#and I’m just wondering how fast they’d stop if they found out how fucking butch I am

[ineedmysickfix]

.

#indie rambles into the void #or more specifically into the tags #I’ve been getting hella messages from guys on my kinkier blog #and some of them are okay while others are creepy but All of Them are flirty #and I’m just wondering how fast they’d stop if they found out how fucking butch I am #I mean I’m bi and I flirt back but oof #I wanna know what they imagine I look like based on the - tasteful pics ~ I’ve posted of myself w/out my face in frame

[renaerys]

11. “You’re going to make it. Just stay awake.” (Butch/Buttercup)

{{Original posting unfortunately deleted. Reposted here.}}

February Fic Prompt #11 originally requested by Anon. Greens shenanigans and hella innuendo, just the way I like them.

xxx

Everybody knew that the best person to go on night patrol with was Boomer. The guy talked but not nearly as much as Bubbles, who could probably talk herself through an earthquake and never even notice. He wasn’t a micromanager like Blossom or a straight-up jerk like Brick. And he definitely was not even half as annoying as Butch could be.

“You ever wonder what the fuck is up with Monster Island?”

Butch sat next to Buttercup on the Millennium Tower, the tallest building in Townsville, with their feet dangling over the edge and the city lights at their feet. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No.”

He ignored her. “You know, ‘cause that place is what, three? Four square miles? And the monsters just keep coming.”

“What’s your point?” Buttercup said, not really caring. Her watch read a quarter past midnight. She should’ve been in bed an hour ago.

Butch suddenly leaned in close, and Buttercup leaned back away from him. He looked very serious, and that almost always meant he was about to say something mad dumb—

“Giant beast orgies.”

Buttercup groaned. It was going to be a long night.

“For real! They must be going at it 24/7 poppin’ out tentacle monsters and dino hybrids and flaming squirrels at the rate we fight ‘em. How does that even work? Like, are they all just fucking and it’s Baby Roulette to see what’s gonna come out?”

“Dude, gross. I don’t want to think about that shit.”

“Pssh, don’t lie.”

“I’m really not.”

“You’re not even a little bit curious about what kinda Stranger Things shit is going down right over the bay?” Butch pointed southwest toward Citiesville’s Golden Bay, where the aptly named Monster Island sat a few miles off the coast. “Like the Booger Monster we fought before the Reds fucked off to Snob College. How does that even work?”

He made a crude gesture with this fist and forefinger and then pantomimed picking his nose. Buttercup shoved him off the edge of the building.

“Cut it out, Butch. I said I don’t want to talk about that shit.” She grabbed the backpack he’d brought and pulled out a bag of chips. “Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s just weird monster biology, end of story.”

Butch floated one hundred stories above the ground and grinned at her. “So you have wondered about it.”

“Clearly not as much as you, Horny Darwin.”

He threw back his head and laughed from his gut. Buttercup scowled and stuffed some chips in her mouth. The crunch helped her focus, but her eyes were drooping and her head felt a bit fuzzy.

“Hey, you okay?” Butch was no longer laughing as he hovered close and peered at Buttercup. “You look tired.”

Buttercup cast the chips aside. They weren’t really helping, and she wasn’t hungry, anyway. She ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. “Yeah, I woke up at 4 a.m. today.”

“Why the hell would you wake up that early on a patrol night?”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to be patrolling tonight, you were.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

Not surprising. Butch tended to tune out shit that didn’t directly concern him, especially if it was coming from Blossom. She’d called Buttercup at four in the goddamned morning ranting about some giant hairball monster that had attacked Ivy University campus and how Brick had been so sleep deprived that they’d both nearly suffocated to death and she had to help him to bed and somehow all of this was now Buttercup’s problem because Blossom knew they were patrolling alone for only a few hours to get out of it but no one should be patrolling alone in case of giant hairballs attacking. Buttercup pointed out that the likelihood of another giant hairball attacking Townsville, which was clear across the country from Blossom and Brick’s college, was pretty low. Blossom told her to cut the attitude and make sure Butch didn’t patrol alone tonight. She did not have time to argue when she had to go convince the administration to change Brick’s finals schedule so he could actually get some sleep.

And since Boomer and Bubbles were currently out of town at a music festival until tomorrow, Buttercup had no choice but to be here tonight.

“Ugh, whatever. Did you bring any of those energy shots? I’m about to pass out,” Buttercup said.

Butch sat back down next to her and pulled his bag onto his lap. “You know that shit’s basically radioactive rat piss.”

“This from the guy who scarfed three bacon double cheeseburgers on the flight over here.”

He grinned wolfishly and flexed his bicep at her. “Hey, this hot bod doesn’t get by on yogurt and protein shakes alone. A man needs red meat.”

“A man needs less cholesterol in his diet if he wants to live past 40.”

“See, this is why it’d never work between us. Sorry doll, I gotta lead with my stomach.”

Buttercup snapped at that awful pet name he’d taken to calling her lately and swung around to punch him in the stomach. He caught her fist just as it made contact, absorbing the brunt of her force, and met her eyes. The son of a bitch was still grinning.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” she hissed. Her fist shook and sparked with green energy as she tried to finish her punch, but he held on.  

Halfway under her as she threw her weight behind her stalled punch, Butch’s smile relaxed into something softer but just as dangerous as he looked up at her through his messy bangs. “You kinda like it.”

Buttercup dug her knee into his thigh right over the femoral artery, and he shuddered. “Yeah, this is me liking it.”

She applied more pressure, and he gasped. His other hand grabbed her shoulder and threw her off him, but Buttercup rolled and landed on her hands and feet in a crouch. Butch matched her guerrilla stance and they faced off on top of the world with the stars at their backs and thunder in their veins.

“Still gonna pass out?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said you were about to pass out. Is this any better?”

Buttercup frowned. He’d provoked her on purpose to distract her from her sleepiness? That was almost…

He got up and stretched like a cat, and Buttercup couldn’t help but notice the subtle ridges of his abs when his dark shirt ran up for just a moment. Clearly he was excelling at that gym trainer job he’d been at full-time since they graduated high school.

Not that that mattered at all.

She got up and wiped her hands on her jeans. “A little, I guess. Still tired as shit though.”

Butch cracked his neck like he was getting ready to fight, but he wasn’t. For as long as she had known him, Buttercup had always been able to sense when he felt the urge, just as he could sense it in her. Primal, instinctual, not just a need but a desire to ruin and be ruined all for the manic joy of surviving it. She felt it less the older she got once her body stopped changing and growing, but every couple of months they would inevitably seek each other out for a row. Not even monsters could quite scratch that particular itch. If anything, they exacerbated it.

“Sweet. I got a few other ideas,” he said.

Buttercup crossed her arms. “You get ideas?”

“Ha ha, you bitch. I’m serious.”

She cracked a smile. “We’re on patrol.”

“Yeah, so let’s go patrol.”

“What’re you—”

He took off in a blaze of green, not flying but running down the side of the Millennium Tower, dodging balconies and flipping off the flagpole like some kind of insane Super gymnast. He didn’t lose momentum when he landed and took off running across the busy street toward the next building.

Buttercup was dashing after him before she could think twice about it, to hell with staying here by herself. She slid over the roofs of two cars crossing the street and leaped from balcony to balcony as she climbed the next building higher and higher. Butch had already made it to the top and paused to look back at her. His smiling challenge boiled her blood, and he took off sprinting again along the drain pipes. Buttercup flipped over the guard railing on the roof, sprinted to the other side, and leaped off the edge in a free fall.

The night wind whipped her loose hair, and she somersaulted to cushion her landing on the pedestrian sky bridge connecting this building to the next. Butch slid down the drain pipe and landed similarly a short ways ahead on the glass and metal bridge. They faced off, and she couldn’t help but grin fantastically at the sight of him winded and emanating green power, ready to run.

They didn’t speak, there was no need. He took off and she tore after him, each carving their own path leaping concrete chasms, rolling into their falls, and racing against gravity and mortality up the mirror-bright sides of skyscrapers. Buttercup cartwheeled through a narrow path between two huge AC generators and landed like a cat on the metal railing, where she spotted an enormous tower crane powered down for the night in the midst of a new construction project. It was tens of stories tall, and she wanted nothing more than to run up its mast.

Butch had the same idea and leaped like a monkey from the roof of the building next to hers and grabbed the jib. He hit it with the force of a Super, and the huge machinery whined and began to swing. Buttercup abandoned her original plan for one that would be a thousand times cooler. Moving fast, she raced along the thin railing and pedaled through her jump to get her across to the next building over. The crane groaned in protest as Butch sprinted along the length of the jib. She wouldn’t have much of a window.

With a running start, Buttercup scrambled up the wall of the roof access door and jumped high into the air just as the long, metal winch cord came swinging by. She grabbed it barely in the nick of time and went spinning.

Above, she searched for Butch and found that he wasn’t slowing his momentum even as he neared the end of the jib. Buttercup gave the winch cord a little extra boost of her power and went careening high into the air on an updraft just as Butch free-dived off the jib. The night air parted for her and the stars fell to meet her as she reached out, elated, and Butch reached back.

They joined hands at the wrists, and Buttercup moved with gravity and the momentum he’d brought with him before it could wrench her arm clean out of the socket. Together, they hurtled through the air, bounced off a radio tower pole, and landed in a two-man roll on a private rooftop golf course.

Butch was laughing when they came to a stop in a heap on the green, and Buttercup laughed with him. He had his arms around her as she hovered over him.

“That was,” he stammered, breathless.

“Amazing!” Buttercup said.

“Fucking incredible! Holy shit, when you ran for the winch cord—”

“I didn’t think I’d stick it for a second—”

“But you did and I swear I lost my goddamned mind—”

“You jumped! You fucking idiot, you’re lucky I was there to catch you.” Buttercup shoved him, but he only laughed again and held her waist tighter.

“Woman please, how could you ever resist the chance to catch this hot shit? I saw your face, you totally creamed yourself!”

“Fuck you, it was the moment and I wasn’t even looking at you!”

They could hardly breathe as they laughed, and gravity rolled them over. The grass was cool under Buttercup’s cheek, and above the stars were bright and close. Slowly, the moment subsided as they caught their breaths and watched each other through the gloom.

“I kinda knew you’d catch me,” Butch said.

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “I regret it already.”

“Sure you do.”

He was smiling, but there was no mocking or malice behind it. Strangely enough, Buttercup thought it suited him.

She pulled away before she could finish that dangerous train of thought, and he let her without making a big deal out of it. They sat up side by side and looked out over the city and the ocean beyond. Monster Island was dark, but the detection barrier surrounding it glowed a subtle blue in the starlight and city lights.

“Five and a half hours until sunrise,” Butch said, checking his watch.

Buttercup groaned. “That’s so long from now.”

He nudged her shoulder with his. “You’re gonna make it. Just stay awake.”

“Wow, genius plan.” She nudged him back.

“Hey, I got plenty more ideas where Super Parkour came from. Just say the word.”

Buttercup allowed herself a smile in the darkness. Butch could drive her crazy, but over the years she’d gotten used to his self-indulgent vulgarity. Sometimes she didn’t mind. Sometimes it was just kind of nice. Familiar. A pull she couldn’t explain or describe, except that she knew he felt it too, and he always knew exactly what she needed.

“In a few minutes,” Buttercup said, her eyes drooping a bit as sleep crept up on her little by little.

She could feel his warmth through her sleeve and his, close enough to touch, close enough.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned his gaze skyward. “Just a few more minutes.”

They had all night, after all.

#Butchercup #Greens #Butch #Buttercup #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfiction #PPG fic #PPG #February Fic Prompts #the more I write these two the more I adore them

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Intern (CliffxReader Pt. 2)

Pt. 1 :)

Requested by @perawuat​

@tealaquinn​

Let me know if you wanna be added to either the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)

You grinned widely as you reached for your diploma. You looked out into the crowd, your radiant smile reminiscent of a sunflower as you looked to the cameras and did a peace sign with your left hand as you raised your diploma with your right.

You finally graduated.

You had a big job in a hotshot Hollywood production to show for all your hard work.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid...

You looked out at the crowd, spotting dozens of familiar faces.

You found your family among the sea of pride.

And by them, two empty seats.

Rick and Cliff couldn't make it. They were in Italy...

You sighed softly. It as a bittersweet moment. They were doing the best they could, you couldn’t be mad at them.

The next few days your family kept you fairly busy. They’d flown in from out of state. You didn’t mind the company. Especially since the summer felt a little empty without Rick and Cliff to deal with.

But as the summer wound down, so did your work.

You moved out of your old apartment, leaving Ziggy, Rowan, and Odie...

You moved into a high-rise apartment in west Hollywood.

It was your first time ever living completely alone. You had a place all to yourself, no brothers barging in or bathroom hogging sisters. No roomates.

And still...

....no Cliff and Rick...

Nothing....

You sighed, and muttered a despondent, “Groovy...” As you looked up at your new building.

You took a breath, and took the elevator to the fifteenth floor, and walked down the long hall to your apartment.

You stopped, seeing a bouquet of red roses at the doorstep. You wondered if it was from the apartments landlady... She seemed like an old fashioned person.

You picked up a card that came with it, expecting it to be complimentary.

But...you knew that writing.

You smiled a little, and sighed a little more cheerfully, "oh Cliff..."

You sighed, flopping onto the second hand couch from a garage sale that you’d hastily strewn in the middle of the empty living room.

Your living room.

You read the card.

Cliff apologized for missing your graduation and not being there to help with the boxes. He also added a million little things to make you blush.

You held the letter against your chest as you presided over the rows of brown boxes scattered around the room.

You smiled a little as you looked through the first box. The first thing you picked out was a framed picture of you and Cliff.

You smiled, knowing you'd finally made a life of your own, and that he was part of it.

And you knew you really had it together a few months later, when you were invited to a party. A big Hollywood party.

The movie you'd worked on had been nominated for a few Academy Awards, including for best cinematography...which you'd had a big hand in.

You met a few big names at the party, and a few familiar faces. The night was young, and you danced there with the stars and the writers that gave Hollywood it's lights. After a while you stepped aside to grab a drink. You looked at the scene, your new friends, and future.

Rick had been rigth all along... You were going to make it big.

As you took a sip of your drink, you overheard something behind a nearby table.

There were a few older and frankly snobby producers talking, and avoiding the younger crowd. They'd been talking about some projects they had been looking into.

The name Rick Dalton came up, and you raised your eyebrow in curiosity.

"Rick Dalton is an old, washed up chain smoking alcoholic has-been who's still waiting to happen!" The group of producers broke out laughing as he went on, "Won't be long till he drinks himself into a grave!"

Your blood boiled...

You'd been trying to get Rick to get help. You'd been making progress, until he had to go to Italy.

The producer went on, "Or worse. Lets himself go, gets a beer belly, and lets those pothead hippies melt his brain! And that pal of his, Cliff Boot."

One of the other producers corrected him. "Booth."

He nodded, "Booth. Killed his woman, didn't he? What's he still doing on sets? Bad luck. Don't want Dalton or that scumbag anywhere near me."

Another man stood between you and the circle of snobs. He smiled, "Say, aren't you that talented young lady what worked on that western?"

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

He smiled, "Say, O'Mara, this is the young lady that worked on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid!"

The producer that had been ripping on Rick and Cliff turned around, with a wide, yellow, broken grin, reached his hand out to shake yours, but you stepped away in disgust, maybe hurting your relatively young and vulnerable career. 

But to you  it was worth every second seeing those snob's blood boiling.

"Don't get too cocky, O'Mara. You wrote Rick Dalton's first check, and then ripped him off when he got too big for you. Of course he's having a rough time, you all turned your backs on someone that made every single one of you a pretty goddamn penny, while he and Cliff are scratching and barely surviving. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, listening to that fucking rumor like a bunch of teenagers listening to Paul Anka. The man's a war hero, for crying out loud, and you're a fucking draft dodger. So no. Don't ask me to shake the hand of a man who turned his back on people he owes everything to."

Before things escalated, the man that had attemtped to introduce you to the producers stepped in, spoke fast, made them laugh, and ordererd drinks all around.

As the producers picked up gossip about other 'has beens,' the mystery man took you aside, "I like your work, and I like your spunk, you're a good kid."

You smiled a little, and he went on, "How about I let you in on a little secret, kid? All those old boys back there? Tearing apart actors because they’re jealous. And when they’re not with each other, they tear each other apart, because they all want this." He raised up a briefcase.

"What's that?" You laughed a little, seeing the quirky, odd character gripping the case as if it were worth the world..

He smiled, "Well, kid, this here's the next big thing in Hollywood what's gon' get somebody an Oscar, or an Academy Award round this time next year."

"So you're a writer?"

He nodded with glee, "Writer, director, as of now sole producer. But I still need my crew, and my stars. And kid, I seen the wonders you've done down at NBC and for that picture. So, once I get this show on the road, are you willing to get in on it?"

You could not have felt happier, "Absolutely!"

He smiled, "Well then, I need some stars, don't I? How about I talk to your friends about this, huh?"

"M-my friends?"

He nodded, "Mr. Dalton, and his stuntman, I hear they're a damn good team!"

You nodded, proud that some people still knew them as what they were, "That's right, sir."

He smiled, "I pictured Rick in this role. It's not exactly his regular western character, but, it's new, its fresh! It'll give him a new face, a new chance! I see him as...." He grinned, looking into the distance as he waved his hands, as if the name was appearing in front of you on a screen, "Hudson Murdock! International spy!" He sighed in satisfaction, "We’ll knock Bond out  of the water! And probably knock that guy, Cliff into the water!"

You both chuckled, and he asked, "Think they'll be interested?"

"I think so, sir."

He smiled, "Please, kid, call me Rudy!" He handed you a business card, and then a pen and a paper so you could write your number, Rick, and Cliff's down for him.

He took the paper after you were done, and hid it away safely with the script he guarded with his life, "Be in touch soon, will ya kid? They'll be home from Italy, soon I'll bet."

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

He titled his head, "Come on, kid."

You sighed and smiled a little, "Rudy."

He smiled, "Alright, that's better, kid." He gestured to the growing crowd of young party goers, "Go on, have fun before the real work starts!"

Despite the rocky moments with producers, and the inevitable burning of a bridge or two, you couldn't get over the fact that you'd just gotten Rick and Cliff a new big shot in Hollywood...

Still, the adrenaline and fun started to wash down the more the night went on. By the time you were home that night, you were a little more than just uneasy.

Cliff was supposed to call you and let you know he'd made it home safe with Rick.

You were sure they wre going to get blind drunk together, 'one last time,' thinking it was the end of the line...

Of course, they didnt' know about your development...and you'd let them have their fun for the night.

You could wait a million years for Cliff.

Or...you thought...

It just wasn't like him

Even in Italy, he called you every single night. Now that he was home, there was no excuse.

You spent the next half hours or so debating and reasoning with yourself....

Maybe they knocked out because of jet lag? Maybe they were drunk because they drank on the plane? Maybe the phones weren't working? Maybe he went straight to get Brandy? Maybe he wasn on his way to yours?

The possibilities were endless....

Still, there was that constant, nagging, feeling wringing your heart...

Ringing...

The phone was rining.

On the third ring, you picked up.

It was Rick.

You glanced up at the clock.

12:55 AM...

Your eyes went wide as Rick quickly and calmly tried to explain every thing that happened in the last half hour without giving you a panic attack.

12:56 AM...

"HE WHAT?!"

Rick replied, "H-he's o-k, don't w-worry! He-"

"He got stabbed! And-"

"He-He'll be ok, Y/n, everything's fine!"

"And you? Are you ok?!"

He chuckled a little out of tension, but mostly because he just missed hearing from a friend like you, "I'm uh...I'm actually at the neighbor's right now. Everything's ok, Y/n, don’t worry."

"The Polanski's?" You felt a little ease in your shoulders, knowing Rick finally got what he'd been wishing for for months.

"Yeah..." You could practically hear the smile, "But I'll meet you and Cliff bright and early tomorrow. We're ok, honey, don't worry. Get some sleep, he's ok."

"Ok..."

Rick sighed, knowing you better than you gave him credit for, "Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yeah, Rick?" You held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you reached between the couch cushions for your car keys.

Rick chuckled, "Drive safe."

You smiled a little and shook your head once.

You practically raced to the hospital, giving Cliff and every other stunt  double in Hollywood a run for their moeny.

Your heart skipped a beat, stopped, and broke al at once when you saw Cliff again... After six months...t felt like a lifetime,

And it felt like even longer seeing him like that.

You knew he was going to be alright. Rick told you so. The doctors told you. The nurses told you...

But you didn't believe it until you saw him for yourself.

"Cliff..."

He looked up at you, clearly tired. Of course, the acid, the fight, the stabbing, and the morphine were behind that. Still, he shifted trying to get up to get to you.

"No, no, stay down, it's ok..." You sat by him, rested your hands in his and smiled softly.

To him you were nothing less than an angel...

Especially with the drugs (legal and illegal) and the bright white hospital lights behind you. "Y/n....you...you came? Told Rick to tell ya to get some sleep I-"

"That's crazy talk."

He took your hand and pulled it up slowly to his lips, and kissed your hand softly. He looked up with soft eyes, "I'm sorry, baby...I should've gone home, should've gone to see ya..."

You shook your head, "If you had, there's no telling what would've happened...Best not to think of that, not now."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

You shook your head, and rested your hadn against hisncheek, "Best is yet to come, Cliff." You smiled cheekily.... you'd tell him about the party the next day.

Until then... You gave him  a kiss, and said, "Get some rest, Cliff."

"Only if you do, baby..."

You nodded, "I will, I will."

He chuckled a little, through the meds and drugs, and mumbled and hummed "Dream a little dream of me..." as he fell asleep, holding onto you desparately.

Somewhere deep in his mind, he was scared you were a hallucination...He wanted to hold you enar and dear. He wished Italy and that night never happened. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

When you woke  up, it was nearly noon, and the sunlight was streaming through the blinds. You'd fallen asleep on the chair by Cliff's bed, with your head against his chest. His arm was around you still. And you could hear the warm hum of his voice through his chest as you woke up slowly.

You could hear Rick too.

"Goddamn, Y/n and Francesca are gonna get along, they sleep like logs."

You smiled a little as you stood up to hug Rick.

He smiled at you, and shook his head, "You wanna tell me how the hell you managed to save me and Cliff's careers in one night?"

You shrugged, and playfully "Hey, when you got it, you got it."

Cliff guffawed, but then immediately held his wound, "Shit, Y/n, you oughta be the one carryin' Rick's load then!"

You rolled you reyes with a cheaky smile and sighed, "Anyone would've done the same."

Rick sighed, "Oh, honey, you don't know Hollywood just yet."

Cliff said, "What we're tryna say baby is thank you."

"Ah, it's nothing." "You got us some work!" Cliff looked at Rick, and they were both relieved, knowing it wasn't quite the end of the line. "We knew you'd make it far..." Rick saw the way Cliff smiled and looked at you. It was all clearer now that Cliff wasn't wearing sunglasses. Rick smirked a little, as he chuckled, "I'll go ahead an' leave you two alone for a while." You covered your face as your rubbed your eyes, "Oh, come on Rick!" Cliff chuckled, "I wIsH!" You looked to Cliff, "Cliff!" He laughed a little as he reached out for you. You heard Rick closing the door as he left. You sat by Cliff again, and he kissed you. "Told you everything would be ok, kid." "Yeah?" "Yeah..." He nodded. "Rick was right. You made it. You're not just an intern anymore...and me and Rick are gonna be ok, and you n me are more than ok." You smirked a little, looking down a tthe ground for a moment, then back at Cliff, "Yeah, we are..." He rested his hands on the sides of your face, his thumbs pressed against your cheek. It wasn't something he did often, but you weren't complaining. Because in that moment, everything mattered. The past six months had been hell, and the past night was a nightmarish trip. His blue eyes were wide open then. Everything realy was ok... And you could see that in his eyes: The hope and love the 'washed up' stuntman hadn't felt in a decade or two. And he owed it all to you, the intern.

#ouatih #once upon a time in hollywood #cliff booth #cliff booth x reader #rick dalton

[god--baby]

get in part 14 & epilogue (sfw ish)

henry bowers x gender ambiguous reader patrick hockstetter x oc vic criss x oc

masterpost

previously on: the gang goes to see the house they want to rent. they sign papers. 

summary: the gang does finals, graduates, and moves out. 

word count: 2060

tag list: @heckstetter @itaddict @starchildmarggu @frostwolfie2936 @galaxy-moon @surahbow @kylorans @nubitchin @bowersbeloved @severebananaalmondfish @violetdawn-k @tonguepopperr @oounlicensedgayoo @worthington @itwasmathilda @emmaamalie @galaxy-weeaboo @agespenst

Finals were Hell. One right after another, with no way to know how you’d done. In between classes and at lunch, Henry was tight strung, waiting to pop off at anything. You spent a lot of time with your hand in his hair, soothing him.

Josh went on tutoring Belch and Henry tirelessly. You were sure that with his help, they’d be okay.

Vic showed up at lunch one day with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“Apparently, we’re all fucking each other,” said Josh.

“Well, that’s excessive,” said Sophia.

“Yeah, two guesses who’s behind it again,” said Vic.

“Gretta Bowie,” you and Sophia said together.

You held up a hand and she high-fived you.

“None other,” said Vic.

“Jesus, is she still jealous?” asked Sophia.

“Jealous of what, baby girl?” asked Patrick.

“Us,” she said. “She wants you, bad.”

“Gross,” he said. “I wouldn’t fuck her for free, at least.”

“Gross,” she said. “How much would you fuck her for?”

“Two hundred?”

“Good enough.”

“Seriously? I thought it would be higher,” you said.

“Two hundred is a hell of a lot,” Patrick argued.

“I mean, I guess so,” you said.

By the end of the week, everyone was done taking their finals.

And everyone passed. Not with flying colors, but acceptable, average grades that at the very least wouldn’t ruin your plans.

You sat through another week of empty classes and games and “fun” assemblies until finally, finally, graduation arrived.

You collected your diploma, shook the principal’s hand, and nearly ran back to your seat, beaming.

You’d done it. After today, you were free.

When you got to throw all your hats in the air, you ran to Henry’s side to do it. He threw his hat, you threw yours, and he pulled you in for a hard, frantic kiss. You could tell by every move of his mouth on yours how amazed he was, how happy that this was happening.

He’d survived high school. He’d done it.

When the kiss broke, you looked around for the others. Sophia was running towards you and you caught her in a hug, laughing. Vic and Josh — Josh, who’d graduated at the top ten percent of the class, thank you very much — were jumping up and down, their hands in the air.

And then, there was Belch. Belch, who was kissing the tiniest girl you thought you’d ever seen. You’d seen her around, but had no idea that Belch had a thing for her — or anyone.

Henry started laughing so hard he was gripping his sides.

You all walked over to him, and he looked up from the girl, his cheeks red.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he said. “Everyone, this is Kim. Kim, this is …everyone.”

She waved, shy. “Hi, you guys.”

Henry stopped laughing when you elbowed him in the side. He stuck out a hand and she took it, giving a firm handshake despite her soft voice.

After dinner had been had with various parents at several houses — you brought Henry home since Butch had been on duty and obviously didn’t care — you all got together in the hay loft again. Everyone was there — even Kim.

You all sat in a circle, passing drinks and a joint around, talking about nothing.

“This is the last time we’ll do this,” said Vic. “After this, we move away. We only have a few days.”

You all sat in silence for a moment, mourning the loss of the hay loft, of the memories made there.

You remembered the first time you’d been there, getting high, with Henry kissing your neck over and over. And then, with Sophia, the day she swore she wouldn’t lose Patrick — and here she still was, not the same girl she had been, but stronger.

“We’ll make memories together again,” said Sophia. “This is just the end of one chapter. We’re still writing our story.”

Everyone groaned and threw hay at her, and she laughed, shaking it out of her hair. Kim looked confused, so you explained.

“That’s guidance counselor shit,” you said.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, voice small. “I like it.”

“It’s just cheesy, that’s all.”

At the end of the night, you and Henry walked towards your house. You’d both denied the opportunity to be driven so you could have this time before things got crazy with packing and moving and all that.

You held hands, swinging it between you in the dark.

“We did it, baby,” he said.

“What?”

“We graduated. We found a place to go. We’re gonna leave this fucking town.”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling.

The next day, Sophia and Patrick picked you up and took you to Henry’s house. You packed up his belongings — it only took a few boxes. Butch watched with hard eyes, drunk and mean on the couch, but didn’t do anything to stop any of you.

You got the feeling that he didn’t want to do anything other than drink. Not even try and stop his son from leaving, and leaving forever.

It wasn’t until Henry said, “’Bye, Dad,” that he did anything.

He stood up and threw the beer bottle in his hand at the wall next to Henry’s head. You were pretty sure that, had he been sober, he wouldn’t have missed.

“You leave,” he said, “and you don’t ever come back.”

It was horrible, to see Henry’s eyes as hard as they were right then.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go, guys.”

You left, taking Henry’s things to Patrick’s house, before you all went to Sophia’s, collapsing in the middle of her sweet, lavender room for a few minutes. Then, you were up and packing.

It was only a few days later that all of you moved into the house on Willow Street.

You blasted Metallica and Cyndi Lauper and Van Halen to christen the house, greeting your new neighbors with smiles and waves.

Belch moved an armchair all on his own, hoisting it above his head. He set it down for a second, and Vic sat down in it. Josh helped Belch pick it up, with a cackling Vic still on it.

When the day ended and night crept in, you all sat on the back porch, ignoring the many, many unpacked boxes inside, passing around a joint.

“Well, kids,” said Josh. “We did it.”

“We did,” you said.

And then you kissed Henry. His hand found your hair and gave it a tug. You grinned at him, then turned to the others.

“Guys, I think it’s time we really christened the house,” you said.

“You’re gonna fuck?” asked Patrick.

“We’re gonna fuck,” you said.

You led Henry up the stairs to your bedroom, where, in the middle of unpacked boxes and bags of clothes, sat a bare mattress, flat on the ground, that was soon to be both of yours. You kicked off your shoes and stepped onto it, waiting for him. He stepped on it after a long moment, and you began jumping up and down, holding both of his hands in yours.

After about a minute, both of you collapsed, laying on top of each other, laughing. He looked the happiest you’d ever seen him, like he wasn’t carrying something he’d had to carry his whole life.

“We did it,” you said again. “We really did it.”

“Yeah, we did.”

And then he kissed you.

—

EPILOGUE

Several Months Later

You woke to someone getting in bed behind you. Henry, dead to the world, was in front of you, so there was only one person it could be.

You rolled over.

“Hey, Soph,” you said.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Guess what?”

“You two finally did anal?”

“Yes!”

You laughed quietly, determined not to wake up Henry, who’d had a hard day yesterday.

He’d begun having what you only referred to as Hard Days about a month ago. Something would remind him of Derry, of his dad, and he’d be set off. Shaking, yelling, he’d even cry if it was bad enough.

Yesterday, someone who looked just like Butch had walked into the store where Henry worked.

It had been a long night after that.

“How was it? Did you like it?”

“It was awesome!” she said, eyes aglow. “I’m so glad I finally gave in.”

“I am, too. Anyone else awake?”

“I think Angela is. I smell coffee, anyway.”

“Cool.”

You rolled over and pressed a short kiss to Henry’s forehead. Still sleeping, he smiled. You smiled back, unseen.

You followed Sophia downstairs, where, sure enough, Angela was already in the front window seat, nursing a cup of coffee.

You put your hand on her shoulder as you passed.

“Any left for us?” you asked.

“You know it,” she said. Then she went back to watching the neighborhood’s feral cats interact with the neighbor’s dog.

Things hadn’t lasted with Kim, Belch’s last girlfriend. For one thing, she was just too shy to keep up with the group. For another, she was going to college out of state. They’d ended things only a little while after they’d begun, but stayed friendly, if not friends.

Angela had come along once you’d all been in Portland for a month, or so. She was perfect — for Belch, and for the group. She was dry, sarcastic, and neat. She liked beer, tinkering with cars, and driving fast. Sometimes you wondered if god or whatever was out there looked at Belch and said, “yeah, I got something perfect for you, right here,” and then shoved them together.

Right now, though, your favorite thing about Angela was that every morning, she woke up bright and early. And every morning, she made a full pot of coffee.

You poured a cup for you, then one for Sophia. You sat down at the tiny kitchen table, across from each other.

“How’d Henry sleep?” she asked.

“Oh, good. Out like a light as soon as he calmed down.”

She laughed. “He sounds like a baby when you say it like that.”

“Well,” you said, stirring milk into your coffee, “he needs to be treated like one, sometimes.”

You didn’t have to explain yourself, say that you didn’t mean it in a mean way. It was that your boyfriend needed extra care sometimes. And that was okay.

Sophia knew. She always knew when it came to you.

You stood up.

“First cigarette of the day?” you asked.

“Trying to cut down. Just as long as I don’t have like, six more,” she said. Then she followed you out to the back porch.

Vic and Josh were already there, laying in the grass under the tree.

“Hey,” Vic called to you, his head in Josh’s lap. Josh’s hand was in his hair, gently carding through.

“Hey,” you said, lighting up a cigarette and passing it to Sophia.

Even after all this time, she didn’t buy her own smokes, and you constantly shared with her. Not like you minded. She cooked for you sometimes, so you were more than even.

The back door opened and Patrick and Henry walked out.

“Hey, baby girl,” said Patrick.

Sophia pecked him on the lips.

“Hey, daddy,” she said sweetly.

You groaned good naturedly.

“Don’t play, baby,” said Henry. “You’d do it.”

“Would I, daddy?” you asked.

He grinned at you, still a little sleepy.

“Fuck, I love you,” he said.

It was your turn to smile.

“I love you, too,” you said.

Then, you turned to the rest of the group.

“Where’s Belch? Working early again?” you asked.

“Yeah. Weirdo loves his early mornings,” said Vic.

“Well, he gets to enjoy his nights,” Patrick grumbled.

“That’s true,” you said.

You were working on getting moved to morning shifts because of that. You’d rather handle the breakfast rush and get to say goodnight to Henry than do what you were doing, now.

You made another mental note to really get on your managers about a schedule change.

“You know what I love?” asked Sophia, blowing out a stream of smoke.

“What’s that, baby girl?” asked Patrick. He put an arm around her and pulled her close.

“I love this. I love all of us, in this house.”

She’d said it a million times before, but each time, it felt new. Each time, you had to remind yourself that this was real. That you were here, and you were happy.

“Yeah,” you said. “I love it, too.”

THE END

#henry bowers x reader #henry x reader #patrick hockstetter x oc #vic criss x oc #belch huggins x oc #belch huggins #Henry Bowers #patrick hockstetter #vic criss #bowers gang #it 2017 fic #it 2017 imagine #mine

[god--baby]

get in pt 13 (sfw)

Henry Bowers x ambiguously gendered reader Patrick Hockstetter x oc Vic Criss x oc

master post

previously on: sophia wants to move in together, you and henry get jobs, butch beats henry

summary: sophia finds a house that looks perfect, you all go see it. also, the sweetest van in existence 

word count: 2073

tag list: @heckstetter @itaddict @starchildmarggu @galaxy-moon @frostwolfie2936 @kylorans @violetdawn-k @cordysblog @itwasmathilda @passionfortrashin

The next few weeks was a whirlwind of work and getting ready for finals. Turned out Josh wasn’t just smart in his own way, he was a damn decent tutor, helping out Belch and Henry with their studying.

Sophia was alight, looking for rental listings in Portland, trying to find something perfect for all of you, even though Belch and Vic were still hesitant.

You knew they’d come around, though. Henry was talking about it every chance he got. You could see it in his eyes — he had hope. He was going to finally leave his fucked-up home and make a new one.

And you were going to be there with him, every step of the way.

“Dad doesn’t think I’ll actually do it,” he said one day on the phone. “Busted me a good one for bringing it up.”

“Jesus, Henry. Just wait, he’ll see. He’ll see.”

“Yeah, he will.”

You sat your parents down one Sunday after work.

“I’m gonna move out,” you said.

“When? Where are you going?” your mother asked.

“Portland. After graduation. I’m not gonna go to college, not for a while, at least, probably. But Sophia is, and I’m gonna move in with her and Patrick and Henry.”

“Are you sure you want to move in with him?” asked your father. “Things are different when you live with someone.”

“I’m sure. Listen, Henry’s… Henry’s got a really bad home life. His dad — his dad beats him. I just want to give him a better life than that. I want to be there for him.”

Your parents were quiet for a long moment.

“Oh, honey,” your mother said. “We didn’t know.”

“Why would you? He’s a police officer. It’s not like it’s something they could ever be open about.”

“That… explains a lot. About both of them,” said your father, obviously uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” you said.

You wondered what signs they’d seen that you’d missed. Not that it mattered now that you knew.

“I hope you’ll understand,” you said. “I love him, and I want to live with him.”

“Do you have any plans of where you’ll live? Are you getting an apartment or a house?” your mother asked.

“Sophia’s looking at houses. Hopefully she’ll find something that’ll fit all of us.”

“All of you?”

“The whole group. We want Vic and his boyfriend and Belch to live with us, too.”

Your father laughed.

“What a house that’ll be,” he said.

You smiled.

“It’ll be a mess, for sure. But… it’ll be our mess. I really want this.”

Your mother mimicked your smile.

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” she said.

“So… is that okay?”

“Honey, you’re eighteen. You can do what you want. Just, I guess, make sure this is what you really want.”

“Well, I have time to think about it. But I’m pretty sure.”

“Okay, then. We’ll help you as much as we can,” your father said.

You got up and hugged him. Your mother joined in.

“Thank you so, so much,” you said into your father’s shoulder.

“Of course, kiddo,” he said.

The next day as you got into Sophia’s car to go to school, there was a small stack of papers on your seat. You picked them up and got settled.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Oh, that? That might be our house,” she said, smiling. “I got the landlady to fax over some more info and pictures of it. I think it’s perfect.”

You looked over your shoulder at Patrick. He was the only other one in the car — Vic and Henry rode with Belch, usually. He was smiling at you, sleepy, and far less sinister than he was most of the time.

“Oh yeah?” you asked.

You began flipping through the papers, looking at the add in a paper from Portland, advertising a four-bedroom, two baths near campus. Sure enough, there were pictures. It looked perfect, but you weren’t sold just yet.

“Looks good,” you said. “Can we go see it?”

“I was thinking we all take the day off one day this weekend and drive down,” she said. “Make a day out of it. Check out the town, hang out.”

“See if we can get jobs?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” you said, sighing.

When you got to school, you caught up with the rest of the guys. Vic and Josh were holding hands and smoking, and Vic’s eyes lit up when he saw you and Sophia.

“We decided,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?” you said. “What?”

“We’ll move in with you.”

“You guys!” Sophia squealed, jumping up and down a few times. “I knew you would!”

“On one condition,” said Josh.

“Okay?”

“We don’t get a room next to you and Patrick. No offense, we just don’t want to hear you fucking all the time,” said Vic, his eyes sparkling.

Belch stopped chewing on his fingertip long enough to say, “I can soundproof their room.”

Josh beamed.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

“Well, then, look at this,” said Sophia, holding out the papers.

She handed them to Henry, talking about the house, the back yard. The neighborhood. Anything she could think of to sell everyone on it.

Henry looked over the pictures, then passed them around. He looked more excited than he ever had about the prospect of moving in together, and you understood why. This house, this very real house, made it more of a possibility than it had been before.

He grinned at you and you smiled back, leaning in to give him a short kiss.

“You like it, baby?” he asked.

“I do. Sophia, hey Sophia. You wanna tell them your plan for the weekend?”

“Yeah! I was thinking we could all take either Saturday or Sunday off and drive down to see the place. What do you guys say?”

“What, take both cars?” asked Josh.

“No, my uncle in Bangor has a van we can borrow. I can pick it up the night before with Patrick,” she said.

“Well, then. I guess we’re all taking a day off,” you said.

And you did. You all ended up at Sophia’s house on Saturday morning, looking at a frankly glorious van. There was a wizard and a unicorn painted on the side.

“You said this was your uncle’s?” you asked.

“Yep.”

You paused.

“Just how much does your uncle smoke?”

“None, not anymore. Besides, he told me a long time ago that smoking weed felt like having a really nice glass of wine. That was a lie.”

“Maybe things were different back when he was smoking?” said Belch.

“They probably were,” said Josh. “Things grow and develop really fast. You’d be amazed.”

Everyone let out a huh, and then piled into the van. Sophia was driving, and you were up front with her since the passenger seat still wasn’t far enough away for Patrick to stop being himself.

It took slightly more than two hours and a lot of wrong turns to get there, but Belch read the map carefully, sitting between the two of you and telling Sophia where to go.

You ended up in front of the house, with the landlady hanging out on the front porch.

You all got out of the van, stretching and grumbling just a little bit.

As it turned out, the house was as perfect as it looked. There was a fucking window seat in the living room, for fuck’s sake. There was an attic room that Belch took a shine to, two on the second floor, and one on the bottom floor. One on the second floor was just a little bit bigger than the others, and like children, everyone squabbled over who got it. Henry won in the end, everyone easily bowing to him.

It had a good front and back porch, a decent back yard with a big tree in the middle.

The landlady gave you the rundown on rent and utilities, trash, how she’d tell you before showing up. You were grateful for that — it wouldn’t be great if someone was fucking when they should be talking to her. You glanced at Sophia with that thought, and she was already looking at you, an eyebrow cocked. You had to hold back a laugh.

“The lease would start in June,” said the landlady. Her name was Jo.

“Holy shit — oh, sorry,” you said. “Sorry, that’s just so soon.”

School ended at the end of May, only a few weeks away.

“Honey, I swear like a sailor,” said Jo. “But yes, it is soon. I’m not very flexible on that, though. It’s the beginning of June or nothing.”

“Well, guys, what do you say? Is this the place?” asked Sophia.

“Yeah,” said Belch without a second thought. “Hank?”

Everyone looked at you and Henry. Henry looked so excited he could puke.

“Yeah,” he said. “This is our house.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Jo. “We got some paperwork to sign, and then you’ll be on your way. We’ll also set up a day for move in.”

After all was said and done and all of you were back in the van, none of you could stop talking. You swapped seats with Belch so he could navigate better, and you sat on the floor with Henry laying in between your legs. You played with his hair, listening to everyone go on about how perfect the house was, how brilliant Sophia was for finding it all by herself. She glowed in the compliments but didn’t let it distract her from driving.

You slowly drove around Portland, getting a feel for the town. It wasn’t that much unlike Derry, just bigger and a little more full of people roughly your age. The college campus was sprawling, covered in trees and people lounging around, in the middle of spring classes and workshops.

You drove past restaurants and shops, betting anything that you could get a job, use the fact that you were there in June and not going anywhere for a while to get the job.

Henry looked up at you, grinning.

It was all possible. The world lay at your feet, and you were going to explore it together.

You got back to Derry late in the afternoon, having stopped in some small town on the way back for lunch. You dropped off the van at Sophia’s place and drove out to the quarry to hang out and just talk, since none of you had anything else to do for the rest of the day.

“I can’t believe you found the perfect house,” you said to Sophia.

She was leaning up against the Trans Am, one of your cigarettes between her lips. She exhaled, smoke funneling out of her mouth in a short stream.

“It took a lot of looking, honestly. That on top of homework, and I thought I was gonna go crazy. But when I saw the ad for that one, I just. I got this feeling, like it had to be right.”

“You keep getting those feelings, listen to them,” said Henry.

“Oh, I will. How do you think I ended up saying yes to Patrick?” she asked.

“God, what did your gut tell you about him? Run or get the dicking of your life?” asked Vic.

“Something like that,” said Sophia. “Glad I didn’t run, though.”

“Mm hm,” said Patrick, putting his arm around her. “You love me.”

“Something like that,” she repeated.

He shrugged, like that was good enough for him.

“You really think you can soundproof their room, man?” Josh asked Belch.

“Should be easy. We just need a lot of foam. Easy.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

When you went home, you kissed Henry goodbye, going inside. Your parents were waiting on you.

“How’d it go?” your father asked.

“Oh, my god. It’s perfect. We signed. We move in at the beginning of June.”

“That’s so fast,” said your mother.

“I know,” you said. “But it was either that or find somewhere else.”

“Well, it’ll be good,” your father said. “You can get jobs that other kids have just left to go home.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” you said.

You kept talking all through dinner, the happiest you’d been around them in a long time. It was nice, how they were getting used to the idea of you and Henry together, how they were willing to help you leave this town.

You went to bed and stared at the ceiling, a big, sloppy smile on your face.

It was happening. It was really happening.

#henry bowers x reader #henry x reader #patrick hockstetter x oc #vic criss x oc #it 2017 fic #it 2017 imagine #mine