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multi-fandomfuckboy · 4 months

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Stranger Than Fiction

Part 26: Attitude

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 26, Part 27 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Wow, twice in one week. Wild. Hope you guys like it!! Let me know what you think! Word Count: 3,090 Warnings: none

You relish the feeling of the asphalt under your shoes. Lengthening your stride, feeling the pull of your muscles, you set a steady pace. You barely notice the cold after a mile. In a way it’s almost comforting, the frozen air pressing around you biting at your exposed skin, almost like a kiss. The night is dark and peaceful, most people are already asleep at this hour. It swallows you whole, hiding all the parts of yourself you’ve been trying to ignore.

You know you should hate it. After seeing all the evil things that can hide in the dark, you should be terrified. But you’re not. A familiar shiver traces down your spine, like the darkness around you recognizes the darkness in you. A part of it will always live inside you, etched into your very skin, down to the bone. You can feel it with you now. The tingling sensation prickling around your scars, twisting down your back, it’s always there, but in the cold night air its caress feels like an old friend.

You fall into it, the feeling allowing you to drift in and out of thought. The inky blackness pouring into you, filling the space in your mind where confusing and complicated thoughts once dwelled. Thoughts about Billy, about Steve, and Nancy, Jonathan, your mom, Hopper… all those loud thoughts smothered by the blanket of darkness. It’s peaceful here, in this place of no feeling. It would be easy to stay… It always was.

You don’t know how long you walk, instinctively making your way down the street. Your stride is suddenly interrupted when part of your shoe becomes detached, flopping against your heel as you shuffle to a halt. Shaking yourself out of whatever fog you had fallen into, you lean down to inspect your sneaker. You can see in the dark that the back part of the sole on your right shoe has finally given up. The piece of rubber dangles loosely from the rest of the shoe. Prodding the damage gently you’re hardly surprised when another inch peels away from the main shoe.

“Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, trying to press the rubber back into place hoping that maybe it will magically adhere long enough for you to make it home. A light flashes from behind you on the road, the sound of an engine disrupting the silence of the night. In the headlights you are able to see just how distressed your shoe is, illuminating the irreparable damage.

Straightening up, you turn slightly to assess the oncoming car. Its headlights blind you for a moment, you lift your hand to shield your eyes as the car comes closer. You can tell it’s slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart beats a little faster, you try to tell yourself it’s probably nothing, just a concerned Hawkins resident out for a drive… in the middle of the night. You take a step back, off the road, your muscles tensing in preparation, keeping your arm loose at your side, knowing that it will take you 2 seconds to get the knife from your ankle.

The car comes to a stop beside you, the drivers’ window already lowered. You can’t see into the car, your eyes struggling to readjust.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you almost froze to death?” The driver says. Of course. As your eyes focus you can make out Billy’s sharp features, his white teeth flashing as he grins up at you. You can’t stop the upward tilt of your own lips, your stomach twisting at the familiarity of the situation.

“What can I say? My tutor says I’m a slow learner.” You say with a shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like a smart guy.” He replies with a smirk. Before you can reply he cuts you off. “If you keep standing there giving me attitude your fingers are going to freeze. Get in the car before I have to drag your ass to the hospital.” You open your mouth to refuse but as you shift your feet you feel the sole of your shoe slide, reminding you of your current predicament. Another mile and you’ll be hopping on one foot.

“Fine.” You agree. If it were another day you would laugh at the surprised look on Billy’s face. In all the times he’s offered to give you a ride, this is one of the first times you’ve actually accepted. “But only because I think my foot would actually get frostbite if I don’t, and I don’t feel like getting a lecture from my mom if I get taken to the hospital.” You explain, walking around the car, limping with the awkward flop of your sole with each step.

Billy reaches over the seat to unlock your door before you get to it, rolling up his window as you climb in. The heat from inside the car washes over you, drawing your attention to how cold your limbs had grown. You hadn’t even noticed. Sliding into the passenger seat, you close your door and buckle your seatbelt.

“Why are you limping?” Billy asks, his eyes searching over you in the dim light of the car before reaching above him to flick on the interior lights. He looks you over from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. You prop your foot up on your knee, allowing the light to shine down on your busted sneaker.

“Looks like they just finally gave up.” You comment, flicking the dangling piece of rubber. Billy’s expression relaxes slightly, seeing that it’s just your shoe falling apart, not you.

“What are you doing walking out here anyway?” He asks, flicking off the light. “I thought you left with Harrington.” He says, turning away from you to face the road, putting the car into gear. You can see his shoulders tense, despite how calm his voice sounds, the muscle in his jaw fluttering.

“I just drove him home.” You tell him, watching his expression carefully from the corner of your eye as you lean forward pretending to look at your shoe. You wonder why he would be so curious. You know he had seen you leave with Steve so why was he… Suddenly something occurs to you.

“What are You doing here?” You ask pointedly. You hear his hands tightening around the wheel, his gaze locked forward, again that muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I was just in the area.” He says, attempting to keep his tone casual. You know he’s lying. It’s getting too easy to read him these days.

“I saw you at Tinas’.” You tell him. His eyes flicker to you briefly before returning to the road.

“I saw you too.” He says, his voice suddenly hard. Your stomach drops uncomfortably and you look back to your foot. You aren’t sure why you feel like you’ve done something wrong. You grit your teeth together in irritation. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You were just hanging out with Steve, Billy was the one with some girl hanging all over him.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at the party. You looked pretty… occupied.” You try to keep your voice indifferent but a slight bitterness tinges the edges despite your efforts. You hate the jealous feelings swirling in your gut. You have no claim to Billy. The two of you hardly tolerate each other.

Still, you find it hard to ignore the fact that there is something volatile between you, something wild, almost dangerous. You’ve been trying to stamp out the ember between the two of you since you met, somehow it keeps flickering back to life fanning itself into a flame the closer the two of you get.

“Yea, if I was desperate and bored enough I might have considered it.” Billy says, immediately catching what you're alluding to. Who you’re alluding to. “Girls like that are only fun for a minute, they tend to get a bit clingy if you give them a taste.” He goes on, shooting you a devilish smirk, explaining it to you like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Your face burns at the implication of his words.

“oh.” Is all you can manage, toying with your shoelace hoping the dim lighting hides your undoubtedly flushed cheeks. Billy chuckles lightly, seemingly amused by your lack of response. You should be used to this, he’s always saying things to fluster you, he must get a kick out of it or something. He clears his throat after a beat, keeping his eyes ahead.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at Harringtons’, sure he wouldn’t have minded.” His tone sounds shockingly similar to how yours had, going for casual but a bitter undertone slipping through. The meaning behind his words is not lost on you.

“We’re friends.” You say, reflexively defensive. Billy scoffs.

“Right.” He says, shaking his head. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you. You cut your eyes to him in a narrowed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, letting your irritation bleed through. Billy seems unaffected, his shoulders shaking slightly with a humorless laugh.

“Come on, Loca. I know you’re crazy but I didn’t know you were blind too.” He says, his smirk taking on the wolfish aspect you associate with his cruelty. “He hangs around you like a love-sick puppy! He can’t go two seconds without touching you. You’re really going to try and tell me you’re ‘just friends’?” He asks, lifting a brow in disbelief. Your face flushes with anger replacing any sort of embarrassment you would feel at Billy’s description of yours and Steves’ relationship.

“Steve is going through a lot right now.” You respond tensely, meeting his eyes evenly. He turns his eyes back to the road, another dry laugh escaping him, causing you to grit your teeth harder.

“Oh right! I forgot who I was talking to. The saint of Hawkins High, trying to save poor Stevie boy from his broken heart.” Your anger flares in your chest, pulsing against your ribs. Billy didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t know Steve, he didn’t know what the two of you had been through together. How much death and darkness you had helped each other through. You would be DEAD without Steve Harrington.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hiss, struggling to keep your hands from shaking in anger, curling them into fists in your lap. Billy doesn’t miss this, he keeps pushing.

“Trust me, the broken heart routine only lasts until he gets what he wants form you loca.” He tells you harshly. You scoff at that.

“Oh and you’re an expert, right? Had a lot of practice?” You spit back. You think you see hurt flash across his face but only for a moment and he’s back to himself.

“I may not be an expert but I’ve definitely been around the block a few times.” He tells you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as they pull back from his teeth in a knowing grin. “Which is more than you can say if your reaction this afternoon is anything to go off of.” You gap at him, your anger coming to a screeching halt as you try to think of a response.

“I- That- That’s none of your business.” You blurt out. Billy laughs again.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed loca, we all have to start somewhere.” He coos, giving you a look of fake sympathy. “I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long with how Harrington seems to be pawing at you.” You know he’s trying to hurt you. You’re not sure why, but he couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I told you it’s not like that.” You insist, pressing yourself further into your seat, turning your body away from him to face the window. You watch the dark shapes blur past, melting together.

“What’s it like then?” He asks. You know he doesn’t expect a response. Anyone else would have nothing to say to that. But there is a small part of you that needs him to understand. You’re not sure why, but you tell him the truth. Or at least part of it.

“Steve was there when I was attacked last year.” You say calmly. It’s like all the air is sucked out of the car. Billy says nothing. You can feel his eyes on the back of your shoulder, where he knows the top of your scars starts. He’s seen them, he knows how the skin is puckered, still angry and raised along the flesh of your back, you know he’s picturing them. “He’s the one who drove me to the hospital, thinking I was dead. He held my hand when I was in a coma, visited me as much as he could when I woke up, brought me homework, kept me company even when I thought I didn’t want it.” You speak without emotion. These are all facts. It’s who Steve was even before he became one of your closest friends. “He’s been a good friend to me. An amazing friend.” You let yourself smile gently at the thought. “I intend to be the same for him.”

The car gently comes to a stop in front of your house. You turn back to Billy. He’s not smiling now, any trace of the cocky Billy that was teasing you moments ago is gone. Instead he keeps his eyes straight ahead, his knuckle white where they grip the wheel. He is eerily still, his tense shoulders barely rising with each breath. There is a beat of silence. It feels like you’re balancing on a tightrope, one wrong move and Billy will snap.

“Thanks for the ride.” You nearly whisper, unbuckling your seatbelt. You reach to open your door, Billys’ hand on your arm stops you. You turn back to meet his gaze in the dim light of the car, he looks almost angry, his eyes intense as he focuses on your face. You steel your nerves, preparing for whatever hurtful comment he has ready.

“I didn’t know.” He says softly. The contrast between the hard edges of his expression and the gentleness of his tone is extreme. You realize then that the anger in him is for himself. You soften, knowing this is the closest to an apology Billy can give you.

“It’s okay. You know now.” You tell him. His expression only tightens, his hand gentle on your arm tenses slightly. Leaning back you take his hand from your arm, holding it in your lap as you turn towards him fully. “It’s okay Billy. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” You explain, hoping he can see the honesty in your eyes. He searches your face, his expression loosening a bit.

“Why did you tell me?” He asks, keeping his voice low. You hesitate.

Why did you tell him? Your thumb grazes over the knuckles of his hand, feeling the raised bumps of the scars there. Sometimes you forget that he has scars too, each one with their own story.

“Because I wanted you to know.” Is the only explanation you can offer. You’ve felt a connection to Billy from the moment he almost hit you with his car. Somewhere along the way between nearly dying again and living with the mess your life has become, you’ve found yourself drawn closer and closer to this angry boy. You want to tell him the truth, to offer him a part of you so few have access to. There is no explanation for it but you want to know Billy and you want him to know you too.

It must be enough for him because after searching your face a moment longer, his shoulders relax slightly. You fight the urge to lean closer and use your fingers to smooth out the tension in his jaw.

You know what the stubble would feel like, you felt it against your neck earlier today. Your stomach swirls at the memory. You worry that he can see the thoughts dancing through your mind with how his eyes search yours. His hand gently takes one of yours, his thumb lightly swiping over your palm sending a shiver up your arm.

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 12.” Billy tells you. It’s not so much an invitation as a demand. Very Billy.

“And if I have plans?” You ask, living your brow in challenge. Billys’ small smirk sends warmth flooding through you.

“Cancel them.” He tells you simply. Before you can reply, Billy cuts you off by bringing your hand to his lips. His breath ghosts over your knuckles as he presses a gentle kiss to the skin. Your hand reflexively tightens in his, the words catching in your throat. Goosebumps explode across your skin and you’re sure your face is so red it’s probably glowing in the dark.

Billy’s light chuckle only adds to the heat gathering low in your stomach.

“So that’s how I get rid of the attitude.” Billy muses, watching you closely. He moves to bring your hand to his lips again, turning it slightly to press another kiss to the inside of your wrist. You can barely hear his words over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. “I would have put my mouth on you a lot sooner if I had known that.” He whispers the words against the sensitive skin of your wrist. Just when you think your heart is going to pound out of your chest, Billys’ teeth gently nip at your arm causing you to let out a small gasp. The sudden noise from you seems to break the spell he must have put on you.

You rip your arm out of his grasp, whipping around in your seat to fumble at the door knob. You nearly fall out of the car when you finally fling the door open, the cold December air sobering you up as you scramble from the vehicle. Billy laughs from the driver’s seat, causing you to glare back at him.

Your only response is to slam the passenger door and turn, striding up your driveway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, loca! 12 o’clock!” Billy yells from the window before he revs his engine so loudly you’re sure you will be getting a call from your neighbors. You roll your eyes, not bothering to watch as his taillights disappear into the night.

AN: Let me know what you guys think!

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lemoneyshipz · 3 months

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mood board for the stranger than fiction au fic i wanna write but don’t know where to start 😭😭

(will elaborate later)

#dream of the endless #the sandman #dreamling #morpheus #hob gadling #edit #stranger than fiction #au #au fic #lemoneyshipz

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flightofthefaeriedragon · 13 days

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Because it's a book about a man who doesn't know he's about to die and then dies. But if the man does know he's going to die and dies anyway, dies willingly, knowing he could stop it, then... I mean, isn't that the type of man you want to keep alive?

-- Stranger Than Fiction

#I'M JUST SAYING #stranger than fiction #cr spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #favorite movies #flights of the faerie dragon

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mediademon · 2 months

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FILMS FROM MY CHILDHOOD:

Stranger than Fiction (2006) dir. Marc Forster

#stranger than fiction #stranger than fiction 2006 #strangerthanfictionedit #will ferrell #maggie gyllenhaal #*mygifs #filmgifs #filmedit #moviegifs #movieedit #film diary #dailyflicks #fyeahmovies #ffmc #HE BOUGHT HER FLOURS!!!

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drafthorsemath · 8 days

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In the movie Stranger Than Fiction, a guy finds out he's the main character in a book being written. The author (played by Emma Thompson) doesn't know him, but turns out her plan is for him to die in the end and this guy finds out about it. Whatever she writes is what will happen to him. This guy realizes that he will die doing something good and so is okay with dying. So the author decides to not kill him in the end and just maim him a lot in the story. He wakes up in the hospital. Another character played by Dustin Hoffman, a lit professor if I remember correctly, tells her the story isn't quite as impactful that way, but this author points out that this man was willing to die helping people and isn't that someone you'd want to keep around?

Something something my feelings any time someone says that if Tech lives it decreases the impact of his sacrifice. The fact that he was willing to make it is the meaningful part.

#tbb #tech #tech lives #stranger than fiction #the bad batch

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haveyouseenthismovie-poll · 7 months

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#movies #polls #stranger than fiction #2000s movies #marc forster #will ferrell #maggie gyllenhaal #requested #have you seen this movie poll

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hometoursandotherstuff · 27 days

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She Wed A Victorian Ghost. Now, She's Divorcing Him Because Of His Alleged Affair With Marilyn Monroe

And, you thought your relationship was complicated.

https://thoughtnova.com/she-wed-a-victorian-ghost-now-shes-divorcing-him-because-of-his-alleged-affair-with-marilyn-monroe?

#ghosts #stranger than fiction #other stuff

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chrollohearttags · 7 months

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BEYOND FACT OR FICTION: the boy who wanted to see the ocean • armin artlert

In this world, there are two types of people born into it. Those that live and those that experience it. The average and the exceptional..to say that Armin Artlert was on the latter of both sides would be an understatement. From the day of his birth to the early years of his childhood, it was blatantly obvious that he was not like the others around him. Considered a frail and sickly child, despite growing up in more modern times with access to the best healthcare, Armin found himself confined to his room most days. Fortunately, he did come from a rather affluent background so he had all sorts of materials and resources at his disposal to keep him occupied. He didn’t feel he was ever missing out on much because the rare times that he was able to even attend school, he was bullied by his peers. So he felt much more comfortable and safer in the essence of his own company. Especially since he had become rather infatuated with one topic in particular: the ocean. Next to the hospital where he often found himself a resident was a beach with the most crystalline of waters flowing over bright, beige sands. Palm trees swaying in the distance and resembling that of a screensaver, it was so perfect. It was a beautiful scene and one he had come to admire. To say the least! Some would even say that Armin was enamored..obsessed even. So much so, he dedicated his entire life to researching and learning all he could about aquatic life.

he was utterly fascinated with all things marine life and the functions of the waters. Granted, as humans, we’ve barely scraped the surface with only a 5% discovery rate of our vast waterways. The open seas were a mystery but being the inquisitive, determined mind he was, Armin wanted to unearth all of it. He would stop at nothing until he achieved his answers. Once he graduated from high school, college was next in the docket and as everyone suspected, the overachiever sought out his degrees in marine biology..he wanted nothing more than to solve the mysteries of our world’s waterfront. He took several courses in aquatic science, marine studies and by the time his academic journey came to an end, Armin Artlert had taken on the title of doctor by earning his PhD. Needless to say, he was super successful and living his dreams.

But around late 2017, things began to shift for the young scholar..friends, family and colleagues alike began to notice a change in him. As if his devotion to work wasn’t already enough, he became completely enamored with the topic of finding the ocean’s origin point!..discovering where they originated from and was there a precise point. Absolutely absurd but nothing was out of reach for Mr. Artlert. There wasn’t a thing going to stand in the way of his research. Not the government, the academic board or even money..at all costs, he had to make it happen. He was becoming erratic, spouting ramblings and nonsense about things beyond anyone’s comprehension. Staying up all hours of the night, plastered to his computer screen and reading texts from long ago.

“Please, just front me the ten grand and I’ll pay it back with interest, you know I’m good for it.”

“Just five thousand until the end of the month and I’ll get it back, I swear. Just trust me, please..”

Empty promises never fulfilled by either end because the people around felt that this was all going too far. He was doing good work and had written many theses on his findings. He had a high rise condo, nice car and even a beautiful lady..so why wasn’t it enough? Why did he have to surpass mankind and exceed his limitations? Curiosity was one thing but toying with mother nature was another level of insanity. So as you could imagine, on the night of April 11, 2017, when his girlfriend and fellow researcher, (y/n) (l/n), came home from work to find their condo completely empty. And not just silent..COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY BARE! Stripped of all furniture, decorations and most importantly, any trace of Armin! You were completely taken aback but the worst of this mystery was yet to come. Not wanting to alert anyone, you’d call around and ask if anyone had seen or heard from him, thinking that something could have happened to him. Not only that, if someone had come and cleared this apartment out in the span of a 12 hour duration, taking him along with them, who knew what..or who else they’d come after? Frightened, you rounded up all of your mutual friends and decided to assemble a search party. Because he was now 25 and very much a legal adult with the reserved right to go missing at any time, the police gave you all the typical runaround about having to wait twenty four hours to file a police report. Even so, time was of the essence and 24 hours was something you didn’t have to waste. So once everyone came over to the condo, you’d put your heads and all of the information together to hopefully reach a consensus about where he could have gone..you’d send a group out to scour the local coffee shops and libraries he frequented, even some of his favorite stores. Hoping to find a trace of him somewhere. His ‘Find my iPhone’ feature was disabled and the phone was going straight to voicemail.

“When’s the last time you saw him, (Y/N)?” his best friend and the person who knew him best, would question. If anyone had an inkling of the mental state he was in, it was most certainly the person who had known him since they were born. “This morning, in the cafeteria at the research center..he was grabbing breakfast and heading back up to his office. We were supposed to have lunch but I had few conference calls and studies so I couldn’t make it.”

You didn’t want to leave any stone unturned..and the first clue may have appeared a lot closer than anyone thought. Just down the hallway from the master bedroom was a small guest room where Armin conducted a lot of experiments. Sometimes late into the night and early mornings..and under absolutely no circumstances, was anyone allowed in. Not even you. He’d ensure so by installing a state of the art lock that was fingerprint and rigged with a series of intricate puzzles and questions that only he knew the answer. It was brilliant. A regular padlock wouldn’t suffice because what lay behind the door was something not only baffling but downright terrifying….

You worked for hours to hack the system and get it unlocked but to no avail. You even resorted to brute force by kicking and trying to hack it open with tools but no dice.

“Damn you, Armin. This is so like you…making everything difficult and mysterious. Where the hell did you go?”

It was around one in the morning and you were exhausted, from both work, the strenuous search efforts and just the long day in general. But a bit of good news would peer through this bleak situation..it was just as you were sitting on the floor, knees to your chest and your face buried in your hands, you’d hear a loud cackle.

“Ha! Finally..we got it.”

Just then, you’d hear a faint beeping noise and watch the padlock omit a green light. Signaling that it had been hacked successfully. Courtesy of one of your other scholar colleagues who worked in IT. For a mystery like this, you guys were going to need all of the man and brain power you could get. Upon unlocking it, you’d be the first to enter and once you pushed the door open, nothing could prepare you for what was inside…

“Oh my God!” a loud shriek left your mouth, only to be cupped by your hands seconds later. You were bewildered by the sight in front of you, as was everyone else…every wall, every inch of the space was littered with writing! Equations, secret codes and countless words were everywhere. Not only that, it was dimly lit with only select areas being illuminated..but perhaps the most frightening part were the makeshift pillars. Carved from marble and constructed six feet high, it was insanely creepy. How had he managed to do this? And by himself nonetheless because no one here had a clue what Armin was up to. What you thought would lead you all closer to answers had only left you even more confused. Not even the most brilliant of minds could decipher the messages or figure out what he was into. When it came to his personal research, he was very tight lipped about it.

days, weeks and eventually months went by without an answer or trace of Armin. Not a single clue, lead or anything brought you any closer to figuring out this mystery. Once the police finally got involved, they conducted routine searches, put out BOLO’s for his Mercedes and even brought the case to the news. But all of it was a waste.

it was all a waste until the day of October 11, 2017. Six months EXACTLY to the day he first went missing. You were at work, trying to power through the day as you had been doing. You were in the middle of typing up some findings from your earlier experiment when your phone rang and saw that it was the police department. Your heart and stomach sank immediately, expecting the worst. Had they found Armin? Was he okay? What was going on?! But the only instruction you received was to come down to the hospital because they needed to speak with you. Halting all else, you snatched up your car keys and coat, making a beeline for your vehicle in the parking garage. You didn’t hang up the entire time, even as you got buckled in. Because there was something else they told you, that had you racing toward him.

“He’s alive. He desperately needs medical attention but he’s alive, miss (L/N).”

so you placed it in reverse and peeled out there like a bat from hell! You refused to hang up until you laid eyes on him and knew for certain this wasn’t a prank. Fortunately, the hospital was only ten minutes away and in no time, you were pulling into the parking lot, rushing inside to see him. You’d reach the receptionist and ask if someone by the name of Armin Artlert had been brought in and at first, she was a bit hesitant, despite you showing ID, because after all, his case had gained national media attention so people were gathering to be in the know of if he was okay or not. But suddenly, a detective in a button down would come and scoop you up, giving a quick escort to the back area where he was being treated. Once you two arrived, the detective would ask you one simple question:

“Are you certain you’re ready to see him? He looks a bit different…”

but you didn’t care! You’d love him regardless and would be happy no matter the outcome. As long as he lived.

“Armie..oh my gosh..” whispering in a shrill cry because he looked really bruised and battered. His pale arms littered with red and purple bruises, head wrapped in bandages, arms stuck with needles and IV’s and an oxygen mask on his face. He was so fragile; dropping a staggering thirty pounds since his disappearance. He was severely dehydrated, flush and so weak. You couldn’t believe the condition he was in. You were even more surprised to find that he had wandered up to the police station, disoriented and talking out of character with nothing more than a thin loin cloth type thing on. He remembered his name but didn’t know what day it was, why he disappeared or where he had come from. It was as if whoever was keeping him, had put him in pretty bad shape. When asked about what happened whilst he was gone, he froze up and even began crying…that led all of you to believe that some very powerful people had gotten ahold of him. But what followed would send you into utter shock. The detective would pull you aside and ask to speak privately. It was there that he’d inform you that they suspected that Armin had not only gone missing of his own volition but that he staged the disappearance as an attempt to either evade the government for his findings or to garner more money for his research. People tended to shell out hundreds, even thousands when someone went missing so he figured he could swipe some of the funds from the GoFundMe to fuel his projects. It didn’t matter though, because your baby was back home and that was all that mattered.

to this day, no one knows what occurred on that night and what prompted Armin’s strange disappearance. Some still speculate that it was all a ruse and a ploy to get money. Others think that his research went entirely too far and landed him in hot water with the wrong people. But what do you think?

is there truth to this tale of the seas or a watered down lie?

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everyfandomeverywhereallatonce · 11 months

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#stranger than fiction #uptown girls #la la land #mrs. doubtfire #robin hood: men in tights #little shop of horrors #kingsman: the secret service #v for vendetta #everything everywhere all at once

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reality-detective · 2 months

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Immortality of the Soul is spooky shit 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #immortality #human immortality #stranger than fiction #stranger things #spooky stuff

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multi-fandomfuckboy · 4 months

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Stranger Than Fiction

Part 25: Merry Christmas

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 25, Part 26 (Coming Soon)...

AN: I'm alive. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I hope you guys like it! Word Count: 4,362 Warnings: alcohol, vomit

It takes you more than 5 minutes to collect yourself enough to leave the bathroom. When you do finally leave, it feels like you're still in a fog of dream, nothing really feels real. It isn't until you’re seated in the library with Nancy, reading the same line in your textbook for the 10th time, that her question finally snaps you out of it.

“What is that?” She asks, her eyes narrowed on the skin peaking out around the collar of your neck. She extends a hand, moving to pull the collar of your shirt away from your neck.

“What?” you ask, instinctively pulling away, your hand moving to cover the sensitive bit of skin you know Billy had in his mouth earlier. Nancy’s eyes stay on you, her investigative brain working through something.

“Did you bump into something or…” Her eyes widen in realization. “Oh my god is that a-” Your eyes bulge in panic.

“Hush! Lower your voice!” you hiss, pressing your palm harder to your neck as if that will make the blemish disappear. You glance around the library that is mostly empty except for one or two students minding their own business.

“Is that really a…” Nancy glances around as well, leaning in closely and mouthing the word. “Hickey?” You don’t know what to say. Is it? You didn’t think to look at yourself in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. It’s not like you’ve ever been in this situation before. You don’t think they make a handbook for this type of thing that would give you tips like ‘always check for hickeys’. Nancy must take your silence as confirmation, her surprised expression shifting into a wide grin.

“Oh my god! You have to tell me everything! I didn’t even know you were talking to anyone!” She gushes, closing the book in front of her and leaning in. You wish you could just disappear. “Who is it? It must have happened recently. Is that why your face was all red when you got here?” Your heart skips a beat, why did she have to be so observant?

“I- uh-” you stammer, struggling to think of anything to say that isn’t the truth. You can’t tell her what happened, or who it happened with. “I can’t say.” you blurt out, lowering your eyes from her bright smile.

“Come on!” she pleads. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, I’m just surprised you are actually talking to someone.” She explains. You feel a stab of indignation at that. Why is it so surprising? Are you so undesirable that it seems impossible someone would want to press you against a bathroom stall and-

“It’s really nothing Nance, just drop it.” You bite back, some of your frustration leaking into your voice. You keep your eyes on your textbook, buttoning your shirt up to ensure the skin is covered. She seems to take the hint, sighing but leaning back in her chair.

“Okay, you don’t have to tell me.” You’re relieved that she’s stopped pushing. “But at least let me cover it up for you. Your mom will have a cow if she sees that on your neck.” She tells you, reaching into her purse to pull out her compact.

You let her cover the mark. When she’s done she offers you her mirror to admire her handiwork. You can barely see the purple mark under the light sheen of makeup, to anyone else it would just look like a shadow.

“Thank you Nancy.” You tell her genuinely, handing back the mirror. You try to ignore the pang of guilt you feel having to keep things from her. But it really is for the best.

“It’s no problem.” She smiles, packing away her things. “I got a lot of practice when I was with St-” She catches herself, her smile falters and she keeps her head down. You clear your throat, not wanting her to dwell on the memory.

“Are you going to Tina’s tonight?” you ask, moving to pack up your own things. Her eyes dart to you, once again surprised.

“Yea. Are YOU going to Tina’s tonight?” she asks, her brows drawing together. You shrug, trying to look nonchalant.

“I was thinking about it.” you tell her, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Alright, who are you and what have you done with my friend?” she asks, grabbing you by the shoulder and giving you a playful shake. You can’t help but chuckle. “I thought I was going to have to kidnap you to get you to go. I basically had to bribe Jonathan to get him to agree.” she explains, linking her arm with yours as you both head towards the exit. “Do you need a ride? I can get Jonathan to-”

“No, I have a ride.” you tell her, purposely leaving out the fact that it’s Steve. You don't want to make things more awkward. She glances at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Would your ride happen to be the mystery man who was sucking on your neck earlier?” She asks, causing you to let out an embarrassing sound while shoving her away.

“Oh my god, Nancy!” you exclaim, the heat returning to your face. “It’s not like that.” you insist, giving her a glare. Nancy only smiles to herself, continuing down the hall.

“I’m just a naturally inquisitive person, you should know this by now.” She chides you, a slight skip in her step. You have to roll your eyes. She truly was too nosy for her own good.

“I swear that curiosity is going to get you in trouble one day.” you tell her, pulling your jacket closer around you as she opens the doors, a gust of winter air bursting in.

“But today is not that day.” She says with a smile, offering you a wave as she rushes to Jonathan’s waiting car. “I’ll see you tonight!” She calls, climbing into the car. You wave to both of them as they pull away from the school.

You hesitate for a moment, but it's long enough for thoughts of Billy to fill your mind. You shiver at the memory as well as the chill in the air.

“Fuck.” you grumble, slinging your bag from your shoulder to pull out a slip of paper. You quickly scribble a note for Steve explaining that you are going to walk home and that you would see him at 8 to head to Tina’s, wedging it in the door on the driver side.

You walk home in record time. Your stride hurried, moving quickly, your sneakers eating up the pavement. It’s still not enough to chase the thoughts of Billy from your mind.

When you get home you busy yourself with cooking and starting on the laundry, anything to keep yourself busy. You tell your mom that you’ll be going out to a party with Steve tonight, earning a raised eyebrow and a knowing look. You don’t have the energy to scold her for her obvious thoughts about you and Steve. It’s really only gotten worse since Nancy and Jonathan officially started dating. Your mom is convinced that the two of you are just waiting a respectable amount of time before making it official. You really can't blame her for thinking that, he’s quickly become one of your closest friends and most of your time is spent together. To anyone else, it makes perfect sense.

8 o’clock rolls around and you’ve come to the conclusion that hiding a pistol under your christmas sweater won’t work. You settle on strapping a knife to your ankle, the little voice in your head not allowing you to leave unarmed… just in case.

Steve is in high spirits when he pulls into your driveway. He leaps out of the car to show you his obnoxiously decorated Christmas sweater. You pretend to shield your eyes from the gratuitous amounts of glittering tinsel adorning him, the light from his headlights reflecting off the multiple ornaments dangling from him. He chatters the whole way to the party. You’re thankful for the distraction, it’s harder to worry with Steve explaining how he made his sweater with the old Christmas decorations he found.

But, it’s impossible for you not to think about the last party Steve dragged you to. It’s crazy to think that was only a few weeks ago. Your chest tightens at the memory of Nancy drunkenly accusing you of killing Barb. The pain and guilt stab at the wound in your heart, reminding you of its permanence.

“We don’t have to go, you know?” Steve's voice jolts you from your memories. The car is parked on the street across from the already bustling party. Steve watches you, his eyes filled with concern and understanding. He offers you a small smile. “We can always rent Rudolf or something and-”

“I’m good Steve.” You cut him off, placing your hand over his and giving it a light squeeze. He immediately turns his palm into yours, interlocking your fingers. “And I desperately need a drink.” You smile, only half joking about that. Steve returns your smile, bringing your hand to his mouth placing a quick kiss on your knuckles. Your heart leaps.

“Now that’s the Christmas spirit!” He lets go of your hand before your blush can spread. He’s always doing things like this. You know it’s just how he is, always touching, playful, flirty. You sometimes can’t help your immediate reaction though.

The two of you climb out of the car, crossing the street. The house is filled with what seems to be the majority of the upperclassmen, upbeat Christmas music pouring from every window. Steve slings an arm across your shoulders as soon as you step inside, keeping you close to his side as he navigates to the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas!” He yells over the noise, pressing a cold beer into your hand. He taps his can against yours before popping the top and chugging. He finishes his drink before you’ve even taken a sip immediately reaching for another.

The two of you talk and drink, Steve finishing his drinks far faster than you. It’s impressive, he finishes three in the time it takes you to work through one. By the time he tosses away his 7th empty can it’s stopped being impressive and started being concerning. He’s still smiling and laughing, giving a lively (but tone deaf) rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’.

Then Nancy and Jonathan arrive. Steve pretends not to notice but between drinks you notice his eyes flickering to them. His drinks start coming faster, his laughter louder, his eyes glazed with a distant look. At one point he stops completely, he’s hazy eyes drifting over the crowd until they find what they are looking for. Nancy and Jonathan stand against the far wall, tucked away from the jostling crowd, whispering to each other like they are the only two in the room.

All the joy leeches from Steve’s face, his eyes falling to the half finished drink in his hands. You see the muscle in his jaw tick before he brings the drink to his lips, draining the remainder.

“Hey, do you want some water or something?” You ask, setting down your own drink. His gaze turns to you, struggling to focus.

“I’m fine.” He slurs, tossing away another empty can. He sways slightly with the motion, you quickly grasp his shoulders to steady him.

“You don’t look fine, Steve. I think you should take a break.” You tell him firmly, keeping your hands on his shoulders. He drunkenly smiles down at you.

“You’re so nice. Such a good friend.” he coos, swaying closer to you. “You’re the best.” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug, lifting you off the floor.

“Whoa!” You exclaim, your fists gripping his shirt tightly. He beams up at you, still smiling stupidly.

“You should come to Colorado with me. We can both go! My parents won’t even care, they never do.” He says excitedly. You know he’s talking about his family’s annual ski trip. He told you that they go every year for ‘Family time’, joking that it only lasts about a day. He’s been dreading it for the past week.

“Steve come on, you’re drunk.” you say, pushing on his shoulders slightly to see if he will set you down. His arms stay firmly locked around you. Glancing around you notice a few pairs of eyes on the two of you, causing your cheeks to burn.

“I can teach you how to ski! We can build snowmen and drink hot chocolate!” He continues, spinning you around a few times causing your heart to leap in your chest.

“Steve! Put me down!” you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you as he spins you again. He loosens his arms slightly, allowing you to slide down him until your face is level with his. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, his nose only an inch from yours.

“I-” Steve opens his mouth again but quickly closes it, a shudder running through him violently enough you feel it. He finally lowers you all the way back to the floor, his complexion suddenly looking pale. “I think I’m gunna-” he’s cut off by a heave, his body doubling over. You jump away, grabbing his arm and hauling him to the bathroom. You get him to the toilet just in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

Kneeling next to him you place a comforting hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles up and down his spine. When it feels like he’s gotten it all up, his body sags one arm on the toilet seat, his head pressed into the bend of his elbow.

“I’m going to get you some water and then I’m going to take you home, okay?” you tell him. You only receive a grumble in response. Slipping out the door, you close it behind you. The party continues outside, chattering, dancing, drinking.

You move through the crowd, retrieving a red plastic cup from the kitchen and filling it at the sink. You pause for a moment, you're not sure why, but when you glance around the room of gyrating teenagers that's when you see him. Billy.

He’s across the room, his normal crowd of acolytes surrounding him. You’re not sure why you thought he wouldn’t be here, a small part of you is stung that he didn’t say something earlier. He smiles, flashing his perfect teeth as he talks to Tommy and Carol. You see the people around him laughing at whatever he’s saying.

Like he can feel your eyes on him, he glances up. His eyes meet yours, sending a jolt through you. What happened this afternoon in the bathroom flashes through your mind with vivid clarity. You can almost feel it, his body pressed against you, his hands in your hair, his mouth… Your hand drifts to the spot on your neck where you know his mark still resides, hidden under the high neck of your sweater. His eyes track your movement, something like hunger flickering across his face.

A girl standing next to Billy slings her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against his as she grins up at him. Billy’s gaze breaks from you, his focus turning to the girl hanging on him. He smiles at her, his hand going to her waist.

Right.

You hate the sting you feel at the sight, immediately turning back to the bathroom. You silently curse yourself for even entertaining the idea that you and Billy… You stop that thought before it can even form.

“Is he okay?” Nancy’s voice startles you. You hadn’t noticed her standing next to Jonathan in the hallway until she had spoken. Glancing towards the closed bathroom door you know she’s worried. Jonathan places a comforting hand on her shoulder. For some reason it irritates you.

Steve is sick, drinking himself into numbness because of them. He manages to hide it so well normally but you know it hurts him. Is hurting him.

“He’s fine.” you say with your best approximation of a smile. “I’m just going to take him home.” you tell them.

Nancy nods, glancing to the bathroom again then up at Jonathan.

“We could help you get him home.” she offers, Jonathan nods to confirm.

“No, no, that’s okay.” You say. “I haven’t really been drinking so I’ll drive him in his car.” you explain. You don’t think Steve is ready to accept help from the two of them, yet. You smile sadly at Nancy. You know she wishes things were different, you do too. Maybe one day it will be, when Steve’s heart has time to heal.

“I’ll see you around Nance.” You say, offering her a reassuring smile. She nods in understanding. “Enjoy the party. Merry Christmas guys.” You tell them, Nancy pulls you into a quick hug that you carefully return trying not to spill the water. The two of them return to the party as you break away.

When you get back into the bathroom Steve has slumped back to sit against the wall, his head hanging between his knees. He’s pulled off his Christmas sweater and thrown it into the bathtub, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt.

“Hey champ, you feeling alright?” You ask, walking to stand over him.

“I feel like shit.” He grumbles, leaning his head back against the wall, his eyes pinched closed. “I got vomit on my sweater.” He tells you. You can't help but chuckle at his childish tone.

“I got you some water.” You tell him, offering him the cup. His eyes squint up at you as he takes the water, closing them again as he drinks.

“Thanks babysitter.” He mumbles, setting the empty cup down next to him.

“You’re welcome. Now come on, I’m taking you home.” you tell him. He doesn't protest as you grab his arm, helping him to his feet. He tells you to leave the handmade sweater despite your attempts to pick it up. Eventually you agree to abandon the monstrosity because it would be too hard to clean vomit from the tinsel. He sways, leaning heavily on you as you lead him out of the bathroom. You manage to get him to the car, helping him into the passenger seat. You swipe his keys from his pocket before buckling the seatbelt across his lap.

“At least buy me dinner first.” He manages to slur, a crooked smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes at his drunken attempt at flirtation.

“Alright lover boy, settle down.” You tell him, earning what you assume was supposed to be a wink but looks like a facial spasm. You laugh lightly, closing the door.

Looking back to the house you notice a lone figure standing in the shadows along the side of the house. You can see the glow of a cigarette burning in the darkness. You know it’s Billy. It’s alway him. It's like your gut has a 6th sense when it comes to knowing when he's around. Gripping the keys tightly you turn on your heel walking around the car to climb into the driver seat. Ignoring the feeling of his eyes following you.

The drive to Steves’ is uneventful. Christmas music playing softly on the radio, Steve humming drunkenly along with them. It gives you time to think. Unfortunately, you immediately think of Billy. You grit your teeth, your hands tighten around the wheel causing the leather to creek. You force yourself to take deep steadying breaths. For some reason the hole in your heart feels especially big.

Pulling into Steves’ driveway you put the car in park, hopping out and heading to the passenger side to help Steve. He groans when you open the door, letting the cold air in.

“Come on buddy.” you say, unbuckling him and trying to pull him from the car. Stve pulls back, resisting.

“I don wanna.” he slurs, curling away from the frozen air. You pull him harder, finally getting his legs out of the car.

“Steve, if you get out of the car, I’ll make hot chocolate.” you try to bribe him. He perks up slightly at that.

“With marshmallows?” he asks, looking up at you with the most heartbreaking puppy dog eyes you have ever seen. You note to yourself that alcohol makes his big brown eyes even more pitiful.

“Of course with marshmallows.” you promise him. He smiles happily, finally allowing you to pull him from his seat, slinging one of his arms over your shoulders to guide him to the house. You practically drag him up the front steps, unlocking the door with his keys. There is no way you are getting him up the stairs to his room like this, You settle for the living room, helping him settle on the couch as gently as you can. His head flops to one side, mumbling something under his breath.

You head for the kitchen, filling the kettle on the stove with water and turning on the heat. You gather your hot chocolate materials and grab two mugs from the cabinet scooping nesquik powder into both. You stand at the counter, bracing your hands in front of you as you wait for the water to boil.

You hear Steve’s shuffled footsteps coming from the living room, into the kitchen,

“I’m just working on the hot chocolate.” you say, keeping your back to him grabbing the bag of marshmallows.

You jump slightly when you feel him at your back. His chest is nearly touching you, his arms braced on either side of your hips. Most likely to keep him from falling over but effectively trapping you against the counter. His breath tickles the back of your neck as he lowers his head to rest on your shoulder. You wonder briefly if he can see your scars sticking out from the neck of your sweater.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you swallow past it, focusing on the bag of marshmallows clutched in your hands. You wait, unsure of how to move with him this close. If you push back even an inch your back will be pressed flush against his chest. Finally he speaks, barely a whisper.

“What did I do wrong?” His voice is thick, heavy with emotion. You see his hands shaking as they clutch at the counter. Your heart constricts. “I loved her so much. What’s wrong with me?” He asks, his voice cracking. He presses his forehead harder against your shoulder, you feel his tears soaking through your sweater, his shoulders beginning to shake.

“Oh Steve.” You say quietly, finally turning to face him. Your hip brushes against his, your lower back pressing against the counter as you look up at him, taking his face in your hands. He keeps his head bowed, his chin quivering as fresh tears well up in his eyes. You lean forward, holding his gaze, wiping away the tears racing down his cheeks. “Hey, listen to me. There is nothing wrong with you Steve.” you tell him firmly, willing him to believe you. He leans into your touch, his breathing shallow as it ghosts along the inside of your wrist. He sniffles gently, both of his hands moving to your hips gripping you tightly like you might slip away if he doesn't keep hold of you.

“I think you’re my best friend.” He mumbles, turning his face slightly into your hand pressing a light kiss to your palm. Your heart breaks for him. You once thought Steve Harrington had a million friends and you couldn’t possibly be one of them. But here you both are, broken, damaged, scared, and together.

“You're my best friend too.” You reply quietly, gently brushing his hair from his forehead. He holds your gaze, his brown eyes warm and kind as they watch you. You hate seeing him like this. He hides it so well but you know that this part of him is always there, in the back of his mind, whispering, doubting, telling him there is something wrong with him. Never good enough.

One of his hands comes up to take yours, pulling it from his face down to his chest. He holds your hand there, flat against his chest where you can feel his heart beating. He watches you, like if he holds your hand there you will be able to feel the cracks in his heart. The beat is strong and steady, despite how broken it is. He leans in slightly, lowering his head to press his forehead against yours. You both stand there for a moment, in the silent kitchen, just holding each other.

The sound of the kettle whistling breaks the two of you apart. You quickly pour the water into the mugs, mixing them, before adding the marshmallows. You ignore the slight shake in your hands. Steve doesn't seem to notice when you hand him his mug, slowly shuffling back to the living room. The two of you settle onto the couch, Steve pulls your legs over his lap, slouching down into the cushions as he blows on his coco. The two of you sit in comfortable silence sipping on the warm drinks. After a few minutes, Steve sets his drink down and lays down horizontally on the couch, his head resting on your lap.

Without thinking you gently brush your fingers through his hair. He sighs, leaning into your touch. His breathing evens out and he’s soon asleep. You are the furthest thing from sleep. When you finish your hot chocolate, and Steve is quietly snoring into the couch cushions, you stand from the couch and put on your shoes.

As quietly as you can, you fill a glass of water and leave it on the coffee table next to some tylenol for Steve. Then, borrowing one of Steve's large winter jackets, you bundle yourself up and step outside, making sure the door is locked using the spare key hidden under the mat.

Taking a deep breath of the cold night air, you exhale into the darkness before heading towards the street.

AN: Hope you guys enjoyed that! Another party ending in tears, these idiots just don't know how to have a good time.

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