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#stanley barber imagine

tv-girllover07 · 4 months

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So I will also start taking in Stiles Stilinski, Jj Maybank, Stanley Barber and Jaeden Martell(and his characters),Walker Scobell, Percy Jackson Requests cause why not…So please, PLEASE send in those requests.

And hey I would just like to say thank you for all the people who have liked my story Something metal🥁- Kevin Schlieb, you people are awesome

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hopefulfuturenovelauthor · 1 year

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Charlie Boy

Stanley Barber x reader gn

song- Charlie Boy by the Lumineers

about 1.2 k words

warnings: language, mentions of Stanley’s father, Stanley’s bruised eye, I can’t think of anything else but if I need to add something let me know.

“Don’t go to war, firstborn in ‘44,” you walked around the room, collecting a mound of blankets from the couch.

“And Kennedy made him believe, we could do much more,” the soft fabrics clung to your arms, still a little wet from the pouring rain. Running around the block to get here without an umbrella had not been your brightest idea. But that didn’t stop you anyway.

“Lillian, don’t hang your head, love should make you feel good,” you let the blankets fall from your arms at the foot of the bed. You grabbed the fluffiest from the pile and carefully laid it over the boy lying on his side.

“In uniform, you raised a man, who volunteered to stand,” you gently patted his head of curls, taking your other arm’s sleeve to wipe away stray tears.

“Ohohoh, ohoh, ohoh, 0hohoh, ohoh, ohoh,” he laid there still unmoving as sadness pooled in his eyes and fell down his cheeks. You stepped away only slightly to hear him whine as you left to turn off the lamp a little ways away from his bed.

“Play the bugle, play the taps, Make your mothers proud,” you returned back to his side as you softly brushed at his tears, painfully avoiding his bruised cheek and eye. Stanley’s hands grabbed yours as he tried to pull you down beside him.

“Sweetheart, I’m soaked. I’m just going to get you wet,” you said.

“I don’t care,” Stan said raggedly, “just hold me while you sing.”

“Okay,” you whispered before crawling into bed beside him, placing a second blanket over the both of you, the one he already had separating you so he would stay dry.

“Raise your riffles to the sky, boys, fire that volley loud,” you stroked his head as faced away from you.

“News was bad on Upland Ave, Metuchen mourn our loss,” you sang out to the quiet of the room. Stanley’s sniffling had become fainter.

“Sons, rebelled, while fathers yelled, and mothers clutched the cross,” your arms slowly wrapped around the poor boy beside you, comforting him the best you could.

“Ohohoh, ohoh, ohoh, ohohoh, ohoh,ohoh,” you hummed out as Stan bundled into the blankets you gave him, swadling himself in the warmth that them and you provided.

“Play the bugle, play the taps, make your fathers proud,” you voice was starting to fade away and Stanley’s breathing evened out.

“Raise your riffles to the sky, boy, fire that volley loud,” you finished the song, leaving a silence that was neither comfortable or uncomfortable. Regardless of the suffocating feeling, you felt left trapped in the house that was both a blessing and a curse. You rested your head against his. The strands of curls brushed your face as you tried to relax.

“I like when you sing,” he whispered.

“I like when you sing too,” you responded neutrally, uncertain of how far this conversation would go.

“It’s better when you sing,” Stanley said, “you only sing when I need you or when you think no one is listening. It makes you sound like an angel.”

“How come?” you asked.

“Because you always come when I need you and the way you can calm me down so easily makes it all seem… etherial.”

“That’s some high praise,” you responded against his curls.

“It’s true,” he replied back. You sat in silence for a few moments before Stanley broke it again. “How do I sound to you when I sing?” curiosity filled his voice.

“Like a rat choking on pesticide,” you said monotonously, as your emotions ran wild in the madness of your head.

“I’m being serious,” Stan said through a giggle, still not choosing to turn and face you.

“You sound normal,” Stan shifted against you antsily, expectantly, as if he wanted to hear something as meaningful as he had said to you. “You sound like yourself. You can hear your personality each time you belt out a chorus, or forget a word, or your voice breaks. All I hear is you, and it’s wonderful. Because your my favorite thing to listen to, even if at times you do sound like a rat choking on pesticides.”

Stanley stayed quiet. Time passed and in your head you could hear the ticking of the clock in your brain, the countdown until one of you broke the silence or fell asleep.

“If I wasn’t so emotionally tapped, I’d confess my undying love for you.”

“If you weren’t so emotionally tapped, I would have already spun you around to face me,” you answered back.

Stanley wiggled out of your grasp as he shifted about. After a few attempts he finally flipped over with what would have been minimum effort if he had succeeded the first time. Glossy eyes stared at yours, one surrounded by the purple bruise. His smile was contagious most days, but not this one, not while he was hurt.

“I know you turned, but you are still absolutely drained after today,” you said, scooting back to get a better look at him.

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you too. You're comfy and cozy and everything, but sometimes seeing is believing even when you ground me.”

“I will take comfy and cozy as a compliment,” you stated.

“You should. You smell nice. It makes it very easy to get all warm and toasty when the person smothering you smells like a freshly baked Christmas cookie.”

“That was…,” the words weren’t coming to your mouth right away. “Random. Very fucking random, but okay. You smell like weed and hormones so, you know at least I don’t smell like that.”

“God, I wish I smelled like you. However, it gets very difficult to be around you when I’m high. I get the munchies and sadly I can’t chew on you like I could a cookie.”

“Okay,” you said trying to reel the conversation back in, “I think that is enough talk tonight. You need rest, Stan. I need rest. We both need some time to just fucking be without the whole god damn world breathing down our necks. So just try and get some shut eye for me, will ya?”

Stanley’s thin lipped and tired smile was thrown your way as he moved forward to rest his head just below your neck. His untamed curls brushed against your chin as he snuggled into you, arms wrapping around your side as he relaxed.

Without much thought, you placed a soft kiss on top of his head and returned the embrace. Your arms drifted from under his to wrap up and around his back. Your fingers made small circles on his shoulders as he hummed with his eyes closed.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said.

“I love you too, Stan.”

“So fucking much?”

“So fucking much, and much much more.”

You both fell asleep shortly after. The warm smell of cookies filling Stan’s senses as the refreshing smell of his citrus shampoo wafted from his hair and into your heart. A blossoming comfort engulfed you both in the sweet smells of an inviting winter and a revivifying spring.

#Stanley Barber #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber x reader #ianowt #i am not okay with this #still upset #I need more #why!!!!!!#help 😢#wyatt oleff #i need this show back

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canislupus-exe · 2 years

Text

Sore Sides | stanley barber

fandom | I Am Not Okay With This

character | Stanley Barber

reader | no pronouns used

requested | Anonymous

warnings | n/a

word count | 1,018

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

summary | A image with Stanley barber x reader where Stanley finds out the reader is ticklish and tortures them the next few days by tickling the reader aLl the next few days, and can you show when Stan tickets them. Thanks.

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

Keep reading

You laid contently on your best friend's bed, staring up at the ceiling as he and your other best friend lay on either side of you. The alarm on his nightstand began to buzz, alerting you that it was 6:30.

“Ugh… I have to go.” Sydney said as she sat up from the bed.

“Boooooo.” You replied. She laughed as she grabbed her backpack.

“I have to babysit.”

“Yeah yeah I know. I’m just giving you shit.” You said, not moving from your comfortable position.

“Seriously? Neither of you is going to walk me out?” She asked. You looked at Stan, and since he wasn’t moving, neither were you. You looked back at Syd and shrugged.

“You guys are the worst.” She said as she began to walk out.

“See you later assholes.” She called through the now shut door.

“Byeeeeeeee.” You yelled after her. You sighed contently as you shifted your position, getting even more comfortable. You glanced over at Stanley, seeing he still hadn’t moved.

“Did you fall asleep?” You asked. He grunted and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Come on! We’re supposed to be hanging out.” You said. He groaned and rolled over. You frowned before poking his side. He turned his head and glared at you.

“Why would you do that? Disturb me when I was resting oh so peacefully.” He said. You could tell he was joking by the tone of his voice. You snickered and continued poking his side.

“You’re such a pest.” He said with a smile before sitting up. You decided not to let this go quite yet as you now jabbed both your index fingers in his side.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” He said, jamming his own fingers in your sides. You gasped as he began to furiously tickle you. You attempted to push his hands away but lost yourself in a fit of laughter. You could see his evil smile in the corner of your eyes that began to well with tears from giggling so hard. It took far too long to pry his hands from your torso.

“Wow, you’re really ticklish.”

“And you’re a fucking dick.” You said in between breaths. He laughed before reclining on the pillows laid across his bed. His eyes stayed focused on you as he formulated a devious plan in his mind.

>>timeskip<<

Your tray clattered on the cafeteria table as you sat down. Your face held a scowl as you stared at the terrible food they had the gall to call “pulled pork.” You silently cursed yourself for forgetting your lunch at him before deciding that there was no way in hell you were gonna eat this. Your carton of chocolate milk was just gonna have to do.

You watched as your friends approached the table and took their respective seats, each with their own trays of awful school lunch. They’d opted for the smarter option and grabbed hamburgers. It was hard to go wrong with cheese and meat between two slices of bread, yet they seemed to manage all the same. You pulled open the top of your milk, bringing it to your lips without a second thought.

Stan smirked and couldn’t help but get a terribly evil idea. He leaned over and began to tickle your sides, causing your eyes to widen. The milk had already passed your throat when he decided to cause trouble which elicited a violent coughing fit combined with your laughter. Tears stung your eyes even quicker than they had last time as you tried your hardest to push away his hands.

“What the hell are you doing Stanley?” Sydney asked. Stan laughed and stopped, finally giving you mercy.

“(Y/n) is ticklish,” Stan replied. You grabbed your water bottle to clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eyes as you did so. You took a minute to gather yourself before shoving him.

“Why the fuck did you do that!?” You shouted. He shrugged before drinking from his own chocolate milk.

“It’s funny.” He said.

“I could’ve choked and died you know.” You said, shooting him a glare. His only response was a large smile.

>>timeskip<<

A few days had passed and Stan continued with his awful tickling. You had no idea why he kept doing it, but it was safe to say it gave him enough reason to steer clear of him. This, however, was proving to be difficult considering he was one of your grand total of two friends, and the only one with a car. You chewed your lip, searching the lot for his yellow ford. You saw it stalled out in a spot, which meant he was still getting out of class.

You felt fingers dig into your sides and move around rapidly, creating the feeling that you had become so used to. Even still, you couldn't stop yourself from laughing. You tried pushing his hands away but were too weak. You were beginning to feel like you couldn’t fight this anymore. You let yourself fall into his arms, your legs betraying you as he continued tickling. But once you were so close, his hands grew still. After a minute of composing yourself, you were still in his arms.

“You stopped.” You said, looking up at him. He looked down, his cheeks flushed red from how intimate the position was.

“Y-Yeah.” He replied. You stood straight up, wondering what had come over him.

“Are we hanging out at your place or not?” You asked. He gave a quick nod before walking to his car, which you gladly followed him to. Once you were seated and buckled in, you looked over at him.

“Seriously though… Why have you been tickling me so much?” You asked. He glanced at you before shrugging.

“I… I think your laugh is cute.” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. You didn’t know what to say. You’d never expected that response. After a few seconds of silence, you replied.

“Next time why don’t you just try being funny.” He gave a small chuckle and you realized… His laugh was pretty cute too.

#i am not okay with this imagine #ianowt imagine #i am not okay with this #ianowt #sydney novak #stanley barber #dina #brad lewis #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber x reader #fluff #sore sides #canislupus.txt

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lesbianziggyberman · 2 years

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requests

characters i write for (open to writing anything as long as its unproblematic! only mild nsfw because im too awkward. always fem!reader unless you state you want otherwise in a request)

it (2017) beverly marsh, richie tozier, bill denbrough

stranger things robin buckley(wlw/nblw only), steve harrington, max mayfield, eddie munson

other rodrick heffley, ziggy berman

ianowt sydney novak(wlw/nblw only), dina “no last name”, stanley barber

#stranger things #it 2017 #fear street #i am not okay with this #beverly marsh #richie tozier #bill denbrough #robin buckley #steve harrington #max mayfield #eddie munson #rodrick heffley #ziggy berman #sydney novak #stanley barber #fanfiction #imagine requests #headcanons

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iridescentmauve · 2 years

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iridescent! nineteen, they/she, black.

robin buckley & nancy wheeler's girlfriend!

i write for: the outsiders, marvel, riverdale, stranger things, the black phone, topgun & more ( check tags )!

p.s, i only write for fem! black! reader. taglists.

will write for:

stranger things: mike wheeler, robin buckley, ( platonic only ) will byers, eddie munson, steve harrington, nancy wheeler, lucas sinclair, ( platonic only ) erica sinclair, dustin henderson, max mayfield, chrissy cunningham, el hopper, joyce byers, jim hopper, angela & jonathan byers.

the outsiders: dallas winston, ponyboy curtis, sodapop curtis, darrel curtis, johnny cade, twobit matthews & steve randle.

riverdale: betty cooper, jughead jones, cheryl blossom, tony topaz, sweetpea, veronica lodge & archie andrews.

the black phone: vance hopper, bruce yamada, finney blake & robin arellano.

topgun: bradley bradshaw, pete mitchell, alex seresin & natasha trace.

i am not okay with this: sydney novak, stanley barber & dina.

marvel/mcu: steve rogers, peter parker ( all ), stephen strange, mj watson ( mcu ), gwen stacy, natasha romanova, wanda maximoff, t'challa, kate bishop, carol danvers, druig, makkari, sersi, ikaris.

never have i ever: ben gross, fabiola torres, eleanor wong, aneesa qureshi, evie & paxton hall-yoshida.

twilight: jasper hale, edward cullen, jacob black, isabella swan, rosalie hale, emmet cullen, carlisle cullen, esme cullen & alice cullen.

won't write for:

stranger things: billy hargrove, alexei, murray bauman, carol, tommy, jason carver & dr. brenner.

the outsiders: tim shephard, curly shephard, cherry & anybody that's not on the will write for list.

riverdale: anybody else that's not on the will write list.

the black phone: the grabber, griffin stagg & gwen blake.

topgun: anybody who isn't on the will write list.

marvel/mcu: tony stark, bruce banner, agatha harkness, pietro maximoff & any others that aren't on the list.

never have i ever: devi vishwakumar, eleanor wong & kamala.

twilight: victoria, renesmee cullen, aro, jane, laurent, marcus & leah clearwater.

TOP WORK:

ROBIN BUCKLEY AS YOUR GF IMAGINE.

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robinbuckleyshotgf · 2 years

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[🌼] introduction

[🧃] hey! my name is charlie! i’m gonna use my writing skills on the internet so thats why im here! i hope you enjoy my writing!

[🫧] my rules are very important. if you do not obey them, then it will result in me blocking you. please respect my boundaries and rules.

[🌈] rules:

~ dni if you are an nsfw blog

~ i will not write smut with minors. the only exception is if that they are aged up to over 18.

~ if you are requesting a celebrity and they have boundaries, please respect them.

~ i only do x reader. i can do female, male, trans, genderfluid, gender neutral and other genders.

~ if requesting a reader with a different gender, please specify their pronouns.

~ use your imagination!! make it silly! i really dont mind!!

~ dont sexualise me or send me weird messages in my inbox please.

[🌊] fandoms:

IT 2017- Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Finn Wolfhard, Wyatt Oleff, Jaeden Martell, Sophia Lillis

A Series Of Unfortunate Events- Violet Baudelaire, Klaus Baudelaire, Sunny Baudelaire (platonic only), Duncan Quagmire, Isadora Quagmire, Quigley Quagmire, Malina Weissman

Stranger Things- Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Max Mayfield, Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jane ”Eleven” Hopper, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson, Joe Keery, Sadie Sink, Noah Schnapp, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Materazzo, Maya Hawke

Harry Potter- Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle, Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Tom Felton

Arcane: League Of Legends- Violet (Vi), Jinx (Powder), Caitlyn, Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, Hailee Steinfield

My Hero Academia- Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Ochaco Uraraka, Ejiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Tsuyu Asui, Mina Ashido, Tenya Iida

Heartstopper- Charlie Spring (Only male), Nick Nelson, Ben Hope, Harry Greene, Darcy Olsson (Only Female), Tara Jones (Only Female), Tao Xu, Tori Spring, Elle Argent, Aled Last

I Am Not Okay With This- Sydney Novak, Stanley Barber, Dina (i dont know what her last name is😭)

Metal Lords- Hunter Sylvester, Kevin Schlieb, Emily Spector, Adrian Greensmith, Isis Hainsworth

The Goldfinch- Boris Pavlikovsky, Theo Decker

[🌸] prompts:

~ Angst

”please stop lying to me.”

”i dont care.”

”please dont cry”

”what makes you think i would want to date you?”

”just shut up for once in your goddamn life!”

”am i going to die?”

“when did you fall out of love with me?”

”are you leaving me?”

” dating you was the worse mistake ive ever made.”

”loving you is a fucking death sentence.”

”i shouldnt love you, but i couldnt help it.”

”always knew that you were too damn selfish.”

”i dont know if i can look you in the eyes after what you’ve done.”

”it’s only 2.am..”

”please dont hide from me.”

”dont take another step in my direction.”

”i wish we met before they convinced you life is war.”

”you are the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

~ Fluff

”let me walk you home, hm?”

”i wanted to say i love you without stuttering. but i failed.”

”ugh i cant reach it!”

”stop being so goddamn cute.”

”you dont need all that candy, do you?”

”call me as soon as you get there.”

”did you just- throw salt at me!?” ”im not fucking possessed!”

”cuddles please!”

”hey love, can you help me out?” ”im gay and i need a few dollars”

”thats not true! my wife is a bitch and i like her very much.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

”you motherfucker! never do that again!”

” i have no idea what you are talking about.”

”what the actual fu-“ ”HEY GET OUT!”

“im only here for the dog.”

~ Smut 🌝

“come over here and make me.”

”kiss me.”

”looks like we are trapped in here for a while..”

”you heard me. take. it. off.”

”keep looking at me like that and we might not make it to bed.”

”if we werent in public right now, i would have my head in between your legs.”

”i want to taste you.”

”dont be shy now, sit on my face.”

”is that my shirt?”

“be quiet.”

”use your words, baby.”

”what if someone hears us?”

”oh fuck yes, just like that.”

“need any help with that?”

“were you just masturbating?” - “what?! no neve-“ ”do you want some help?” - “huh?”

“relax.”

”did you come?”

”shut up slut.”

~ Funny Ones🌚

”im not wearing any underwear, thought you would like to know.”

”YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILST I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

”at least we didnt break any laws this time.”

”we are literally fugitives of this state.” - “so no pizza?”

”your pretty.” - “your drunk.”

”excuse you?”

”i might of had a few shots.” - “what they mean by a few is about 20.”

”if you do that again im gonna chuck you out the window- what are you doing?” - “checking how high the drop is to see if its worth it.”

”you ate all my noodles! you’ve lost toilet paper privledges.”

”OI THATS MY HOODIE LOSER!”

”haha thats so funny!” *pulls out gun* ”say it again!”

”DUDE STOP HOGGING THE FUCKING BLANKETS!”

”your bleeding!” - “oh yeah no shit sherlock!”

”for fucks sake- MOVE!”

”hey wouldnt it be funny if we made out right now?”

[⚡️] thank you for reading! have a great day!! :))

220 notes · View notes

kit-nelson-imagines · 2 years

Text

-> rules, prompts and more <-

[🧃] hey! my name is kit and im a young writer :) my friends recommended that i use my writing skills on the internet so thats why im here! i hope you enjoy my writing!

[🫧] my rules are very important. if you do not obey them, then it will result in me blocking you. please respect my boundaries and rules.

[🌈] rules:

~ dni if you are an nsfw blog

~ i will not write smut with minors. the only exception is if that they are aged up to over 18.

~ if you are requesting a celebrity and they have boundaries, please respect them.

~ i only do x reader. i can do female, male, trans, genderfluid, gender neutral and other genders.

~ if requesting a reader with a different gender, please specify their pronouns.

~ use your imagination!! make it silly! i really dont mind!!

~ dont sexualise me or send me weird messages in my inbox please.

[🌊] fandoms:

IT 2017- Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Finn Wolfhard, Jack Dylan Grazer, Wyatt Oleff, Jaeden Martell, Sophia Lillis

A Series Of Unfortunate Events- Violet Baudelaire, Klaus Baudelaire, Sunny Baudelaire (platonic only), Duncan Quagmire, Isadora Quagmire, Quigley Quagmire, Malina Weissman

Stranger Things- Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Max Mayfield, Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jane ”Eleven” Hopper, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Joe Keery, Sadie Sink, Noah Schnapp, Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Materazzo, Maya Hawke

Harry Potter- Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle, Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Tom Felton

Arcane: League Of Legends- Violet (Vi), Jinx (Powder), Caitlyn, Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, Hailee Steinfield

My Hero Academia- Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Ochaco Uraraka, Ejiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Tsuyu Asui, Mina Ashido, Tenya Iida

Heartstopper- Charlie Spring (Only male), Nick Nelson, Ben Hope, Harry Greene, Darcy Olsson (Only Female), Tara Jones (Only Female), Tao Xu, Tori Spring, Elle Argent, Aled Last

I Am Not Okay With This- Sydney Novak, Stanley Barber, Dina (i dont know what her last name is😭)

Metal Lords- Hunter Sylvester, Kevin Schlieb, Emily Spector, Adrian Greensmith, Isis Hainsworth

The Goldfinch- Boris Pavlikovsky, Theo Decker

[🌸] prompts:

~ Angst

”please stop lying to me.”

”i dont care.”

”please dont cry”

”what makes you think i would want to date you?”

”just shut up for once in your goddamn life!”

”am i going to die?”

“when did you fall out of love with me?”

”are you leaving me?”

” dating you was the worse mistake ive ever made.”

”loving you is a fucking death sentence.”

”i shouldnt love you, but i couldnt help it.”

”always knew that you were too damn selfish.”

”i dont know if i can look you in the eyes after what you’ve done.”

”it’s only 2.am..”

”please dont hide from me.”

”dont take another step in my direction.”

”i wish we met before they convinced you life is war.”

”you are the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

~ Fluff

”let me walk you home, hm?”

”i wanted to say i love you without stuttering. but i failed.”

”ugh i cant reach it!”

”stop being so goddamn cute.”

”you dont need all that candy, do you?”

”call me as soon as you get there.”

”did you just- throw salt at me!?” ”im not fucking possessed!”

”cuddles please!”

”hey love, can you help me out?” ”im gay and i need a few dollars”

”thats not true! my wife is a bitch and i like her very much.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

”you motherfucker! never do that again!”

” i have no idea what you are talking about.”

”what the actual fu-“ ”HEY GET OUT!”

“im only here for the dog.”

~ Smut 🌝

“come over here and make me.”

”kiss me.”

”looks like we are trapped in here for a while..”

”you heard me. take. it. off.”

”keep looking at me like that and we might not make it to bed.”

”if we werent in public right now, i would have my head in between your legs.”

”i want to taste you.”

”dont be shy now, sit on my face.”

”is that my shirt?”

“be quiet.”

”use your words, baby.”

”what if someone hears us?”

”oh fuck yes, just like that.”

“need any help with that?”

“were you just masturbating?” - “what?! no neve-“ ”do you want some help?” - “huh?”

“relax.”

”did you come?”

”shut up slut.”

~ Funny Ones🌚

”im not wearing any underwear, thought you would like to know.”

”YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILST I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

”at least we didnt break any laws this time.”

”we are literally fugitives of this state.” - “so no pizza?”

”your pretty.” - “your drunk.”

”excuse you?”

”i might of had a few shots.” - “what they mean by a few is about 20.”

”if you do that again im gonna chuck you out the window- what are you doing?” - “checking how high the drop is to see if its worth it.”

”you ate all my noodles! you’ve lost toilet paper privledges.”

”OI THATS MY HOODIE LOSER!”

”haha thats so funny!” *pulls out gun* ”say it again!”

”DUDE STOP HOGGING THE FUCKING BLANKETS!”

”your bleeding!” - “oh yeah no shit sherlock!”

”for fucks sake- MOVE!”

”hey wouldnt it be funny if we made out right now?”

[⚡️] thank you for reading! have a great day!! :))

102 notes · View notes

robbyswayzekeenes · 7 months

Text

about me.

leo/leonidas. nineteen. any pronouns. enfp 4w3. comfortable with any terms. og miyagi do trio defender (sam, robby & demetri). elimetri stan. not a keenry stan. occasional fanfic writer (more committed on wattpad, less committed on ao3). child of poseidon. jkr hater. always a safe space (unless you’re a bigot!).

mainly a cobra kai blog but sometimes i get excited about other things on here too. mainly young royals. or hsmtmts. i do take requests for imagines/hcs i’m just very slow at writing them. always down to make friends, please drop me a message!. i don’t rp.

frequent hair dyer. noah kahan enthusiast. drop me ck things to discuss in my inbox and i’ll talk for hours. august leo. uni student. 80s film enthusiast. if you know about my tumblr/ao3 you have to pretend not to know about my wattpad and vice versa.

kin list! maya hart. ricky bowen. prince wilhelm. alex mercer. darcy olsson. percy jackson. dante quintana. leo valdez. alex claremont-diaz. stanley barber. ponyboy curtis. alaska young. merlin. robby keene. benji campbell. jack dawson. peter parker. moana. nico di angelo.

#get to know me!

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antisociallilbrat · 2 years

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We're The Losers, And We Always Will Be Chp. 11

Read on Ao3

Chp. 10

Summary: Jacob enter counters a ghost from the past while Freddy visits somewhere he's not sure wants to.

Warnings: F-slur and minor ableism language

It’s hard to not remember Bill Denbrough. If Jacob was to meet Bill in the flesh, he can honestly say he probably would’ve idolized him. Bill Denbrough had a way with words that Jacob will never have. He could rally the troops and inspire goodness in people. Jacob couldn’t even convince a jury that he was innocent. If the real murderer of Ben Riftken hadn’t confessed in his suicide note, Jacob would be behind bars right now. At least then he wouldn’t have to need a cane to walk properly.

Yet somehow, Bill and Jacob are the same person. What a laugh. What would Bill think of Jacob? Of this reincarnation of him? Surely somehow Jacob should know, right? Considering he is Bill.

Bill would want him to protect everyone. Bill would want him to be strong for them. Strong for Stan.

Fucking Stanley Uris. That's all Jacob has to say about him, fucking Stanley Uris. Every time the subject of Stanley Uris breaches his mind, he can’t seem to grab it fast enough before he slips away. There are some solid memories there, like the memory of him reading the short story, and some very solid feelings about Stanley Uris. Yet the idea of who Stanley Uris is or was feels impossible to grasp. He’s like a bird that keeps flitting away before Jacob can finish his sketch of it.

Which just makes his feelings for Stanley Barber that much more complicated. How is it that just last night Stan was falling asleep on his shoulder while Jacob made that very quiet promise to himself to keep Stan safe? That was before he knew what all they were getting into, that promise is going to be a little harder to keep now.

He’s going to keep it. He’s going to do what Bill tried to do but failed at. He’s going to protect Stan, he’s going to protect all of them. He’s going to kill the son of a bitch that killed Georgie. He's going to make reparations for being a bad big brother and failing Georgie in his time of need.

But for now… he’s just lost. Figuratively and literally. Derry is bigger than he remembers. Ironic. Some passersby give him strange looks as he blunders down the streets downtown with no direction but most of them just ignore him.

He’s supposed to be looking for clues to what went wrong during the ritual or the ‘missing memory’ as his mind has dubbed it. Good to know he still has that writer's brain. Wendell also said they’re supposed to be looking for a ‘token’ but he’s starting to suspect that was just said as an extra push to get them to leave the library. Surely the objects in that dresser of his can be used as their tokens? Because why else would Wendell conveniently have items that are attached to each of their past lives? Maybe this just a ploy to get them searching and Wendell hopes one of them will trigger the Missing Memory because Jacob can't imagine why anyone would willing try to remember the start of their downfall. Their gruesome deaths. Necessary or not.

This would’ve been easier if they had buddied up but everyone seemed set on going their own ways when they left the library. Emotions were high, it’s for the best that everyone takes a moment to cool off.

Speaking of cooling off, why is it so damn hot? This is Maine, the summers aren’t supposed to be this blistering. Sure, he could take his jacket off, but the ugly scar that runs down his arm may connect too many dots for some people. He’s not that recognizable but he doesn’t need some fucking true crime junkie spotting him and making all this that much harder. People love to ask about what really happened in his and his mom’s car accident. She tried to kill them both. Maybe Bill deserv -no, don’t go there.

He hasn’t felt this lost since his trial. The fate of his life is once again up in the air, except this time instead of prison, it’s death by a shapeshifting monster who killed him in his past life. The only solace is this time he has some semblance of control over the outcome. They will figure out why the ritual didn’t work last time. They have to.

Up until now none of the buildings he’s passed have stuck out to him, just a blur of gray background, but it’s hard to miss orange construction cones jutting out onto the sidewalk. He’s not paying attention and his cane accidentally snags on the corner of one and he quickly has to catch his balance. The building is built side by side with the others in a strip fashion, but large tarps cover the windows and roof making it almost seem like a circus tent. Stacks of wood and buckets of paint block one of the doors. The window on the other door is covered in a white paper. There’s only a sign in the front of the building declaring what it is. It’s almost unrecognizable, but it’s the Aladdin.

His head feels like it's been dunked underwater. Too many memories and voices flood his mind. Taking deep breaths he focuses on one that seems to be the loudest. An argument (not a real one of course) between Stan and Richie. Bill and Eddie just stood by and watched, knowing better than to get between them.

“I heard that one of the main characters gets her brain torn out through her nose! Through her NOSE I tell you!”

“Beep beep Richie!”

“What?! Oh ho ho Stanny boy you’re not scared are you? Of a little ole zombie movie?”

“I just think you’re being grotesque for the sake of it! We’re about to see this stupid zombie movie, I don’t need you acting this way before it’s even started!”

“....I think you’re being a scaredy cat.”

“Richard I am not scared of a stupid movie!”

Stan was in fact scared of that movie. In the safety of the darkness of the theater, Stan clung to Bill's hand for comfort. At first, he just allowed it but by the end of it, he wished he would have plucked up the courage to put his arm around Stan and pull him close, protecting him from the bad special effects and latex makeup. He hated to see his friend in so much distress. They were fourteen at that time and by the time they were sixteen, unknowingly just months away from Bill moving, he finally got that courage.

Vaguely he can recall another, smaller theater somewhere else in town. Was it in a bowling alley or maybe it was in an arcade? He can’t remember exactly where it is but he does remember the reason they went to that one was only that it was easier to sneak into nudie flicks. He was a teenage boy, of course, he enjoyed those.

The sign out front also, and what feels like desperately, says, “Yes! We're open! Just Renovating!” in pretty cursive. Undeath in much more uniform lettering states, “Currently playing: Black Rapids; the movie adaptation of the novel written by Derry’s own Bill Denbrough,” followed by a list of show times. What are the odds? Great odds apparently because the next showing starts in a few minutes. Jacob tells himself it's for research purposes when he enters the theater, not just an excuse to get out of the heat. How can he not see this movie?

The inside of the theater isn’t any better than the outside. Caution tape blocks off two of the showrooms and there are even more buckets of paint. There’s an abandoned claw machine game covered in a thick layer of dust with moth-eaten stuffed animals inside it in the corner. No ones going to try to win those prizes. It smells of wet dog and he feels like he needs to shower just from standing in here. The carpet has been ripped up, leaving concrete, so the tip of his cane echoes, click clack click clack.

The pimple-faced attendant hears him and looks up from his phone where he slumps against the concession counter. He doesn’t bother hiding his annoyance at the fact Jacob has decided to inconvenience him by forcing him to do his job. He scowls at Jacob as he approaches the counter.

His words want to get stuck in his throat but he forces them out, “Hey can I g-get a ticket for Black Rapids?”

Pimple-face grunts at him and rings him up, “$8.50, do you need refreshments?” he ices out of obligation. Jacob knows better than to say yes but also he sees the popcorn machine behind the counter and it has as much dust as the claw machine. It wouldn’t be that funny if he died from food poisoning.

Jacob shakes his head and hands the attendant exact change. The attendant waves his hand towards the only open showroom and he takes his cue to leave. The showroom turns out to be the best room in the building disaster wise. The floor is sticky and the screen has stitches from where it’s torn and had to be sewn together but the smell of wet dog doesn’t linger in here.

He sits in the back and waits for the film to start. For someone who wrote the book this movie is based on in his past life, he has no idea what it's about. Kinda exciting. A small part of him feels guilty because surely the others are out reliving God knows what awful memories and having life-altering realizations about themselves and Jacob…he’s managed to square himself away to watch a movie. It’s for research.

The movie starts up shortly and like the old school films, the projector starts up and starts counting down, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, before the screen goes black. A melancholy piano tone starts up mixed with the sound of rain, and the screen fades to a woman looking out the window, appearing sad by the stormy weather. Jacob sits up in his seat and leans closer, regretting sitting in the back.

A man in the background of the film talks to her, complaining about the weather and how it has not stopped raining in months but Jacob doesn’t care. Right now he could care less about the movie, not when she is on the screen. Fuck, what’s this actress’s name? He knows her! His mom loved her old-time movies but Jacob never cared about them. Why does he care now? His mom talked about her once and stopped after she realized neither he nor his dad was listening. She had a tragic story, his mom loved tragic stories, until their life became one, something to do with the fact she stopped making movies at young-ish age. Why?

It clicks all at once when her eyes look towards the camera and deep into his soul. Audra Phillips stopped making movies after the sudden disappearance of her husband Bill Denbrough.

“The Audra Phillips is starring in your movie!” His agent Chuck tells him, practically yelling it over the hotel’s landline, “I gotta be honest with you Denbrough, when the movie studio approached us about wanting to turn Black Rapids into a film, I thought ‘Sure why the Hell not? We all know this movie would be about as successful as a film about nothing but pigs rolling around in shit’ BUT now that Audra Phillips has signed on to star, maybe this forsaken thing stands a chance!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Chuck,” Bill replies. He leans back in his desk chair in his too-fancy hotel room and rubs his face. Why did they have to fly him out to Hollywood? It’s not like the scriptwriters are begging for his opinion on how to adapt his book. And to be frank, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about this project. He’s only in it for the check. If this movie is successful or not doesn’t affect him. His writing won’t be blamed for it, the studio will. Freshly twenty-three and with his first published book on the bestseller list, with the promise of more to come, yeah a shitty film will easily be overlooked on his resume.

Maybe if this film is a flop, movie studios will leave him alone and he can finally finish his next book, The Dark. Bill Denbrough doesn’t care for Hollywood so therefore he doesn’t care who is starring in this project.

Chuck isn’t pleased by Bill’s lack of enthusiasm. “Listen to me Denbrough, do not scare this lady off!,” Bill huffs at that, “Word is she wants to meet with the crew before production starts and that includes you!” Chuck cuts off any indignations Bill has before they start, “Tomorrow morning you’re going to get your ass up and be on-site at 10 A.M. sharp! You’re going to put on your most charming smile and kiss all the proper asses and be a good little writer!”

If this was anyone else Bill wouldn’t tolerate this treatment, but this is Chuck. The same guy who landed his first book deal with a major publisher by using flattery and craftiness on the right people. And not to mention he cleaned up the mess that was left in the wake of Susan Browne, Bill’s first agent. So he grunts out an agreeing sound and hangs up the phone before saying goodbye.

The landline immediatly rings again, Chuck is probably red in the face pissed that he hung up on him. Meaning that the phone won’t stop ringing until he answers or Chuck finally gives up. It’s a good thing he can leave the room. He can’t hear the phone ring if he’s at the hotel bar.

The hotel he’s staying at is ‘fancy’ but it’s a little weird in that off-putting way that only Hollywood can master. The bar area is designed to look like a mishmash of a hunting lodge and being out in the woods. Why is that the theme of a bar in a fancy hotel somewhere where woods and hunting are irrelevant? Because it’s Hollywood, that’s why.

Bill doesn’t like the woods. He moved to Boston when he was sixteen with his parents and fell in love with the city. Anything before that is nothing but a blur that he doesn’t care enough to remember.

He plops down on one of the bar stools designed to look like a tree stump and orders a scotch. Chuck just said he had to show up tomorrow, he didn’t say anything about not being hungover. He’s on his second glass of scotch and staring down at the coo-coo clock on the wall across from the bar. The long hand hits the hour mark right as he feels the presence of someone coming to sit next to him.

The bird bursts from its little door, hooting and swaying before retreating. A giggle comes from side of him, “Well that was a funny little yellow bird,” the lady says in a soothing British accent.

“I think it’s supposed to be a Yellow Warbler,” he says without looking at her. His nose scrunches up as he tries to think about why the Hell he even knows what a Yellow Warbler is.

She hums at him, nothing to add to his observation, “This a funny place I’ll tell you that. You Americans and your obsession with the outdoors, I’ll never understand it.”

He turns his head her way, ready to remark how the Brits have funny tendencies of their own, but it dies on his lips when he sees her and her beauty. Instead, he smiles at her, “That we do, that we do. I’m Bill by the way,” he extends a hand to her.

The smile she gives him is radiant and she shakes his hand. Her skin is soft. “You wouldn’t happen to be Bill Denbrough would you?”

“The new famous bestselling writer? Yes, I am him.”

She giggles at his boldness, “Well that’s very convenient then. I’m Audra Phillips and I think I’m starring in your movie.”

That night they stayed at the bar till the bartender kicked them out and they landed back in Bill’s room. They didn’t exactly go to sleep that night. The next day they were both late to the site but Chuck didn’t give him shit for it. Not when he walked in with Audra and poorly concealed hickeys on his neck.

Audra Phillips was his wife. The one he left when he got the call to come back to Derry without a second thought. The one he completely forgot about the moment he got back here he saw Stan again. How could he have done that to her?

Eaten by the guilt he digs his phone out of his pocket, desperate to see what’s happened to her and where she is now. She stopped making movies after his disappearance but that doesn’t mean she lived an unhappy life. God, he hopes she had a happy life after him.

Jacob’s heart drops to his stomach when he reads the headline of the first article. “Audra Phillips, the former starlet actress, dies at seventy-four.” The articles are dated from a little over a week ago. Audra died the same day Wendell came to Newton to retrieve Jacob.

He taps on one of the articles, desperate to know more, and the article gives him the information he didn’t even think it could have. There is no vagueness about how she died as it states plainly that she shot herself in the bathtub on the twenty-seventh anniversary of her husband's disappearance. It goes on to say how tragic and how odds are that Audra just couldn’t continue living without ever knowing what happened to her husband. Jacob has broken out in a sweat.

“So would you have told me the truth if I promised to love you no matter what?” His mom’s voice rings out. It takes him a moment to realize it came from the screen and not just in his head.

The scene has changed. Audra is no longer staring him down, it’s his mother's cold eyes. “Tell me, Jacob, did you kill Ben?” She’s standing in his bedroom at home and the whole scene feels wrong.

He just watches in terror. This is the first time he’s seen his mom since she tried to kill him. He knows this can’t be actually happening but she looks so real. She looks just like she did during his trial. Her hair is dull and thin. She stopped taking care of it because of the stresses of what was happening to their family. She has gaunt cheeks from not eating and sunken bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep. Her eyes used to hold so much light and love for him, now they just bore into him, anguished that her attempt to kill him failed.

Her lips pull back in a sneer at his lack of an answer, “If I just knew the truth! Tell me! Did you kill Ben?!”

The word “No!” somehow tears its way through his throat.

“What if I said I don’t believe you?! I know you killed Ben! I know you did!” On-screen the closet door of his bedroom opens and Ben Riftken, rotting with his blood-stained shirt, comes toppling out. Behind him, a much smaller figure missing an arm and is dressed in a yellow rain jacket follows closely.

Ben’s jaw falls open and what remains of his tongue works to hiss the word, “Faggot.” His empty eye sockets hold nothing but contempt for him.

His mom sickeningly smiles at the newcomers, her teeth has grown sharp, as they come to stand on either side of her. They almost look like some twisted family portrait. “But we both know Ben wasn’t your first victim, was he? No, no, even living as Bill Denbrough you left a trail of bodies in your wake. You got all of your friends killed just because you couldn’t handle the fact that you killed your little brother. You killed Georgie!”

He leaps to his feet, “Muh-Mom please-!”

“You should have died when I tried to kill you! You’re the real monster here! You’re just going to get them killed again! You’re a murderer!”

His breath is coming out in quick pants and he covers his ears, terrified that she’s right. He’s just going to get them killed again. “No no no no no-”

The voice of his mom is still tearing into him as the small figure steps forward. With the arm he has left he lowers the hood of his rain jacket, revealing his face. This is the first time he’s seen Georgie in this life, and it’s some twisted, corpse-like version of him.

“Billy is that you? Did you really come back?”

Oh, how he would do anything to have the real Georgie ask him that. His bottom lip trembles and he grasps his cane so tight his knuckles turn white, trying to ground himself into reality. He’s not Bill Denbrough anymore, he’s Jacob Barber and Jacob Barber is not going to fall for one of It’s tricks. Not again. “You’re nnn-not real!”

His mom falls silent and Georgie appears taken aback by Jacob’s outburst. Only till the anger, It’s anger, flashes across his face and it’s like a bomb went off. “I’m real! I’m real! I’m real!” Corpse Georgie tantrums.

“You fucking faggot!” Ben hisses.

His mom starts her verbal attack again, “You’re a murderer! I should have aborted you! You deserve to die!”

It’s when Georgie starts screaming in a distorted voice, “You lied and I died! You lied and I died!” and Ben starts to reach out of the screen towards him with his decrepit hand, does Jacob finally flee.

He bolts out of the theater and in the lobby trips over his own cane. Click clak, click clak! The concession stand attendant actually bothers to ask him if he’s okay. Jacob ignores him and scrambles to his feet, desperate to get away from…all of it. He’s out the door and gets two blocks away as fast as his stupid stuttering legs will allow him before he takes a rest.

Sitting on the curb he tries to get his heartbeat and breathing under control. He hasn't had a panic attack like this since his trial. His head is lowered between his legs and he sees water splatter on the gravel. It came from him. He didn’t realize he was crying. He allows himself one deep shuddering sob before scrubbing at his face furiously. Now is not the time to cry.

With a deep ache, he misses Georgie. This little boy who he hasn’t even met in this life. That’s just how impactful Georgie was. A ball of light that It snuffed out. Hell, he even misses his mom. It’s easy to pretend like her being gone doesn’t affect him, especially after she tried to kill them both, but he misses her. They were happy, him and his parents, and It took that from them when It made sure no one would ever see Jacob as anything but a murderer.

If It’s plan was to scare Jacob away, It failed. He will avenge Georgie. Now he can add Audra to that list, he’s going to kill It for her too. Her death was not just a suicide, not when it was on the same day Wendell came to him. If It can do that then It can also get to his dad. Another person he’s doing this for.

But It was right on one aspect. He’s fucking terrified that he’s going to get the Losers killed again. This time has to be different, he knows they’re all needed for the ritual, but right here and now he promises he’s going to protect them all this time. Even if that means giving his life.

Deeming himself more put together he struggling stands. Only to see that Freddy is standing a few feet away and obviously has been for some time.

“Uh hi?” Freddy shuffles on his crutches, “You looked like you were having a moment so I didn’t want to interrupt. Because honestly you look like you’ve seen a ghost and after what we saw this morning I guess that wouldn’t have been that far-fetched.”

Jacob grins at him, “Yeah s-s-s-s-” he coughs, “Something like that.”

“Well that’s cool, I’ll add ghosts to the list of things to be scared of in this hillbilly backwoods town.”

He chuckles and is appreciative of the fact that Freddy isn’t prying into what just happened to him, “You’ve started a list?”

“Oh yeah! Do you want to hear about what’s on it so far?” Jacob nods at him, “Besides the obvious, there are douche cops, diners with tables that haven’t been cleaned in literal years, and the fact that they don’t have a comic book store here. Which is just a personal fear but it still counts. Not to mention I went into this pharmacy, had a very strange interaction which-” his voice trails off and gaze looks far away for a moment but then he snaps back into himself, “Anyways not focusing on that, it was just weird and creepy.”

“Why did you go into a pharmacy? Were you looking for your token?” He remembers Eddie spending a lot of time there in their first life.

Freddy looks almost bashful, “No I was looking for a stupid map of this town,” Jacob notices the paper smushed between one of his hands and his crutch, “I know I’m supposed to be hunting for my token or clues about what happened last time but…but there’s just one place I have to see and apparently haven’t remembered the layout of this town yet. Whoop de do!”

“Where are you trying to see?”

He doesn’t meet his eye, “I want to go to the graveyard and see where my mom is buried. Well technically, where Eddie’s mom is buried.”

Jacob studies Freddy for a moment. In their past life, they were best friends, they were each other’s first friends starting at the age of four. Bill was the only kid Sonia deemed well-behaved enough to ever be let over into her home for extended periods. It’s easy to remember coming over to spend the night at Eddie's when they were eight. Sonia said Eddie was too sickly to spend the night anywhere else and they were too young to know better. He can still feel Eddie gripping tightly to the back his shirt on the first day of Kindergarten, terrified and hiding behind Bill. He remembers sneaking candy bars over from his Halloween bag because Eddie wasn’t allowed to trick or treat. And how after the disappearance of Georgie, Eddie was the first person he went to. Years later when Eddie was questioning his sexuality, he went to Bill for comfort and clarity.

He doesn’t know much about Freddy but it’s impossible not to feel the essence of Eddie radiating off of him. Chaotic, stubborn, and has such a big heart. He doesn’t know Freddy but he would die for Freddy. Just like how Bill would for Eddie.

So it’s easy to ask him, “Would you like some cuh-company?”

Comic books have always been a great source of escapism for Freddy growing up. He would sneak into the stores and read as many as he could before the store clerk shooed him away. Sometimes when he had the money to spare he would allow himself to splurge on them.

He remembers the comic with the main character that annoyingly looks like Richie- Mike? He was reading it the night that Mike entered the homeless shelter. It was his favorite but now he’ll forever associate with the Losers. That comic was comforting to him, the ragtag group of friends conquering the monsters, where the heroes always won. Maybe subconsciously he was always seeing the Losers in between those pages. He can only hope they can conquer their monster just like those heroes did.

When Wendell told them about why they were really called back to Derry, he was terrified. He still is. His first instinct was to flee and never come back because why would they put themselves through this again? Just pass it down the line and hope that in his next life he’ll be braver. Maybe Syd was wrong, maybe nothing bad happens to them if they don’t fight It this cycle. That last part he knows is just him trying to be optimistic.

The reason he didn’t run is that first of all he doesn’t have the means to run, Wendell brought him here and he can’t afford a bus ticket and second of all…they need him. They need all seven of them for the ritual to work. Freddy has never had any friends, but he’s not about to let these people down. The bonds with these people run deep enough to transcend literal lifetimes, he can feel that. For the first time in his life, he finally feels like he’s home. A big deal for a former foster kid. There’s nothing for him back in Philadelphia, but maybe there’s something for him here. Something here with Mike. He’s willing to stake his life on this because it’s all he has.

“You’re braver than you think.” Richie's words echoed in his head when he made his decision to stay. It was as if his soul was waiting for him to decide to stay before recalling that moment between them. Richie would tell him he was brave but Richie never realized it was him and the Losers that made Eddie brave.

Freddy has never as much questioned his sexuality up until he first came to Derry. When you’re in the foster care system, romance isn’t on your mind because you’re too busy trying to survive. There’s also the fact for Freddy that almost everybody who looks at him just sees his crutches and considers him broken which means no one has ever been romantically interested in him. And the thing was he didn’t care.

He half expected himself to have some sexuality crises when he found he had dated Richie when he was Eddie. He didn’t. His feelings for Richie/Mike aren’t that complicated. He loves him still because he doesn’t think he ever stopped loving him. Even when he didn’t remember him.

Mike is the complicated person, just like Richie was. Richie with his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude, Eddie knew it was often a front. He remembers the nights when Richie would break, so scared of how hard the world was going to be on them just because they loved each other in a way not ‘acceptable’ by society. He didn’t act like it, but Bowers’s insults of ‘fairy’ and ‘faggot’ got to Richie. You would never guess it because Richie extruded confidence, but he was riddled with internalized homophobia.

Just like Mike. It kinda feels like they took one step forward and two steps back. Except Mike has it worse than Richie did. He can feel it, he thinks Mike may just break his heart. He knows Mike knows what they were to each other in The Before. That didn’t stop him from dropping his hand at the bridge. Maybe it’s Eddie’s love and security in Richie he's feeling, but Freddy can’t help but hope that Mike will come back to him. That Richie will come back to him. Idly he wonders if Mike ever gave in and put on those glasses, his vison was starting to mess him up pretty good.

When he left the library this morning, Richie wasn’t the only person on his mind from The Before. His mom, Eddie’s mom. Now her, talk about having complicated feelings for someone.

The memories are still coming to him in bits and pieces and… they’re not the greatest. So many days in and out of the hospital because she was convinced he was sick. The placebos. They’re gazebos! They’re bullshit! The embarrassing times she would drive up to the school to yell at the coach because he let Eddie run. As a child, he just saw this as his mom showing her love for him in her own special way. As an adult, he saw these things for what they really were, a means of manipulations.

The thing is though, Freddy doesn’t have a mom, and he’s actually ill. It’s own personal punishment for him. His mom in this life left him at the hospital the moment she found that the baby she just gave birth to was going to be chronically ill his whole life. As Freddy, he never once felt a moment of motherly comfort which leaves his feelings for Eddie’s mom convoluted.

His mom is buried here in Derry and he keeps telling himself that if he can just see her, his feelings will right themselves. She died when Eddie was only twenty-eight and any sort of relief he could feel over that was quickly eclipsed by Myra. He’s not going to give that one second of his time. To Freddy, Myra was even worse than Eddie’s mom. He doesn't care enough to find out what happened to her.

It was just him and Myra that attended his mom’s funeral in Derry and they didn’t even stay the night. The moment Eddie stepped into the Derry city limit, there was a feeling of wrongness and being there too early and he left the city quickly because he didn’t want to think about why he felt that way. Then after a while, he completely forgot his mom was buried there. A visit is due.

If only he knew where the graveyard was.

Freddy could google map it but he doesn’t have a smartphone so going old school it is. Part of him tried to avoid going into the pharmacy but he only came across one gas station and they didn't have a map, so where else was going to have them?

There was only an old lady behind the counter smacking on her gum with her dentures, her skin leathery from years of smoking, sitting at the counter in the pharmacy. When she bothered to look up from her magazine, her eyes turned to daggers. She watched him as he approached the counter, not unlike how a cat watches a bird.

No one to sign your cast? So sad.

Lo(V)er.

Freddy knew exactly who she was. Even in her old age, Greta Keene has the eyes of a bully. Being in the pharmacy left him feeling uncomfortable, like it was some sewer drain that Freddy constantly feels like he’s been circling. Especially in The Before. With the way she was looked at him, there’s no way she knew he was once Eddie Kaspbrack, right? The same boy she would call a ‘pansy ass’ in school. But there was recognition in her gaze and it was not kind.

He got to the counter without either of them saying a word. She looked him up and down, stopping to leer at his crutches and a huff of amusement bubbled up from her chest. As if he was exactly what she was expecting, but that would be impossible. Or so he kept telling himself.

“Your usual Eddie?” she asked over her wad of gum.

What. The. Fuck. There’s no way he heard her right. Greta Keene looks so old that she’d have trouble recalling what she ate for breakfast, let alone remembering faces from her childhood. Bullies never forget the faces of their victims. He blinked back owlishly at her. One of her eyebrows was arched in judgment and he realized he has to say something, “It’s Freddy, not Eddie.”

Greta blows a bubble with her gum, the look in her eyes indecipherable. Now he’s getting a little frustrated. Obviously, she’s trying to get under his skin and he won’t let her! Not in this lifetime!

“Do you have a map I can buy or not?” He asked, tilting his chin up.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a map from the counter. With a posthaste he snatched it from her and dropped his crumpled bills on the counter and leaves, not bothering to wait for change. He’s not going back in there, that place is filled with nothing but bad memories.

Now that he had an idea of where he was going, he started on his way. Which only led him into running into Jacob. Jacob who was pale with red-rimmed eyes. He decided to give the guy a moment. He looked like he needed it.

And that's all that led him to where he is now, standing in front of Sonia Kaspbrack's grave. Jacob stands a little ways back, returning the gift of privacy. The sun is starting to set and the air is cooling. With Freddy on his crutches and Jacob’s cane, it took them longer to get here. He thinks Jacob was thankful to not be the only slow one for once. He’s seen how Jacob struggles to keep up with everyone.

They didn’t talk much on the way here, Jacob was mentally somewhere else. Freddy didn’t feel like talking either, too busy replaying every awful memory he had starring Greta Keene. She loved to target Eddie and Beverly. There is small satisfaction in knowing at least she never escaped this hick town, they deserve each other.

Her favorite time to target him was when Richie or Bill wasn’t around. Richie would purposely make Greta uncomfortable till she left them alone and Bill wasn’t afraid to throw harsh words back her way. Bill had always protected Eddie, ever since Eddie moved down the street from him when he was four. His first friend.

He challenged everything Eddie was. Bill was rowdy and impulsive while Eddie was quiet and cautious. Bill saw a spark of chaoticness in Eddie and knew exactly how to pull it out. Bill would lead the reckless adventures and at first Eddie would yell for safety at Bill but soon he was yelling with him. He felt like he was flying when he rode on the back of Silver, clinging to Bill’s back. Bill instilled courage and self-assuredness in him and Eddie loved him. Bill was the brother that Eddie never had and he would die for Bill Denbrough. He ended up dying with Bill.

Which explains why Freddy has always felt this sense of trust in Jacob. When they first met he thought maybe it was just because they both had mobility difficulties, but it was more than that. It’s because Jacob is Bill and just like with Mike, Freddy never really stopped loving his unofficial brother.

In Philadelphia, he remembers Jacob’s trial being on the news on the t.v. of the foster home, the one he was he was in at the time. All the kids in the home watched it because the foster mom didn’t believe in any other t.v. besides the news and there wasn’t anything else to do. Over dinner one night he got into a heated argument with one of the other foster kids who was talking about how they hoped Jacob was convicted. At the time he didn’t know why he cared so much but deep in his bones it felt wrong to hear the kid hoping for Jacob’s downfall. He knew Jacob was innocent. Freddy never stopped to wonder why he knew that because he was moved to a new home not long after and the argument and Jacob were forgotten.

Jacob must remember him, right? The people he's remembered the most about are Richie and Bill, and he really wants to Jacob to remember him too. He looks over his shoulder at Jacob who’s currently studying some of the nearby graves. Jacob has to have at least an inkling of a memory of their friendship. Not just the Loser’s friendship but of Bill and Eddies. That’s why he offered to come with Freddy surely.

“You good?” Jacob asks him, eyebrow raised.

Shit, he didn’t realize he was staring. His eyes flit back to his mom’s grave, words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them, slightly embarrassed, “It’s just so surreal to be here in front of her grave. My mom ditched me the moment she found out she was going to have a cripple for a son but if I was born this way when I was Eddie, this mom would’ve eaten that shit up. She would’ve loved to have had a cripple for a son.”

As he studies Sonia Kaspbrack’s gravestone with its overgrown weeds and years of grime- no one has come to visit her in a long time or to take care of her resting place, he feels Jacob’s presence come up beside him. “If you were this way in The Buh-Before, she would have never let you out of your house and we would have never met. She just would have tried to control you more than what she already did, in the name of your safety.” Jacob’s voice has a twinge of anger in it which surprises him.

He may not want to think about it but Jacob’s right. She would’ve been impossible to deal with if there had been something actually wrong with Eddie. Yet still, there’s a part of him that grieves that motherly affection. In a way, it was robbed of him in both lifes. He has to remind himself that Sonia’s actions weren't out of love, but a need for control.

Jacob's next question catches him off guard, “Do you miss her? Eddie’s mom?”

He honestly doesn’t know. Is it her he misses or does he just feel like he’s missed out on the basic guaranteed love everyone else is supposed to get? To have that woman who kisses your boo-boos and when she tells you everything is going to be okay you believe her. That’s all the answer he has to give.

Jacob hums, speaking slowly as if he’s crafting each word, “It’s okay if a part of you does miss her and it’s okay if no parts of you miss her. And if you don’t know, that’s okay too. She was your mom and that just means that all those awful things she did feels like a deeper betrayal. Even so, sometimes you can’t stop yourself from feeling like a little child looking for comfort in their mom’s arms, just remember that you are not that child anymore.”

The funny thing is, Jacob, sounds like he’s also trying to remind himself of that. Freddy is reminded of Shannon Denbrough, Bill’s mom. How she all but abandoned him after Georgie’s disappearance. Yes, Bill had a roof over his head but that’s all his parents provided him with. Bill never acted like his parent’s (particularly his mom’s) neglect ever bothered him but Eddie knew better. Eddie knew Bill best. Jacob hasn’t had a good mom in either life too.

He knows of Jacob’s car accident, and he knows his mom was driving, who is no longer around. That’s it but it’s not hard to piece them together. Jacob’s cane and scars are a constant reminder to him of what his mom did to him. Freddy’s heart hurts for him. Part of him wants to ask if Jacob is thinking about his mom right now but he already knows the answer. It’s etched across Jacob’s face.

So he does what he does best and tries for levitivity, “Do you remember sneaking me candy? After you went trick or treating? Shit, it was the first Halloween Stan and Richie were with us. I had a cold so my mom wasn’t letting me out of the house but that didn’t stop you from coming over the next day and sharing your candy.”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Jacob chuckles, “You ate all of my skittles, to the point you were physically sick. Georgie was upset about it because he planned on stealing mine too. My skittles were never safe.”

Freddy smiles, he forgot about his and Georgie’s shared love of the rainbow pieces, “Yeah well I ended up buying him a big bag of them with my weekly allowance as payback,” he shrugs off, “Remember when my mom found out that you snuck me your candy? That was one of the only times she ever got mad at you.”

“Yeah, because usually whenever you would get in trouble or do something 'unsafe', even if I was the cause, she would blame Richie,” Jacob says Richie’s name cautiously.

That’s some memories he wishes he could forget. She hated Richie, saying he was a sick boy. He truly believes that on some level, Richie scared her. He scared her because what he stood for, Eddie's way to freedom. Fuck, he remembers Sonia chasing Richie out with a broom one morning when Richie snuck through his window. She is the reason Eddie forgot he was gay when he left Derry.

“He’s going to make you ill, Eddie Bear! Stay away from his disgusting germs!”

“I’ve heard about what people say about that Tozier boy in town, that is not the kind of boy you need to associate with! He’ll contaminate you with his queerness!”

“She couldn’t stand him,” he says weakly.

“Well she was a bit of a bitch,” he’s heard Jacob cuss and speak plainly before but this still catches him off guard, “Sonia’s real problem was she despised anything fun. So ax Richie right out of her picture of ‘perfect’. Richie made you happy and that’s all that mattered to the Losers, especially to Bill. She can get bent.” For a moment he sees a flash of Bill across Jacob’s face, dead set determined eyes when he’s willing you to believe what he’s saying. His ‘hero rant’ is in full effect.

The way Jacob is looking at Freddy tells him he knows what Richie and Eddie were to each other. Eddie may have gone to Bill when he started to question his sexuality but he never explicitly said who was the cause of it. Bill knew Eddie best though. He’s tempted to tell Jacob that he also knows about what was going on between Stan and Bill, particularly when they were adults when they returned the first time, but he doesn’t think even Bill was quite aware of what they were. For now, he remains quiet.

“Yeah well she was right on one thing, Richie was annoying,” he mutters.

Jacob shakes his head with a smile on his face, like a parent amused with his kid’s antics, “Whatever you say Eds.”

Freddy beams at him.

It’s almost completely dark at this point and he can barely see the gravestone so there’s no point to stay. Also, his stomach is growling so he’s ready to head back. Maybe the other Losers had better luck finding the memory or their token. Or tonight's dinner. Jacob beats him to it, “You wanna head back to the library?”

He agrees and they start to make their way out of the cemetery before Freddy stops in his tracks. Feeling like a bad friend he’s about to offer that they can stay at least a little bit longer so that Jacob can visit, that had to be why he was studying the graves earlier. He stops himself before he makes that mistake as he remembers something else.

Jacob looks back at him quizzically and he waves at him to continue, “Sorry I thought I saw something.” Jacob looks at him for a moment longer before moving on.

Earlier Jacob was looking for a grave that isn't here. Freddy almost forgot but Georgie isn’t buried here. He’s still stuck down in the sewers with It

A/N: Can you tell I have mommy issues?

Okay look I have a ROUGH summer but I hope this monster of a chapter made up for my absence (This chapter is almost 8k)

Also the pharmacy Freddy visited was the same one Stan went to get cigarettes, they just went at different points at the day (Wait till you hear about Stan and Mike's encounter with Greta)

I'd like to say I'll update soon but...I'll try. I promise

#bill denbrough #eddie kasprak #freddy freeman #jacob barber #reddie #stenbrough #shazam #defending jacob #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chap 2

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canislupus-exe · 2 years

Text

Glad You Came | stanley barber

>>gif credit to @/232p on tenor<<

fandom | I Am Not Okay With This

character | Stanley Barber

reader | they/them (she ver.)(he ver.)

requested | Anonymous

warnings | none

word count | 635

keys | (Y/n) = Your name, (g/n) = guardian's noun (ex: mom, dad, grandma, etc.)

summary | FLUFFY STANLEY B X READER WHERE THE READER IS PLAYING WITH STANS CURLS AND SMELLING HIS HAIR WHILE STAN IS SPOONING THS READER. THANK YOU ❤️♥️❤️♥️

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

Keep reading

Stan yawned as he pulled his ancient car into the driveway of his house. Once it was off, he leaned his head on the steering wheel. It was a long day at work, and he couldn’t wait to get inside and pass the hell out. A tap on the window met his ears and he was ready to explain to his dad why he was home so late, but when he looked up he saw a much more pleasant sight. It was you, the person he loved more than anything else in the world. He painstakingly rolled his window down, every torturous minute cursing their impracticality.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. You laughed and opened the door of his car.

“This would’ve been much easier than rolling the window down you know?” You replied. He frowned as he realized that you were right. And thus began the equally torturous dilemma of winding it back up.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He said as he pulled his keys out of the ignition. You smiled.

“Is it a crime to want to see my boyfriend after his arduous day of work?”

Stan gently shut the car door, minimizing the sound in hopes of not waking his father up. He turned around and drooped his arms around your waist.

“I suppose not.” He replied, kissing your forehead. You give him a goofy smile as a blush spread across your cheeks.

“My (g/n) said I could spend the night if that’s alright with you.” You said as you draped your arms around his neck.

“Hm… I’ll have to check if my dad is sleeping, so wait here.” He replied, giving you another kiss on your forehead. He walked to his front door and pulled out his keys, unlocking it as quietly as he could. He peeked his head inside, having a clear shot of his father passed out on the couch. He smiled and motioned you over, to which you happily complied. He opened the door and put his finger in front of his lips, telling you to be quiet. You nodded before quickly and silently making your way to his room.

You took off your shoes and sat on his bed, making yourself comfortable. It was incredibly inviting, especially after having walked all the way from your house to his. Sure, it wasn’t an insane trip, but it was late, and you were oh so tired. After a few minutes, he joined you with a large smile on his face.

“Took you long enough.” You teased. He chuckled and locked his bedroom door.

“Oh Stanley, you’re not trying to pull a fast one on your dear old partner, are you?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. His face blushed slightly before he flopped himself on his bed.

“I just don’t want my dad to come in. You know he’d throw a fit if he saw you here.” He replied. You silently nodded and placed your hands on his head, which was conveniently close to your lap, and began to massage his scalp. He sighed in relief as he turned his body so he could hug your legs. You laughed and continued to play with his curls, a fond smile adorned your face as you looked down at him.

Your constant ruffling and massaging of his hair made the scent waft up to you, and you realized he must’ve washed it recently. It smelled distinctly of pine, and you silently cursed yourself for being such a romantic that you recognized it. This man had you at your knees for him.

“I’m glad you came.” You heard him say, but his words were muffled by your thighs. You smiled.

“Me too.”

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annie-bby · 2 years

Text

𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟐𝟐/𝟎𝟗/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

happy autumn everybody <3

—————

WHO I WRITE FOR:

glee:

rachel berry

santana lopez (female reader only)

quinn fabray

brittany s. pierce

finn hudson

sam evans

noah “puck” puckerman

mercedes jones

tina cohen-chang

kurt hummel (male reader only)

blaine anderson (male reader only)

stranger things:

steve harrington

robin buckley (female reader only)

nancy wheeler

mike wheeler

dustin henderson

lucas sinclair

will byers (male reader only)

eleven hopper

maxine “max” mayfield

cobra kai:

miguel diaz

robby keene

tory nichols

samantha “sam” larusso

eli “hawk” moskowitz

demetri alexopoulos

i’m not okay with this:

stanley “stan” barber

sydney “syd” novak (female reader only)

dina bryant

bradley “brad” lewis

jenny tuffield

—————

requests open, i don’t write sensitive subjects nor do i write nsfw.

headcanons r my fav to write but i don’t mind writing fics/imagines either but they’ll take a while to post :)

thank you for reading and feel free to request anything in my “ask me anything” box:)

#stranger things #glee club #im not okay with this #cobra kai #information #love you <3

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paladinsbrainrot · 1 year

Text

Idiot will byers also holds a very keen spot in my heart. sometimes I like to imagine him as stanley barber wiggling his shoulders and giving cringey thumbs-ups to Mike in the hall before a big presentation just to embarrass him... uhfdsibhajshajk

#byler #ally talks

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asteriismos · 2 years

Note

stanley barber w a choking kink headcanons?😳

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES EYESEFAUIHDFGIUAHSDIF

I feel like this is something he kinda keeps to himself

like you don't know about it for a while

OR OR OR he says it when you two are getting high with one another someday

"choking is so hot" like right out of the blue

and ur like wym by that

but also internally ur like HOT HOT HOT HOT

so you two try it

and OMG it's so hot literally

even though he's not the largest guy ever

he has really nice hands

and it fits great around your throat

when he's fucking slowly into you

his hand will come up and squeeze with just the right amount of pressure

and he'll continue whispering dirty stuff in your ear

he never goes hard enough to hurt you of course

you two have a good understanding

it usually happens when the two of you are going a little more rough

which isn't all the time

sometimes it comes up when you're just making out

he'll choke you and pull your face up to kiss you better

with those sloppy kisses that make you melt

#stanley barber #stanley barber smut #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber headcanon #stanley barber x reader

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just-jordie-things · 4 years

Text

All I Need My Baby (And A Cigarette) - Stanley Barber

word count: 12,795 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) (y/l/n) and Stanley Barber may be neighbors, but they haven’t been friends since they were children. Stan plans on changing that, even if (y/n) is a bit more of a popular girl now. He’s pretty convincing though... and charming... + based (very loosely) on this song ___

[ i never read ya ]

“Hey, sunshine!”

When (y/n) answered the phone, she wasn’t expecting such a delighted voice on the other end. She honestly thought that it was going to be Dina, calling her to invite her over, maybe even to go dress shopping, since homecoming was just a week away.

But of course it wasn’t Dina. Dina was busy. With Brad.

“Stanley?” She asked, confused to have heard his voice. “How’d you even get my number?”

Stanley Barber was… well, he was a strange guy. They lived on the same street, with Sydney Novak’s house just a block away from his. Because of their proximity, she’d known him her whole life.

When they were kids, they’d walk to school together. She supposed their parents didn’t want them walking by themselves at such a young age. When they were in middle school, they had a few classes together, and more often than not, would partner up. Since they were both outcasts, it was easier than trying to find someone who wanted to work with them. She found a certain comfort in having Stan around and always willing to work with her.

And now, in high school, he made it a point to say hi to her on her walk home from school. Sometimes he’d even walk with her, usually telling her about his weird day, sometimes giving her a record to listen to. But she wasn’t the same person that she was when they were kids. She had grown up a lot, matured. And with that came a natural beauty that the people at school flocked to. With beauty comes popularity, and so he didn’t see her around as much.

They were friends, kind of. They were friendly acquaintances.

But not close enough for him to be calling her.

“Syd gave it to me,” He answered. “You want to come over?”

“What?” She asks, like she didn’t understand the question.

She finally sits up from bed, since she’d been laying there since she got home from school. Pulling the cord on her phone with her, she looked over at the clock. 8:15.

“It’s kinda late” She says, like that’s the only reason stopping her from going over to his house right now. They got along, but they didn’t hang out together, and she’s certainly never been over to his house.

“So?” He replied. “It’s the perfect time of night for a drive”

“A drive?” She asks. “You don’t have any other friends to ask?”

“If I wanted to ask someone else, why would I ask you?”

“That doesn’t make sense” (y/n) sighed, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes.

“You want to hang out or not?” He asked.

She mulled it over for a minute, weighing her options. It was either stay in bed the rest of the night, or go hang out with an almost total stranger.

“Alright,” She sighed, kicking off her blankets. “I’ll be there in a few minutes”

“Great!” He replied, before hanging up the phone.

As she got up to go, she wondered if she should change, since she’d worn these clothes all day and then came home and slept in them. But it was just Stanley, who cared if Stanley thought she looked like a hobo in her messed up sweater and jeans.

So with that, she pulled on her shoes and headed out the door.

It was pretty chilly for september, so she walked quickly to Stan’s house. And when she arrived, he opened the door before she could even knock.

He looked neat and disheveled all at once. In a tee shirt and bright yellow cardigan, paired with trousers, and… bare feet. She couldn’t decide what was more odd, his lack of shoes or the sunglasses on his head even though the sun had already set. She gave him a confused once over, but he spoke before she could.

“Ready?” He asked, an excited grin on his face.

“I guess” (y/n) shrugged back.

He nods, walking outside and shutting the door behind him.

“I know a really great place to smoke, if you want. If you smoke, I don’t wanna like, peer pressure you, or anything” He suggested as they walked up to his car.

“You’re not going to wear shoes?” (y/n) asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nah, who needs em” Was all he said, before opening the passenger door for her.

(y/n) thanks him quietly as she gets in.

His car smells like pot, and somehow, fruit. Something citrusy that she can’t quite place. It’s a strange combination, but something about it was all the more perfect for his car.

Stan gets into the driver's seat, and starts the car with an eager bounce. (y/n) can’t help but chuckle a bit.

Stanley Barber was one odd duck.

“So have you thought about uh, you know, homecoming?” He asked, drumming his thumbs on the wheel.

“Homecoming?” (y/n) repeats softly. “No, why?”

“Just wondering,” Stan replied with a shake of his head. “You know, cause some people are already asking dates, and stuff”

“It’s kinda far out” She mumbles, eyes casting out the window.

“Well, you know, a week,” Stan responds. “But yeah, it’s so weird that it’s our last one”

“I’m pretty relieved. Dances aren’t really my thing”

“I guess its your last chance to make it your thing,” He says. “If you wanted to”

(y/n) looks over to him curiously, and for a second she thinks that he’s asking her to homecoming, before she realizes that it’s a dumb thing to assume, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t want to” She answers.

She wonders if this is enjoyable for him. Sitting in near silence with her, and only getting short answers. Sure, she knows she could be more talkative, if she wants to. But she didn’t understand why he wanted to hang out with her of all people.

Finally he parks the car, and she looks up to see that they’re parked under an overpass, in front of a large graffitied painting reading Brownsville on the cement wall. Her brows furrow as she gets out of the car and follows him up to the wall.

“Why here?” She asks, and Stan hoists himself up on the ledge.

She mimics him, sitting next to him while he fumbles through his pockets. She just watches him, a curious glint in her eye. But it felt the longer she spent trying to figure him out, the harder it was. Like his personality was changing every five minutes.

He pulled out a case, and popped it open to reveal to her a couple of blunts, and a lighter.

“You smoke often?”

“No,” She hums in response, taking the blunt and lighter when he offers them to her. “Not in a year, actually. I kinda… uh… stopped”

She puts the blunt to her mouth and flicks the lighter, before taking in a deep breath, inhaling for as long as she could hold it. She handed them back to him, before letting out a slow exhale, and watching the smoke dissipate into the air.

“And here I am pressuring you into smoking again?” He asked, taking a quick puff.

“It’s not like that,” She said quietly, shaking her head. “I just um… never really felt like it anymore,” She continued. “And I think that once I realized I was on my own I didn’t want to risk um… feeling worse, you know? Like I didn’t want those feelings amplified,”

Stanley nods, but he doesn’t comment. That was the most she’d said to him all day, and it felt… heavy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We should hang out more often,” He says before she could regret opening up. “I don’t know why we haven’t before”

She looks over at him, taking the blunt when he offers it to her. Her brows are knitted together, but there’s an awkward smile on her face, like she was trying to conceal it but it slipped out anyways.

“Because we’re strangers” She answered, looking down at the half-smoked blunt in her fingers, before taking another hit.

“We’re neighbors” Stanley said, like it was supposed to change everything, and make them friends.

“Not really,” (y/n) shrugged. “I’m a couple houses down from you”

“So?” He replied. “We grew up together, we walked to school together. In the movies we’d be, like, best friends by now. Probably even dating”

Her head jerks around, a wild and confused look in her eye as she tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“Dating?” She repeats. “You and I? Did you not hear the part about us being strangers?”

Stan chuckles, and takes the last hit of the blunt.

“I’m just saying” He says nonchalantly.

“You could be an axe murderer” Her voice is softer than it should be, and she’s suddenly too shy to look at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, both gazing out at the dark town, trying to find the stars in the cloudy sky. It feels like it should be a beautiful night, but it isn’t. It’s cold and foggy. It’s ugly.

“But you came out with me anyways” Stanley speaks up, far too delayed.

(y/n) looks at him again, a smile tugging on her lips, betraying her. She doesn’t look away this time, she just keeps smiling at him.

They walk around town for a while, even though everywhere is closed, and after smoking another blunt they’re a bit too faded to do anything anyways. So they just talk, and enjoy the silence when it would settle between them.

“What’s your favorite band?” Stan asks, while (y/n) is balancing herself on the curb of the sidewalk.

Her arms are outstretched as she takes each step, wobbling a bit more than she would have had she been sober.

“I don’t know, it changes a lot,” She answers. “Maybe Tame Impala. Or Cage The Elephant”

“Good answers,” Stan says, while he’s skipping between walking on the curb with you and walking on the street. “Now you get to ask a question”

“Alright…” She muses, letting her mind wander to a good thing to ask him.

She knows she could string together any words and he would be eager to answer, but she racks her brain for a good idea anyways.

“Will you move when you’re older?” She asks him.

He’s walking in the street now, but he’s so tall that when she turns to look at him she’s barely looking down.

“Like, out of Brownsville?” He asks, and she nods. “Well ideally, of course. Wouldn’t you?”

She nods, but something about the way her eyes softened lead him to believe that she wasn’t so sure.

“There’s not a whole lot of opportunity here, don’t you think?” Stan says, “I mean, what are your options for a career? Working at the school? Or waitressing? That’s not a life for me. I’d be a terrible waitress”

“You’d be a waiter, Stan” She says, but he dismisses the idea.

“No way, I’m moving outta here first chance I get”

“Do you know where you’re going to college?” She murmurs, but he ignores that too.

“It’s my turn for a question, don’t break the rules,” He chided playfully. “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“That’s your question?” She giggles, still the tiniest bit high.

“You have to answer it, it’s the rules”

“Yeah yeah,” She shakes her head. “Maybe going to Ricky Berry’s party, I don’t know”

“Really? You?”

“Doesn’t that count as a question-?”

“You just don’t seem like the party type,” He says before she can scold him for breaking his own rules. “Since you have a thing against fun”

“What? I don’t have anything against fun-” Again, he doesn’t let her finish.

“You do too,” He argues. “You hate homecoming, you didn’t want to hang out tonight, you’re a funsucker”

(y/n) laughs, and shoves at his shoulder, effectively losing her own balance and stumbling to walk in the street by his side now. Neither of them say anything as their arms swing against each other from their close proximity.

“I am not,” She mutters. “I just don’t have… friends”

“What? Yes you do”

“No I don’t” She replies with a bitter laugh.

“You have more friends than me,” Stan says. “Aren’t you buddies with Dina? You’re a popular girl you know”

“Me?” She laughs again, shaking her head wildly. “No, no I’m not,”

She wishes she’d brought a jacket, had she known they’d be walking around town in this weather then she would have. But she settles for wrapping her arms around herself to preserve warmth.

“And I’m not really Dina’s friend anymore” She adds in a softer voice.

“Oh” Is all Stan can think to say. He doesn’t know how to ask her what happened without making it awkward, so he doesn’t.

It’s quiet again as they head back to his car, but not totally uncomfortable. She’s getting used to being in silence with Stan, and finds that it’s nicer than being in silence at home alone.

“Are your parents gonna be upset that you were kept out late by a possible axe murderer?” He asks when they get in the car.

“No,” She says with a small giggle. “They’re out of town on a joint business trip”

“Oh, cool” He says, nodding his head.

“They have been for the past week,” (y/n) adds.

Oh.

“Sometimes I wonder if sometime they’ll go and just… not come back”

Oh.

“You could move in with me” Stan suggests, without really thinking. He wants to blame it on the pot, but his high wore off twenty minutes ago.

She turns to him, that same confused look on her face that she kept giving him earlier. The words linger in her mind for a minute before she lets out a soft laugh, and shakes her head.

“You’re so strange, Stanley Barber” She muses

[ you said i’m different, i’m difficult ]

Ricky Berry was not a friend of (y/n’s), although more often than not he did seem to think he was. Like right now, approaching her in the living room, offering her a bottle of beer.

“No, thanks” She says, pushing the bottle away.

“Since when do you not drink?” He asks with a smirk, the kind that makes her want to slap him until it goes away.

Her brows furrow and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not in the mood” She forces out between her teeth.

Ricky puts his hands up as though he’s surrendering, and this only deepens her newfound hatred for the boy. She didn’t hate him before, she just didn’t like him and his rich-kid bullshit personna. And she didn’t like the way he treated her like there was something between them, like they’d ever been friends. They were hardly acquaintances. She couldn’t tell you a damn thing about him besides that he was on the football team, and she only knew that because of the way he paraded around town in his dumb letterman’s jacket.

He chuckles, drawing her back to reality from the dark thoughts currently swimming in her mind. Like what it would feel like to break her hand punching him in the face.

“Are you enjoying the party?” He asked her, and before she could even answer he spoke up again. “Did you come alone?”

Her eyes narrow on his figure for a moment, before she regained control of her disgust.

“I was having a fine time,” She lies. “And no, I didn’t” She lies again.

“You brought a date?” Ricky asks with a chuckle, like he doesn’t believe her.

And he doesn’t believe her, because as beautiful as the enigma that was (y/n) (y/l/n) was, she was unattainable, and he knew that better than anyone else. She was an anti-social rose. Pretty, but didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.

“Maybe,” She answers bluntly, quirking a brow at him. “What’s it to you?”

Ricky mistakes her irritation for flirtation, and makes the poor choice of grinning down at her, and taking a bold step forward. Without hesitation, she steps back, putting the foot of space between them again.

“Well, had I known you were finally looking for someone to bring you to these sorts of events, you know, as sort of a… boyfriend figure… I would have applied for the position”

She knows he’s trying to be suave, but she can’t help the bubbling laughter that almost erupts from her chest. She’s lucky to have contained it shaking her head and looking away from him. She can’t believe he’s this much of a tool, it’s almost too amusing.

As she looks away from him, her eyes catch another figure, and her mood lifts instantly.

Stanley’s standing in the middle of the living room, wearing the cutest baby blue suit she’s ever seen. He looks very out of place, and a bit lost, but when his eyes meet hers, he seems to relax, and he gives her a welcoming grin.

“- and anyways, I think I’d be an excellent choice for you, (y/n). I mean, let's be real, you’re royalty, I’m royalty, and we’re a perfect match. I could treat you like a princess, you know-”

“Gotta go,” (y/n) says, holding a hand up to Ricky’s face to silence him, already turning to head away from him. “Oh, also, your application has been rejected, so sorry,” She tells him with a giggle that she just couldn’t hold back. “You just weren’t a good fit”

She’s still laughing as she wanders off towards Stan, who seems puzzled by her laughter, but he’s just glad she approached him.

“Wow…” She says, looking him up and down. “Look at you”

“It’s nice, right?” He asks, smoothing his hands over the lapels of the jacket.

(y/n) nods, raising her eyebrows and grinning as she looks back up at him.

“So, what’re you doing here?” She asks him. “I didn’t peg you as the party type either”

“I’m not any type,” Stan shrugs. “I just felt like getting out of the house, and here is better than sitting at the overpass by myself”

“You want to snag a couple drinks and get out of here?” She asks, and the shock on his face makes her laugh, and quickly shake her head. “Not like that, dork,” She says, “Let’s just take this party somewhere else, it’s not my scene”

“It-it’s not my scene either” He agrees, and she grins.

He likes this side of (y/n). The bubbly side, where she smiles and laughs and isn’t so afraid to talk to him like she had been before.

As he followed behind her to the kitchen so they could steal a couple bottles of anything they could get their hands on, he couldn’t help but look her over.

She’d swapped out her sweater and mom-jeans for a black sheer long sleeved button down, and much skinnier jeans. He had to force himself to look away before studying the shirt enough to see her skin beneath it. Not that it was hard, it was a very light and see-through material.

He wondered for a minute if she wore it to be looked at, and then his mind wandered off to the image of her and Ricky talking a few minutes ago, and how close they were standing.

“Are you and Ricky like… a thing?” He asked.

Her head popped up from where she’d gone digging through the fridge.

“What?” She asks, exasperated from a question that shouldn’t have been difficult. “No, gross” Her brows furrow and her lips curl into a slight snarl, and Stan feels relief spread through him that she looks so disgusted by the idea.

She hands him two bottles, and snags two of her own, and then points towards the back door so they could sneak out easily.

“Do you know any other good hiding places?” She asks, pushing her hair back behind her ears when the breeze whips it in her face.

“I know lots of great hiding places,” He responds. “But I think I have the best idea for a new one”

“Great” (y/n) grins, and they get into his car to drive off to another mystery place.

It’s chilly, but she rolls the window down, and leans her head out of it to enjoy the night. The clouds from last night had disappeared, revealing the stars, and she grins as her eyes count them. It’s useless, but it passes the time, because Stan’s been driving for a while.

He keeps casting glances over at her, letting his mind wander to all the beautiful things about her he’s never really noticed before. Sure, she was gorgeous, that was common knowledge. You only needed eyes to know that.

He hadn’t gotten to see her in the moonlight last night, and he sure is glad that he can now. Her eyelashes cast shadows over her cheekbones, which, in this lighting, are even more defined and frame her whole face like she’s the subject of a painting.

He thinks she should be the subject of a painting.

Her hair flies around from the wind, but she’s given up on holding it back, and just let’s it do whatever it wants. Every few minutes her eyes would close contently, and he wondered what thoughts she was getting lost in, but he didn’t ask, he lets them be private.

When he finally stops the car, (y/n) looks out to see where he’s taken them.

“The water tower?” She asks, helping him with the beer.

“Yep” He replies with a proud grin, and heads up to it.

As she watches him go, her eyes catch to where he’s heading to, and she jogs to catch up to his side.

“We’re going up there?” She asks when he steps onto the first rung of the ladder.

Her eyes wander up to it’s height, and she feels dizzy just looking at the ledge that the ladder leads to.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” He asks her, putting a beer bottle in each of his pockets.

“No,” She answers him quickly. “I just… don’t want to climb a hundred feet on a fifty year old ladder” She adds in a weaker voice.

“Do you want to go first?” He asks, stepping off the ladder and gesturing for her to go ahead.

“What, am I supposed to believe you’ll catch me if I fall?” She asks in a bored tone.

“At least I could break your fall” Stan shrugs, and she laughs nervously.

With one more glance up to the top, she lets out a shaky sigh, and nods her head.

“Okay” She mumbles.

She tucks the bottle of beer in her jeans, neck first. They hit her stomach awkwardly with every bar she climbs, but there’s no way she’s getting up there and not drinking.

“You’re doing great!” Stan calls from a few feet below her.

“Please don’t encourage me” She says, and keeps up the motion of climbing as best she can.

She doesn’t want to look down, or outwards. She doesn’t want to look up either, but that’s better than seeing how far from the ground she is. It takes quite a while to get to the top, and when she grabs the last bar, she lets out a cheer, and quickly scrambles onto the ledge.

There’s about three feet of metal landing that sticks out from the water tower itself, and much to her relief it’s surrounded by a barred gate. She’s quick to sit down, taking the bottles out of her jeans and placing them beside her, while he wraps her arms over the bar.

Stan sits beside her not long after, cracking open one of his drinks and smiling widely at her. She opens one of her beers as well, and clinks her bottle against his while he’s drinking from it.

“I can’t believe you got me to come up here” She sighs, swinging her legs around comfortably.

“It didn’t take that much convincing,” He told her. “Give yourself some credit, you came up here on your own choice”

He smiles at her like he’s proud of her, and makes a blush dust along her cheeks.

“You’re right, that was really brave of me,” She said, only partially teasing. “But I wouldn’t have come up here if it wasn’t for the company,” She tells him sweetly. “So thanks, Stan”

She touches her bottle to his again as though to cheers to him.

“Right back at you” He says, trying to be slick, but he’s getting nervous and his voice is softer than he intends it to be.

It’s quiet, and (y/n) leans forward to rest her chin on top of her arms, still holding onto the bar. She’s enjoying the view, the peace and quiet. This is the perfect hiding spot.

“The height doesn’t seem so bad once you’re up here,” She murmurs, and Stan hums in agreement. “I feel like it works that way with everything. Things aren’t so bad once you get through them, you know?” She’s thinking aloud, not looking for a response, or even an acknowledgement of her letting her thoughts run free. “I hope it’s like that with this Dina thing. Like once I move on and tell myself I’m enough for me, it’ll be easier,”

She looks over to Stan now, but his eyes are trained upwards, scanning over the stars. She smiles at him, even though he doesn’t see.

“And I think it’ll be easier now that I’ve met you,”

He looks at her once she says that, his cheeks pink, and his brown eyes rounded with curiosity and hope at her gentle words. They remind her of a doe’s eyes, if only for a moment.

“I’m glad I met you,” She hums. “Like, really met you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you sooner”

“It only would’ve made you run away sooner” He jokes, a short laugh falling from his lips, but he can’t laugh too much because she just said the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him and his heart is swelling up like a balloon in his chest.

She giggles with him, but shakes her head.

“Nah, I wouldn’t have,” She says, and then takes a long drink of her beer. “You have too many good hiding places in plain daylight to run away. Hiding right in front of people is what I’ve been dying for, you know”

“Like Ricky?” He asks before thinking.

The soft smile on her face falls, but she clears her throat and tries her best to neutralize her expression. But she tries too hard, and Stan notices.

“Yeah,” She mumbles. “But I guess from everyone now,”

She looks away from him, gazing with a heartbreaking fondness out at the sleeping town before her. From the thick land of trees they’d driven through to get here, to the dimly lit houses, the old buildings. She always thought Brownsville looked like the generic sort of town you could slap onto a postcard and say it was from anywhere in the midwest.

“I used to be able to be myself with Dina,” She said, almost out of nowhere. “She was my best friend, it’s what she’s there for right?” She asks with a bitter chuckle. “And then Brad asks her out and… steals her away from me”

(y/n) leans forward to rest her head on her arms again.

“That’s… bullshit,” Stan says. “Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear”

“No, you’re right,” The girl whispers. “It is bullshit. Because we promised we wouldn’t change for each other, but now… now she’s popular and going to football games and pep rallies and- and that’s just not me. I don’t know if it's her either… maybe it is now, I don’t know… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to vent-”

“It’s fine,” Stan says quickly. “You can vent as much as you want. It’s just us up here, might as well get it out of your system, right?”

She grins over at him, and raises her glass before finishing it off.

“Anything you have to vent about, then, Stanley Barber?” She questions.

“Nope,” He shrugs after thinking about it for a minute. “For the first time in a while, I actually kind of like my life. I like that my dad’s gone 25 days out of the month, I like getting to know you, I feel good”

Her grin only widens at the compliment, and she’s blushing again but she’s not as embarrassed by it this time.

They opened up their second bottles, and clicked them together as the last toast for the night.

“To liking life,” (y/n) muses. “And to us, of course” She adds.

“Cheers,” Stan nods before they both take a drink. “So here’s my first question of the night”

“Shoot”

“What’s Ricky Berry want with you, anyway?” He asks. “Like… is he actually into you or are you a conquest- oh my god, I take that back, I don’t mean it like-”

His nervous ramblings stop when (y/n) begins to giggle, almost choking on her drink.

“No, no, you’re good, I don’t take offense,” She assures him. “Ricky Berry is… well, besides a tool, he’s a character, in the book of my life,”

The drinks are starting to get to her, just a little bit.

“He’s the guy that tries and tries and tries, and he grows and learns from his mistakes, learns what I don’t want to hear and what’s not working, but somehow, he just finds ways to make new mistakes. Not once has he asked me out in a coherent- or even normal- manner. It’s always some line, or some dumb look that he tries”

“How long has this been going on?” Stan asks, his brows furrowed a bit.

The idea of Ricky ‘Icky’ Berry asking (y/n) out repeatedly pisses him off.

“Nuh uh, it’s my turn for a question,” (y/n) murmurs, drinking as she thought. “Oh, I know. What’s your favorite memory?”

“Easy. When mom was around and she’d make blueberry pancakes before school,” He says, maybe too fast. “It sounds sad, but… no one could make them like her”

She gives him a warm smile, and reaches out to set her hand over top of his from where it was lying at his side.

“It’s not sad. It’s sweet. That’s a really good favorite memory”

He nods, reminiscing in the pleasant image in his head.

“Your turn now,” He says abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his own thoughts. “How long has Ricky been chasing you around?”

“Oh, I don’t know, two years now, maybe?” She muses. “I try not to pay him too much mind. It’s not so important to me”

“Yeah, but… it’s kinda gross that he’s so persistent” Stan says with a cringe.

“You think so?” (y/n) asks. “I mean, it’s annoying, but it’s never been, like, aggressive, or anything”

“Don’t you think it's the constant hitting on you that makes it aggressive though?” Stan asks. “I mean, he knows you’re not interested, he should… um… stop” His voice gets quieter towards the end of his sentence, and he’s worried he’s crossed a line, since (y/n’s) gone silent.

“I guess so,” She finally whispers after a long moment. “I never really thought of it like that”

She takes a few drinks of her beer before setting it down, and moving on to her own question.

“Do you and your dad not get along?”

“Nope,” He answers with a bark of a laugh. “We never have. Sometimes I think when I was born he changed his mind on having a baby, and held it against me personally. But it’s okay. I resent him too and I barely have to see him. So. Win-win”

She wants to be sad for him, because it’s unfortunate that Stan doesn’t get along with the only parent he has left. But he just seems so… happy. And she can tell he’s come to terms with it. So instead she puts on a happy face, because she’s happy for him that he’s made his peace.

She’d like to make her peace with her parents some day.

“Your turn” She murmurs.

“Alright. What’s your deepest, darkest secret, (y/n) (y/l/n)?”

She raises her brows at the bold question, and the use of her full name, but she thinks it over carefully.

“And no lying!” He hastily adds. “That’s not in spirit of the game”

“My deepest darkest secret…”

There’s lots of secrets she could share. Secrets of her own, secrets of her parents, the few friends she had, hell, her whole life had been keeping secrets. But now that Stan was asking for one, she didn’t know what to say.

“I used to dream about running away,” She settles. “It probably started when I turned seven, that’s when my parents started talking about having another baby, to feel satisfied again. I was pretty young to feel so…”

She blanks on the word she’s looking for, and Stan’s nervous to hear what it was.

“...worthless,” She finishes in a murmur. “So I would walk up to the bus stops in town, memorize their schedules, just in case I ever needed to make a quick break. And as I got older I… entertained the idea a little more. Leaving earlier for school, just to walk long, new paths, ones I could use someday to skip town without anyone knowing. And when I would walk home I would stall, wander more new places, anything to keep me from seeing them so soon,”

She smiles to herself, remembering the little adventures through Brownsville she would take when she was younger.

“One time after school, I walked around town until six o’clock,” She told him. “When I got home, I told my mom I was with a teacher and had to stay late,” She licked her lips as her eyes met his, a small, watery smile on her lips. “She checked the time, she hadn’t realized I was home so late- three hours late,” She whispered. “I was ten”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan muttered.

His hand twitched under hers. He wants to hold her hand, properly, fingers intertwined, but he was nervous she’d pull away from him if he made the move.

“Why didn’t you run away?”

“That’s a good question,” She says with a bittersweet laugh. “I don’t know. I certainly wanted to… hell, maybe I still do,”

She glances at him again, before whispering.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll stay a little longer”

He smiles back at her, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander the features of her face.

“So,” (y/n) lets out a short sigh, before asking, “What’s your deepest darkest secret, then?”

“Don’t laugh,” Stan groans. “And compared to yours, this is lame as fuck. But… I have bacne”

(y/n) raises a brow, and she does have to hold back a laugh because she can’t believe that’s all he’s got.

“What?”

“Yeah”

“Like…”

“Like zits on my back and shit, yeah. It sucks. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through, and that’s saying something, (y/n),” She giggles at his dramatic tone, covering her mouth with the hand that wasn’t laid over his. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. There’s no cure, I’ve done everything possible. I just have to hope adulthood fixes me”

She’s still laughing, to the point where when it finally dies down, she has to take deep breaths.

He watches her shoulders rise and fall in sync with her chest, and how her fingers reach to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had welled in them from laughing so hard. And still, he thinks she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

She pushes her hair behind her ears, and turns to him once she’s calmed down, only to find his eyes are already focused on her.

“What?” She murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

“I… uh… I have my next question” He says, eyes flickering between hers, and the grond far, far below them.

“Go for it” (y/n) grins, eager to hear what strange thing he’s come up with this time.

“Will you, um, if you want, would you want to maybe, um, go to homecoming?” He asks, and it’s choppy, but he lets out a short breath of relief for just getting it out in the right words. “With me?” He adds as an afterthought.

The smile on her face slowly falls, and despite her heart beating profoundly in her chest, she lifts her hand away from his.

He regrets it. He wants to take it back but he knows he can’t, not without humiliating himself any further. He wishes that he could pinch himself and wake up in bed, and find that tonight was just some wild dream meant to lift and then crush his spirits.

It wasn’t a dream, but his spirits were still very crushed.

“Stan…” She whispers, and he prepares himself for the blow.

I don’t like you like that. You’re just a friend. Why’d you have to make this weird?

No matter what she ended up saying, it would hurt the same.

“It’s fine, I get it” He shakes his head, not even wanting to hear her excuse.

“You shouldn’t… it’s just…” (y/n) sighs, and closes her eyes while trying to find the right words. “You just shouldn’t get involved with me, that’s all,” She whispers so softly that it’s a faint mumble to his ears. “It’s complicated… I’m complicated”

You aren’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it.

“It’s really fine. I know it’s not your thing” He says, just wishing she’d stop trying to make him feel better.

“Yeah,” She mumbles. “You should go with someone that wants to go and- and have a good time with you, you know?” She says. “Someone that will actually dance and not just sit on the bleachers”

He looks over at her, forcing a smile on his face.

“And here I thought that you weren’t as much of a funsucker tonight,” He teases, making her smile too. “You really sit during dances?”

“The one that I went to, yes,” She laughs quietly. “It’s really not my thing,”

It’s comfortable between them again, which they’re both incredibly grateful for. But Stanley’s hopes are still ruined. He’d really thought she’d say yes, he had prepared earlier tonight, and even knowing that she had a thing against homecoming he’d thought that maybe he could be her exception. Apparently not.

She throws back the rest of her beer, hoping that the tension that she’s now created between them will go away on it’s own. It wasn’t Stanley’s fault, she knew it was her own for turning him down like that.

And truth was, a part of her did want to go to the dance with him. It actually sounded… nice. But the other part of her, the sensible part, reminded her of what she was getting into. She knew that she wasn’t the easiest person to be around, she would go out and have fun every once in a while, but eventually she’d hole herself back up in her room and be antisocial for weeks on end. Not to mention how bad it would get once her parents came back. Reflecting on herself, all she saw was drama, and problems. It wasn’t fair to Stan for her to involve him in her messy life.

“I have a question for you” She speaks after a few minutes of them drinking in quiet.

“I have an answer” He responds.

“How do you think I’m supposed to get down from here?”

Stan begins to laugh, and she lets out a few nervous giggles with him, but ultimately stares him down for an answer.

“I’m serious,” She said. “There’s no way in hell I’m climbing down that ladder”

Her eyes were wide and her brows were raised, waiting for him to give her some alternative solution to getting back down to earth. Which didn’t involve jumping, or the ladder.

“Oh shit, for real?” ___

[ you said i’m missing you ]

Over the next three days, (y/n) made it a point to see Stanley more often. In the halls she’d say hi, and if she had time to kill she’d walk with him to class and talk about all the random things he likes to talk about.

They hung out a few times in the library, and she started sitting with him at lunch too. It earned her a few looks, but no one said anything about it. Not that she cared, she enjoyed Stan’s company, and she wanted to seek it out more.

So on Wednesday night, instead of going to bed early, she decided instead to walk down to the bowling alley. She’d heard him complain enough about working there to remember, and thought it would be nice to surprise him.

She was surprised that the doors weren’t locked when she got there, since it closes at nine on weeknights, and it was nearing ten o’clock now. She could tell Stanley was surprised when she walked in, too.

“We’re closed- oh, hey” He smiled when he realized it was only her.

“I think part of the ‘locking up’ duties is actually locking up” She teases him as she wanders inside.

She’d never actually been to the bowling alley. To be there you either had to have been invited to a birthday party when you were a kid, or have friends and family to go with. She had neither.

When she takes a seat at the alley Stan’s currently cleaning up, it’s then that she notices the black and blue shiner on his eye. It’s a little faint, sure to disappear in a day or two, but once it catches her eye she can’t hold back the gasp.

“Oh my god, Stan, what happened?” She asked, already flying up from her seat to get a closer look.

He seems confused by what she’s asking for a moment, and then turns his head away before she can study it too hard.

“Nothing- it’s nothing, don’t worry about it” He tried dismissing it, picking up two of the bowling balls left behind.

(y/n) frowns as she watches him walk away to put them on the proper shelf.

“Stan,” She calls, her tone more demanding this time. “What happened? Who did that?”

“It seriously doesn’t matter, (y/n),” He responds, and she can tell he’s getting annoyed, but she doesn’t really care. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore”

Something about how his voice drops, and he can’t look at her while he busies himself with cleaning up, just gives her the answer. It clicks in her head like a lightbulb moment, and she finds herself grabbing his wrist so he’d stop moving and actually look at her for a minute.

“Was it your dad?” She asks, voice barely rising above a murmur.

She knows she’s right, she can feel it. She didn’t even know his father was back for the weekend, and it’s unexplainable who she assumed such a thing so quickly, but Stan’s sigh confirms her answer.

Her hand slips down from his wrist to grasp onto his, but he rips it away and walks back to the counter to continue cleaning.

“We don’t have to talk about it-”

“We’re not” He said before she could finish.

It’s not what she wants to hear, they both know that, but she doesn’t want to push him, so she doesn’t.

“Do you want any help cleaning up?” She offers instead, anything to ease his mind and help him out.

“I’m almost done,” He says while wiping down the front counter. “Just gotta lock up before I go”

She nods, and it goes silent between them while she stands and watches him work.

It’s not a comfortable silence, like she’d gotten used to with him. The air feels heavy, and she’s drowning herself in her own worries the longer she stands there. Stan can’t bring himself to look at her, he’s too ashamed, too nervous, and he knows that her eyes are full of tears and her brow is furrowed in concern- he thinks he might cry if he looks at her like that for too long.

“Stan?” She says softly, and he casts a short glance towards her, before quickly staring back down at the counter he’s wiping. “Could… could you drive me home?”

It’s a simple question, and she doesn’t necessarily need the ride. The walk to the bowling alley was a short ten minutes, and she didn’t mind walking at all. But she didn’t want to be alone, and more importantly, she didn’t want him to be alone. A ride home wouldn’t be too bad, anyways. She did live on his street.

“Yeah” He answers, just as quiet.

He finishes up cleaning, then motions for him to follow her out the door.

She walks close behind him, and waits patiently while he locks the front door. The walk silently to his car.

It’s weird that music is playing while neither of them say anything. She wants to turn it off, be in total silence. But maybe the music makes it less awkward for him.

The drive is short, and before she knows it he’s pulled up outside of her house.

“Thank you” She whispers out, but she’s still sitting in the passenger’s seat, and has made no move to open the door and get out.

“No problem” He mumbles back, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel while he waits.

She knows she has to either speak up or get out sooner than later, and it’s already been way too long to just sit here and do nothing. So she takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“You know that you can… you could always um… come stay with me,” She says, eyes flickering over to his anxiously. “If you wanted,” She added in a softer whisper. “My parents are out of town till the end of the week… so… you could stay until he’s gone”

He gives her a short, weak smile in response, and nods his head.

“Thanks,” He says quietly. “But uh… it’s fine. He leaves me alone, I mean, he’s got it out of his system, so…”

(y/n) nods her head uncomfortably, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her fingers.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good,” She mumbles. “I’ll see you at school”

She’s getting out of the car fast now, like she can’t do it fast enough, and Stan wants to kick himself as he watches her walk quickly into her house.

She was only trying to help, he thinks, before hitting his head down on top of the wheel and letting out a groan of frustration.

He’ll just have to make it up to her tomorrow. ___

[ they talkin’ now, just block em out ]

(y/n) doesn’t see Stan the next day at school. Not in the halls, not even in the classes that she might have snuck around to peek into that she knew he had. It was almost embarrassing, but she was worried about him. With his dad still in town, and their awkward parting last night, she was starting to get uncomfortable.

She sat alone at lunch. She could’ve sat with Dina, since Stanley was a no-show. But she looked pretty busy with Brad and the rest of the football team and cheerleading squad. And sitting alone was better than that.

She’d been picking around her plate for fifteen minutes now, and there was only another fifteen left in the lunch period. A part of her wanted to ditch school, maybe swing by his place to see if he was home, but she didn’t want to come across as stalker-y or anything-

“Hey, sunshine,”

The girl almost jumped out of her seat, looking up to see the boy himself plopping down at the table across from her.

“Stanley-!”

“I brought you, uh, something,” He said, handing over a brown paper bag. “It’s lunch”

There’s a smile on her face as she looks at it. He’d doodled all over it, flowers and smiles and dorky little scribbles, around the bold lettering that read (y/n’s) Lunch.

“Why?” She asks while opening it up.

“Um, I feel uh.. I feel really bad about last night,” He said anxiously, his hands patting against the tabletop. “So.. I made you lunch”

(y/n) giggles, pulling out a small tupperware container with a pre-peeled orange inside, and then a snack cake, and then a sandwich.

“What’s on this?” She asked, brows furrowing when he blushes.

“There’s actually three sandwiches in there,” He tells her. “I didn’t know what you liked…”

She giggles as she looks over her lunch options, and shakes her head.

“Stan, you didn’t have to-”

“Yeah, I- I did,” He says, and (y/n) hands him one of the sandwiches. “I’m really sorry, (y/n), I was just upset with my dad and I wish I hadn’t taken that out on you, you were only trying to help”

“It’s okay,” (y/n) assures, giving him a soft smile while enjoying her lunch. “I understand. It’s okay,” It’s quiet for a moment, before she adds, “Your eye is already looking better today”

He returns a weak smile, before nodding his head a little bit.

“Yeah. Good thing too. I don’t want to look stupid at homecoming”

With the cheesy grin that starts to appear on her face, he already knows what she’s going to say.

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to look stupid-“ She starts to tease him, but he’s not having it.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” He says abruptly.

(y/n) shakes her head at him while she laughs, prying open the orange he’d brought for her. She splits it in half and hands part of it to him.

“So I was thinking of asking Mercedes…” Stan says slowly, eyes trained on the orange. He’s too nervous to look at (y/n). “To homecoming”

Mercedes? She thinks. The holier-than-thou boring girl on the cheerleading squad?

“She’s cute!” (y/n) says encouragingly, her lips tugging into a tight, and rather forced, smile.

“Yeah,” Stan mumbles, and shrugs his shoulders like he’s not so sure. “She’s nice, I mean, we’re partners in Bio”

Wow. What chemistry you have. It takes a lot of effort for (y/n) not to roll her eyes.

“You should ask her” She tells him.

But her voice is quiet, and she’s intent on peeling the white skin from the orange slices. Anything to keep from making eye contact with him right now.

“You don’t mind?”

Her eyes shoot up to him at the question, features falling for just a moment before she carefully crafts them into a happier expression.

“I just don’t want to make it weird,” Stan says quickly, because he catches the flicker of a frown on her lips. “You know… so I just wanted to let you know-“

“Not weird,” She rushes out, shaking her head as well. “I don’t mind at all. I told you that you deserve to go with someone you’ll have a good time with”

I don’t know how anyone could have a good time with Mercedes, though, she wants to say, but she keeps her lip zipped.

“Cool” Stanley says, and gives her a thumbs up.

There’s a brief second, maybe even half a second, where she wants to take it back. Unfortunately, just as she opens her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, Stan was getting up from the table, and wandering over to another.

No.

“Hey, Mercedes,”

Why do I have to listen to this.

“So I was wondering…”

(y/n) almost covers her hands over her ears. But she’s frozen in her seat, trapped watching the scene unfold in front of her. Stan was smiling, and sat down next to the girl as he spoke excitedly about homecoming, and that he’d like to take her.

(y/n) winced, and waited impatiently- maybe just as impatient as Stan- for Mercedes answer.

“Yeah, that sounds great!”

She looks so happy, and it just about tears (y/n’s) heart in two.

Stan looks even happier, and she feels like the biggest jerk on the planet.

And that’s saying something, since Brad Lewis is sitting just a few tables away from her.

She tries her best to block out the conversation that the new pair are having about plans. He’s picking her up at 7:30, they’ll take a few pictures before heading out, and then he’ll drop her back off after the dance, around 10:00.

Stanley rejoins (y/n) at their lunch table a few minutes later, and she wills herself to give him a smile.

“Sounds like that went well” She says softly, and he grins back at her.

“Yeah, it did”

“Good,” She replies, popping an orange slice in her mouth. “I’m glad”

They eat in silence for a little bit, and Stan starts to get the feeling that he’s upset her. Even though it doesn’t make sense, since she’d turned him down, and prompted him to go ask Mercedes. He doesn’t ask her about it, he’s smarter than that. But he does wonder if it’s true.

“So what are you going to do that night?” He asks.

“Hm?”

“Friday night, what are you going to do instead?”

“Oh, you know, sit around, plotting against the patriarchy” She jokes, but it’s half-assed, and the laugh she lets out fades weakly back into silence.

“Well, if you change your mind, I could come pick you up”

She smiles, and almost agrees, but just as quickly shuts her mouth and shakes her head politely.

“No, no it’s your night, you should enjoy it with your date”

He wants to remind her that they’re friends, and that means a five minute drive is nothing to him, that he’d be happy to bring her along. But the bell rings, and she’s quick to grab her bag and shoot off of her seat like a rocket.

“See you after school?” She asks, and Stan nods.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you in the parking lot”

She agrees, and bolts out of the cafeteria without another word.

Stan’s certain that he’s messed up, but he doesn’t understand how, or how to even fix it. ___

[ if you’re over thinking i’ll get high with you // if you’re ever sinking i’ll go down with you ]

They’d only just arrived at the homecoming dance, and already, Stan had gotten himself ditched.

He supposed he shouldn’t have lit a joint in the car. Apparently Mercedes had a thing against weed, and he hadn’t realized that anyone still gave a shit about it. He probably shouldn’t have joked about it either.

Her reprimanding him and letting him know he’ll die a crack addict was her way of saying she wasn’t going to be his date tonight. At least he assumed, because as soon as they walked into the school, she told him to leave her alone, and that she’d be spending the night with her friends.

So for the first twenty minutes of the dance, he found himself sitting on the bleachers. It would be easier if there was at least one other person there, another loner, another reject that hadn’t gotten a date in time. But no, he was the only one. The only loner.

He pulled his sunglasses off his head and put them on.

He contemplated leaving, save himself from further embarrassment. However he figured he’d be even more if he had to tell (y/n) that he ditched the dance early.

He supposed he could lie. He wasn’t all that bad of a liar. Still, (y/n) had a good bullshit detector.

Maybe he could leave now and visit her instead, see if she wants to do literally anything else. People keep sending him looks, some pitiful, some humored, but both were the same amount of hurtful.

Just as he decided he was going to make a break for it, he froze completely, something in his line of sight stopping and vanquishing all thoughts about leaving- all thoughts about anything really.

(y/n) (y/l/n) was standing there, at the gym entrance, eyes scanning the area- Stan assumed looking for him- with a curious sort of smile on her face.

She hadn’t looked his way yet, so he didn’t mind openly staring at her while she stayed hidden in the doorway. The dress and makeup she was wearing is what made her beautiful, but there was a different type of beauty to her that he hadn’t seen before. Something soft and princess-like.

The pale pink dress she wore was simple and silky, and fell just a little past her fingertips, although she was nervously grasping at the material, curling her fingers in and out.

Her hair fell naturally, if not a little curled at it’s ends, and it looked incredibly soft, even from a distance.

Finally, her eyes land on his, and she seems to pause for a minute. Perhaps to collect her thoughts, or deciding if this was still a good idea. He can almost see the gears in her head turning.

But a moment later she’s walking up to him, a shy smile on her lips as she tucks her hands behind her back to stop herself from fiddling with her skirt. She doesn’t want him to see how nervous she is, and she hasn’t realized that he’s been watching her for the better part of a solid minute, so he already knows.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asks, pushing his glasses back on top of his mess of curls once she’s standing in front of him.

“I… um…” She glances around the gym, taking in the balloons, the streamers, the horribly mainstream music playing. “I changed my mind”

She looks back at him, more bashful than he’s ever seen her before. In the last week that he’s gotten to know her, he’s noticed that she doesn’t get shy. She doesn’t blush, and she doesn’t fidget.

The (y/n) before him was a completely different girl.

“No shit,” He responds, a smirk on his face. “Why?”’

She looks down at her shoes- an old pair of white heels that she once bought at a second-hand store, Dina had told her she’d need them some day, and apparently she was right- and gave a limp shrug of her shoulders.

And then she reaches her hand out to him, waiting patiently for him to stand and take it.

“Come on,” She murmurs. “I told you that you deserve someone who will dance with you, and not sit on the bleachers”

He chuckles, but his heart is racing in his chest as he extends his hand, gently grasping onto hers as he stands from the bench. A bright smile flashes across her lips, as even in her heels she has to tilt her head back to look at him.

“And that’s you?” He asks.

Neither of them have moved, not an inch. They’re standing just a few inches apart, connected only by their hands. And their eyes, I suppose.

“Looks like it” She mumbles.

He gestures for her to lead the way, and she excitedly pulls him with her onto the dance floor. She knows people are looking at them, for many reasons, she’s sure. But she can’t bring herself to look away from Stan.

He take’s their joined hands and reaches upward, prompting her to spin around under his arm. She gives him a look, but he nods erratically, and she surrenders, giving him a short twirl.

“Oh come on, have some liveliness won’t you?” He mocks her pitiful attempt at dancing.

“I don’t dance-”

“Bullshit, come on, like this,” He says, lifting their hands again, and ducking down dramatically so he can spin around underneath them. It’s a quick twirl, and when he’s facing her again, his free hand does a little jazzy motion.

She laughs, because he’s adorably entertaining.

“Now you go” He said, waiting for her to give it another try.

She pouts for a second,but when she realizes he’s not going to move until she obliges, she throws their hands up enthusiastically and twirls around on her toes. The skirt of her dress fans out with the rapid movement, only making her look a thousand times more graceful as she spins. She gives him a delighted smile as she balances herself on both feet again.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks teasingly, and she only rolls her eyes back at him.

They continue the cute little dance for the rest of the song, sharing laughs and smiles, and forgetting where they even were for a few minutes.

The next song that plays is slower, not exactly a slow song, but not one that’s easy to dance to like they were before.

She doesn’t wait for him to take her hand this time. Instead, she reaches her arms up to wrap them around his neck, and takes a tentative step closer.

Stan hesitates a moment before placing his hands on her waist.

“So,” She speaks to clear the tension in the air between them. “What’d you do to make your date run away?”

He almost laughs at how certain she is that he’s at fault for Mercedes ditching him tonight.

“Might’ve smoked a little pot outside,” He admitted. “I guess she thinks I’m an addict now, or something, I dunno”

(y/n) giggles, which turns into full blown bubbling laughter. Her shoulders are shaking and she’s not swaying with him anymore, all the while Stan stares at her with complete unamusement.

“Come on, Stan, everyone knows she’s obsessed with being pure,” She tells him once her laughter has quietened enough that she can speak. “You smoked a blunt right in front of her-?”

“Yes!” He stresses the word, and she giggles again, shaking her head.

“You’re hilarious,” She says softly, and begins to sway back and forth with him again. “I can’t believe you”

As it gets quiet between them, she looks down at her shoes again. Partially because she doesn’t want to step on his feet as they move, but also because it’s hard to stare at him in silence when they’re so close.

“I asked her what her deepest darkest secret was,” He says suddenly, and she looks up again. “She didn’t have a good answer”

“What’d she say?”

“Okay so she didn’t answer at all. She actually said that it was a weird question” He confesses.

“It is a weird question,” (y/n) repeats, brows furrowed, and quickly follows it with, “But that’s the point”

Stan shrugs in agreement.

“She doesn’t get it” He says with a small smile.

“No, she doesn’t” (y/n) hums back, and then she’s looking at the floor again.

“Hey, um…” He starts to speak but he slows his words and licks his lips. “Thanks. For coming, I mean”

She nods her head, and self-consciously pushes her hair back behind her ear.

“Yeah,” She murmurs. “You know I- I just figured it’s um… it’s our last homecoming… so…” The longer she stammers over her words, the pinker her cheeks turned, but Stan found it endearing. “Why not?” She finishes almost under her breath.

She clears her throat, and forces her nerves to be under control.

“Besides, I had to see you wear this suit again,” She said, playfully tugging at the lapels on his jacket. “So cute” She adds in a mumble.

He laughs at the compliment while she reaches her hands behind his neck again. He can tell she’s fidgeting with her fingers, but again he decides not to comment on her obvious anxiety.

“You look beautiful,” He says, and she can’t help but duck her head down.

Her cheeks are starting to get hot, and there’s no way she’s going to let him see her blushing that hard.

“Really beautiful,” He continues. “I- I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress. No that it matters! It’s just nice- you look nice,”

She laughs softly at how he stumbles over his words, but he takes in a breath to put himself at ease so he won’t ramble as much.

“I think it stems from you being a nice person,” He says. “I mean- you’re beautiful, you are, but, uh, it’s your own self that amplifies that beauty, I think,”

Somehow (y/n) manages the courage to look up at him, her laughter fading as she watches him with a more serious expression. His words are so sincere and heartfelt that they make her feel paralyzed, and she listens to him go on intently.

His tongue darts our to wet his lips, because suddenly they feel very dry, and (y/n’s) staring at him almost expectantly.

“You’re not complicated,” His voice goes soft, and his eyes flicker in between hers as he speaks, absolutely sure of himself. “You’re confusing, you’re very confusing, but… not complicated”

Her own gaze travels his features, lingering on his lips, which she notes are a mere two inches away from hers.

“I-”

“You’re not,” He shakes his head before she can argue with him. “I get that you think you are, because you’ve got all this- this shit, trust me, I get it,” He lets out a short sigh before going on. “But you’re not complicated. Not to me,”

Her eyes are glossy, and if he looked close enough he would’ve seen that the corner of her smile is a bit wobbly.

“Ricky Berry has barely scratched the surface of why he should be so lucky to go out with you,”

Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but she’s at a complete loss of words. But there’s nothing to say, nothing proper anyways.

And then she’s smiling, wide, and so, so happy.

“What?” Stan asks obliviously.

She just shakes her head at him.

“You, idiot” She whispers shakily, before leaning up on the tips of her toes, and pressing her lips against his.

It’s a sweet kiss, gentle, as it was a new experience for the both of them anyways. Not to mention much anticipated, so now that it was actually happening, it was almost surreal.

One of her hands drifts from where they’d been latched behind his neck, to lay delicately against his cheek. His skin is soft, and warm against the palm of her hand.

When she starts to lean back to pull away, his hands let go of her waist so that his arms can completely encircle her body, and pull her right back into him. She smiles as his lips slant over hers passionately.

Her hands splayed over his cheeks, before she hooked her arms around his neck again, pulling him down with her when she stands back on her heels again.

When they pull apart this time, it’s slow, and her lips linger against his for a moment, before he stands back up to his full height.

They’re wearing the same nervous smiles, and her eyes dart from the floor to his own shyly.

Stan’s hold on her relaxes, and his arms release her, to place his hands on her hips again.

(y/n) lets out a short breath of a laugh, and the smile on her face is unmoving. She couldn’t wipe it off if she wanted to.

She could, however, reach up towards his lips and drag her thumb over them, effectively rubbing away the pink stain she’d left behind.

“You- uh, you had some lipstick on your mouth” She says with a giggle.

“Did it make my eyes pop?” He asked without hesitation, and she nodded her head as she laughed again.

“Yeah, sure” She answered.

She smiled at him brightly, before stepping closer, and leaning her head against his shoulder. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, but it didn’t matter. Because she’s never been more content than she is right now.

They continue their dance slowly, and in pleasant silence. Eventually, her eyes fall shut, and she’s just standing there, holding him, barely moving back and forth to the sweet love song playing through the speakers.

And when the next song that comes on is an upbeat one, neither of them move.

It’s not until the dance is over, and people are filing out of the school that they decide they’ve had enough. As they walk out to the parking lot, she slips her hand into his, intertwining their fingers gently.

He thinks that her hand fits perfectly into his, in a way that’s almost romantic.

“Do you think I could get a ride home?” She asks, looking over to him. “I kinda walked here”

“You walked all the way here?” He asks, and she nods. “In those?” He questions her again, gesturing to her ridiculous heels for walking so far in.

“Yes,” She giggles. “How else was I supposed to get here?”

“I told you to call if you wanted a ride!” Stanley shouts, not angrily, just exasperated that she’d do something so foolish when he’d offered her help. (y/n) laughs at him, and squeezes his hand softly.

“Well at that point I just wanted to get here as quickly as I could,” She murmurs. “I didn’t care if I had to walk that far”

He smiled down at her, and nodded his head.

“Yeah, of course I’ll give you a ride home,” He said as they reached his car. “But, we’re listening to Bloodwitch”

She shrugs, as though to say fine. Not that she really minds, she’s kinda starting to like the band anyways.

The drive to their neighborhood is short, but it’s nice. Stan sings the whole way, and (y/n) doesn’t know the words but she enjoys watching his little performance.

When he pulled up outside of her house, she hesitated for a minute.

“Look, Stan I just… I just wanted to… um…”

“Thank me for the magical night?” Stan asks with a goofy grin.

She lets out a short laugh, a shy one, and nods her head.

“I guess, yeah. I was actually gonna say that I was… um… sorry,” She mumbles softly.

Stan’s brows furrows, and he wonders what the hell she has to apologize for.

“For not saying yes in the first place,” She continues. “I should have. I- I really wanted to go with you, I did,” She adds. “I was just… um… I didn’t want to let you down, you know? I- I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you realized-”

“Realized what?” He asks, scoffing a bit as he shakes his head. “(y/n), come on, you do know there’s nothing you could say or do that would ever disappoint me, right?”

She shrugs sheepishly, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” He told her, turning in his seat to be facing her properly. “It’s okay”

She gives him a small smile, and shrugs again.

“I… I really like you, Stan,” She whispers, eyes flickering in between his. “And I’m just glad that you didn’t leave before I could get there”

He grins, and despite the blush that’s making his cheeks turn pink, he gets a little bit cocky.

“You like me?” He asks, and now she’s blushing too, as she nods her head in the smallest movement.

“Yeah, I do,” She says in a murmur. “So… are you gonna do something about it?” She teases, leaning in closer to him, over the center console of his car.

He leans in as well, but just as she’s about to close her eyes, he stops, and she waits for him to do something, to make a move, but he doesn’t. She crinkles her brow, eyes flickering almost madly over his features.

“What are you doing?” She asked softly.

He raised a hand to her face, fingers skimming over her cheek. There was a sweet smile on his face as his eyes wandered over her features.

“I just wanted to take a look at you, is that such a crime?” He asks. The comment makes her cheek flush pinker than what’s left of the lipstick on her lips.

“It is when I want you to kiss me, Barber”

She’s teasing him, but she couldn’t help but whisper, her nerves getting the best of her.

He grins, however, hand smoothing over her cheek as he draws her in, before carefully planting his lips on hers.

She melts into the kiss so completely that she leans fully over the center console of the car, her arms wrapping around Stanley’s neck so that she could keep herself balanced, and not fully collapse.

Their soft kiss escalates quickly, as she deepens it, parting her lips the smallest amount, giving him access to trace his tongue over her bottom lip.

She parted her lips further so he could continue, and her fingers dove into his hair, coiling his curls around each finger. She wanted to smile, and it was hard to hold it back, but she managed somehow.

She only released his curls to pull the sunglasses off of his head. In the meantime his hands traveled from her face, down her arms, before landing on her hips, and gripping her hips.

(y/n) shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to sit on her knees, and she moved forwards a bit, prompting him to sit back in his seat, so that she could crawl over the center console, and sit down on his lap.

However, just as Stanley was leaning back, and (y/n) was maneuvering herself over towards him while trying not to let her dress ride up- too much- there was a sudden and rapid knock on the car’s window.

Confused, the pair pulled away from one another. They shared a puzzled look, before Stan caught sight of who had knocked on the passenger window. His lost expresion quickly morphed into one of fear, and in a shaky fashion, he pointed behind her.

(And when she turned he tugged the hem of her dress down)

“Mom!?” She shrieked, leaping away from Stanley and smoothing out her hair and skirt, hastily trying to make herself more presentable.

Not that it really mattered, seeing as they’d already been caught red-handed.

The girl’s mother didn’t look angry, but she certainly wasn’t amused.

(y/n) was quick to roll down the window, already racking her brain for any sort of excuse or distraction she could use, but her mind was blank, as she was only worried about the trouble she was about to be in.

“Wh-when did you get home?” She asked, forcing a smile towards her mother.

“About thirty minutes ago,” The woman answered.

She leaned over a bit to see into the car better, eyes landing on Stanley, who gave a nervous smile and wave.

“Nice to see you, Stanley,” Mrs (y/l/n) spoke. “Thank you for dropping (y/n) off”

“Y-yeah, no problem,” He answered awkwardly. “I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Despite her own anxiety about this whole ordeal, she grinned at him and nodded.

“Yeah,” She agreed. “Come pick me up in the morning?”

“Will do”

(y/n) gets out of the car, following her mom up to their front door, and talking animatedly- he can only assume it’s about him, which makes his heart do a little backflip.

“Oh, wait I forgot my shoes!”

(y/n) turned to head back to the car before Stan could drive down the street to his own house.

He gives her a funny look as she leans in through the open window.

“I live like- right next door,” He chuckles. “I could’ve brought them over at any point-”

“I know,” She says playfully, and leans in further to give him a quick kiss. “I just wanted to say goodnight”

The smile on her face is bright and beautiful- and it reminds him that someday he has to paint her.

“You’re adorable” He says.

“Goodnight” She whispers back, before grabbing her heels from the floor, and actually going inside.

Her mom had been waiting at the front door and saw the whole interaction, but she didn’t care this time. Her happiness outweighed the awkwardness.

They both went home and to bed with eager smiles on their faces, knowing this next chapter together was going to be an exciting one. Of course, everything was exciting with Stanley Barber, and she wouldn’t have to worry about being left bored and alone in her room again.

[ all i need my baby and a cigarette ]

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#I am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt fanfiction #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber fanfiction #stanley barber scenario #wyatt oleff

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