”

Eddie seemed on board with the idea, Richie too, but Bill was quick to remind them; “Guys, we have the b-b-b-Barrens”

“Right” Stan responded, understanding that going to the Barrens meant spending the day searching for Georgie.

“Betty Ripsom’s mom…” Eddie mumbled, changing the subject once again, as he spotted the woman stood next to a police car. She was looking around at all the children, searching for her daughter, who had also gone missing month before.

“Is she really expecting to see her come out of school?” Stan muttered, feeling a pang of guilt as he noticed the distraught expression on the woman’s face.

“I don’t know” Eddie answered, “As if Betty Ripsom’s been hiding in Home Ec. for the last few weeks”

“You think they’ll actually find her?” Stan asked again, eyes still pinned solely on the woman.

“Sure. In a ditch, all decomposed, covered in worms and maggots, smelling like Eddie’s mom’s underwear” Richie retorted, almost with a lack of humour to it.

“Shut up! That’s freaking disgusting” Eddie complains, the fact his mother is the pit of another one of Richie’s jokes getting on his nerves.

“Sh-she’s not dead. She’s m-m-m-m-missing” Bill insisted, turning back to Richie with a saddened look in his eye. The boy’s hearts dropped at the realisation of what they were talking about, and how sensitive it was for Bill. If Betty was dead, that meant Georgie probably was too, and Bill wasn’t ready to accept that.

Richie adjusted his glasses slightly, apologising quickly; “Sorry Bill. She’s missing.”

Bill turned to walk away from the bins and towards their bikes, with the others following behind – “You know the Barrens aren’t that bad. Who doesn’t love splashing around in shitty water?” Richie barely got out before a hand had grabbed onto the straps of his backpack and flung him backwards, sending him tumbling into Stanley. As they fell to the grass, Stanley’s kippah slipped off his head. Patrick noticed this, and grabbed the head cover before Stanley could stop him; “Nice Frisbee, flamer” Patrick mocked

“Give it back” Stan insisted, but Patrick had flung the small hat into a passing bus and shouted “Fucking losers” before Stan could grab it out his hand.

Belch approached an unsuspecting Eddie from behind, burping loudly into his ear. This caused Eddie to gag and run to the over side of Bill to get away from the boy. Bill, however, escaped any ridicule apart from a nudge from Henry as he passed by, mumbling “Loser” not so discreetly.

All the meanwhile, Y/N was stood at top of the path leading down to where the confrontation could be seen happening. She had been walking out of the building to head home, glad the day was finally over, before she witnessed the boy from math class being pushed over and bullied by the group of boys she didn’t even know. She usually would’ve left this kind of confrontation alone, but considering Stanley was the only friend she had managed to make yet, she kind of owed it to him. She rushed over to Stan’s side, helping him up off the ground, him mumbling a small ‘thank you’ in response. She watched as the bullies began to walk away, but she wasn’t going to let that happen; who were they to treat her friend like shit?

“What is your problem?” she shouted, capturing the attention of the rest of the Loser’s, but more importantly the Bower’s gang. They stopped in their tracks, turning back with a look of surprise on their face; surprise that someone would have the audacity to stand up to them. She couldn’t help but take a step back, feeling intimidated by the older boys, but that didn’t stop the girl from standing her ground with confidence.

“What did you say?” Henry scoffed.

“I said, what is your problem – need I repeat that again? Maybe a little slower so you and your pee brain friends can understand it a bit better this time?” she retorted, not letting the pit of fear she felt bubbling in her stomach show. Eddie, Richie, Stan and Bill cowered behind her, looking at each other in shock that this random girl was standing up to the school bullies, insulting them.

“Y/N, right? Only your first day at this school and I’ve heard all about you. You and your mom – I heard, she gave the principal a blowie so he would let you join the school. Not surprised, from the looks of you, your whole family are whores.” Henry muttered, making his way closer and closer to her face. Y/N felt sick at his words, the idea of a rumour like that being spread around school filling her with nothing but rage. With his final sentence, she watched as his hand went to reach under her skirt, before he had locked eyes with a police officer who stood against one of the cars. He pulled his hand away almost immediately, and she swore she saw a look of fear in the bully’s eyes. He began to back away, thankfully, but finished with one final sentence.

“This summer’s gonna be a hurt train, for you and your faggot friends” He threatened, before licking his palm and sliding it across Y/N’s cheek in one swift motion, eventually walking off towards their car and driving off. As soon as the group were far enough away, Y/N span around to check on the boys.

“A-are you guys okay?” she muttered, checking all 4 of them for grass stains or bruises. Meanwhile, they stood frozen, staring at the girl. It was starting to make her nervous, like she had done something wrong; “what?”

“That. Was. Hot” Richie muttered out, one word at a time, as his eyes remained solely on the girl in front of him. He thought the girl was the prettiest person he had ever seen; her e/c eyes which sparkled in the sunlight; her smile which stretched up to her eyes, that just seemed so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness; her wavy h/c which flowed, it looked so soft, and he just wanted to run his fingers through- What was happening to Richie?

“Excuse me?” She questioned, furrowing her brows and giggling at the boy.

“Uh, thank you. He meant to say th-th-thank you” Bill stuttered out, the girls appearance setting him back a little too; nowhere near as much as Richie though. While the other boys had snapped back to reality, Richie still seemed in some kind of trance, until Stan nudged his side harshly.

“Oh that’s no problem, Stanley here is the only friend I’ve made so far, so I thought I’d help out. I guess I didn’t expect…”

“Henry, Henry Bowers” Eddie filled in, noticing she was racking her brain for a name she knew didn’t reside there. She nodded, smiling thankfully before continuing

“…Henry to be so, uh, psychotic. Is he always like that?”

“Pretty much, stay away from him as much as you can Y/N. He’s a dickhead” Stan warned her, watching as her head nodded in acceptance; he didn’t have to tell her twice. “Oh, we were going to head to the Barrens tomorrow, i-if you wanted to join?”

“The Barrens? What’s that?” she questioned, furrowing her eyebrows and looking around the group to see they were all staring at her in admiration.

“It’s a small tract of land still heavily covered in trees and plant life, but there’s a river that runs through it…” Stan explained, watching as she went to ask why anyone would want to spend their day splashing through shitty water, but his face said it all; don’t ask.

“Umm, yeah. I’d like that – you have my number right, Stan?” she asked, and he nodded quickly. “Right, well I guess I better be off – my mom’s probably sat at home, waiting to hear all about how shit my day was, so… I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

She skipped off into the distance, Stan waving goodbye before turning back to the 3 boys who still stood shocked. Stan chuckled at the way they watched her leave, Richie’s mouth even falling open slightly, beginning to drool. He wiped it away quickly, before turning to Stan in an instant and almost yelling

“Who the fuck was that?”

[best-enemies]

For the fandom ask meme thing can I request the whole damn alphabet or is that not very cash money of me? I’m nosy lmao I wanna know all of them!

AHDKAJSDKJAHSKDA JACK YOU’RE THE BEST

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

I’ve had my current OTP for like almost 8 years and it’s, obviously, Thoschei (Doctor/Master). My other current obsession is the Gallifrey OT4 hehehe

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

It’s funny because I didn’t ship Hannigram at first... I’d thought the idea of a cannibal having a relationship was terrifying because what if they had sex and Hannibal got hungry in the middle of the act? Lmaoooo 

But yeah they’re my endgame now. I watched the show when it first aired and I was about 14/15 years old so now you see why I thought that. Although I’m still afraid I’m gonna be reading a fic and Hannibal will suddendly bite Will’s dick off or smth AKJHSAKJSAHSASKAJ

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will (be nice)

Uhhh Doctor/Clara. Mainly because I don’t like to ship the Doctor with companions (there may be one or two exceptions but I don’t ship them enough to actually say I ship them lol) and I don’t know I just never vibed with it

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t (again: be nice)

Doctor/River. I mean, I did like it for a while years ago but now it’s just... eh. I think she has a waaay better chemistry with the 12th Doctor, but still don’t ship it. I might give it a try once I listen to the River audios but so far meh. I’m not much of a multishipper anyway.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

God. I’ve written a couple of Academy Era (focused on the Deca) crack fanfics and I still have to translate them to English. They’re pure garbage but I love them. I have a lot of fun writing crack fics because they’re easier and I can ignore whatever piece of canon I want just for the laughs

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

Guess it’s Doctor Who, been here (in and out of the fandom) for over 8/9 years

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

Uhhhh I think it was Han Solo and Leia, since I was a kid really. I wanted to marry both of them lol

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)

I had to google what a source text is and still don’t know

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

I don’t think so, but Twitter definitively has. I remember a couple years ago I was curious to see what voltron was about and watched a few episodes, it was ok, fun and cute but the fandom was so annoying I stopped watching it for good and don’t care about it enough to pick it up again

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

I had definitively forgotten about supernatural until I saw it all over my dashboard in the year of our lord 2020 lmao like in my wholock days I tried to watch the show because everyone on my dash (is it still called dashboard?) was talking about it and I watched about 8 episodes before dropping it. But seeing it again on the dash was actually a happy surprise because the memes are too funny hahaha

K -Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms

I’m extremely shy irl and on the internet as well but I wanna say that  @janeturenne is one of the best authors ever and her fanfics are a blessing in my life; also @thebraxiatelcollection who brings awesome content to my dash and is also one of the best authors. And of course, you, Jack, also one of the best authors god I’m so BLESSED

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike)

Uhhh I guess I’m neutral about the current companions. They’re not my favorites but I don’t really dislike them - they had a lot of potential and chibs came up with some good storylines but did not develop them well in my opinion. I think Graham is a fun grandpa whom I’m going to miss when he leaves; Ryan is cool and could’ve done a lot more if the writers had kept a few things, it’d be awesome if he vlogged all of their adventures. He’s like the one I was curious to see more but sadly didn’t feel a connection; and Yaz, I hope she’ll keep growing and that her friendship with the Doctor will finally be developed to a level we can connect to her.

It sounds weird because with the fam it’s always ‘what I wish could have been’ because I never felt really connected to them :(

M - Say something genuinely nice about a ship that you don’t ship (or its shippers, or anything related to you)

Ok... I don’t really ship Rey/Finn but I think it’s one of the sweetest ships ever, and if they ended up together I’d be happy. They love each other and are there for each other always so, yeah :D

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

I don’t know if I got the question right but it’s three things I wish I saw more in my main fandom? Well, if it’s that, then, 3 things about the Doctor Who fandom: 1) people having more civilized or light-hearted discussions about things. Like, I genuinely disliked an 8th doctor audio I listened once that my friends loved, and they made fun of me and we joked about it. Also once we were in a live twitch video playing among us and discussing doctor who, and then we got into a ship “discourse” as a joke and nobody really cared and just laughed because everyone knew it’s fictional shit so why get mad over it? 2) Doctor Who has a titanic amount of content, it’s all canon but at the same time it’s not, so who cares? If you want to listen to Big Finish audios and if you can afford it, then lisiten; if you can’t, it’s okay, no one has the right to tell you you’re less of a fan. Just tell them to fuck off; 3) The best way to keep fandom alive is by creating content. Here in my local fandom we have several podcasts dedicated to all areas of the whoniverse (the show, the expanded universe, the audios, etc), those old fandom websites who do serious work to bring news to the fans, people who make subtitles for the classic series (we don’t have it available here so they do their best to make it accessible to other fans), accounts dedicated to promoting dr who fans who create content, and we even have people making their own audiodramas with dw characters and writing book-lenght fanfiction to help explain the show to people who’ve never watched it, and a great variety of things. I’ve seen a few of these things in the international fandom, mostly by older fans, so I wish younger fans about my age who have the means to make this kind of stuff would make it too. Maybe there’d be less twitter drama out there lol

O - Choose a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of

“the killing moon” by echo & the bunnymen reminds me of thoschei. yep it was totally random

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

The fact that we don’t have a pride and prejudice AU for brax/romana yet is driving me insane

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why

I’ve mentioned it before but doctor/river, don’t really remember why idk I just don’t vibe with it anymore. But also because thoschei has so many different pairings in 1 ship that I don’t really feel the need to ship them with anyone else lol

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

GOD I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE IT’S SO SPECIFIC ok fellow academy era stans gather around if you have read Divided Loyalties there’s a scene where it SHOWS that Magnus had a crush on Ushas. And NO ONE HAS EVER TALKED ABOUT THEM and the power couple they would’ve made. I write them into all my fanfics in hopes of making other people ship them but I’ve had no success so far

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

The Master is a big fan of musicals and in the 77 years he spent on earth he watched every single one ever. I’m gonna be bold and say that when he was young, still Koschei, he was an artist, and thought about dropping everything to become an actor on Gallifrey. Time Lords do appreciate art, and have their own plays, but it’s just the same old and boring ones the young people don’t care about. The Master then created a shocking performance that was way ahead of its time and the older Time Lords were so appalled they banned him from writing and presenting plays and that’s his villain origin story

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

1) The Doctor and the Master married on Gallifrey and the entire show is just them having the most litigious divorce in the universe (still isn’t final because the Master has killed all the judges); 2) Ushas/The Rani is ace; 3) The Deca was a 10 people polyamorous relationship; 4) Romana and Livia were girlfriends at the Academy and they hate each other now because the break up was baad; 5) Romana writes fanfiction; 6) Romana/Leela had a thing in Davidia I KNOW it; 7) Leela pegs Narvin; 8) Brax has a life-size painting of Romana at his collection or a statue or smth; 9) Brax’s dream in Reborn is actually REAL and he’s married to Romana, Leela and Narvin all at the same time

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

I don’t even think I’m in 5 fandoms but

Doctor Who: The Master, The Doctor, Romana, Leela, Sarah Jane, Bill (this was the hardest thing ever)

The X-Files: Mulder, Scully, Monica, and can I add The Lone Gunmen too?

Star Wars: Leia, Obi-Wan, Finn, Poe Dameron and honorable mention to Din Djarin and Grogu

Hannibal: Hannibal, Will, Bev, Alana, Chiyoh

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

That’s hard

Doctor Who: thoschei ofc, gallifrey ot4.......... uuhh as you can see i don’t ship many pairings in the show

The X-Files: Mulder and Scully. And whatever Scully and Monica had going on because they definitively flirted

Star Wars: Poe/Finn, Han/Leia, whatever Han/Lando had going on too

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said ships

WHATVASHAJSKAJSA ok this is a little embarassing but I don’t have a lot of kinks for many ships... I guess I have some for thoschei like, choking, whipping, blindfolds/gagging, bondage, begging, biting, sem-public, phone sex, dirty talk, body worship, praise kink, etc. Alright alright I know it’s a lot but in my defense they've shown half of these on the show

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

The Master, Romana, Leela, Brax, Narvin, Bill Potts, Martha Jones, Sarah Jane, Donna Noble, Lucie Miller. No particular order for most of them but the Master is my precious baby and I will die for this mf

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

Not many, usually the people I follow are in the same fandoms as I am but I’ve seen some mutuals reblog some Hadestown stuff which is a play that I’ve never seen but definitively would because the protagonists look hot 

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

I DON’T KNOW WHAT DOES IT MEAN

it took me three hours to do this but it was fun!! thank you bb <3

[aion-rsa]

Upcoming Movies in September 2020: Theaters, Streaming, and VOD

https://ift.tt/2CUVT60

Movies are back! Granted they never really left either, with Netflix, Amazon, Disney+, and others keeping us satiated with content these past five months. Still, the streamers are about to be reinforced for those willing to return to movie theaters: Major Hollywood blockbuster releases are coming, and limited rollouts are slowly making their way back into cinemas around the world.

For that reason, we’ve assembled a list of potential moviegoing experiences in September, whether on the big screen (please consider the risks of attending a theatrical screening) or at home via video on demand. It’s time for the popcorn to get popping.

Bill & Ted Face the Music

Now playing in theaters and VOD in the US (September 23 in the UK)

One of the biggest movies yet to eschew its intended theatrical window for a premium video on demand (PVOD) release is this most excellent adventure. It’s been 29 years since we last saw Alex Winter’s far out Ted or Keanu Reeves’ perpetually astonished Bill, yet it’s good to have both back in their legendary stoner roles. 

The fact they’re middle-aged and still having adventures through time and space, and against the visage of Death—he’s still cheating!—is pretty sweet. As is Keanu coming back to this role one Speed, three Matrixes, and nearly five John Wick chapters later. But this time they’ve got daughters (played by Samara Weaving and Brigette Lundy-Paine)… but rest assured, the children are as amused as their dads.

Tenet

Now playing in the UK (September 3 in the US)

Already playing in the UK, Tenet will be making its much vaunted North American debut in “select U.S. cities” in September. We’re still not entirely clear what that will look like, but hopefully it will be worth it for this mysterious and visually dazzling Christopher Nolan epic. 

Early reviews are in, and the majority promise Nolan’s most exciting use of IMAX spectacle to date, though even without spoilers, this one might be too big for its own good. Our own Rosie Fletcher describes it as Nolan’s long-whispered about James Bond movie meets Doctor Who…

The New Mutants

Now playing in the U.S. (September 4 UK)

Josh Boone’s journey into the X-Men universe has been pushed back so many times it almost feels like a mythical lost movie. So when it finally arrives in UK cinemas on Sept. 4 (it landed in the U.S. at the end of August) it might feel like a bizarre flashback to another era – namely that of 2017 when the main shoot took place. 

Maisie Williams, Anya Taylor-Joy, Charlie Heaton, Blu Hunt, and Henry Zaga star as five young mutants held in a sinister facility against their will. It’s been positioned as an action horror which in theory sounds pretty cool, though what the final cut will look like is anyone’s guess.

Mulan

September 4 (Disney+ with premium)

One day after Tenet makes its U.S. debut, Disney, and more specifically Disney+, offers a starkly different vision for the future of cinema with Mulan. Whereas Tenet will attempt to jumpstart moviegoing, Disney has pushed one of their biggest 2020 blockbusters exclusively to streaming in all markets featuring Disney+, including the U.S. and UK. That means if you want to see Niki Caro’s anticipated reimagining of the 1998 animated Disney movie, you are going to have to pay $30 on top of your Disney+ subscription to get a load of this bad boy on a new PVOD model.

Read more

Movies

Mulan and Tenet Show Competing Visions for Future of Movies

By David Crow

Movies

UK Cinemas Slam Disney After Mulan Streaming Announcement

By Kirsten Howard

Even so, the film’s need to step away from the 1998 version’s iconography—Chinese moviegoers generally dislike musicals—appears to offer an opportunity to make a modern 2020 epic that can stand on its own two feet.

I’m Thinking of Ending Things

September 4 (Netflix)

Charlie Kaufman does horror? Well, uh, maybe?! For his first Netflix original production, the idiosyncratic writer-director behind Synecdoche, New York, and the Being John Malkovich screenplay is adapting Iain Reid’s thriller novel, I’m Thinking of Ending Things. But Kaufman is expected to come at it from his singularly off-center perspective.

With a somber setup about a young woman (played by Wild Rose’s talented Jessie Buckley) going to meet the parents of her boyfriend (Jesse Plemons), the movie is actually about an unhappy lover planning to terminate her relationship. Yet when she meets Mom and Dad (Toni Collette and David Thewlis), things are going to get weirder, if not necessarily better for the relationship…

The Roads Not Taken

September 11 (UK)

Sally Potter’s wistful drama was nominated for the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival earlier in the year before the world went into lockdown. It follows Leo (Javier Bardem), a man with dementia, as he imagines different paths in life he might have taken, while his daughter Mollie tries to help him keep various appointments and struggles with decisions about her own future. A very personal study of mental illness, grief, and regret.

The Devil All the Time

September 16 (Netflix)

Southern fried noir might be the creepiest noir. With its rural and sunny backdrops, and a smiling Christian face, its pleasantries belie an evil heart. And Tom Holland of all people will be driving right to the dark center of it in The Devil All the Time, a new thriller by writer-director Antonio Campos. 

Ready to bow on Netflix this month, the all-star cast, which also includes Bill Skarsgård, Riley Keough, Sebastian Stan, and Robert Pattinson, as a fire and brimstone preacher no less, The Devil All the Time reimagines post-WWII Tennessee backwoods as a hotbed of corruption, hypocrisy, and murder. Sounds about right.

Antebellum

September 18 (U.S. Only)

Co-writers and directors Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz appear to have cracked the code in making one of fiction’s favorite fantasies terrifying. You know the type: From Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court to Midnight in Paris, some congenial fellow travels back to a point in history he loves and has an all-around splendid time. Now imagine that same scenario except the protagonist is a Black woman. And she’s sent to the Antebellum South on the eve of the Civil War. Scared yet?

It’s a disturbing premise that aims to put Antebellum in the same wheelhouse as recent horror movies that have tackled American racism head on, including Jordan Peele’s Get Out and Us. The movie stars the ever compelling Janelle Monáe as a 21st century author trapped inside a 19th century nightmare, and it’s one of the most intriguing setups of the year. It also will be available on VOD and in select theaters.

The King’s Man

September 18 (September 16 in the UK)

Kingsman: The Secret Service was one of the nicer surprises of 2015. A better Bond movie than that year’s Bond film, this Matthew Vaughn directed and Jane Goldman co-written spy adventure was both a satire and loving homage to 007 movies of the 1960s and ‘70s, with excessive swagger and style to boot. Unfortunately, Kingsman: The Golden Circle (2017) didn’t live up to its predecessor. It did, however, make enough money to spawn a prequel. Which brings us to The King’s Man.

As Disney/20th Century Studios’ latest release, this movie sees Vaughn return to the director’s chair as he travels back in time to World War I and the origins of the Kingsman secret service. With the same daffy style but now in period garb (it worked for Vaughn in X-Men: First Class), the prequel hopes to recapture the charm of the original. It certainly has a winning cast that includes Ralph Fiennes, Daniel Bruhl, Djimon Hounsou, and Gemma Arterton.

Kajillionaire

September 18 (October 9 in the UK)

One of the happy discoveries out of this year’s Sundance Film Festival, Focus Features’ Kajillionaire is a movie we’ve had our eye on for a while. The picture is writer-director Miranda July’s pleasant vision of criminality and heists being the stuff of family team-building. Take Evan Rachel Wood as Old Dolio. She’s an adult daughter whose depression has forced her to live at home with her small time crook parents. But Mom and Pop (Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) have a plan; they’ll incorporate their daughter in the next heist and bring her out of her funk. It’s a charming premise that won over almost every critic who saw it back in January.

The Nest

September 18 (U.S. Only)

Another apparent highlight out of Sundance this year, Sean Durkin’s The Nest presents itself as a foreboding drama. As the follow-up feature from the director of Martha Marcy May Marlene, the film intends to be an unsettling account of a wealthy marriage descending into Gaslight levels of manipulation. With Jude Law as the rich patriarch and Carrie Coon as his quietly suffering wife, a sudden move to the country reveals dark dimensions to their relationship and the brittleness of domesticity. If the buzz is to be believed, the wound up WASPy tension in this could strangle an elephant.

Enola Holmes

September 23 (Netflix)

Did you know Sherlock Holmes had a little sister? You’re about to thanks to some strong synergetic mojo going on at Netflix with Enola Holmes, a new mystery/adventure that stars The Witcher’s Henry Cavill as Sherlock, The Crown’s Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Holmes, and Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown as the eponymous Enola. That’s right, Eleven’s going to use her own English accent and play Sherlock’s kid sister. 

Often kept in her famous brother’s shadow, it is up to Enola to do him one better when she sets off to find their mysteriously vanished mother. In the process, she proves she’s a super-sleuth in her own right and brings to light a deadly conspiracy. The game’s afoot!

Misbehaviour

September 25 (Open in the UK)

A crowd-pleaser that debuted earlier in the year in the UK, Misbehaviour has all the markers of a charming dramedy with real world ramifications. In fact, it’s set during the events of the Miss World competition in 1970, a televised beauty pageant in London that was then the most-watched event on the planet. In this context, the Women’s Liberation Movement reached international acclaim by disrupting the proceedings, and a Woman of Color from Grenada became a contender for the Miss World title.

Director Philippa Lowthorpe (The Crown) reportedly explores these events to winning results with an ensemble of players that Keira Knightley and Jessie Buckley as lead activists, Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Jennifer Hosten (aka Miss Grenada), and Greg Kinnear at his greasiest as an aging Bob Hope.

Greenland

September 25 (U.S. Only)

Imagine this: A comet that is supposed to gently pass Earth by was misjudged by the science community, and instead a cataclysmic extinction level event occurs with comet fragments destroying parts of the world one action scene at a time! Yeah, in 2020 that sounds about right. It’s also the plot of Greenland, a new high-concept survivalist action movie starring Gerard Butler as a family man who, realizing Florida is gone and his home state is next, tries to save his wife (Morena Baccarin) and child by getting his family to the last place that may be spared: military bunkers in Greenland!

And you thought U.S. leadership was being ridiculous when it tried to buy the country a few years ago…

The post Upcoming Movies in September 2020: Theaters, Streaming, and VOD appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2EO8EjF

[hollandary]

Bartender - Tom Holland

A/N: I came up with this idea while I was listening to Bartender by T-Pain so I highly recommend listening to that while reading. 

Summary: After Tom goes through a breakup, some of the Avengers cast bring him out to a club to cheer him up and he meets a cute bartender.

Word Count: 1,592

Warnings: flirting, drinking

*gif not mine

“Come on Tom, it’ll be fun! We’ll get your mind off of Zendaya in no time!” Harrison cheered, clapping Tom on the back as the six men made their way into the club.

The music thumped loudly, applying pressure to the men’s sensitive ears. Lights danced around the room, illuminating the moving bodies that consumed way too much alcohol in too little time. Tom offered his best mate a tight smile, running his fingers through his curls. “That’s really not necessary, mate.”

Although Tom and Zendaya only broke up the night previous, the relationship was over long before that and they both knew it. Their kisses became less passionate and loving and more caring and friendly, their text messages became less flirtatious and exciting and more professional and work-related. This breakup was expected on both ends, they were just too upset to go through with it.

It was sad, but they both knew they were better as friends.

“Don’t you worry, Spider-Ling. We’ll get you all nice and boozed up Anthony Mackie style.” Anthony smirked, throwing an arm around Tom’s shoulder and leading him towards the V.I.P section they had reserved. The bouncer nodded in greeting, unhooking the red velvet rope and letting them through.

The Brit chuckled as Sebastian Stan cheered loudly from beside Anthony and hurried into their secluded area. “This is gonna be messy.” Chris Evans sighed from the back of the group, the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips betraying how he really felt. “Aw, lighten up Evans. We grandpas have to show the new blood how to have a good time.” Robert Downey Jr. smiled, hurrying after the others.

After the group had gotten settled and Robert had ordered an obviously over-priced bottle of vodka, they immediately launched into conversation. Well, all except Tom. Downey and Evans had begun gushing over the plush seats, Anthony, Sebastian and Harrison jumping from one topic to another unable to linger on one too long due to each of them having too big of a personality, and Tom sat quietly nodding and smiling absentmindedly when addressed.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful to the guys, or even that he was sad and moping about his failed relationship. No, he was just bored.

“I’m going to the bar.” He muttered, standing from his seat. Before Harrison could even mention that they had personal waitresses for their group, he was gone.

He winced as his feet stuck and unstuck to the floor with every step, slightly disgusted with the level of cleanliness of the club but not at all surprised. It didn’t take him long to reach the bar which was, surprisingly, not as crowded as his originally thought. He waited patiently for the bartender to finish serving drinks to the man that was obviously flirting with her before he made himself known.

Y/N turned at the sight of the new customer, elated to get away from the creepy middle-aged man that couldn’t seem to remove his eyes from her chest. Her mood lifted even higher when she saw who stood waiting for her. He was extremely attractive. His chocolate curls perfectly framing his well-structured face, the button down shirt he wore accentuating his defined muscles oh so deliciously with the first few buttons undone to give her a nice peek at his chest.

Tom could’ve sworn he almost fainted when Y/N turned to face him. Her beautiful Y/H/C locks falling over her shoulders and her alluring Y/E/C eyes screaming with mischief.

“Hey there, handsome.” She smirked, sauntering over to him and leaning against the bar rail. “You look like you need a drink.”

He chuckled lightly and nodded his head. “I definitely need a drink.” Her breath hitched in her throat at the English accent that coated his words making them sound that much sweeter. “Then what will it be?”

The corner of his pink lips turned up into a smirk to match hers, a look that made her heart skip a beat. “Surprise me.” He raised an eyebrow almost challengingly and she quickly spun around to grab a bottle of tequila off of the shelf and two shot glasses to go with it.

Turning back to face him, she poured the drinks, pushing one towards him and grabbing the other for herself. “Cheers.” She said, raising the shot glass and winking at the man in front of her only for him to do the same.

Flirting was easy for her, it was practically in the job description. But never in a million years did she expect a boy looking like that to show up to her bar and flirt with her just as heavily.

They downed the shots in time with each other, slamming the empty glasses down on the rail. “So what’s your name, handsome?” A faint pink hue flushed his cheeks at the name, whether from the alcohol or the compliment, Y/N would never know. She hoped it was the latter.

“Tom. You?”

“Y/N.”

Gosh, even her name was pretty. The actor already felt like puddy in her hands and he’d only been talking to her for a few minutes. “So what brings you here, Tom?” Long forgotten were the friends waiting in the V.I.P section and a bar rail of creepy drunk men, the only thing that mattered to either of them was the attractive person in front of them.

It was hard to hear each other, the loud music nearly drowning out their words. It didn’t bother them though, it only gave them more incentive to get closer to each other. Hell, Y/N almost wanted to tell her boss to turn it up louder so she would have an excuse to get even closer to him.

“A few of my mates brought me ‘round for a guys night out.” She almost laughed. ‘Guys night out’ almost always translated to ‘one of us broke up with our partner so now we’re all going to get drunk and get them laid’.

“And where are your ‘mates’?” She teased, a small smile on her face as she leaned in closer to him. From where she was she could smell the mint toothpaste and tequila on his breath. It took everything in her to not grab his face and kiss him right here.

Tom nodded his head in the direction of the V.I.P section where he left his friends, his curls falling in his face at the sudden movement. Y/N couldn’t make out their faces but it looked like they were having a good time.

When he turned his head to face her again she reached her hand out to brush a stray curl out of his eye, her fingers trailing softly over his cheekbone.

His skin felt like it was on fire from her touch, his cheeks burning red and his eyes glazing over. The air surrounding them was cackling with electricity making their skin tingle and the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.

“Bartender!”

Y/N moved away from Tom with a smirk and spun around to face the new customer spitting out their drink order to her. Heaving a breath, Tom ran his hands through his hair, his biceps flexing at the movement - something Y/N caught out of the corner of her eye which caused her to bite her lip.

Once their drinks were made and their bills were settled, Y/N made her way back over to Tom who was smirking at her approaching form. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” He teased, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but in truth, she couldn’t. It felt like they were magnets, destined to be near each other and never being able to pull away without wanting more.

“Where’s Tom?” Chris asked the others, looking around the booth with a frown. “He’s been gone for awhile.” The rest of the group looked around curiously, also noticing Tom’s absence. “And I wouldn’t expect him back anytime soon.” Anthony called out with a smirk, his eyes locked on Tom’s figure leaning up against the bar rail chatting with the pretty bartender. “That’s my boy!” Sebastian cheered, slapping Anthony on the back in celebration.

“She will definitely help him get over Zendaya.” Robert stated, nodding in approval. “Maybe she could help me get over Zendaya too.” Harrison replied with a low whistle, earning chuckles from the other males.

Back over at the bar, the conversation (and drinks) was flowing between the two young adults, the tension between them palpable. “Not like this isn’t one of the best conversations I’ve had in awhile,” Y/N said when Tom finished up a story about his friend Harrison and a gallon of wine. “But shouldn’t you be getting back to your friends?”

The brit sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair, a sight that Y/N adored, and pouted. “I guess so. But hey, could I see you again?”

Y/N bit her lip, acting like she was contemplating the offer as her eyes raked up and down his frame. “I get off at 3.” With a final wink and playful wave of her fingers, she had left him at the end of the bar to tend to a new customer.

The stupid grin plastered on his face never left as he practically skipped over to his friends. “Hey lover boy.” Robert called when Tom returned. “How’d it go?”

“I think she thinks I’m cool.”

[notafightr]

It fic exchange!!!

so here's my reddie fic for @disneyfan567​ for the it fic exchange event! no trigger warnings, sorry for any mistakes or lack of skill this displays as i havent written in a long time and this is the first time ive written in this fandom

(°﹏°)

  Eddie was 13 when he moved to Ohio. Sonia decided she had had enough of Derry, and the small town was doing more harm than good to her delicate son. To describe Eddie's reaction, reluctant was an understatement. He was leaving his 6 best friends, his only real friends, all because of his mother's glorified temper tantrum.

  The past 3 years were (in)arguably the best years of his life. He met his best friends, more of a family than his own (which really just consisted of his overbearing mother), he had irreplaceable experiences and memories with his best friends, these friends entirely shaped and nurtured his character. So to have his mother rip all of that away from him, well it understandably upset him. Most of all, he didn't know how he was going to cope with the frequent flashbacks and nightmares that taxed him emotionally and mentally several times a week, dutifully owed to that short, albeit rather traumatic summer of 89’.

  For 3 long, yet oh so short years, Eddie coped with these strains through the support of his friends, especially a loudmouthed, annoying boy with Coke bottle glasses and slightly bucked teeth, named Richard Tozier, who couldn't find it in him to ever stop annoying Eddie, or stop telling him how much he loved him, or stop picking flowers for him on walks because he knew even though Eddie denied it, they really did make Eddie happier than he cared to admit.

  How do you cope with a demon clown terrorising you and your friends’ lives for an entire summer, haunting you as your worst fear, using unholy tactics to scare you in unimaginable ways, trapping you in its crack den, and almost killing you miles below land level, all at the ripe age of 10? Hopefully you found yourself down there with your 6 best friends. You also let your mind do the forgetting. Well, what it can. There's some things you can't forget.

  Until you leave Derry.

  Eddie started forgetting the moment the plane took off, whether he realized it or not. He managed to remember his friends for a short while, but vaguely. He didn't remember the poems Ben gave him every birthday, or that the friendship bracelet on his left wrist was made by thee Beverly Marsh. He didn't remember that the reason his room was always so tidy was because Stan Uris couldn't help himself every time they chose Eddie’s place as the hangout spot (when Sonia wasn't home of course), or all the scary stories Bill liked to tell at their weekly sleepovers at the ass crack of 3 am. He didn't remember how Jessica and Will Hanlon were by far the superior parents of the friend group and the snacks they so generously provided to said group were the best he ever had, no doubt that Mike directly inherited their kind and generous traits.

  When he woke up at the end of his plane ride, he didn't even remember that the lily flower in his hand was given to him as a parting gift by Richie, whose parents picked him up from the airport after he gave one last hug goodbye at the gate and waved Eddie off with flower in hand. Even after intently looking down, confused, and finally remembering it was indeed Richie who gave him the flower, he still didn't remember Richie’s endearing flower giving habit.

  He promised them he'd stay in touch, but it wasn't long before the initials BH, BM, SU, BD, MH, and RT were just meaningless letters next to a series of unknown house phone numbers.

  It wasn't until he forgot one particular conversation with Bill during a sleepover one night in 6th grade that he forgot Richie completely.

  “Bill?” Eddie whispered, lying down in Bill’s bed, not even sure if Bill was awake.

  “Y-yeah?” Bill replied after some silence.

  “So, we're best friends right?”

  “Well y-yeah, I m-mean all-” Bill started before being interrupted.

  “No I mean like, I know the seven of us are best friends obviously, but I mean, we’re best-best friends, you know what I mean? Like even before the lucky seven it's always been us right?”

  “Oh. Yeah I s-suppose.” Bill reassured him.

  It took Eddie a second to try and gather his thoughts and articulate what he was trying to say.

  “Well, I feel like, Richie’s different from all of you.”

  “Yeah n-no sh-shit Eddie, that k-kid can't k-keep his mou-” Bill was again interrupted.

  “No, that's not what I mean. I mean,” Eddie again had to organize his thoughts in his head, which proved to be difficult when not even he knew what he was thinking. “I mean I feel different with him. Like when he gives me flowers and stuff, and he's the only one that calls me Eds. But I know you're my best friend. My best-best friend. Am I wrong? Maybe Richie is my best-best friend?” At this point it felt like Eddie was just saying it out loud for himself.

  After a few seconds, which felt like several minutes to Eddie, Bill giggled.

  “What?” Eddie asked, almost panicked.

  While Bill didn't necessarily believe this, the thought amused him greatly. “It s-sounds like you have a c-cr-crush on h-him.”

  “Wh-... you th-” Eddie just about got whiplash from Bill’s statement. “You think I have a crush on him?!”

  “I n-never said that… I j-just said it s-sounds like you do.”

  “I'm not… I don't like boys like that. My mom told me what it means if you do and what happens, and I don't think I do,” he backtracked.

  At this point, Bill was almost asleep. “Okay Eddie, that's fine,”

  “I think maybe you're just both my best friends,” Eddie assured, but undoubtedly he said this more for himself than for Bill. Bill probably succumbed to slumber before Eddie could even start.

  Once any evidence of this conversation having occurred left his brain, any trace of Richie was buried deep under newer things. The others were already long gone. The nightly nightmares he experience fizzled out eventually, but they did resurface every once in a while. On the other side of the same coin however, he did have dreams about the good times with the losers. He never remembered them when he woke up, though.

  Not to mention, he was frequently frustrated at his lack of motivation to clean his room properly, wondering why his always clean room in Derry suddenly had no place in his new life in Ohio. Where's a Stan Uris when you need him?

  He tried to make friends. For a bit he was even in a nice friend group of people he clicked fairly well with, they were funny and kind and they welcomed him with open arms. But nothing felt right. They were funny, but it hurt to laugh at their jokes, they were nice, but almost too nice. If anyone so much as cracked a your mom joke, Eddie's first thought was an annoyed “Stop trying to be-” but always stopped short right there.

  Stop trying to be who?

  He didn't know. He didn't remember.

  So at the end of his sophomore year, when he asked his mom to sign his permission form for the classes he wanted to take the upcoming school year, his mom declined.

  “Eddie Bear, we're moving back to Derry this summer.” Sonia said apologetically, understanding he'll have to say goodbye to the friends he doesn't have.

  “Wait, what?” confused was an understatement. He had to rack his brain for a moment to even remember what “Derry” meant.

  “It’s getting difficult for me to support us financially here, so we're moving back near your Aunt Jodie and she's going to help us a little bit. We should start packing no later than the end of May, we’ll be out of the house and into the new one at the beginning of July in time for you to to get settled and start school at Derry High.”

  Eddie had never felt more indifferent in his whole entire life, while also feeling an inkling of hope he didn't quite understand. If anything, his biggest curiosity was why he didn't feel even a whisper of sadness for leaving the people he knew in Marietta, Ohio. While Eddie didn't care about moving back to Derry, and it meant almost nothing to him on the surface, the Eds inside of Eddie couldn't help peeking through.

  So they moved back. Eddie finished packing up his belongings before the deadline his mother gave to start packing had even passed, and he didn't bother telling any of his “friends” (perhaps acquaintances is a more applicable word) that he was leaving because the truth was, it was more trouble than it was worth. They would no doubt care more than twice as much as he did, so he left without so much of a trace of a goodbye.

  Now that Eddie was 16, he could drive. While Sonia wouldn't buy Eddie his own car, not over her dead body, she did allow him to use hers when it was available, and given her physical state and social life, it was almost always available. After a solid 8 hours of unpacking his things in his new, snug room on an otherwise uneventful July evening, he picked up his mom's keys.

  “Bye Mom!” he shouted loud enough for his mom to hear without bothering to hear her response as he shut the door.

  He shoved the key in ignition. Despite not having been in town for 3 years, he was still able to navigate the area without assistance. He drove to the coffee shop that he had vague memories of visiting during middle school winters for hot chocolate with some friends whose faces he couldn't quite remember yet.

  Walking in it didn't look much different. Not that Derry would care enough to update the coffee shop, or any shop for that matter, for any reason.

  “Hi, how can I help you?” a blonde girl at the register asked uninterestedly.

  She definitely hates her job, Eddie thought while pointlessly perusing the menu, already knowing what he planned to order. Sophomore year was not academically kind to Eddie, and a caffeine addiction to compensate for the mass amount of all nighters pulled did occur.

  “Can I just have a black coffee with sugar?” he asked while digging through his tattered black wallet he received as a birthday gift in seventh grade. He then flinched his head up in response to hearing another employee drop an entire pitcher of coffee on the floor.

  “Oh, fuck,” said worker pointedly exclaimed, which not only stirred a giggle out of Eddie, but his voice in combination with his oddly familiar black curly hair caused his heart drop, though completely lost as to why.

  “Your name?”

  “Hello?” She asked after a moment.

  “Hello!” the blonde girl repeatedly nagged, trying to catch Eddie’s lost attention.

  “What? Sorry I missed that,” Eddie finally grounded himself. Unfortunately his attempt to catch the other employees face failed as he stayed turned away and then hurried to his hands and knees on the floor.

  “I need your name for your order.”

  “Oh yeah of course, Eddie.” Not even seconds after his response, he heard something nearly inaudible, completely not understandable from the employee on the floor, which was confirmed by the blonde girl, which Eddie now gathered from her name tag to be Sarah, who exasperatedly asked about the other employee’s struggle.

  “You alright down there?”

  “Yeah, I’m just peachy, Sarah,” hearing the voice even clearer instilled a visceral reaction even stronger in Eddie once again.

  Sarah took Eddie’s cash, distributed his change, and set his cup down on the back counter for when the other employee to make when he was done cleaning up his mess. He picked a seat close by the counter and waited. After a few minutes, longer than probably usual, given time dedicated to cleaning up the coffee on the floor, Eddie heard his name called by the same antagonist and saw his coffee set on the counter, but employee was again out of sight. Eddie grabbed the coffee and with no reason to stay he made his way back to the car.

  Drinking his iced coffee on his way home, at a stop light he picked up his drink and studied it curiously. He noticed the boy who made his drink must have added his name for some reason because when Sarah set it down for him to make, there was nothing written on it. However, clearly on the cup, was his name:

  While looking at the little flower next to his name made him smile, it was a cute gesture, it filled him with a familiar sense of longing and loneliness, as if he was missing something. He got home, finished his coffee, continued unpacking, dreadfully argued with his mom about leaving the house without telling her where he was going, and went to sleep. It was less of a need for caffeine but more of an eagerness to learn about a curly headed, clumsy employee that brought him back to the coffee shop the next day.

  So he came back. He came back at the same time too, to have his best chance of the boy being on shift.

  “How can I help you?” Sarah asked.

  “Black coffee with sugar, Eddie.” successfully staying on track with Sarah this time around.

  Again, she set the blank cup on the counter and just like before, his name with a dainty doodle of a flower beside it. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to say anything to the employee which Eddie now knew wears a big pair of glasses, his introverted nature wouldn't allow it. Back to home it was, to continue setting up his new room.

  The next couple of weeks was the same routine, and quite lonely. Being in the middle of summer, with no school to be his vessel of socializing, and no friends, it was him, his lonely self, and his mom. For all intents and purposes, him and his lonely self.

  However one morning, in a hurry as he had a family gathering for brunch to attend to, he knew he wouldn't be able to get to the coffee shop in the evening so he came in the morning, despite knowing the shift would likely not be the same.

  He walked in and noticed it was in fact not Sarah at the register but didn't look further.

  “How can I help you?” The boy at the register was looking down.

  “Just a black coffee and sugar. Eddie.” He got the cash from his wallet and told the boy he could keep the change as he was already late to his aunt's house and confident he could do without the dollar and 74 cents. As he walked to the counter to get his coffee as soon as it was ready, he noticed the boy scribbling his name and a flower on the cup but his brain didn't process anything other than how late he was. He took his coffee eagerly and made his way back to his car, knowing his mom (who was already there after being picked up by her sister) was no stranger to yelling at Eddie for “caring more about himself than his family”.

  On the drive to his house he allowed himself time to think and thought about the boy at the register. He was familiar to Eddie and not just because he's seen him every day for two weeks, making his regular order with ease.

  The Coke bottle glasses.

  The flower.

  The unkempt, black, curly hair.

  But that was still too out of reach for him. He thought about it for as long as he could without having an aneurysm from working his brain too hard and decided he would come back the next morning for the same shift.

  Sonia greeted Eddie outside before he was able to come inside.

 “Eddie bear, why are you so late?”

  “Sorry ma, I was up late finishing my summer assignment and I stopped to get coffee when I left,” Eddie started despite knowing this wouldn't be enough to appease his mom.

  “Aunt Jodie is being very kind to help us out and this is the first time seeing family since we've gotten back, you should show your gratitude properly. Say thank you when we come in.”

  “I will, Ma. Why didn't you just wake me up and take the car here?”

  “Aunt Jodie wanted to catch up with me before everyone else got here. She took us to breakfast. I figured you'd have enough autonomy to drive yourself here on time. Are you feeling well? Did you sleep enough?”

  “Yes, ma!” Eddie spoke as he got out of the car and locked it, handing the keys to his mom. “I just overslept. Sorry for being late.”

  However, while his cousins and aunts and uncles were asking him how Ohio was and if he was sad to leave his friends and if he left a broken hearted girlfriend back in Marietta, all he could think about was the coffee shop employee who never failed to doodle a flower next to his name.

  He got home late, worked on his summer assignment, because against what he told his mom, he had in fact not started yet. He made sure to wake up at the same time as the morning before and headed to the coffee shop. To his pleasure, the boy was at the register.

  “How can I help you?”

  Eddie stared at him.

  “Uh,” He couldn't help but chortle as Eddie stared, wordlessly, and then it appeared as though a freight train of memories hit him square in the head.

  “Oh my God,” Eddie nearly dropped to the floor. “Richie? Richie fucking Tozier? Is this a joke?”

  “Ya know Eds, I was starting to think you really forgot me. Or maybe you just hated me.” Richie allowed himself to laugh.

  “I… I did forget you? But how? We-” and at that moment Richie could visibly see It creep itself back into Eddie’s memories.

  “Holy shit? You forgot about that too? Do you have amnesia? What happened to that pretty little head of yours?” Richie put his hand on Eddie's forehead and pretended to feel his temperature.

  “Oh my God,” whiplash had struck Eddie again. “I need to sit down,” He started to move to a chair nearby when he remembered more. “The others! Beverly, and Ben, and Stan and Bill and Mike!” he quite literally felt like someone waking up from a 20 year coma, rediscovering everything that happened before he fell asleep.

  “They're peachy. Stan's actually getting back from visiting his family in Florida today.” Richie informed him. “Any reason you never stayed in touch like you said you would? Left a man hanging.”

  “It's like, wait- those initials were yours!” Suddenly three years of wondering who those house numbers in his binder belonged to clicked. “It’s like I forgot you guys as soon as I left,”

  “That soon? Ed's, you wound me,” Richie teased. “But you're still wearing the friendship bracelet Bev made.” He held out his wrist and displayed a bracelet of the same pattern but in different colors. “What’s she got that I don't?”

  For the first time in 3 years, Eddie let out a genuine laugh.

  “Are you busy, cutie? I'm on break in 15 minutes and I can get someone to cover the rest of my shift,” Richie asked, hopeful.

  “Yeah that's fine.. uh.. have you been working every day? All day?” Eddie asked, concerned.

  “Well the past couple of weeks at least a couple of us from the gang has been visiting family or doin’ some crazy shit so I figured I'd make use of time and make some money, we're doing a road trip in a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh that's cool-”

  “You're invited, if you want, obviously. What better way to celebrate you coming back than a road trip? Ed's, just wait till’ they find out you're back-” Richie cut himself off when he noticed another man walk into the shop and they both decided to end the conversation there so he could order. “Okay hold on I'm gonna take his order, and I'll be out in 10 minutes, you can wait here if you want?”

  “Sounds good,” Eddie couldn't help the smile on his face, it's contagiousness showing in Richie's smile.

  After waiting for a bit, Richie came from the back out of his uniform, a bag on his shoulder, and a rose in his hand. He held it out to Eddie.

  “Do you just, carry flowers with you?” Eddie looked at him curiously.

  “No but I- after I saw you yesterday morning and I passed this one on my way to work, something told me I should grab it.” Eddie took it. “Flowers still get ya goin’?” Eddie punched him in the shoulder.

  “Thanks, Rich.” He smiled.

  “Where to now, spaghetti?” Richie put his arm around Eddie.

  “For 3 glorious years I never had to hear that, don't call me spaghetti!”

  “Okay Eds, answer the question!”

[hiyo-silver]

"What's Up You Guys It's Me, Bdenbrough!" - NEW FRIEND VS OLD FRIEND - WHO KNOWS ME BETTER?

Summary: Bill has Eddie and Beverly on his channel to challenge them to see who knows him better.

Chapter 1 2 3 + ao3

Taglist: @hazelash @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @yooonbum @coffeekaspbrak

Bill decides to get on an uploading schedule. He wants to post every other week on a sunday, giving him Saturday to film and edit. He makes a habit of it, the hardest part is coming up with ideas for his videos, so often they end up being viral challenges that have long past, or tags he hasn’t even gotten tagged in, like his first video.

His titles give him a few more subscibers, “SLIME MAKING”, “THE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE - HYPOTHERMIA?”. He learns to become the king of clickbait. He rises up to 100 or so subscibers in a couple months. It makes him feel on top of the world, like the coolest kid in Derry.

Summer comes and he decides it’s finally a good enough time to introduce his newer friends in a vlog or in another type of video. His audience has met Richie, Eddie, and Stan, but not Beverly or Mike or Ben. He especially wants to introduce Bev, he thinks she’s really pretty, and maybe she’ll be impressed by his whopping 257 followers. Maybe she’d even go to get milkshakes with him, or even get a bag of candy to share.

So he sets out on how to execute his next idea, “Best Friend vs New Friend: Who Knows Me Best?” He enlists Eddie for this one, he knows Richie may be too animated for even YouTube in his fresh out of school haze. Plus it’s good to get Eddie out of the house whenever he can, Sonia is something else.

He pulls the bean bags out of the closet so he can sit on his desk chair between them. He’s excited for this one, he can basically call it a collab, even though Eddie and Bev aren’t necessarily other content creators. He could pretend they are though, even linking their instagrams in the description box. Call them influencers, basically anyone can be one of those these days.

He looks down at his arms, covered in blue and black pen, doodles all down his forearms. He gets bored when he’s planning questions for these, more often than not turning to Google for a lot of them. His left arm is laced with planets and stars, even an attempt at recreating the milky way on his wrist near the root of his hand. He decides not to wash it off, it only adds to his charm.

He awaits the knock on the door, Beverly had said that they would meet up and walk together to his place. His parents work on weekdays and today is a Friday, so it’s perfect for him. He loves the summer, his parents aren’t always around when he’s home, it gives him room to enjoy himself.

He finally does hear the knock of the two of them while he’s propping his tablet up on some books on his desk as a tripod, he had hoped to get one for his birthday but his parents obviously wouldn’t, and they’re a little too expensive for his friend’s style.

He bolts down the stairs with his socked feet, slipping slightly on the corner, almost stubbing his toe on the wood baseboard. He has a bad habit of rushing himself to put out videos, he’s a workaholic on a self inflicted job at the age of twelve.

He’s going to be starting seventh grade next year, he hopes the work that comes of that doesn’t put a damper on his creativity for his channel. His channel is about all that brings him joy when his friends aren’t around. A self sufficient antidepressant. It’s even better when he gets to bring them in for videos.

He opens the door out of breath, pushing his hair back behind his shoulders. It’s getting long, he’ll have to ask for a trim soon. He smiles at them as he takes in gasps of air to control himself better. “Ready to f-f-film?” he asks, still leaning against the doorframe.

“Damn, you’re wheezier than Eddie,” Bev smirks, chuckling as she steps into the threshold of the house, patting him on the back firmly enough to get him to choke. He gives her a smile, his face as red as his hair, as well as hers. They’re the two red head chicks at school, they stick together. Though Bill has always been more shy, Beverly is better at being abrasive in response to the teasing.

“Hey! I r-r-r-ran to let y-you guys in,” He defends, moving out of the way to let Eddie come in as well. “It’s all s-set up upstairs, I have a-all the questions and the props all r-ready,” he says with pride on his face as the shorter boy comes in through the door, wiping off his feet and closing the heavy wood door behind him.

“Sounds good, you’re on, Bev,” Eddie says with his own devilish grin, he plans on winning, he can do it all with his memory. He probably knows everything about Bill there is to know, they’ve been chumming since kindergarten, the age of five all the way to them being twelve now.

They all stomp up the stairs, allowed to be as loud as they want with the lack of parents in the house, the premises all to the kids. Bill plops down on his chair, spinning in a circle happily. Bev and Eddie sit hard in the bean bags, on his left and right sides respectively.

Bill leans forward to start the recording, sitting back in his seat, putting on the usual energy. “What up you g-guys! It’s m-me, Bdenbrough back here with y-your Saturday entert-t-tainment!” he announces with a bright smile. “Here I h-have for you, Beverly and Eddie, the b-best friend vs n-new friend challenge,” He says with a slight smirk, feeling as if he’s got tricks up his sleeve.

Beverly smiles and waves with the tips of her fingers, the gap between her teeth showing through her parted lips, covered in her favorite cherry lip gloss. “I’m Bev,” she introduces, “Basically this one’s twin,” she says, pointing up at Bill in his seat, crossing one of her legs over the other.

Eddie adopts a slightly less nervous expression as the filming actually starts, “I’m Eddie, call me any funky nicknames and I’ll castrate you,” he states, giving the camera a smile that’s almost eerie after what he just said.

“Well! L-let’s get started with the questions I’ve pr-prepared,” Bill says, pulling out his organized filming journal, scanning his eyes over the page of questions, they aren’t too hard, but hopefully just enough so he can claim a true winner to this channel. Or else his clickbait would be even worse.

“First, w-what’s m-my favorite color?” he asks, crossing his own leg over the other, a smug look on his face despite the easiness of the question. He’s saving the big guns for later, giving him the false sense of security.

“Blue!” Bev jumps in before Eddie can. Blue is Bill’s favorite more recently, Eddie was about to say either lime green or purple, those are the colors he’d planned to paint his room a couple months back. He also wanted some wolf posters, but what his mom provided were some ones with bunnies on them. She doesn’t want her daughter to get too rough or aggressive. Bunnies are the perfect role model.

A few more easy questions come, about animals and about what his favorite subject at school was this year, up until he brings up one of the most complicated questions of the game. “W-what am I most scared o-of starting Middle School n-next year?” he asks, a quizzical look even on his own face.

“Uhm…” Eddie starts, cradling his chin in his hand in focus, his eyes nearly piercing the camera with their sharpness. “Having a reputation that’s not what you are?” He guesses, and Bill’s expression softens.

“I’ll take that a-answer. That’s nine for Eddie and e-eight for Beverly,” he says, striking his pen across the page for another talley on Eddie’s side. “That w-was the final question! The rumors are true, b-best friend since kinderg-garten wins!” he smiles, patting Eddie on the shoulder as he smiles.

It is true. He doesn’t want a reputation. He doesn’t want to be seen as girly, he thinks he might like girls which makes him feel weird inside. It makes him shiver with even more fear and excitement when he thinks of Bev. He likes her, but he can’t be gay, he’d be the first one to be outed if he ever uttered a single word about it to anyone.

[eddieeatsass]

ok but like a hanzier propsal fic please? i just need one in my life and im really going down cause i can't find any. ( also smut in it if you're feeling generous hehe )

I’m sorry it took longer than expected to get this to you, life got in the way! But I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the prompt.

Read On AO3

Richie and Mike were an anomaly. A peculiar match that shocked everyone as much as it shocked them themselves. They moved as a unit, despite being so vastly different in all other capacities. Their love is what stitched them together, made them immovable, a constant in everyone’s lives.

They’d gotten together at an early age, the pull between them impossible to ignore. While the rest of the Losers were exploring their hearts, Mike and Richie spent their nights curled up together in the fields at Mike’s farm, watching the stars and making wishes on the ones that shot by.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when they got engaged. Everyone has seen it coming from a mile away. At 25, the pair had been together for nearly 9 years, a decade approaching at light speed to wrap up their adoration for each other in a pretty little bow.

They’d been talking about marriage since they were teenagers, young and naive to the realities of the world outside of high school. They’d thought they could get hitched as soon as they were out of school, settle down in a big house with three dogs, and call it a day. Unfortunately, life had other plans. Finances and secondary education snuck up on them quickly, pulling the wool off their eyes and exposing sensitive nerves to adult life. They adapted, but not without having to make some adjustments to their original plan. A big house became a small off-campus apartment, which they had to share with Stan and Bill just to make rent. Three dogs became one goldfish, which Richie adamantly insisted they name “Spot”. And getting married got put on the back burner, a dream for another time. A time when they weren’t buried in student loans, homework, and minimum wage jobs.

While it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that they got engaged, how they got engaged was a story in itself.

Mike had always been the level-headed part of the twosome, balancing out Richie’s grand imagination and impulsive nature. So, when he decided he wanted to propose, he had to start thinking like his boyfriend. A proposal to Richie couldn’t simply be “level-headed”, it had to match how wild and loud and full of life he was. Mike had mulled over ideas for weeks until he finally admitted he needed to recruit some help, so he went to the only other person who knew Richie as well as he did: Beverly Marsh.

Beverly was, of course, ecstatic to hear that Mike planned on proposing. But she also wasn’t shy to tell him how much his ideas sucked. A walk along the beach, a boat ride, a nature walk; they were all sweet gestures, but they weren’t as memorable as Mike wanted them to be.

Finally, after another week of discreetly texting one another, Beverly and Mike came up with a plan, and a month later he was putting it into action.

It was the 10th of July, the day that Richie had officially asked Mike to be his boyfriend all those years ago. Mike planned a weekend trip for them to visit Derry, catch up with their parents and see how much the town had changed since they’d left. Neither of them had enjoyed living there when they’d been kids but going back had a nostalgic draw that made it seem sentimental. It hadn’t been all bad; long days freckling under the sun at the Quarry, making Eddie squirm as they trudged through the mucky waters of the Barrens, muffled giggles into old books as they tried to hide from Ms. Sally’s shushing at the town’s library. And of course, it’s where they met each other. Where they fell in love.

They’d spent the earlier part of the day at the Tozier residence, visiting with Maggie and Went over brunch. Now, they were at the tail-end of dinner with the Hanlons. Will and Jessica were clearing the table when Jessica spoke up.

“Do you two have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“We were just going to grab a room at the motel down the road-” Richie began to say, before Jessica interrupted him with her tutting.

“Nonsense! Why spend money when you can stay here?”

Mike and Richie exchanged a bashful look, knowing that staying in Mike’s childhood room together with his parents right next door might not be… ideal.

Will chuckled, as if reading their minds. “We’re going out tonight, won’t be back ‘till tomorrow afternoon. We’re going swing dancing in Old Town! We’ll be staying with your aunt Mary overnight.”

Mike’s tense shoulders relaxed at the news that they’d have the house all to themselves for the night. It would make his plan go that much smoother.

Jessica brought out dessert, which Richie devoured in record time, and then they were heading out, leaving Richie and Mike to their own devices.

As Richie set off to shower, Mike checked his watch for the umpteenth time that evening, watching the time closely to make sure he followed his schedule down to the minute. Richie’s shower made them a smidge late, but Mike schooled his features to hide his worry so Richie wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Heya hot stuff.” Mike greeted Richie as he strolled out of the bathroom with steam billowing behind him. He had one towel loosely thrown around his hips and was ruffling up his hair with another. Mike got up from his perch on his bed and strolled towards Richie, meeting him in the middle of the room. He grabbed Richie by the hips and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“Mmm, hi.” Richie whispered against Mike’s lips, a smile curling under the attention.

With a second kiss to Richie’s forehead, Mike pulled himself away.

“So, I was thinking maybe we could walk out to the field and do some stargazing, you know, like we used to.” The suggestion was casual, but Mike’s heart was beating fast. His plan depended on Richie saying yes.

“Yeah sure babe.” Richie responded as he pulled a t-shirt over his wet mop of hair and reached for his boxers. “Just let me get a little more appropriately dressed.” He winked before hopping ungracefully as he pulled on his boxers, tripping slightly but recovering with a charming smile.

Mike’s pulse relaxed immediately, his anxiety being replaced with fondness for this goofy, maladjusted boy he was soon going to propose to.

It took a few more minutes before they were off, hands clasped together as they wandered out into the seemingly never-ending field of the Hanlon’s farm. The night was beautiful, the sky completely devoid of clouds and shining bright with the dim light of the stars.

They walked for a few minutes until the house behind them became part of a separate world, and that’s when Richie saw it.

“Michael!” Richie gasped, as he spotted what was in the distance. They were walking towards a patch of grass covered with a large blanket, surrounded by four lit tiki torches.

Mike couldn’t hold back the grin that split across his face, seeing Richie’s excitement got his own going.

Richie let go of Mike’s hand to sprint the rest of the way to the set-up. When he got there, he noticed there was an abundance of pillows as well as two picnic baskets set aside. Laying down was like resting on a bed of clouds, and he instantly felt all the stress of life evaporating away under the stars.

Mike finally caught up and sat down beside Richie. He looked down at him and couldn’t help but reach a hand out and pet the hair back from Richie’s forehead, letting his fingers linger on his cheek.

“Happy 9 years, my love.” He whispered.

Richie’s eyes flicked their attention to Mike, so much adoration and passion present in those blue pearls.

“Happy 9 years, Mikey.” Richie responded, lifting his hand up to Mikes and lacing their fingers together. He swiftly broke the moment by tugging on Mike’s arm and pulling him down on top of him.

Richie laughed as Mike tried not to crush Richie beneath him as he toppled over. He was still giggling as he brought their lips together, his hands already wandering down the front of Mike’s chest.

Mike had to fight to get his mind and body to comply to the plan he had set up. As much as he wanted to get lost in Richie’s arms, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

So, ignoring Richie’s complaintive whine, Mike rolled off him and towards the baskets he had set aside.

“I don’t want our food to get cold.” Mike used as an excuse. From the basket he procured a tray of chocolate covered strawberries, as well as two champagne flutes along with non-alcoholic champagne. Neither of them really drank, and besides, he wanted to be as lucid as possible for what was about to happen.

He passed the plate off to Richie who grabbed it eagerly, tearing the saran wrap off unceremoniously and beginning his search for the perfect strawberry. Mike poured them both some champagne, taking the time to check his watch again. Eight minutes until the big moment. He took a deep breath before putting the champagne aside and turning back to Richie.

“I found the best one.” Richie exclaimed happily, holding up the biggest strawberry in the pile. It was coated nearly perfectly in chocolate, save for the green stem Richie was holding it by.

“C’mere.” Richie beckoned, setting the tray beside him and scooting closer to Mike.

Mike complied, snuggling close to Richie and handing him one of the flutes.

Richie brought the strawberry up to Mike’s lips, beginning to trace them slowly with the fruit. Richie’s mouth was set tight, but Mike could tell he was trying to hold back laughter.

“Richie this doesn’t-”

“Shhhh.” Richie used the strawberry to quiet him, pressing it more firmly against his lips.

“Let me seduce you.” Richie said in a low attempt at a sultry voice.

Now Mike was also trying not to laugh, his cheeks pulled up into rosy apples as Richie continued his ministrations. Chocolate was melting against Mike’s mouth, giving him the appearance of wearing lipstick. That’s when Richie finally cracked, pulled his hand back and laughing audibly at the mess on Mike’s face.

Mike laughed along, resisting the urge to wipe his mouth right away. Instead, as he’d expected, Richie leaned in after he’d composed himself, and licked the chocolate clean. He finished by pecking Mike innocently before pulling back and finally properly feeding the strawberry to his poor boyfriend.

They continued like that for the next few minutes, laughing and talking, eating the strawberries faster than they probably should and washing down the sweetness with glorified carbonated juice.

Mike got so caught up in the moment that he almost forgot what he was there for, until the loud boom reminded him.

“Fireworks, really? The 4th of July was six days ago!” Richie complained with no real fever. Richie loved fireworks, loved the bright colors and loud noises, loved getting lost in whatever story his brain decided they were telling.

“Let’s watch.” Mike encouraged, taking Richie’s nearly empty flute from him and setting both of theirs back into the picnic basket.

When Mike turned back around, Richie was already laying on his back, his hands folded eagerly on his stomach as his eyes searched the sky for the next show.

Mike lowered himself down beside him, taking a second to memorize the look on Richie’s face at that exact moment.

Another firework exploded above them, accompanied by a quicker burst of a few more. Mike’s gaze stayed on Richie’s face, his hand reaching into his pocket to finger the little ring box he’d been carrying around all day.

Three more fireworks. Richie’s eyes were lit up both with the reflection of the lights, and with that wonder that Mike fell in love with.

Another one.

Then a succession of smaller ones.

And then...

Richie’s eyes were meeting Mike’s, wide and questioning.

Richie’s mouth gaped, words seeming to fail him for the first time in his life.

Above them, the fireworks were quickly disappearing, the fiery words “Richie, Will You Marry Me?” fading into the night’s sky.

“So?” Mike took a deep breath, rolling over on to his side to fully face Richie. His hand pulled the small box out from its confines and he held it up to Richie, popping it open to reveal a delicate gold band.

“What do you say?” Mike’s voice wavered as he waited for a sigh.

“What the fuck.” Richie blurted out, before he started sobbing.

Mike faltered quickly, letting the ring box drop as he prioritized pulling Richie close to his chest.

“Baby, baby I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I-”

A vibration against his chest cut him off. He had to pull away slightly so he could decipher Richie’s words.

“You ruined my plan.” Richie blubbered out again, his tears now juxtaposed by a huge smile that he was trying to disguise as a pout. Mike felt his composure relax. Richie continued without being prompted. “I was going t-to propose next w-weekend.” Richie explained between splutters.

It was Mike’s turn to be speechless now.

“But of course, Mike Hanlon, always the romantic, has to do it on our fucking anniversary.” Richie’s tears were slowing down now, his usual demeanor coming back. “Now I’ll have to see if I can get my deposit back on the horse.”

“Horse…?”

“And I’ll have to call the bakery and cancel the cake order, hopefully the band will be able to find another gig on such short notice, Eddie and Bill are definitely going to have to return their costumes, and-”

“Baby, honey, slow down.” Mike’s gentle hands were cupping Richie’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze.

Richie stopped immediately, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep breath. When his eyes re-opened, they were teary again. “Can I at least say it?”

Mike’s heart felt like it would burst, his love for Richie so palpable in that moment.

“Of course.”

Richie cleared his throat and wiped his eyes as he stood up. He dramatically shook his limbs out one by one, cracking his neck side to side, and then turned back around to face Mike.

“Michael Hanlon. Michael the bicycle. Love of my life. Hopefully one day, bearer of my children. My best friend. My compadre. My-”

“Richie.” Mike cut him off with a laugh.

“Right, right. Sorry. Mike…” Richie got down on one knee, taking Mike’s hand between his own. “Will you marry me?”

Mike’s grin could have rivalled the sun. “Yes. Yesyesyes yes.” Mike rushed out.

“AND THERE WE HAVE IT FOLKS,” Richie let go of Mike’s hand and swiveled on his knees as if to address an invisible audience. He lifted both his hands in triumph. “DERRY’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELORS ARE OFFICIALLY OFF THE MARKET FOR GOOD.”

Mike rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Richie’s torso and pulling him backwards. Richie came crashing down with an eruption of laughter, mixing along with Mike’s own. Mike didn’t waste any time beginning to pepper kisses down Richie’s neck, using his position to pull Richie flush against his chest.

Things heated up quickly. Kisses became more passionate, clothes were shed, and soon the two were left naked under the stars, the kindness of July keeping them warm and the flickering from the tiki torches lighting their hands’ paths. It wasn’t long before Richie was aching for more.

“Mikey…” Richie canted his hips upwards, ushering Mike’s hand, which was gripped around his cock, to move faster.

“Hold on baby, I’ve got you.” Mike twisted his body around uncomfortably to reach for the second picnic basket he’d packed. He opened it up with his free hand, his busy one never ceasing its job, and grabbed for the bottle of lube he’d packed.

The familiar sound of the cap popping open made Richie’s cock twitch.

“Oh my god, you really think of everything, don’t you.” Richie said excitedly.

“One of us has to.” Mike winked.

Richie spread his legs eagerly before Mike even had the chance to pour lube on to his fingers. The anticipation on Richie’s face egged him to move faster, his own eagerness becoming evident.

As Mike poured out a generous amount of the slick liquid into his hand, Richie grabbed one of the extra pillows and tucked it under his lower back, propping himself up on display. Mike nearly salivated at the view, never quite having gotten used to seeing Richie spread out, no matter how many times they did this.

Mike brought his lubricated hand up to Richie’s hole, circling a finger around the puckered muscle, teasing Richie before slipping his digit inside smoothly.

They’d fooled around only a few hours ago, stopping on the side of the road on their drive to Mike’s farm and squeezing into the back seat. Mike had fucked Richie until he’d cried, fingers desperately grabbing at the seats around him for some kind of leverage to ground himself. Richie came all over his shirt, causing them to have to dig their suitcases out of the trunk and wrestle out a clean one for him to change into.

Richie was still deliciously stretched from their afternoon activities, letting Mike slip in a second finger after only a few moments.

“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out bare for me…” Mike praised Richie who was breathing heavily beneath him.

Richie didn’t answer, just pushed his hips towards Mike to get his fingers as deep as possible. Mike found Richie’s prostate and stroked it lightly, eliciting a gorgeous moan.

“You can be as loud as you want.” Mike said, rubbing Richie’s prostate a little harder. “No one will hear you out here.”

It came out as a promise, assurance that he’d get Richie to the point where he couldn’t stay silent even if he tried. It sent goosebumps down Richie’s body.

A third finger was added, the stretch familiar and gentle. Richie felt warm, both from Mike’s body heat and desire kindling inside. They continued like that for a few more minutes, Mike pumping his hand steadily, teasing Richie’s prostate every time he thrust upwards. It was tantalizing.

“Please, Mikey…” Richie pleaded when it finally got to be too much. Mike pulled his hand away, watching Richie’s hole flutter around nothing. It was so pretty he took a moment to lean down and kiss it. Richie gasped at the unexpected contact, grinding his hips down against Mike’s face. Mike indulged him, kissing it with dirty flicks of his tongue. When he pulled away his face shone with lube.

“I could spend all night eating you out,” Mike stated, grabbing the lube and squirting a little extra into his hand. “but right now, I’d rather do this.” He rubbed the excess lube across his cock, coating it generously before lining himself up with Richie’s hole. He wasted no time before pushing in, shivering as the tightness enveloped him.

“Fuuuuuck-” Richie groaned wantonly.

Mike bottomed out, shifting his gaze from where they were connected and following the planes of Richie’s torso until their eyes met. Richie had his lower lip tucked between his teeth, as if trying to hold himself back, but upon meeting Mike’s gaze he let it drop.

“I can’t wait to be your husband.” Richie said sincerely.

“Me neither.” Mike smile tenderly. “But I am glad I get to show you off as my fiancé for a while.”

They both laughed, the movement jostling Mike inside Richie and reminding them of their current situation.

Mike pulled out slowly before easing himself back in at the same pace. He kept that rhythm as he continued.

“Everyone’s going to be jealous I get to marry the most affectionate, effervescent, passionate man in the whole world.”

“I’m the one who’s lucky,” Richie panted out between slow thrusts. “Getting to marry the most open-minded, kind-hearted, and hottest guy in town.”

Mike let out a burst of laughter, letting his head drop to Richie’s chest as a blush rose to his cheeks.

“I’m farthest from the hottest. That would be-”

“You’re right, it’s definitely Bill.” Richie interrupted with a breathless giggle.

Mike drew his head back and gasped dramatically.

“I was going to say you but���” Mike pretended to contemplate it. “Yeah, Denbrough could get it.”

They shared a smile. Mike loved Richie's ability to make any moment playful, even moments when Mike was buried to the hilt within him. This charismatic man, with the imagination of a child and the whimsy to match.

Mike picked up his pace, spurred on by his adoration, set on making Richie feel as good as he possibly could. The mewls he got in response were encouraging, so he continued swiveling his hips and propelling himself deeper with every thrust.

“That feel good, baby?” Mike purred into Richie’s ear, nipping his earlobe before descending to his neck.

A litany of curses was all Richie could manage in response, feeling himself climbing towards his peak.

Soon, curses were being split up by warning attempts. “Mike- fuckfuckfuck- I’m almost- holy shit yes don’t stop- I’m going to- jesus fucking christ-”

Mike knew that he was hitting the perfect spot. He didn’t dare move, no matter how much his arms were quivering, or his legs threatened to give out. He pumped forward once, twice, three times, and then the empty field was being filled with a throaty scream.

Richie’s fingernails left crescent moons where they dug into Mike’s arms, holding on for his dear life as he felt the waves of pleasure nearly drown him.

The feeling of Richie clenching around his cock did him in. As Mike joined Richie in his climax, he forced himself to keep his eyes open, never wanting to miss a moment of watching Richie come undone. He was so beautiful; pale skin, tinted pink from exertion and nearly transparent under the moonlight, thickly rimmed glasses sitting askew on his face, cum spread across his chest and pooling into his bellybutton. He looked so fragile, so small underneath Mike’s hold. Vulnerable in a way only Mike would ever see him.

Eventually they both regained their composure along with their breath. Mike pulled out of Richie slowly, watching as his own fluid follow him out of the tight confine, leaking onto Richie’s thighs and the pillow below him. Mike wanted to clean it up, dive in with his mouth and get Richie to cum all over again, but he knew there would be time to do that later.

They did, after-all, have forever ahead of them.

[impishnature]

A Step In The Wrong Direction

AO3

Damned if I Do…, Better Off Without, Sentimentality

Rating: T+

Summary: Grifting Stars AU. After thirty years of work, thirty years of effort, Stan is finally ready to open the portal. Unfortunately for him, the world has never been fair. Part 4: The possibilities were endless- so how did things go so wrong? How did the chance of a lifetime break things so effortlessly?

AN: I am so sorry this has taken so long. It was first drafted so long ago that I’ve had to reread and reread it because I wasn’t happy with the writing style anymore. Hopefully it’s better now c: I’m happier with it now. <3

Part 4: A Step Too Far

"So, that's it, is it?"

"That's it." Ford huffed out a disbelieving noise, shock and awe mingling in equal measures. He regarded the small item that was sat between them, innocuous and unassuming, his mind unusually blank in its wake. Both of them couldn't help hesitantly watching it with a healthy dose of incredulous scepticism, almost afraid it would vanish as soon as they took their eyes off of it. Afraid that given half the chance the universe would decide that they weren't allowed this moment of good fortune and swallow it whole right before their eyes.

Though, perhaps, that wasn't quite true for both of them. Stan seemed to be scrutinising it with more scepticism and doubt than he himself was, mistrustful that the answer to everything, really was sat within reaching distance. His eyebrows were deeply furrowed over a thoughtful gaze, his lips a thin deliberate line as if he wanted to ask more but didn't want to ruin things, didn't want to start a fight or accidentally point out some unseen flaw in their still unspoken scheme. The spark of hope in his eyes wasn't quite as bright as Ford felt it should have been, considering his earlier explanation of the situation.

In fact, it had taken a lot for him not to just snatch it from him as Stan threw it thoughtlessly from hand to hand, not quite knowing the full extent of the item that he had managed to procure for them. Though even with the knowledge Stan didn't seem quite on board with it all.

It looked... too ordinary. Like it wasn't the answer to all their questions wrapped up in an unassuming shape.

He could understand why Stan wasn't ready to hope just yet.

It just sat there, metal on wood, a modest, practical trinket now relegated to the small bedside cabinet, sat between two equally small and simple beds that they had found for the night.

Stan had almost laughed the first time they had found themselves at a place like this. Shook his head, that even across the multiverse, some things never did change, and a motel room would always be a motel room no matter how far and wide you travelled.

Just like how a small tape measure should always just be a small tape measure.

But Ford never worked in 'usually's and 'always's. Not in that sense at least. For as long as he could remember, he'd been more interested in the unique and the anomalous. The coincidences and the random chance and all the little indescribable miracles that lingered in between.

And that small, unassuming tape measure really was the answer to everything. If they used it right.

They could go back home.

He could defeat Bill.

He could finally rest, back in his home dimension, knowing that Bill would never darken his doorstep again.

"Twelve months..."

Ford blinked as his brother spoke up again, after what felt like an age of silence permeating the room. He restlessly twisted some small item Ford couldn't discern between his hands, whatever he had found to take the tape measures place now that Ford had managed to pry it away from him and set it somewhere safe. "What?"

"Just... thinking." Stan shrugged, leaning back against the wall, resting his head back against it to look up at the ceiling, arms moving to circle his knee. "Twelve months and we might be able to fix things, I just- it feels like I've been here with you forever, but it also feels like no time has passed at all, you know?"

"Yeah." Ford settled down, eyes sweeping round the room, taking in their meagre belongings and the small city outside the window. It had been good to have Stan around, time had gone so much faster than when he'd been all on his own. The nights hadn't been quite so dark, nor as perilous with another person to keep watch, his brother's soft humming enough to keep even the ghosts of the past away. Nor had the days been so monotonous and routine. No longer did he become lost inside his own head in the middle of nowhere when there was another abrasive voice to break the patterns. The usual cycles that his mind whipped through crushed quickly by a half mumbled curse or joke from his peripheral.

Not that that had happened straight away, of course. They both knew that. The tense silences and fizzling atmosphere, cold and unforgiving, were hard to truly forget. So maybe it had taken some time, and a few catalytic catastrophes, for them to slip back into old habits but once they had- it almost felt like Stan had never left his side at all. Once the connection reformed, solidified and took root, they might as well have always been travelling like this. They'd always said they would after all, it just felt like they were fulfilling that promise, albeit a few decades late.

It felt easy and simple now. It just made sense to have his brother by his side again and to put the past behind them.

Maybe it was because they were so close to fixing everything, maybe it was because he knew that there was a chance they could start afresh, but the feeling of forgiveness that had been slowly washing over him, felt even stronger now.

Maybe it was because he never thought about the future as a tangible reality anymore. The present was where he needed to be, and with Stan- it had just become a given to forget the past and forget the future and just live for a while. Take what they had whilst they had it and stick to having comfort and happiness, if only for a short while.

It really was nice to have his brother back, once he ignored everything that had happened before between them.

But... the future didn't seem quite so far away anymore though.

And he had Stan to thank for that.

He'd stopped thinking about going home a long time ago. After a while in the multiverse, his thoughts had turned to survival and to taking Bill down once and for all. If he never got home, well, that was the price he'd willingly pay to make sure Bill never got to see that dimension as well.

But now with the time tape in their hands, and hindsight for once in his favour, he knew what mistakes he had made that first time he'd fought Bill. He could do better this time, weigh up all the variables and think up all the options. He'd make sure he defeated him and then if he could- he'd go home with Stan.

He'd meet the kids he'd heard so much about.

The trickle of hope and excitement at meeting the pair of twins had infiltrated his system, had made it hard to think of a future where he was stuck on this side of the portal without a deep set sorrow burrowing into his heart.

After all these years, he wanted to go home again.

He couldn't seem to stop the feeling, could only let it bloom and blossom and grow. It strengthened his resolve to beat Bill, kept him thinking of the future beyond that instance instead of it being the defining moment that would draw everything to a reassuring close.

He hated the feeling as much as he in turn loved and rejoiced it, knowing full well that if this didn't work, if things didn't turn out how they planned then-

No. He couldn't think like that. Maybe yesterday, maybe even earlier that morning he could have crushed the hope of meeting them, and let himself peacefully spend his days with his brother by his side, travelling the multiverse for the rest of their lives. But now they had the answer, that one final ingredient that put their plan into motion.

And it was a pleasant surprise to realise that for once it wasn't just the thought of defeating Bill that was pushing him onward.

They would succeed- they could succeed, now that they were here at this very moment.

"I still don't understand how I managed this in a year when you didn't in thirty."

Ford snorted at Stan's cheeky smirk, childish and proud as he teased his brother across the room. "You'll have to forgive me for not willingly instigating a fight with the time police before. Which I hasten to add- was still dangerous and downright reckless, and we may need to stay hidden for a while once they realise what you took."

Stan huffed out a laugh as he shook his hand flippantly. "Please, they were not the first nor will they be the last creature that I pickpocket. They'll never suspect a thing, even when they realise that- thingamajig is gone."

"Time tape." Ford couldn't help but correct him. He rolled his eyes, trying for exasperated and tired of his antics, though the grin on his face said otherwise. "And is that so? You know, you needn't be quite so proud about how good you are at stealing."

"No?" Stan's eyebrows rose higher as he sat back up, eyes gleaming in amusement. "Got us what we needed, didn't it?"

"I'm sure there was another way-"

"Yeah. One that would have taken forever." Stan flopped back dramatically, arms out to his sides, still smiling away brightly. "You said you needed one of those thingamajigs and I got you one. Case closed."

He was doing it on purpose. Ford bit down on the correction, that sat begging to be released, on the tip of his tongue.

"I said it would be good if we could get hold of one, not that you should steal one!" Ford's voice snapped, a high pitch disbelieving crack that made Stan laugh all the harder. But it was true! Sure he might have wistfully stared at the time tape on the belts of the two officers walking past, and yes, he might have made a comment or two about how having one would open up a route to get them home- but it had only been conjecture! He hadn't expected Stan to slip away from him as soon as he realised what he was talking about and start a fight in the middle of the small street they'd been in. Hadn't expected as he stood aghast, wondering what on earth he was doing, that his brother was somehow orchestrating the entire street like a giant puppet show. Setting up a fight, agitating the participants just enough, that it would continue on without him and pocketed the time tape he had wanted while everyone's attention was diverted elsewhere.

Ford wasn't even truly sure he'd seen the exact moment when Stan had stolen it, completely flummoxed by his brother's antics until a few streets later when he had shown him his spoils.

His brother never did cease to amaze him.

He was proud, of course he was.

...He wasn't about to admit it though. Not yet at least.

But Stan did have a point. He'd never have gotten what they needed that quickly, though he did try to do things far more honestly it seemed. Which was a mildly disconcerting thought, considering he wasn't sure where his moral compass lay anymore.

"So? Do I get a thank you? A compliment? Anything at all-"

"Well done." There was a sarcastic tinge to Ford's words though the amusement that also flooded out with it seemed to eclipse the moment. Stan puffed up where he sat, grin getting wider and wider with every passing second,  and Ford couldn't help but dig a little back to stop him from bragging too much in the near future. "They'll figure out sooner or later that it's missing though."

"Ehh." Stan shrugged, relaxing easily, arms crossed behind his head as he settled. "We'll be long gone by then. Besides, it's not like we need to keep it. Once we're done with it, we can leave it behind, right? They can pick it up themselves without us being around for the consequences."

Ford hummed thoughtfully, relaxing himself slightly as his mind began to spin with the possible outcomes, synapses snapping after the brief lull the initial find had caused. "I guess... that will probably give us only the one shot at the attempt though- if we're thinking of leaving behind the time tape, that is." He tapped his fingers against his leg in time with the thoughts bubbling up behind his eyes. "Though, you're right, it would be the safer option. I wouldn't want to relax, thinking we were home safe and sound, only to get rounded up by the time police for globnar- what? Why are you smiling like that?"

Stan's smile twitched again, eyes alight with mischief and stifled chuckles. "Oh, I don't know. I think it might just be the amount of times you've said 'time police' and 'time tape'. I mean it didn't make a whole lot of sense the first time you told me, but every time you say it, it's like the words lose even more meaning." He shook his head. "I mean time police, really?"

Ford raised a haughty eyebrow. "You're completely fine with the idea of time travel but not with the idea of an organisation to keep time travellers in check?"

"Yeah- OK, maybe it makes sense when you put it that way- but with all that time on their hands you think they'd come up with a better name than time police."

"I also said the word 'Globnar' and you're taking offence at 'time police'?"

"Yeah, well- at least that sounds alien."

"...Of course it does." Ford chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "As fun as this is, we should start thinking about this seriously. One shot doesn't give us a lot of leeway even if we do now have the means to go back- why are you still smiling like that?" The endearment was fast becoming vexed exasperation as his brother continued to smile away softly as if they were merely talking about which direction they would head next, not the entire fate of them getting home in one piece, after almost a year of assuming their chances of doing so were minuscule at best.

"Nothing." Stan shrugged again, still leaning nonchalantly against the wall. "Just, wouldn't be the first time I've played to those odds. One shot to get through- I'm happy with those odds, they don't worry me as much as they probably should. But, any shot is better than no shot at all, right?"

"I... I guess?" Ford blinked owlishly, unable to really push through Stan's fizzling optimism. "That doesn't mean we shouldn't take this seriously."

"Oh, I'm taking this very seriously." Stan shifted, his posture suddenly more straight backed and focused in a way Ford hadn't been expecting and made him shift back as well, abruptly uneasy by the motion. "We've got one shot? One shot to fix everything?"

There was an anxious heat to the air as Stan's focus locked on to him, ready for an answer. There was something brewing on the horizon with that gaze, but he couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't understand where exactly the conversation was leading. All he knew was that something was amiss, some possibility that he hadn't accounted for and that alone set off an alarm bell at the base of his skull. "Yes? I mean- sort of. Yes. This gives us the means to that. We can take ourselves back in time with this. And then from that moment on, it's up to us to do better with the second chance we've been given."

"We need to make it count then."

"Yes." Ford nodded, hands quickly grabbing his journal out of his pocket to start bullet pointing ideas. "Exactly. We need to make this count, so we should start drawing up plans now- bounce back theories and flaws- every detail could make or break this plan- so we need to be ready for anything. And I mean absolutely anything, we need to prepare for every possibility." He scratched as his chin with his pen, eyes thoughtfully staring at the blank page. "I guess, that means it might still be a few weeks until we're fully prepared but better safe than sorry, and- heh-" Ford stifled a soft half smile. "Guess we have all the time in the world, when you think about it like that, right?"

He'd hoped for something. Some kind of chuckle or snort. Something to alleviate the tension that was still emanating from across the room. Break the ice that was forming and get them back on track towards that hopeful path they were now journeying on. His attempts at humour weren't great, he knew that, he hadn't really needed to brush up on socialising in a very long time, but Stan appreciated him doing so, even when they needed to be somewhat serious. And if it got the conversation back on track into familiar territory then he'd compromise to get his brother on side.

Except- Stan didn't seem to hear him.

Or at least he didn't hear that last part at least.

A hand suddenly entered his field of vision, closing the book in his hands without preamble before pulling back.

"There's no need for all that, Sixer."

"No ne- how could you possibly think there's no need?!" Ford's head snapped back to his brother's, who held his ground firm and tried not to flinch in the wake of his expression, though Ford could see the visceral recoil he tried so hard to mask. He knew his words were sharp, heated by annoyance and confusion, but he couldn't pull back and look at the scene objectively when Stan was acting so strange. "What possible reason in the entire multiverse would make you decide that we can just wing this and come out the other side completely fine considering we only have the one chance?"

"Because I already know exactly what we need to do."

Ford stared at him, face and voice deadpan in disbelief. "Oh, really? Do tell."

"It's simple, really. You take that tape and you go all the way back to thirty- thirty one years ago."

"I- what? That's..."

"It makes the most logical sense, right? We cant go back in time to before that because we're on the wrong side of the portal. And I know for a fact I don't get the portal open for thirty years so..."

"No. That's- no, it wouldn't work."

"What wouldn't work? You go back thirty years to when you first went through and go back through the portal at that point. Like it never happened."

"But it did happen."

"No. No, we can change that." Stan reached forward and grabbed the tape, before shuffling to crouch in front of Ford, pushing it into his hands without hesitation. Ford fumbled to keep a hold of it before it fell to the floor, not expecting the sudden gift. "We have this. So we can change all that, right? We can fix it."

"It doesn't work like that." Ford mumbled, his shoulders sagging as the dots finally connected. He tried to put the tape back in it's place but Stan was having none of it, tightening his hands around Ford's to keep him where he was.

"How do you know? How will we know if we don't try? Maybe- maybe this is our chance. Maybe this way you never get stuck over here in the first place and-"

"It doesn't work like that!" Ford shoved him away, the force of his words exploding out of him as he wrenched himself from Stan's grasp and stood up all in one fluid movement, the tape dropping to the bed without a thought.

Stan stumbled back with the force, the back of his knees hitting the other bed and he fell back into his seated position. He scowled deeply, crossing his arms as Ford began to pace. "Alright, smart guy, tell me how it works then. Or how this wouldn't work. Cause right now I think it's the best plan we've got."

Ford growled, mind sparking to life at the challenge. His free hand went to his hair, running through it in agitation as he continued to pace. "This is absurd, preposterous- and to think, you actually think it's the best plan we have." He raised his hand up as Stan went to interject, eyes sharp and narrowed as his head snapped towards him. "No. Let me speak."

"Well, get on with it already."

Another strangled noise escaped Ford, frantic irritation bubbling through his veins. He needed to make Stan understand. "Fine. That- Firstly..." He hit his fist into his palm, trying to make sense of all the strands of thought that wouldn't weave together into a cohesive sentence. "Ok, let's get this straight. You think that going back thirty years and dropping back into our dimension won't have any repercussions?"

"Reper-whatnows?"

"Repercussions- consequences!" Ford's arms flailed wildly as he went. "You don't think we'd give your younger self a heart attack, dropping back through the portal, having aged thirty years?"

"Oh- I guess I thought-"

"What? That we'd magically de-age as well? Nope, that doesn't happen. Otherwise time travellers wouldn't be able to travel outside of their life expectancy or run the risk of becoming children again by going backwards." There was a sliver of satisfaction as Stan's mouth snapped shut and his face twisted thoughtfully in response to his arguments. "And that's another thing. You."

"What about me?"

"There'd be two of you. In the same time stream. That's a paradox waiting to happen."

"Implying that I was thinking of coming back with you."

"Of course you'd be- wait, you weren't thinking of coming back with me?"

Time came to a sudden jarring halt.

Ford's chest felt like his heart might have just shrunk a couple of sizes in response to the words, his breath caught somewhere in between. It had become a lead ball, every pulse an ache that rattled through his rib cage. The mere thought of what Stan was planning- was even suggesting-

Stan's eyes widened and he could only assume some of the pain had shown on his face because he suddenly couldn't seem to look at him. His gaze shot down to his own hands, gripping tightly at his knees as he sat there.

You could have heard a pin drop, the tension so unimaginable as Ford waited for a response that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

He thought they'd gotten over this hurdle. Stan had promised.

"I- well, you know? You're right. I'm already over in that dimension all the way back then. I just thought- I've had close to sixty years over there, whereas you only got near thirty. So if I could- give you those years back, that is... well, staying over here alone would be worth that."

Ford could feel the forlorn hope pulsing off his brother in waves. It was bitter and tired, and full of wishes that he knew must have accumulated over the years.

But that didn't make the option anymore viable.

Wishing it into existence wouldn't make it a reality.

That knowledge didn't make it any less harder to dispute it though, any less difficult to stop Stan's hopeful wishes in their tracks.

"Stan, I get it, I do. But it-"

"It doesn't work like that. I get it, you already said. But you need to explain, really explain, why it wouldn't work if you want me to actually believe you."

Ford stopped pacing as if the action physically pained him to halt. He grimaced, running a hand through his hair once more as he sat down opposite Stan. He felt a gaze burning deep into his skull as he glanced at his own hands. "OK. Right, let's take a step back here- take out the emotion of the situation." He ignored the high pitch note his brother made to that remark. "Just- hear me out. Please. Look, you being here, right at this very moment, shows that in our timeline it took thirty years for the portal to reopen, correct?" He waited for an affirmative grunt before he continued. "Now, I know a time machine sounds like the answer to everything but- think about it, OK? For one, I'll still be pushing sixty, I won't go back to the age I should have been at the time- heck, your younger self might not even think it's me-" Another strangled noise made him hesitate before plodding on regardless. "But that's only the start of the problems. That's thirty years, Stan. Thirty years of choices that I shouldn't have been able to make. Do you have any idea what I could do to that world? What I could change?"

Stan snorted, the sound humourless and derisive. "You're a genius, that's for sure. But I don't think even you can cause that much damage."

Ford stared at him, abject horror plastered across his face. "Stan, I almost caused the end of the world."

"You telling me you'd try and do it again?"

"Of course not." Ford snapped, shaking his head, hands tangling tight in his hair, tugging in frustration, as he tried to get his point across. "But going back at that time- I could change your fate entirely." He really didn't like how that remark was met with silence, an uncaring, raised eyebrow all his brother gave him as he stared back defiantly. "Would you continue working on the portal if I was there? Would I even let you? What would happen if I was there at a time I shouldn't be. There's just- too many variables, too many offshoots that might happen that never should have. Me being there changes everything. Maybe not on a cosmic scale. But still, thirty years of decisions changed is not something to be trifled with."

"What's the point of a time machine if you can't fix things though?"

Ford dropped his head into his hands, groaning deeply. Why wasn't he getting it? "It's not about fixing things, Stan. It's about breaking things even further. For example- this entire idea is a paradox in and of itself." He looked through his fingers at his brother, his face still twisted stubbornly against his arguments. "In this scenario there are two fixed points in time. The time thirty odd years ago and the one only a year ago. These two points have happened in our lifetimes and there are people on both sides of the portal who are aware of that. So, if I were to go back, and you were to stop working on the portal, you would never have done the things that led up to this moment in time. If you didn't work on the portal for thirty years then you wouldn't have fallen through. And if you hadn't fallen through, you wouldn't have gotten us the time tape in the first place- you see? Do you get what I'm trying to say? Forget worrying about the time police coming after us for a stolen time tape, we'll be in clear violation of every rule they have about time travel whether we still have it on us or not."

"If that's the case how can we use it at all?" Stan leaned forward, his eyes sharp and pained, a disappointed anger that he was trying hard to hold back on. "Tell me what was even the point in grabbing it? Because right now it's just starting to look more and more like a useless piece of junk." He rolled his eyes as Ford made a strangled noise in disagreement. "What? Why would your idea work but not mine? What's so different about one moment in time vs the other?"

"Because nothing in our lifetimes so far has proven that this doesn't work. It's- we're creating a bubble, or a loop essentially instead of a complete and utter paradox. Nothing has changed, we still both spent a year together but going back in time means we can jump back through the portal at the time you fell through and have a chance at beating Bill. We haven't seen that demon since, which believe me is strange in and of itself, so I can only assume that it may be due, in part, to this plan succeeding."

"That's- you have nothing at all that points to that-"

Ford couldn't help the soft hysterical puff of laughter, hands dragging down his face. "You? You're asking me for evidence? After just making me explain in detail why your plan wouldn't work?"

"I'm just saying- you have no more idea that your plan would work against mine."

"I do! I just explained that-"

"Yeah, I get it! We might cause a paradox, alright." Stan shrugged. "But- we should still give it a try, right?"

"Are you even listening? Do you know what causing a paradox does to the very fabric of time and space?"

"Yeah but you can't be sure we'd cause one. Isn't there enough of a chance that it wouldn't do that? You said we've got one chance to fix everything and the best bet would be-"

"Oh! For crying out loud- you can't just magic away your mistakes!"

He hadn't meant to snap.

Ford found himself on his feet again before he'd even noticed he'd moved, the words bursting out of him to crack and echo around the room like a thunderous storm cloud.

It felt like it as well, bubbling and brewing inside him, a tempest of irritation and concern and all the things in between. He hated that Stan thought he could and would leave him behind without hesitation, he hated that he had resigned himself to living out his days here alone when he didn't have to, when they could both go back together and stop thinking about the past altogether if he'd only listen to him. And at the same time there was a bitter resentment swirling through it all, that dark heated anger that had begun to curdle and vanish since they had become acquainted again. It was reforming deep within his heart, each beat another layer that he was twisting around it into a shell. Stan had ruined his shot to finally be free of Bill, and he wanted him to just leave it be now he had a second chance? To go back all those years ago and pretend none of this had ever happened?

Pretend that by doing this in hindsight, everything was suddenly, miraculously, OK?

It was like sticking a plaster over a fatal wound. Like pretending they were back on solid ground when actually the world could fall apart around them at a moments notice.

Maybe they hadn't made any progress at all, maybe they'd both just been denying the logical truth that they were both still the same people they'd always been. Desperately pretending that the bond between them hadn't been irrevocably broken.

Fix things? How would this course of events ever fix things?

And the real crux of it all, the real deal breaker that made his blood boil and his words sharp as knives was the fact that Stan wasn't listening to him.

For whatever reason his brother wouldn't, or couldn't listen to him.

And every terrible memory, every awful moment they had shared was sliding to the forefront of his mind and reminding him that when Stan didn't listen to him things went catastrophically wrong.

"I know but... If you can go back to thirty years ago then..." Stan gulped, his words soft and hushed against Ford's outburst. "None of this has to happen. S-So if we can just get you back there, then it's like nothing ever-"

"But it did happen!" And with that, something broke inside him. His words flowed without thinking, all the anger, all the pain- any filter that he had gained over the months torn away as his words reverberated off the walls.

"It did happen, Stan. You pushed me through the portal. And you've got to live with that." He was too far gone to care about the way Stan flinched at the words, too busy making sure that this course of action was stopped in it's tracks now. "We have to live with that. It happened and that's all there is to it." His hands tightened to fists as his words became more heated, vicious and pointed to cut any more arguments in their place. He could feel blunt fingernails scratching into his palms, steeling him further to what had to be said, what had to be done. "I've done many terrible things this side of the portal. Many good things as well, but mostly I did what I had to to survive. Whatever it took, I had to survive- and no amount of going back in time will change that! And I don't want to change that. You know why? Because no matter how much I regret my actions, I know I have to live with them. That they happened, and they happened because of me, and me alone. And I've come to terms with that." He took a shuddering breath, one filled with regrets but resolve too. "I've had to. I've come to terms with the mistakes I've made and dealt with the consequences. I've moved on- maybe one day you'll manage to do the same." His fingernails began to stab in deeper, bleeding the anger out of him as his words ignited once more. "Maybe one day you'll actually realise that you made mistakes and that no amount of denying they happened is ever going to make them just disappear! Because they won't. You can't. And you need to deal with the consequences."

He was panting by the end of his outburst, emotionally spent and tired beyond belief. The exhaustion bled through his final remark, bitter and sarcastic. "So, no, we can't go back to thirty years ago and fix everything."

"...Deal with the consequences?"

"Yes." Ford frowned at the cold, dark voice emanating from Stan, his brother's head bowed down away from him.

"Deal with the consequences? You don't think I did that? Every single day?" Stan looked up at him then, eyes sparking with venomous disbelief before they shut down entirely. It was like a dark cloud spread across his face, a shadow where his emotions had once been, resting bare and blank for anyone to see. "Of course not. Of course you think that I'm just- doing this for myself. No, couldn't be that I wanted you to live the life I'd taken away from you!" His teeth bared, a snarl filled with malicious disappointment. "I get it. What I did still happened, I'm a terrible person- fine. But this wasn't about that. This was about you. This was about you getting a second chance, alright?"

Ford's shoulders slumped, his heart heavy. His anger had been doused, leaving him cold and hollow in it's wake. "We have to-"

"Deal with the consequences and move on? Yeah, I heard you the first time." Stan scoffed, voice still lacking that tone that made it sound like him. Ford shuddered, his mistakes thrown before him in stark clarity as he realised that Stan's response reminded him of another time-

That moment just after he'd made a fatal error, when he'd pushed his brother away from him and he'd connected with a heated console.

That moment Stan decided he wasn't worth his time anymore, when he'd shut down and told him that if he cared more about his research then he could do without him as a brother.

He hadn't meant to hurt him- not again- Ford blinked as the full gravity of what he'd said hit him, all those things that had tumbled out in anger because Stan just wouldn't listen.

He hadn't meant them- not really, not like that- Of course he knew, of course he understood why Stan was doing this-

"Move on? When have you ever moved on?" The words were laced with a bitter tang, a sour note that dripped from ever single poisonous syllable and straight into Ford's heart. "Even after all this time, I bet the thing you're most angry about is that blasted science fair project, isn't it? And believe me, I dealt with the consequences of that- ten years I spent without a family- without a home, because of that mistake. So don't you dare lecture me about dealing with consequences, I've been doing it all my life."

"Stan-"

Stan held up his hand, cutting of his retaliation before it had even truly begun. It felt like Stan might punch him again like last time or maybe shout and scream back at him in equal measures to his own earlier fury, but instead his face stayed emotionless, cold and hollow as he stood up quietly. "No. Screw this- Screw you. I'm done. Do whatever you want to do. Go ahead, knock yourself out. We both know you always know what's best for everyone anyway. Don't let me get in your way." And with that he walked away towards the door, slowly and deliberately, without a second glance back at him.

"Don't-"

The door to their motel room fell back into place with a soft click, leaving Ford completely and utterly alone for the first time since his brother had fallen through the portal at his feet.

The words caught in his throat, tired and dejected as the room began to darken around him.

He almost couldn't believe that less than an hour ago they had been laughing together.

That less than an hour ago, he wouldn't have believed an argument was on the horizon, just waiting for it's moment to strike.

"...I'm sorry."

The darkness claimed the words, scattering them to the winds and into the night sky, for no one else to hear.

When Ford woke up, Stan was already awake, already preparing for whatever the day threw at them with the practised ease they had built over the last year.

The only problem was that he was going through the motions absolutely silently.

There was no grumbling, no groans about old man pains, or chipper whistling tunes designed purely to give him grief and wake him from his slumber.

No there was just... quiet, no sibling banter, no mocking jokes.

Just- silence, cold and solid a wall that he wasn't sure how to breach.

So he didn't.

Instead he outlined his plan, calmly and collectedly. Made sure that every detail was there, every possible outcome thought of throughout a night of tossing and turning, and wondering where his brother had got to, spurring him on to make sure that there were no arguments this time. That everything made logical sense and worked well, anything in an attempt to make his brother see reason and maybe accept that his idea had been less than foolproof the night before.

He didn't know if he had been successful or if Stan just didn't care anymore.

Stan didn't argue with him. Just nodded, listened quietly to his entire plan before collecting his belongings ready for them to be out on the road again.

There was no emotion on his face, no defiance, no stubborn resistance, just... acceptance.

Ford had never thought he'd hate his brother listening to him without argument until that moment.

The silence grated on him far quicker than he could possibly have imagined.

The time tape burned a hole in his pocket, the chance to change the conversation they'd had the night before right there for the taking.

He bit down on the urge as Stan nodded at him to take the lead, all that he got in acknowledgement really that he was ready to do what had to be done. Ford nodded back in kind, trying to fill the empty spaces with conversation as they left, trying his best to get back to where they'd been before, only to be thwarted by his brother responding in single word answers wherever possible.

It hurt. It hurt more than he cared to admit, to think just how far their progress had deteriorated the night before.

And it was ironic really, how much he didn't want to deal with this- the consequence of his actions.

But to act on that notion, to turn back time and change things. After lashing out as hard as he had...

The hypocrisy was almost blinding, itching guiltily away at the back of his skull at the mere thought.

...At least Stan no longer wanted to force the issue, at least this way they really could get the best possible outcome available to them.

At least this way he could take down Bill without any complaints.

Ford shook the terrible idea from his head, the time tape momentarily forgotten, as he steeled himself, the thought of defeating Bill at the forefront of his mind once more.

He had bigger things to concern himself with.

Making amends with Stan could wait.

[a-million-stories-for-you-blog]

Stanford Pines Application: Accepted

Name/Alias: Rosenthorne (Or Jess or Thorne)

Preferred Pronouns: She/her/They/Them

Age: 29

Time Zone: Central

Discord name: *Private* (since you already know who it is 8U)

Triggers: Not much. Bit of a crime buff so I’ve seen/read a few morbid things. Or a lot. Don’t like feet.

Personal/About Yourself: I can be nice and squeaky clean or I can be downright morbid and not so clean. Depends on the situation. I’m a stickler for canon when it comes down to it. Not much for romance but I can write for it when the mood allows. I have written a LOT of smut in my day though. I love the strange, the unique, dark humor, dark stuff in general.

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Character Name: Stanford Filbrick Pines

Headcanon Age: Young to Adult (But like 15 minutes older than Stan XD)

Headcanons About Character:

-Asexual, aromantic. This is mainly for the fact that in Journal 3 he wrote that he found ‘romance more baffling to him than the greatest mysteries of the universe’.  If that doesn’t scream asexual, I don’t know what does.

-Despite being asexual, he is very touch starved. He wants people to talk to him. He doesn’t mind hugs, holding hands, platonic cuddles, laying side by side while talking about anything really (it doesn’t have to be science based), etc, from those who are very close to him. He will always do what he can for those who mean a lot to him.  Any unsolicited touching without his acknowledgement of who it is will usually end with someone’s arm twisted behind their back and on their stomach on the floor out of reflex.

-Has a hard time opening up to people and is still learning on how to do so. This is the result of being viciously bullied growing up with Stan as his only friend. This makes being touch starved even worse.

-He did love DDMD in middle school on up and tried to join the local clubs full of other nerds who adored the game, however he was shunned and avoided like the plague due to his extra fingers. Undeterred, Ford continued to make OCs and strategies in hopes that one day he’d have friends to play it with.

-He would quickly finish his tests in school and, instead of turning it in, ‘accidentally’ leave it somewhere that Stan could cheat off him. While Stan did this, Ford would use this time to draw or read paranormal books.

-Terrified of swimming in open water at a young age, opposite of Stan’s fear of heights. He slowly grew accustomed to the idea of sailing when Stan started to weave the idea of adventures on the high seas. He did have a fascination with boats despite his fear and he had tried learning to swim in a community pool, making him a mediocre swimmer.  After he arrived in Gravity Falls, he included swimming in the lake as part of his exercise regimen. He had hoped to swim the areas Nessie or Ogopogo had been rumored to be.

-After Ford closed the curtains on Stan when he was kicked out, Ford sunk to his knees and cried while hugging a pillow. Time was lost to him (he spent two weeks in his room, barely eating what his mother brought to him or going anywhere). His heart and trust had been shattered by the only person he had ever trusted. During that time, his father started to beat ideas into his head, building him up to a more egotistical persona, one that re-sparked his interest in inventing and school. He made Ford believe he was better than everyone, that he was special and only people like him were destined for something greater. However, the motives to get Ford moving again was not without want of personal gain. Filbrick still wanted those potential millions. These motives have severely harmed Ford’s ability to forgive Stanley. Ford is slowly unlearning what his father had instilled in him.

-To Filbrick’s dismay, Ford did not go down the path of ‘potential millions’ right away. The father had tried to make Ford change his mind about going out west to pursue his interests in favor of being hired on as a scientist somewhere. However, the flattery had made Ford a bit more cynical to the world around him. He did not share his grant money like his father expected him to. He pretty much cut ties with the rest of his family minus the occasional phone call to his mother.

-If it weren’t for his mother and later Fiddleford and Bill in his early years, Ford would have been worse off. When he throws himself into his work, he forgets to take care of himself. He wouldn’t shower for weeks on end, forget to eat or sleep to the point of passing out and would often forget what day or year it was.

-Loves horror movies and has somewhat identified with the monsters but greatly criticizes them. He has never showed any fear toward ‘old school’ horror movies. However, he hates jump scares and will react violently to them out of reflex.

-Ford’s trench coats have been modified to be ‘bags of holding’ through a technique he learned while traversing the universe. When you look into one of the many pockets, you find nothing but a void of stars and nebulae which pretty much are ‘pocket dimensions’. **BU-DUM-TISS** He could pull more than a live rabbit out of any one of them at any moment. Probably an extinct Dodo bird or a mini noodle dragon.

-Ford has doodles all throughout Journal 1 and 2 of characters he created for DDMD. He also has a strategy journal floating around the shack somewhere that contains some of his best material that has been lost for years.

-He buys ALL of his clothes in bulk, sometimes the boots already have their own mud stains or have them printed on them at all times. It’s a look Ford loves. Speaking of looks, not all of his black pants are actual pants. Some of them are spandex or yoga pants in case he’s afraid he may rip normal pants when having to do something athletic.

-Yes, he does have 12 PHDs. He earned one on earth but the rest were earned during the 30 years he was away. None of them are in the medical field. That’s what spells are for. One has to wonder if the other eleven are even valid in our dimension. Even he ponders that but will probably aggressively state that they are.

-Everyone expects him to like classical music. While, yes, this is true, he actually took a liking to rock and alternative music. However, he somehow knows all the lyrics to songs that were not made in his time, possibly from a parallel timeline where he got his PHDs.

-He has commissioned Mabel to make him a knitted Plaidipus plush that he shamelessly sleeps with every night. Its name is ‘Theory’.

-Ford keeps up an exercise regimen that he doesn’t force on anyone. He couldn’t care less about anyone’s physical prowess unless they wanted to adventure with him. He doesn’t want them hurt. He only comments on his brother to rile him up from time to time. Sibling rivalry and all.

-Ford has killed before and he will kill again if he has to. He doesn’t like talking about it but most of his kills were the result of either protecting himself or someone or getting something he desperately needs.

-He has a lot of scarring all across his body. While he will admit half of them were from his years in the multiverse, a good chunk of them were from Bill after he found out that Bill was plotting against him.

-After Stan’s memory recovery and his adrenaline came down, Ford had to be taken to the hospital as a result of Bill’s torture on top of the ride in the alien shuttle that would have taken him to an intergalactic prison. He didn’t stay there long. In fact, after he was bandaged up, he declared himself healed and walked right out the front door. Remember, none of his PHDs were in medical. He probably memorized a healing spell.

-Ford may be looking into changing his name after seeing the list of charges Stan put on his legal name. Yeah.

-He and Fiddleford keep a close connection. When he isn’t skyping the kids on his adventures with Stan or spending time with Stan, he is talking with Fiddleford. They pretty much rekindled their bromance. He somewhat owes his life to Fiddleford for all the times the man had saved him from his own stubbornness.

-With Dipper turning down Ford’s offer of apprenticeship, Ford has turned his sights to another adventure loving child who was more local and could probably keep up with him like, if not better than, Dipper had. Wendy. However, during their first adventure out, instead of voicing her opinion on a matter, she ended up knocking sense into him with the back side of her axe. The clanging of it against the metal plate in his head echoed throughout the woods.

.

Example Writing Piece:

There he was. Lying flat on his back on the kitchen floor of his cabin with a bewildered look on his face as a pair of long, twiggy legs draped over his chest and hugged around his arm that was outstretched and held fast against a thin chest. Never in his life did he think he could have been taken down so easily by a man who claimed to be a complete pacifist.

“Say it!” Fiddleford panted, tightening his grip on the arm some while lying on his own back, perpendicular to Ford’s body.

“Never!” Ford snapped out of his bewilderment and started to try to struggle against the hold. “They’re nothing but a stupid fashion trend!”

“Facts are facts! Leg warmers are a practical piece of clothin’!”

“What warmth could you possibly get from leg warmers?!”

“Not all of us have paddin’ in the winter, Stanferd!” the assistant growled and twisted the arm. A yelp echoed off the walls as Ford tried to manage to get the upper hand. He should have been able to dominate this… whatever it was. He was a good bit stronger than his friend. When Ford found that he was not going to get out of the hold without resorting to dirty tactics that would hurt Fiddleford, he sighed and smacked his open palm on the floor next to him to tap out. “Ah ah! Ya gotta say it!”

“No!”

“Say it’s practical! I ain’t lettin’ go until you do!”

“Fine! Leg warmers are practical! Now get off!” Ford tried to remain irritated but then started laughing at the whole situation. All this over leg warmers? Well, now he had a topic to get under his friend’s skin other than his cubic’s cube. Maybe next time he’d get a running start.

[beepbeepdickie]

I'm Just Going to Sit Right Down (and Cry Over You)

Okay so this is my first multi chapter fic ever and I'm super nervous, it's a mutant!Eddie headcannon so let me know if you want to be tagged! Also the title of this story and all the chapters will be Beatles songs, the title was a cover by the Beatles tho, not an original song. Hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: richie tozier x eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 1,590

Summary: Eddie is hiding something from his friends, and it's something they can never figure out.

Warnings: slight language, very slight mention of violence, mention of panic attack

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Chapter one- Drive my car

Eddie Kaspbrak had lived a relatively normal childhood, well, as normal as it could be for someone like him. The 18 year old had been on the run with his mother, Sonia, for the first 5 years of his life before finally settling down in Derry, Maine. The quiet town served as a perfect recluse for the gifted teenager and he had never been happier. Although Eddie couldn't remember anything before Derry, he couldn't complain, it was home to him. He had absolutely wonderful friends who he loved more than anything, semi good grades, and a average mother who was ridiculously overprotective, but for a good reason.

Around the age of 6, his mother had told him. According to Sonia, Eddie was born with abilities that he inherited from his father, Frank Kaspbrak. Apparently he had died protecting them from 'bad people' that wanted to take Eddie away for his powers. After that they had been constantly running for 5 years until those people had finally lost track of Eddie. At the time, Eddie couldn't fully comprehend the severity of the situation at hand, he still didnt. He simply thought he was a superhero and that his father was his gardian, kind of like Spiderman. For about two years Eddie had no idea what type of powers he had, so he kind of just let the idea die, thinking the whole idea was just a figment of his overly active imagination. That is until he turned 8.

Eddie was minding his own buisness playing in the living room while his mother watched TV on her favorite chair. Eddie however became increasingly bored with his toys and begged his mother profusely to watch his show.

"Eddie bear I told you, for the last time, I'm in the middle of my show, you will have to wait your turn." Sonia whispered, hushing him quickly and turning her attention to the brain rotting contraption once more.

This however has set eddie off. He started to throw and absolute fit, he began screaming and crying to watch his show. The screaming continued, growing in volume and intensity until suddenly his show was on and a vase had crashed into the opposite wall. Eddie jumped back so quickly he nearly toppled over the back of the couch. His mother stared at him wide eyed before she began to cry, Eddie was confused at her negative reaction when he himself was absolutely estatic. He was telekinetic for fucks sake.

After that he went ballistic, and tried to use his abilities for everything, chores, homework, cooking. After all, what was the point of touching anything when his mind could do the work? Sonia on the other hand had different ideas, quickly reprimanding him about how dangerous it was to go using his powers for everything and told him he was never to tell anyone or ever use them unless completely necessary. Eddie obeyed, scared by the intensity of her words and vowed to keep it to himself at all costs.

Here he was, 10 years later and he still hadn't uttered a word. Even he and his mother rarely brought it up. So in his mind, he had a relatively normal childhood, but his mind was also the problem.

"Earth to Eddie, the bell just rang dipshit, stop daydreaming." Stan, one of Eddie's best friends had teased, snapping his fingers incessantly in front of his face.

"Aw, stop it Staniel, you know hes having a good dream about me by the way hes drooling right now, arntcha Eds?" Richie crooned, ignoring Stan's griping, and putting his arm around Eddie's shoulders.

"Quit it Rich, and dont call me Eds." He snapped, a little more irritable than usual due to all of these memories piling at the surface. It seemed harder and harder by the day to keep lying to his friends.

"Someones grumpy! Good thing too, I like em feisty!" The curly haired, bug eyed, fool pinched his cheek before walking away in the direction of his class. Eddie just stood in the hallway blushing ever so slightly before Stan interrupted his thoughts.

"Eddie stop staring, its rude, and get to class." He smiled knowingly before heading after Richie.

Unfortunately, for about 3 years now, Eddie knew he was in deep for Richie. As soon as the losers hit high school, The goofy boy had rocketed to a good 6'3, his cheekbones defining his beautiful face, his freckles looking like constellations even in the sunlight, and his smile brighter then ever. Today he looked especially pretty, in a black turtleneck and ripped jeans, his earrings and black nail polish making him even more irresistible. In other words, he was perfect. Although an annoying trashmouth, Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

"Fuck," he grumbled, hearing the bell ring. Recently he had been late for class almost everyday, his mind causing him to stop and think about Richie about every three seconds. Eddie, unlike Richie, was a phony asthmatic, a good 5'6, had a crooked smile, and mop of curly hair that was a sad imitation of Richie's. He was nothing compared to the object of his affections, and everyone knew it too.

Instead of dealing with walking into class late, Eddie just decided to skip, something extremely unusual for someone like him. He blamed it on the stress of junior year and made his way to Richie's truck to hang out for the last period of the day. Rich drove him home everyday anyway, so it was convenient and practical, it was definitely not because Richie has a blanket in the back that smells just like him.

Eddie spent the hour in the bed of his truck pretty much having a mild panic attack, puffing on his inhaler way more than needed. Now not only Richie was occupying his mind constantly, but the shit about his powers too. He just needed to forget. For almost a whole 10 years eddie had kept his powers in the back of his mind so why were they bubbling so close the surface now? Eddie sat in unmoving state of worry, so zoned out he didnt even hear the dismissal bell ring, a familiar string of curses startling him out of his train of thought.

"Jesus fuck Eds, what the hell !" Richie cursed loudly once catching sight of the boy puffing his inhaler in the back of his truck. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Beverly laughed walking up to the duo, "Shouldve seen your face Rich!" The redhead was smoking on a cigarette while giggling at Richie's flushed face.

Ignoring Beverly, Richie continued, "as much as I like finding cute boys in my car, what the fuck are you doing?" His questioning glance trained on Eddie.

Eddie brushed off the question easily, "I skipped and just came here, no big deal." Hands shaking slightly after coming down from his panic, he rounded to the passenger door, ignoring their shocked expressions.

"You what?!" Bev screeched before running to Eddie and putting her hand to his forehead, "are you feeling okay hun?" She cooed.

"Fuck off Bev, I'm 18 not 5, I just felt like skipping, stop looking at me like that!" He swatted her freckled hand away while snapping for the second time that day. Beverly and Richie looked hardly convinced but dropped the subject anway due to his clearly irritable state. As cute as Eddie was- according to Richie, he was quiet fiery when pissed off.

"Okay well, see you guys later, movie night at Bill's tomorrow." She reminded flippantly before jogging over to Mike's car, where he and the others were waiting for him to take them home.

Richie waved in the direction of the other Losers before joining the boy in the truck and looking over at Eddie, concerned, so he made it a point not to look back at him. Eddie tried to conceal his shaking hands in his jacket but of course Richie, only observant when he didnt want him to be, noticed anyway. The silence was broken all too quickly.

"Eds, what going on? You know you can talk to me right?" Richie whispered into the too quiet truck.

And Eddie was mad, mad because he couldn't tell Richie this time, and he told him everything. Richie was his sole confidant, although he was a walking trashcan, Eddie knew he cared and would listen to anything he had to say. Not this, he reminded himself. Eddie gripped his jacket sleeve until his knuckles turned white and Instead just opted to ignore the question until he arrived home and hopped out of the car before Richie could say anything else. The other boy gave Eddie a quick look of longing and almost reluctantly, the car pulled away and sped down the street as Eddie let out a breathe he didnt know he was holding.

He was fucking pissed. Why did this have to happen now? Why were his powers fucking with him now, why were these memories returning now when he had suppressed them for so long, so effortlessly? Everything just felt... off. Eddie glanced in his front window noticing his mother's looming figure wasnt in her chair, where it was everytime he came home from school. Eddie shivered, it was probably nothing. As he opened the front door he saw his mother in the kitchen, placing back and forth, basically sobbing, Eddie felt his entire stomach drop.

Sonia next panicked words left Eddie's heart plummeting into nothing. "Eddie- they know where you are. You have to leave, now."

Tag list

-@jesusbinks

[seofthours]

Get to know me tag

I was tagged by @ohdaddy-nct @firesignbaby and @dreamloveclub to this tag. i honestly was just gonna link my old one but 1. i dont want to search for it 2. some things might have changed. so here we go

rules: answer to 30 questions and then tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better

nickname: my friends used to call me loly in middle school and now they all have lollipop emojis by my contact name // my dad calls me bill wilson and willard which sounds weird but i only respond to him when he calls me that // also liky @ the hyuck hoes

gender: female

zodiac: aquarius // why do you guys hate aquas so much?

height: 5′3

age: 17

time:  12:50 p.m.

favorite bands/solo artists: bts, nct, red velvet, astro, blackpink, day6, sf9, btob, exo, shinee, stray kids, monsta x, the rose, n. flying, seventeen // i stan a lot of boy groups oops

song stuck in my head: shine by pentagon because have you heard it??

last movie i saw: I honestly don’t know // it was probably something that my dad put on the tv. I don’t really watch a lot of tv

last thing i googled: haechan meme // don’t ask

other blogs: I deleted a lot of side blogs + I’m not gonna tag the Au blogs here // @serenelyconfused is my personal main that I don’t use that often

do i get asks: yeah! I love my flower power squad uwu + my lips emoji anon

why i chose my username: actually I wanted @/sunnyhunny or @/sunchan but they were taken so hyuck’s honey skin gave me inspiration

following: 106 I think

average amount of sleep: mmmmm anywhere between 6 and 9 hours depending on whether my demon cat wakes me up early in the morning or not

lucky number: 3?

what i am wearing: athletic shorts and a white t-shirt

dream job: it changes weekly // right now its a lawyer I think

dream trip: everywhere and anywhere

favorite food: uhhhhhhhhhh I don’t? have one? I like broccoli 

play any instruments: nope! I sing a little bit though

favorite song: i love trigger the fever by nct dream // i don’t have a favorite song though

play(ed) any sports: I played softball, I did cheer, I danced (not for very long), I did gymnastics to help with cheer.

hair color: a light red brown color?

eye color: hazel uwu

most iconic song: welcome to the black parade - my chemical romance 

languages you speak/are learning: I speak english (not very well. im dumb) + I am learning spanish. I am currently a spanish 2 student

random fact: I’m stupid ya y

describe yourself as aesthetics/things: I am oversized sweaters that come down to cover your hands and keep them warm. I am a book that you get lost in, imagining an adventure unlike any other. I am the comforting warmth of a cup of tea. I am uplifting smiles and soft hugs to the person you care about most. anddddd now i’m bored uwu

I tag: @poetichyuck @sweethyuck @hyucksbby @hyucko @tinybinnie @jxhnnyseo @leejenos @icetwea @bluejspark @jupitae @minhyungsgf @celestial-cosmosis @kkookies @softiejungwoo @hzugi @angel-donghyuck @wooyuwu @doyuwung @yukuwu @softrenjuns // I kind of tagged newer mutuals or people I don’t talk to that much // Feel free to ignore! :)

[yallreddieforthis]

I’ll Stop By Your Room

Fandom: It (2017)

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Rating: T (for language, talking about sex, mentions of past sexual situations)

Words: 7.1k

Movie canon-compliant but not book. Aged-up (16-17) Also posted on AO3

The Greater Fool Series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 (NSFW) | Part 5

“Oh God,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes and whacking his head on the seat in front of him because he can’t believe he was so stupid as to think that maybe once in his entire life he could just have a goddamn normal, boring-ass field trip where nothing humiliating or life-changing happens because he just had to go and develop feelings for Richie, who never lets anything be boring or normal. Not even Eddie.

As he steps onto the bus to head back to Derry High, Eddie is prepared for the first time in his entire school career, to declare this field trip A Success.

He’s made it almost halfway through tenth grade without ever having gone on a field trip where no disastrous shit went down—either for the class in general, or just specifically Eddie-related shit. There was one in sixth grade where the bus driver got lost and they didn’t get home until after five, and Eddie’s mom had already gotten the police involved by the time the bus pulled into the parking lot of Derry Elementary. Or the eighth grade one to the botanical gardens where Eddie got stung by a bee. Or when they went to the zoo in second grade and some asshole monkey managed to fling his shit far enough out of his enclosure that it splattered Bill right in the chest and like, okay, maybe that was more of a tragedy for Bill than it was for Eddie but Eddie was standing right next to him when it happened. It was scarring for everyone, okay?

Well, maybe not for Richie, who laughed so hard he almost peed his pants and still brings it up anytime anyone mentions monkeys, even in passing. Like someone will say this is so easy, a monkey could do it, and Richie will invariably butt in with haha, hey Bill, remember the time…

In fact, Eddie thinks that a large part of what has made this art museum field trip such an unmitigated success is that he has managed to stay as far away from Richie as possible. Not the actual art part; that was boring as fuck. Bill and Ben were the only ones who got anything at all out of that shit—Ben was all, did you know that this painting was commissioned for Colonel Assface during the War of Whateverthefuck in the year Long Enough Ago That No One Cares Anymore, and Bill was quiet the whole time but his eyes were all lit up and Eddie could practically hear him thinking about color and brushstrokes and shit. Which is fair, because Bill’s art is starting to get really good. He drew Richie during chem last week and Eddie liked the sketch so much he managed to muster up the courage to ask Bill if he could keep it. He’s positive that if he’d bothered to pay any attention at all in the gallery of Frou Frou di Fifi or whoever, he’d be able to see influences from the trip in Bill’s sketchbook.

But he didn’t. He spent the whole time glued to Stan, because Stan is terrified of paintings (which is understandable, Eddie thinks), and Eddie felt bad that he was forced to come on this field trip. Usually, Bill would be the one to partner up with Stan and like, be supportive or whatever, but Eddie and Stan both knew that the lure of a real art museum was going to be too tempting for him, and Stan’s best bet for company would wind up being Eddie. Stan was miserable the whole time anyway, and Eddie doesn’t blame him. It’d be like if Eddie had to go spend the day in a lab staring at Petri dishes full of diseases and then write a two-page essay about how much he loved it. Like, fuck that shit. He suppresses a shudder at the thought.

So he stuck with Stan, inching along the far wall away from the artwork, and avoided Richie, who mostly told jokes over Ben’s A History Of Everything In the Art Museum lecture and spoke at Bill, who uh-huhed him in the middle of sentences so many times that Eddie thinks even Richie might’ve eventually caught on that he wasn’t listening. Avoiding Richie, especially for Eddie, is usually very difficult for a multitude of reasons, the chief of which being that Eddie is in what essentially amounts to a relationship with Richie. Today, it was surprisingly and suspiciously easy.

It’s not that Eddie doesn’t want to be around Richie—he does, actually always, to an alarming and almost disgusting degree—it’s just that Richie is super inappropriate and keeps Eddie in a constant state of worry about what he’s going to do next. Sometimes, for example, he acts like he’s going to start macking on Eddie in public which...they haven’t really discussed it out loud before, but Eddie thinks they have a mutual understanding about not doing shit like that because Richie has never followed through on it. He’s not exactly embarrassed about the...relationship or whatever, at least not very—Eddie figures he has no more reason to be embarrassed of Richie than Richie does to be embarrassed of him—but he knows and he prays to God that Richie understands that obvious PDA would be just as bad as painting a target on his forehead. A big rainbow target.

Eddie files into a window seat on the bus so that he won’t get carsick and hopes Stan will fill in next to him so he doesn’t end up having to sit with someone mean.

Eddie gets picked on enough already, for plenty of reasons. People had been calling him gay for years before he realized he actually is, in fact, gay. Like, the gay was totally always there, tapping him on the shoulder occasionally like hey, uh, It’s Raining Men is a pretty great song, you should listen to it on a loop for six months... and Eddie was just ignoring it until the whole Richie situation sort of forced him to turn around and look it in the eye. And once he did it was like my guy, listen. Dudes. Dicks. Richie. Rodgers and Hammerstein. Eddie sometimes wonders if other people were actually able see it before he could. Were they just calling him gay because people do that, or because they knew? Like maybe he’s been walking around leaving a trail of glitter behind him without realizing it?

There’s no way of knowing for sure without asking someone, and since Eddie hasn’t technically ever said the word gay out loud yet… Presumably, Richie is aware that he is—even if that understanding is based on nothing but the fact that their lips are touching more often than not when they’re alone together—but Eddie hasn’t managed to work up the balls to even talk to him about the implications of being gay. Let alone the implications of being gay in Derry. Jesus, Eddie doesn’t even want to have that discussion mentally with himself, much less verbally with another person.

As soon as he spots Eddie, Richie weasels his way past Stan to cram in next to him. Stan rolls his eyes and gets pulled along into another row. Well, fuck.

Luckily, the museum is about a half hour drive from school, so Richie only has thirty minutes left to work his magic on upholding the streak of shitty field trips. The bus driver turns on the engine and Eddie realizes that he’s picked one of the wheel seats, which will ensure that his legs are numb from the wheel vibrations by the time they reach school. Awesome. Richie drops his backpack in between himself and Eddie, which is only notable because he uses its cover to grab Eddie’s hand where no one can see it. At the very, very least, Richie still remembers that subtlety is the name of the game here.

Not that Eddie really thinks the other Losers will care. That time in the sewers...everything they’ve been through together...Eddie doubts there’s anything he could be or do that would make them hate him. He could kill someone and they’d all just be like yeah I bet he deserved it and you need any help burying the body? He’s aware that he has the best friends on the face of the earth and that once he gets around to telling everyone about him and about them he’s probably going to feel a lot better. Hell, they might even already have guessed. He doesn’t know why he’s putting it off. He keeps telling himself next sleepover, next weekend, tomorrow at lunch and then backing out. It just feels so...daunting. Like—

“So, what do you think about blowjobs?” Richie asks Eddie, in a completely normal tone of voice. Which is to say loud. Richie’s normal tone of voice is very loud.

Jesus Christ.

“You wanna say that a little louder?” Eddie hisses at him.

“SO, WHAT DO YOU THI—”

Eddie clamps his hand over Richie’s mouth and gives him his most murderous glare. Richie just shakes his head and stares at Eddie with his best puppy eyes. Yeah, those eyes that Eddie used to be able to match with a dead-eyed stare and now they just make him feel all melty and gooey and shit because Richie really does have the longest, darkest, most beautiful eyelashes and his eyes are soft and—

Richie uses the momentary hesitation to lick Eddie’s palm. Eddie automatically draws his hand back in disgust.

“BLOWJOBS,” Richie shouts the second his voice is no longer muffled in Eddie’s hand. Eddie elbows him as hard as he can in the ribs and almost remembers to stop holding hands with him under the backpack. Almost.

No one even turns around. From the front of the bus, Mrs. Eisner calls back a vague “that’s enough, Richard,” but that’s the only response he gets.

“See?” Richie says, turning back to Eddie. Eddie wipes his wet hand viciously on the front of Richie’s shirt. “No one’s listening. Say whatever the fuck you want. I like you like you. You’re hot. I wanna suck your dick. See?”

“Oh God,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes and whacking his head on the seat in front of him because he can’t believe he was so stupid as to think that maybe once in his entire life he could just have a goddamn normal, boring-ass field trip where nothing humiliating or life-changing happens because he just had to go and develop feelings for Richie, who never lets anything be boring or normal. Not even Eddie.

He spares a single thought for Richie saying you’re hot. Did...did he mean that? Was he just saying that shit because he was trying to demonstrate that no one was listening? Like, does Richie really think Eddie is hot?

“So, what do you think about blowjobs?” Richie asks again, in exactly the same tone of voice he used the first time, which makes Eddie feel like if he’d just given a real answer way back five minutes ago, in a simpler time before he knew Richie thought school buses were an appropriate setting for sex conversations, then it would’ve been easier.

Also, Richie doesn’t seem likely to drop this topic anytime soon, and when he gets like this Eddie has found that the best course of action is to just grit his teeth and plow through the conversation until Richie is satisfied with his answer, after which they are typically able to move on with their lives. The last time this happened was a Power Rangers versus Ninja Turtles debate that lasted for forty five minutes. Hopefully they can breeze through this one before they get back to school, because Eddie doesn’t relish the idea of Richie passing him terribly drawn notes with diagrams of dicks and tongues during math.

So that’s what makes him decide to take a second and actually consider the question. Blowjobs and sucking dick are things Richie talks about regularly—not with any real seriousness, of course—but Eddie’s never given the idea too much thought because honestly? Gross.

He’s gotten almost all the way past the ickiness of kissing on the mouth and like, in the face-area—mostly by just refusing to think about germ transfer rates and mononucleosis—because Richie has made that worth his while. It took a couple months for him to really get the hang of it, but now they’ve got that shit down; Richie knows how to kiss Eddie’s neck to make him go jelly-legged, and Eddie can get Richie all red-faced and panting just by sucking on his ears the right way, and once they get going, kissing on the mouth is the furthest thing from icky. Eddie sometimes feels like there are moments where he will internally combust if he can’t kiss Richie.

So it’s not that Eddie doesn’t think a blowjob would feel good. The opposite, actually. Just...it feels like asking for some kind of nasty disease.

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head and staring out the window as they pull onto the main road leading to the highway, “I don’t think I can like...do that. Dick in the mouth. Nuh-uh. Nope.”

“No I mean me give you one,” Richie presses. “I’m not afraid of your germs.”

Eddie bristles a little at that because it implies that Eddie is afraid of Richie’s germs which...okay, maybe he kind of is, but Richie didn’t have to say it. He knows that’s not really what Richie meant though—it’s not a jab at Eddie—he’s actually trying to be reassuring. Trust Richie to accidentally backhanded compliment his way into sex. What a fucking catch. And now he’s looking at Eddie with this earnest smugness, like he knows he’s going to convince him to let him do it and he’s stoked. But why does he even want to? Like, what’s in it for him?

Does he really think Eddie is that hot?

“Did you mean it?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself.

“Totally,” Richie says, giving Eddie’s hand a squeeze under the backpack. “I’d take a faceful of your jizz over splashing around in graywater any day.”

Ew, what the fuck?!

“No,” says Eddie. “What is wrong with you? I don’t mean—I meant when you said I was…” Eddie drops his voice to a whisper, “... hot. Do you really think I’m hot?”

“Of course I do, dumbass,” Richie says. “Don’t you think I am?”

Eddie’s first instinct is to say no, dipshit, because “hot” is a word reserved for like...like Ethan Hawke or River Phoenix. Not people like Richie, who has been at peak teenage awkwardness for what feels like a decade at this point and looks to be in real danger of staying that way forever. He has terrible taste in clothes and the glasses and the crazy hair and as a package he’s just...so overwhelming, and that’s not hot. Not even a little. It’s—

“I’m just messing with you,” Richie says cheerfully, knocking his knifepoint-sharp elbow into Eddie’s arm. “Everyone knows you’re the beauty and I’m the brains.”

“God, I hope not. We’re really fucked if you’re the brains,” Eddie says before he can stop himself.

Richie snorts and squeezes Eddie’s hand in such a way that it makes a fart noise and Eddie yanks it out from under the backpack. He folds his arms across his chest and Richie spends the rest of the journey home trying to coax him back into holding hands. By the time they get back to school, Eddie is red with both embarrassment and suppressed laughter, and he thinks about how this kind of thing happens so often that he’ll probably never blush again without thinking of Richie.

As is customary on school nights, Eddie goes straight home after his last class. He’s not allowed to have friends over or go to the arcade unless it’s a weekend, which he used to think was because his mom wanted him to have plenty of time for his homework but now feels more like one of her arbitrary, controlling restrictions because she doesn’t seem to actually care all that much about his grades. It feels like it’s more about just...having him home while she watches The Young and The Restless by herself in the living room. Why exactly Eddie’s presence in the house improves this activity, he doesn’t entirely understand.

Richie took to sneaking in during the night years ago, which always makes being alone for the afternoon slightly more bearable. He’ll get on his bike after last period and turn to Eddie and say I’ll stop by your room after I’m done doing your mom, which is actually a polite offer for company in disguise. Eddie will either say if you really have to or I’ll make sure to put the lock on the door then and Richie has never not respected the answer.

Today he said it and Eddie told him to get lost because they’ve got an essay due tomorrow on the impact of our trip to the art museum and Eddie had had a feeling that writing it was going to require some premium-grade bullshitting. He’d been right, too; he didn’t get done with it until ten. But it’s not like that’s really what ate up his entire evening, because then he’d debated internally with himself for half an hour before caving and rewatching Footloose. By the time he’d brushed his teeth, put on pajamas (his warmest ones—reindeer-printed and made of fleece—because it’s chilly and it’s not like anyone is going to see them anyway), and gotten into bed, it was after midnight. So now he’s still wide awake and feeling kind of like he wishes he’d invited Richie over after all, despite the fact that he really should already be asleep.

It used to be that whenever Eddie said yes, Richie would come straight over after the sun went down. Eddie could always tell if they’d all gone swimming without him because Richie’s hair would be damp and he’d smell like quarry water and the grass at the top of the cliff, and he’d flop onto Eddie’s bed and get those smells all over his sheets. Those nights, Eddie would always go to sleep wondering if Richie was just wearing wet briefs under his shorts or going commando. He was never sure which idea he liked less.

Since this summer though, I’ll stop by your room after I’m done doing your mom has taken on a connotation that sets off a shivery, churning feeling in Eddie’s gut. Sometimes Richie will lean over and whisper it in his ear—sometimes he leaves off the last part too. I’ll stop by your room, he breathes out, warm air hitting Eddie’s neck, and Eddie bites his lips and goes all hot because it means that that night, sometime around eleven or midnight or so, he’ll hear a dun dun dun dadadundun tapping at his window. Eddie is still not sure if that’s a reference to Under Pressure or Ice Ice Baby and he honestly thinks he doesn’t want to know.

He’ll wedge a towel under his bedroom door to soundproof it as much as he can. Then he’ll lift the latch on the window and open it as far as it will go. Richie just barely fits now. A couple of years ago it was nothing for him to hop through, now he has to fold his long legs every which way and his skinny arms flail around and his big feet get caught on the other side of the sill and sometimes he whacks his giant head on the wall as he tumbles through. It’s never a quiet process, unfortunately; there’s always some swearing involved, and Eddie lives in fear of the day Richie looks at him from the other side of the wall, moonlight shining off his glasses, and says “well, fuckity fuck, I’m stuck.”

That’s a problem for Future Eddie to deal with though, because once Richie’s in, well. Once he’s in the room, those skinny arms are immediately wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the long legs bump into Eddie’s as Richie backs them toward the bed. And then they get there and...god.

Eddie turns over onto his side and fiddles with the sleeve of his pajama top, thinking about how if Richie were here, the shirt would be gone before the backs of his knees even hit the mattress. Richie is always the first to start taking clothes off—he does it like he’s starving for him—like touching Eddie is what he lives for and he can’t hold off another second. It’s...feeling like that, like someone wants him so bad...it’s kind of wonderful and powerful and scary.

Every time they do it ends basically the same—they take everything off and then they touch each other until they can’t anymore and their fingers are gooey and sticky and then Eddie has to shove Richie out of bed or he’ll fall asleep right there—naked and on top of Eddie for Eddie’s mom to find them the next morning. It hasn’t happened yet, thank God, but it’s a closer call every time because it’s getting harder and harder to kick Richie out after.

In fact, Eddie has taken to spending a worrying amount of time just sort of lying there and stroking Richie’s naked back or smoothing his hair over his head. After is always kind of awkward for Eddie, because he can’t think of anything to say that isn’t incredibly embarrassing, and silence feels weird too. So far he’s managed a that was good twice, which he was super proud of both times even though he also wanted to roll over and hide as soon as the words left his mouth.

Richie does not appear to suffer from the same affliction, because he always starts talking again pretty much as soon as he catches his breath, and Eddie is usually too tired to complain about whatever stupid shit he says. Richie’s pillow talk typically includes such topics as: an enthusiastic play-by-play of what they just did (during which Eddie always just mumbles please stop every few seconds), complete with commentary, which is as complimentary as it is mortifying; a detailed tactical gamplan of what they should do in the event of a zombie outbreak; who Richie would cast if they made a movie about the X-Men and for some reason wanted his opinion; and a ranking of his favorite types of candy based on the logistics of building an edible house. As long as he keeps blabbering, Eddie can privately enjoy that sick-happy feeling in his chest and put off kicking him out. If he’s being honest, Eddie just wants to hold him super tight and close and stay there until he can watch the sunrise illuminate the faded freckles on Richie’s nose.

Eddie snuggles deep down in the covers and thinks about his favorite parts—between when Richie squeezes into and out of his window—and lets himself relish in the fluttery, fidgety excitement that comes with the memory of Richie, shirtless and pale and glowing faintly red in the light from the numbers on Eddie’s alarm clock. The way his mouth looks after they’ve been kissing, soft and full and open, how his wild hair splays across Eddie’s neck when he bends down to breathe warm air onto Eddie’s nipples. His hands unzipping Eddie’s pants, rubbing him over the front of his underwear like he can’t even wait the two seconds it’ll take to pull them off. The way his back looks as he arches into Eddie’s fingers, the way his head falls forward when he gasps and the way he moans like Eddie’s mom isn’t literally two rooms over oh my god, Richie, shhh. The way he exhales sometimes, like he’s so turned on he doesn’t know how else to express it but with those shuddery breaths that almost sound like the ghost of laughter. Eddie’s whole body goes warm at the memory because it’s the hottest thing he—

And then it’s like Eddie’s brain douses him in ice water because it is. It’s hot. It’s hot as fuck and Eddie remembers that Richie asked him on the bus a few hours ago if he thought Richie was hot and he did not give him an unequivocal yes. And that’s obviously bullshit because Eddie was totally getting ready to start jerking off just now thinking about how fucking hot Richie is when he’s naked and they’re in bed together. Eddie had somehow been under the impression that hot is this kind of ethereal concept that only applies to celebrities or strangers, when hot has literally been sucking face with him for months. He is officially the biggest dumbass ever. Eddie wonders if there’s any other obvious shit staring him down that he hasn’t picked up on yet.

And suddenly Eddie cannot stand the idea that Richie might be sitting at home thinking Eddie doesn’t find him hot. It’s Thursday...well, technically it’s Friday but it still counts as Thursday night and there’s no way Richie isn’t planning on coming over for some sweet handjob action tomorrow night, but this can’t wait until tomorrow. And he can’t call, his mom will want to know why he’s using the phone at this hour and it’s possible that someone other than Richie might answer and then Eddie will have to come up with some reason besides I’m sorry to bother you at this hour Mrs. Tozier, but it’s an absolute emergency because I have to tell Richie right now that he’s hot and thinking about him naked gives me a boner.

Yeah, not likely. This situation calls for desperate measures, like an entirely unprecedented course of action. Eddie puts on his sneakers, throws on a sweater, and walks to his window.

If Richie can still get in, it’ll be nothing for Eddie to get out. He’ll just close the window most of the way from the outside, but not so much that he won’t be able to get back in. His mom might come in (unlikely, Eddie can hear her snoring) and find him gone and completely blow a gasket, but that’s a big might and the fact that he needs to see Richie right the fuck now is a definitely, so. Down he hops, quiet as can be.

It’s early December and fucking cold. Cold as fuck. Eddie hops back and forth from one foot to the other while he untangles his bike from where the garden hose fell on it and tries not to think too hard about how the frigid wind in his face is going to feel when he gets going.

The less that can be said about the seven minute bike ride to Richie’s house, the better. The word frostbite comes to mind more than once, as well as death by exposure. Eddie thinks it’ll be unfortunate but understandable if his dick decides never to make an appearance again; he’s pretty sure it has retreated up into his body for good. He can’t feel his hands but manages to peel his fingers off the handlebars nonetheless, leaning his bike up against the side of Richie’s house without bothering to hide it because, according to Richie, Richie’s parents are heavy sleepers. Eddie wouldn’t normally just take Richie at his word on something like that, but he figures they would’ve had to have caught their own son sneaking out at least once out of the hundreds of times he’s done it if it wasn’t true. Eddie walks around the back and looks through the curtains of Richie’s room.

Richie, wearing the same pajama bottoms and old tee shirt he usually shows up at Eddie’s in, is so deeply involved in Sonic that Eddie wonders if he won’t hear him rapping on the window, but he does it anyway. Dun dun dun dadadundun.

It’s Under Pressure, Eddie whispers to no one in particular. Richie doesn’t hear that or the knocking.

Dun dun dun dadadundun. Eddie knocks again, a little louder.

This time, Richie turns around. He does one better, actually: he does a double take and his jaw drops wide open, hair flopping into his face. He looks utterly stupid by any account and yet the first thought that pops into Eddie’s head is beautiful.

Richie drops the controller onto the floor to live amongst the general covering of junk that populates his bedroom before loping over to the window and opening it.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, staring out at Eddie like he can’t believe he’s here, which is kind of annoying because like...Eddie has a bike too. Just because it’s always Richie who appears at Eddie’s house in the middle of the night doesn’t mean Eddie isn’t capable of reciprocating every once in awhile. It’s just that it’s obviously nicer to get it on in Eddie’s room than in the garbage heap Richie inhabits.

Richie reaches out a hand to help Eddie clamber inside. He must have the heat cranked up full blast because Eddie starts regaining feeling in his extremities right away when Richie shuts the window.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I just needed to—” Eddie starts, then clamps his mouth shut.

In that moment he realizes that he’s just shown up at Richie’s house at one in the morning on a school night without warning, wearing fleece reindeer pajamas, sneakers without socks and a sweater, and he has literally no idea what he wants to say other than I just needed to tell you you were hot. Right now, apparently.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Richie demands, in what might sound like a normal tone of voice to an outsider, but Eddie instinctively recognizes it as being seconds away from abject panic.

Eddie looks up into his eyes and god damn, how has he never managed to see how insecure Richie really is? Of all the millions of things Eddie could be here for… He could’ve had a fight with his mom. Winston from the Sweet Valley High books that Eddie definitely doesn’t read could’ve been killed off. Eddie could just be horny. He could have a homework question—well, probably not that one because going to Richie for homework help would be worse than just not turning in the assignment and taking a zero—but a breakup? Like, that’s what he jumps to? A breakup? Really?

“God, no,” Eddie says, and then the next words come out of his mouth with absolutely no leave to do so from his brain. “Why the fuck would I do that? I love you.”

Richie sits down hard on his bed and just...stares. And Eddie a little bit wants to freak out because I love you sounds like a really big deal but like...is it? Is saying it that big of a deal? Feeling it is, maybe, but if Eddie’s being honest with himself, he’s been feeling it for like forever. He might not have always been willing to admit that, but if you take a dump in a toilet and call it a flower, it’s still shit. Saying it doesn’t change that.

“Actually I just wanted to tell you you’re hot,” he continues, fidgeting with the zipper on his sweater and still standing awkwardly by the window. That part comes out easier, probably because he just dropped a live one with I love you and nothing else he has to say could possibly be as enormous as that. “Cause on the bus, like I didn’t. But you totally are. Hot. You’re...hot. Like super hot, like…” Eddie gestures vaguely up and down with one hand, “all of you. Your hair and your back and shit—I mean, your...yeah. So I just wanted to tell you. Bye.”

And because every single word after you’re hot has increased his discomfort exponentially, Eddie feels like this is as good a time as any to make his exit. Actually, about fifteen seconds ago might’ve been better, but it’s certainly only going to get worse if he just stands there doing nothing, so he turns toward the window and prepares to bail. This apparently snaps Richie out of it because he gets up, still staring.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Richie asks.

“‘Why the fuck am I here, where the fuck am I going,’” Eddie repeats, one leg already out the window. It is so fucking cold outside and like, this whole thing was such a bad idea, Eddie wishes he could go back in time fifteen minutes just to smack himself in the face and tell himself to stay in bed. “Where the fuck do you think I’m going? I’m going home. It’s a school night.”

“Uh, no way,” Richie says, striding toward him. He wraps a hand around Eddie’s wrist. “You don’t get to say something like that and then just like fuck off. Nah, come back in here and let me blow you.”

Let him what now?! It takes a second for Eddie to make the connection—like why Richie is bringing that up—but then his mind presses rewind on the part from the bus when Richie said Eddie was hot and...right. The conversation was originally about blowjobs. Why do they always seem to have these important discussions about feelings in conjunction with sex stuff? At this rate, Eddie’s never going to have a cute story about their relationship that’s fit for mixed company. Like he’s gonna tell the others at a sleepover, so then I said “I love you, Richie,” and he was like, “that’s sick dude, lemme suck your dick.”

He’s about to say no because ew, but...it’s Richie. And Richie is looking at him with his big brown eyes and Eddie knows that Richie would be a hundred percent cool with it if Eddie truly didn’t want to, and if Eddie says not gonna happen, Richie will probably never bring it up again. But he can also hear the excitement in Richie’s voice, and it seems...crazy, like it’s crazy that Richie really wants to blow him that much.

“I didn’t say that shit because I wanted a blowjob,” Eddie tells him.

“I know,” Richie says.

“I don’t think I can really stay,” Eddie says, although he also pulls his leg back in the room and allows Richie to shut the window again. “It’s a school night.”

“Fuck yeah, it’s a school night,” says Richie, in what he clearly thinks is a California Surfer Dude voice, but it’s new to his repertoire and still sounds more like he’s having a mild stroke than anything else. He grins and gets straight to work pushing Eddie’s sweater off his shoulders. “Think about how tired we’re gonna be in first period tomorrow. I’m gonna get hard just looking at those bags under your eyes.”

“What the fuck?” Eddie whispers back to him. He shrugs his cardigan back on. “You say the weirdest shit Richie, I swear to God. Is think about how tired we’re gonna be in first period tomorrow supposed to be like, dirty talk? Because uh, that’s not sexy. I—”

“But you love me,” Richie interrupts, “so everything I do is sexy.” He yanks his own shirt over his head and smiles down at Eddie.

“Yeah, that’s not how it works,” Eddie says, placing both hands on Richie’s bony chest and trying not to focus too much on how good his skin feels because he is not going to get distracted by the lure of impending nakedness.

“Yeah it is,” says Richie immediately, sliding a hand up under Eddie’s pajama top. “We’re in love, so everything is like automatically a million times more sexy.”

“Oh really? What so...so, my...like when I had to shove Tylenol down your throat when you had a 102 fever last month? You find that sexy?”

“Hell yes,” Richie replies immediately, “you can play doctor with me anytime, baby.”

“Don’t you dare start calling me ‘baby,’” Eddie warns him.

“Try and stop me,” Richie laughs, and he pulls Eddie in closer with his hand on the small of his back. Fuuuck, no way is Richie going to let that go. Eddie hates the nicknames, but he knows it’s a losing battle because Eddie Spaghetti eventually got replaced with Eds and he can already imagine baby gaining ground on Eds. In fact, Eddie would bet his whole allowance that baby is going to eventually turn into babe. He can see babe sticking long-term. He’s just gonna have to get used to the idea.

“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie sighs, resting his forehead on Richie’s shoulder.

“Dude, I’m trying,” Richie says, grinning his shit-eatingest.

Eddie starts to giggle and has to put the brakes on it because he’s not getting sucked in. He’s not. He came here with a mission and he accomplished it. Just because it’s kind of making him die a little inside to leave right now doesn’t mean he can’t suck it up and do it anyway.

“I have to go,” Eddie says again. He stands on his toes and kisses Richie a little harder than usual, and hopes that Richie understands he’d much rather stay here. Someday, Eddie wants to tell him...someday they’ll finish high school. It feels like a million years from now, but then he knows he’s going to blink and he’ll be holding a graduation cap and a college acceptance letter. And Richie will be there too, holding...well, Eddie’s hand, at the very least. He really would get good grades if he applied himself, like all his teachers say, but Eddie doesn’t love him any less for his 2.7 GPA.

“Tomorrow,” Richie says. Eddie’s not sure if it’s a promise or a question. But either way, the answer is yes. If Richie wants to do what they usually do or… whatever else. Eddie’s down for it. One great thing about Richie—one of many, Eddie thinks—is how he doesn’t really try to force Eddie to stay. It’s kind of like when he goes to high five Stan and Stan gives him that please die now look, and Richie just immediately cuts his losses and moves on. He’s like that a lot. Eddie sometimes wishes he could just let shit go the way Richie does.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Eddie tells him. “Definitely.” He can’t quite bring himself to say how much he’s looking forward to it—so much, so so much—but he thinks Richie can tell anyway. They lock eyes and there it goes, that melty feeling, like the first sip of hot chocolate after playing out in the snow. That’s what should’ve tipped Eddie off that he’s—that they’re—in love. It’s love or fever delirium. Either way, he’s such a goner.

Eddie steps away from Richie and turns toward the window. Once they finish school they’ll leave Derry and only be forced to come back for like, Christmas or whatever. They’ll get a dorm or maybe an apartment together—some cheap place in a horrible neighborhood, probably—and Eddie will eventually have to break it to his mom that Richie’s a lot more to him than a roommate, but it’ll all be so worth it because—

Eddie steps on the uneaten crust of a forgotten PB&J on his way to the window. This is it, the future he has chosen for himself. No one goes from being the kind of person who tosses sandwiches on the floor to a liveable human being in the span of a few years. Someday, it’ll be their room and Eddie will be getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and stepping in peanut butter, and he’ll have no one to blame but himself. He picked this idiot—this somehow super hot idiot—he went and fell in love with all that hair and those dark eyes. He fell in love with Richie’s knobby knuckles and his bitten cuticles too. And his strange, infuriating, perplexing mind. Richie never lets anything be boring. Eddie can look forward to an entire lifetime of being, at the very least, kept on his toes. If not literally, to avoid stepping in discarded food.

“You know,” Eddie says, swinging his leg out of the window and back into the icy wind, “I hope you plan on getting a good job, because I’m going to be stuck cleaning up after you as a career.”

Eddie only realizes when he’s halfway home that he just essentially admitted out loud to Richie that he wants to spend the rest of his life with him, which in hindsight makes Richie sound like a really smooth motherfucker for saying, “Nah, I was already planning on hiring us a housekeeper,” without missing a beat.

Eddie slams on his brakes and there, in the middle of the street in the freezing pitch-black night, he comes to his third Big Realization of today. This, Richie and him, it’s the real deal. The things he’s been thinking about—an apartment, a shared bed, a shared life—are not daydreams. They’re plans. Shared plans.

Eddie’s so rarely sure of anything—like how he used to think there was no such thing as supernatural, shape-shifting killer clowns—but he's always sure of Richie. He’s sure of how he feels about Richie, and of how Richie feels about him. Even the fact that he’s out alone so late and not panicking can be attributed to Richie. Eddie used to be afraid of being by himself and the dark, but Richie gives him courage just by existing within a ten-minute biking radius.

Someday isn’t soon enough, but living with Richie is going to have to wait. He can’t believe he’s excited about the idea of Spaghetti-O’s every night and yelling at Richie for leaving the heater on and brushing crumbs off his sheets before bed but, God help him, those things can’t come soon enough. Just a couple more years, Eddie tells himself.

Tomorrow isn’t soon enough, either. His teeth are chattering, mostly because he’s actively freezing to death but also from the almost tangible ache in his chest that started when he walked around to collect his bike from the side of Richie’s house and left Richie watching him from the window. It’s what Eddie usually does when Richie leaves his house and God, Eddie’s not sure how Richie manages to do it twice a week. It almost made Eddie want to cry. He still feels like he might cry. If he goes home and gets into his bed alone right now, he will undoubtedly cry.

It’s a fucking school night, but Eddie is rapidly losing his ability to care. He sits there on his bike in the middle of the road for a second before…

“Fuck it.” He shakes his head, smiles out into the darkness, and swings his handlebars back in the direction of Richie’s house.