things are never going to be the same

BTS replaced you. - pt.END

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]


Originally posted by mimibtsghost

“You guys have no idea how hurt she is that you basically threw her to the curb and left her like that.” I looked at all seven of the men who stood before me after Y/N had ran to her room and closed the door behind her.

“Why are you interfering? What did you say to her to get her to hate us like this?” Jungkook stood before me, squaring up as if he was ready to throw a punch. But I took a step back.

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Prom/ Billy Hargrove

Written: 11/20/2017

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Requested by @thedangersofbeingtoocool

You never thought that this day would come, so when you say you were stunned it was an understatement. Billy stood right in front of you asking you to prom. He had that same grin he walks when he asked you for something and of course you said yes. He smiled before going to class.

It was the day. Prom day. You were excited only because you get to go with your boyfriend. You checked yourself out in the mirror when you heard the door open and your mum screaming that he was here. You took one final breathe before grabbing you purse and walking down. Billy watched you in awe because you looked beautiful.

“Wow” is all he could say as you smiled. Your mum took some pictures and with some I mean a hundred. You took one final picture where Billy was kissing you before you told your mum you had to go. You got into Billy’s car as he closed your door before going into the driver seat. On your way Billy would sometimes look at you and back to the road. He parked the car before walking over to your side opening it and helping you out.

“Since when are you a gentleman?” You ask smiling as he softly pushed you against his car.

“Since I want you to remember this day as a good one, and also because I love you” as you blushed making him smirk.

“Let’s get going” as you intertwined your hand with his. You looked around as you saw Nancy and Jonathan. They made their way over to you and Billy.

“Wow you look great, both of you” you thanked them as you looked to see Billy already staring at you smiling. When this year started you dreaded the day prom would come because you thought you had to go alone. When Billy came you couldn’t wait for that day. You talked to Nancy when you favourite Song came on.

“Would you like to dance?” Billy says as he pushed his hand out for you to take. You waved to Nancy before walking to the dance floor with Billy. He put his hands on your waist as you put yours around his neck pulling him closer. You swayed from side to side just looking at each other. That’s when his favorite song came up which lead him to turn you around and you slowly grinded into him. He guided your hips as he started to kiss your neck, but before he even had the chance to create a hickey, you pulled away and motion for him to follow you.

“You don’t know how much I love you” you say outside as he pecks your lips and turned around the corner before pulling Billy towards you. He put his hands on either side of your face and you tilted your head so he had better access.

“Couldn’t wait until we were home huh?” He says as he licked his lips grinning before you shut him up by kissing him. He went to your neck again sucking your skin as he left some hickeys that were probably hard to cover up in the morning.

“Billy” you moaned his name as you felt him smirk.

“What do you say let’s ditch this place and go home; have some fun on our own?” He says pulling away. You nodded and he pulled you towards his car.

“My mum should be out by now so let’s get to my place” you say looking at the clock as he sped off. You laughed as his impatience and wondered what you did to deserve someone like Billy.

Originally posted by cxhragrove

anonymous asked:

Will plushie su Bucky ever ask Tony out?

Unfortunately no. He’s not brave enough. He’s too broken. Some days he disassociates so hard that even Steve can’t handle sitting with him.

And Tony will never ask Bucky, because he’s afraid to push, afraid to make things worse, because what if it just stresses Bucky out more? What if this is just something that he does as a coping mechanism, and Tony is making it out to be more than it is? No. Bucky will have to come to him.

(Crochet Winter Soldier and Crochet Iron Man go on another adventure. CIM saves CCW like he always does. It’s very sweet.

“So, um,” CWS says, the hand holding him upright trembling a little. “I know this diner that still exists from the forties. Food tastes the same, even. Would. Would you maybe like to go there with me? As. As a um. Date.”

CIM is silent, and the hand holding him trembles, too, before the video abruptly ends.)

((Tony is breathless when he knocks on Bucky’s door. Perhaps running up from the workshop was a little overkill, but he’s nervous-excited-scared and he’d wanted to burn off the excess energy it caused. Bucky opens the door and he looks surprised and then so, so scared, but Tony bursts in past him, toward the living room.

Bucky swallows thickly when Tony turns from the coffee table, CIM in one hand and CWS in the other. Tony looks at him and his eyes are bright with unshed tears. Bucky doesn’t know what that means and he’s scared all over again.

“I would love to go to the diner with you,” Tony makes CIM say, voice shaking with emotion.

Bucky’s breath hitches.

“I’ve been waiting forever for you to ask me,” Tony continues.

A tear rolls down Bucky’s cheek.

“I’ve been waiting forever for you,” Tony repeats, and lets out a shaky breath, gulps another back in.

Bucky opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, he’s so overwhelmed.

“I’ll wait forever for you,” Tony whispers, then looks down at the dolls and bites his bottom lip. He brings CIM in close, so close, and brushes CIM’s face against CWS’s, in the softest brush of a kiss against a cheek that Bucky’s ever seen.

Bucky still can’t say anything but he walks over and gathers Tony into his arms.))

(((“I can’t believe you’re making little food for them,” Tony says gleefully. “You know they make this stuff, right? Plastic, even, so it never goes bad.”

“If you don’t like my authenticity you can fuck off,” Bucky says, meticulously cutting a little square from a leaf of lettuce for one of the teeny-tiny burgers. “I’ve been doing this Instagram without you for months.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Tony says fondly.

Bucky looks up at him sternly. It doesn’t quite cover the fondness in his voice. “You crochet, you big lummox. You can’t cast the first stone.”

Tony sniffs in disdain. “You wouldn’t have this Instagram if it wasn’t for me.”

“I wouldn’t have a lot of things if it wasn’t for you,” Bucky answers without looking away from cutting another square of lettuce. He’s sincere and it’s awful because Tony doesn’t know what to do with that.

So he turns back to crocheting another doll, this time without the mask or the removable goggles or the body armor. This one’s just Bucky.

He keeps it in his room to cuddle and Bucky only teases him a little when he finds it.)))

lunacyandpirates  asked:

(Omg what an au, I love you) I have a habit of creating non-swears to express frustration, and I could imagine Yuuri doing the same. He gets annoyed and finally just snaps and tells the person annoying him to "go mop a deck" or "go polish the anchor" etc. Of course sometimes it's an object annoying you, in which case he just pushes it over and snarls "stay on the floor, see if I care!"

Ahahaha, the ship would never be cleaner. Good thing Yuuri does try to control himself.

Covet

Modern AU, Runaway AU

Gray began to erase Sansa’s vision, blurring it, then suddenly bursts of white exploded behind her eyes as her head hit the glass behind. She couldn’t afford to pay it any mind, too focused on trying to breathe, lungs desperately pulling against the barrier of the hands around her neck, windpipe crushed in a cruel grip. She should never have gotten in the car. She’d thought, foolishly, that she could talk to him, resolve things, settle them once and for all. He’d had the same idea, apparently, but a much different outcome in mind. Girls didn’t dump Joffrey Baratheon, he’d informed her before lunging for her throat; he decided when he was done with them. And he’d decided he wasn’t done with her. Now she was going to die for her stupidity–

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12772989

How is it that any time things start to go well they suddenly change and drop downhill

How is it the only things that make me happy make me selfish and a bitch

How is it I know that things will never be the same even though I want them to be

How is it I can be happy around you when I know in the end you will break me

How is it that I can let myself

love

you

castorochiaro  asked:

dude, i totally have the same hc about junkrat marking his lovers. like i have this running hc that junkers like to brand their property, and that ABSOLUTELY includes their partners. some of the less scrupulous junkers have like an actual brand, and others prefer just to leave bitemarks.

Oh my god same. Right down to the branding but I could never see Junkrat doing that. He’d leave bite marks to hell and back though. Allll over their neck and there’d be hickies everywhere too. 

I really want to write something with this at some point. Like Junkrat and someone go back to Junkertown for some reason and his partner has no idea about the junker’s marking their partners thing or how important it is to them.

last week my student and i kept getting sidetracked by talking about stranger things instead of maths, so this week we did some

ie. a paper full of st-based problems (helping joyce calculate the perimeters of rooms for light-hanging purposes, working out who the party’s fastest runners are, using direct proportion to chart dart’s growth and drawing distance-time graphs to show how long it takes kali and the gang to perform a hit)

i’ve done this before with community questions (different student) but this time was even better, we didn’t go off-topic because the topic was already stranger things, and i quote, “maths has never been this fun before!”

so yeah, it’s amazing what context-that’s-actually-interesting can do. we’re gonna do more of the same next week (at her insistence, not that i took much convincing) and i just have to make sure i don’t accidentally make any of lucas’s hypotheses wrong next time, because she wasn’t very impressed with that.

anonymous asked:

The thing with Nicotero directing the 7x12 love scene reminds me of what he did with Danai in season 4 where she slays all those walkers in the woods when she gets separated from the group after the prison falls. She talked about it on a talk show and said that they planned on her only killing a few (to stay under budget), but he never yelled cut so she kept going lol. Maybe he just really loves watching those two do their thing on screen :,)

Lmao. I feel like he didn’t have the same energy about this situation, but you know, maybe.

It has been a long night…freaking hell, so many emotions right now. I still wonder how they make me feel like 1000000 different things at the same time and in such a short period of time, they are amazing, they were amazing tonight. So proud of them and all the things they have achieved, I’m confident there is going to be so much more of BTS in the future, they have a long way and I hope I can walk the journey with them, I WANT to and I will. 

Notes to the girl whose house I live in

by reddit user JJX2525

It took me a week to find where you keep your wifi password. A whole week! I was really worried you’d thrown it away, but lo and behold, there it was in the cutlery drawer of all places. Everything about the way you organize things confuses me. I guess because you live on your own now you just put things any old place. I know there was someone else before, I heard you talking about him on the phone. Johnny, I think? Jimmy? Anyway, I know because you said it was tough being alone. But you’re not alone, of course. You have me!

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Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

because you’re a different person.
because you don’t feel the same way anymore.
because we’re growing apart more every day.
because i’m scared to tell you how i feel.
because i think you’re only staying since it’d be easier than leaving because you tell me you love me but i don’t feel the same want and warmth now.
because i cried and begged and poured my heart out– left everything out on the table and you ignored all of it so easily.
because i think i’m being crazy and insecure and imagining things, but am i?

how did we go from laying in bed with my face buried in the nook of your arm, crying while you held me and told me things would be different this time. that it would be hard but you wanted me and us and a future together. that you loved me and we were partners and we would grow through life.

now i’m laying here wondering why i even told you what was bothering me. you brushed it off, made me feel like i was overreacting or being the crazy girlfriend. we didn’t even talk today. we don’t talk much anymore. maybe it is my fault. i didn’t see it happen, things were good and slowly we just stopped having things to say to each other.

how else do you react when you feel like you’re losing someone that’s supposed to be your person? i fought for him and our relationship– so he stayed. except i keep thinking back on everything i said and the silence i got in return. and it hurts and it scares me that he feels distant now. so i tell myself i am overreacting, i’m asking for too much. but he used to love that, he used to tell me he loved it when i texted him constantly, tell me sweet things throughout the day. i loved it. i miss it.

the moment i begin to feel insecure and doubt the other persons’ feelings, that’s when all hell breaks loose. thoughts race in my mind, jumping from conclusion to conclusion without a break.

i never had to question it before, that’s why i’m so terrified now. i thought telling him would make me feel better, but his reaction wasn’t what i’d expected.

he used to want to know what was going on in my mind, reassure me of my doubts. things aren’t the same anymore. i’m scared that it won’t be again. i’m not sure how to fix this. i love him more than anything and as much as i can’t stay with someone who doesn’t love me, i can’t bear to leave.

—  aftertheam 
Livestreaming//Finn Wolfhard x reader

Fuck so this is my first ever imagine here and I apologize if it’s shitty yikessss. 

Thank you for 200 followers by the way! This is my gift from me, to all of you. 

Warnings: None lol, just pure fluff


You and Finn have been best friends for almost two years now. You guys first met on the set of Stranger Things and since then you have been inseparable. You guys got a long so well that sometimes people mistake you two as a couple. You and Finn are aware of the fans shipping you two and you honestly didn’t mind because well, you like Finn. I mean, what’s not to like about him anyway? He’s sweet, caring, and kind. What more could you want?

Millie was the first one to notice that you liked Finn. You didn’t know how because you made sure to not be obvious about it. Millie was great at reading people, she considered it as one of her talents. She always pushed you to tell Finn about your feelings for him because she believes that Finn felt the same way. You didn’t believe that though, it was crazy. How could Finn Wolfhard like you? It was just too wild so you constantly brushed that idea away whenever it came up.


After promoting season two of Stranger Things, you and the rest of the cast were given a break. Finn invited you to spend the break with him in Vancouver to which you happily accepted. 

“Can you get your foot off of my face? Gosh you dick.” You said jokingly as you pushed Finn’s foot away from you face. You guys were laying opposite from each other on Finn’s bed, just hanging out and talking about random things. 

“You’re so rude.” Finn replied as he continued to place his foot on your face. 

“Says the person constantly placing their foot on my face.” You rolled your eyes playfully as you continued to push Finn’s foot away.

“Hey I know,” Finn suddenly bolts up and sits down, “We should do a livestream! We can sing together and answer questions!” Finn smiled as he proposed his idea to you. 

“I’m okay with livestreaming, but can we not sing? I don’t even sing well.” You said you continue to lay down on Finn’s bed. Finn loves the way you sing, he’s been trying to get you to sing with an audience, but you weren’t so keen to the idea. That doesn’t stop him from suggesting it every once in awhile though. 

“Oh come on, Y/N! You sing great, I wouldn’t be constantly bothering you to sing if you weren’t good!” Your best friend said as he shook your leg, “Come on pleaaasssseee?” 

“Fine, just one song though.” You say as you sit up. 

Finn smiled so widely which caused you to smile too, his smile was contagious. 

“That’s enough for me.” Finn got out of his bed to go get his guitar. You grabbed your phone which was placed on Finn’s night stand and opened Instagram. In a few minutes, Finn was back with his guitar. He then sits beside you and you give him your phone. Finn quickly switches out of your account to his account and he then starts the livestream. Viewers rolled in the stream in no time. He then places your phone on his nightstand so he didn’t have to hold it during the stream. 

“Hey guys so, Y/N and I decided to livestream because we’re bored and guess whattttt.” Finn said and comments saying “What” started pouring in. “Y/N and I are going to be taking song requests so go ahead and request!”

“Uhm requests? I thought we agreed on doing only one song?” 

“Sorry nope, change of plans Y/N, we’re singing our heart out today.” Finn said with a teasing wink which made you roll your eyes. 

“Why are you like this? You’re so annoying.” You said while jokingly pushing Finn away from you.

“You love me though.”

“No I hate you.”

You both didn’t notice but every time you spoke to each other, the closer you sat together. With every word spoken, you and Finn scoot closer to each other.

@strangerthingsfansxxx: fuCK I SHIP THIS SO MUCH Y’ALL DON’T EVEN TRY TO FIGHT ME ABOUT THIS

milliebobbybrown: you guys are so cute!!!!

wyattoleff: “we’re just friends!12!!!21212!1″ 

jackdgrazer: just date already smh

You and Finn leaned in closer to your phone’s screen and read everyone’s comments. 

ahoeforstrangerthings: okay but every time they talk, they scoot closer to each other fuck THIS IS THE TYPE OF CONTENT LIVE FOR

You and Finn both read the same comment and quickly scooted away from each other. You tried to play it cool, but you were slowly losing it. Your hands were getting clammy and your heartbeat was slowly rising. Finn on the other hand was blushing crazy.

“OKKKKAYYY, so a lot of people requested for Girl Crush by Little Big Town so we’ll do that.” Finn said while getting his guitar ready, you quickly look at him and saw that his face was red. You cleared your throat and started singing as soon as Finn strummed the first chord to the song. Finn would harmonize with you every now and then.

dontfuckpennywise: funny how Finn chose to do this song ;)

sophialillis: you guys sing so good together damn sOMEOEN GIVE THEM A RECORD DEAL

A few minutes later, you and Finn finished singing the song. Everyone was cheering in the comments which made you smile. 

“Alright that’s enough songs for today, I told Y/N we’d only do one song. Don’t worry though, I’m going to try and convince her to do more song covers in the future.” Finn teased as he turned his face towards you to give you a smirk. 

“That won’t happen sir, not on my watch.” You reply while smiling at Finn. You two kind of stared at each other’s eyes for a few seconds. There was this electrifying feeling coursing through the both of you, but you didn’t know why you felt that way. 

uncle_jezzy: electricity

strangestthings: OH SHIT MOTHER STEVE JSUT SAID ELECTRICITY JDNFJSVDNFVJNJDFNV 

(YourShipName)isreal: JOE APPROVES

Finn looks through the comments again and sees Joe Keery’s comment, he turns red as he mouths the word ‘electricity.’ You choked on your saliva as you read Joe’s comment, but you played it cool by acting as if you were just coughing.

“Okay we’ll take questions now, go crazy but not too crazy with the comments you guys.” You say as you looked at your phone screen searching for good questions.

gatenm123: i miss you guys!! when are you guys planning on visiting me? :DDDD

“We miss you too and we’re planning on visiting you for sure, Gaten. We just don’t know when yet. We’ll let you know.” Finn said and you nodded in agreement. 

cuddlesand(YourShipName): are you guys dating? ;)

“NOPE! JUST FRIENDS!” You and Finn said simultaneously as you came across the question from @//cuddlesand(YourShipName). You found it quite interesting how the both of you replied at the same time at the same comment, but decided to dismiss it. Surely it was just a coincidence, right?

“I’m so cold what the hell? Can you change the temperature of thermostat please?” You asked Finn as you rubbed your hands on your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“The thermostat is all the way downstairs, that’s a lot of work. Here just-” Finn turns around and tugs on his bed’s comforter, “Here.” Finn covers the both of you with his comforter which helped with the temperature situation. 

“Better?” 

“Yeah, better. Thank you, Finnie.” 

“Stop that.” You laughed as Finn rolled his eyes as a joke, he secretly loved when you called him Finnie.

The fans freaked out, both of you were sure that there will be edits of you two all over the internet after the livestream and you didn’t mind at all.

thestrangestofthings: are you guys sure that you’re just friends? I mean come on!!! Look at you guys!! 

As you read @//thestrangestofthings’s comment, you couldn’t help but remember Millie’s advice: “Just tell him how you feel Y/N.” Millie’s voice echoed inside your head.

“Finn doesn’t like me like that, you guys.” You say as you effortlessly hid your disappointment, you were an actor after all.

“What if you’re wrong?” Finn suddenly blurted out while turning towards you and looking at you straight in the eyes.

The comments section exploded.

“What do you mean wrong? I… I don’t under-”

“Well, what if I do like you, Y/N? What if I told you right now that I have liked you for two years now? What if I told you that when I first met you, I immediately liked you, and not just friend like, you know… like…like.”

You stared at Finn, tears of joy threatened to spill out of you as you stared at each other. You couldn’t believe what he was saying, there was just now way.

(YSN)kisses: HOOOOOOLLLY SHIT HOOOLLLY SHITJDFNGJSDFJGNHFGH

therealcalebmclaughlin: I owe The Duffer Brothers $20 

sadiesink_: @//therealcalebmclaughlin you and the duffer brothers were betting? lollllll

You slowly processed everything that Finn just said, it was hard for you to accept it but slowly you digested the new information.

“Well Finnie, what if I told you that I too have liked you for about two years now.”

therealcalebmclaughlin: we been knew sis

noahschnapp: this is old news 

mikessweaters: LMFAO CALEB IM CKMKFGdfdf

If smiles could actually melt a person, you would be melting now. Finn was beaming at you. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that the girl he has liked for two years feels the same way. Never in Finn’s wildest dreams thought Y/N would ever feel the same way. To Finn, this whole thing felt like a dream.

beepbeeptozier: get you a man that looks at you the way Finn looks at Y/N

Finn scoots closer to you and you do the same causing the small gap between you two to disappear. You were dangerously close to each other now, but you both didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you liked how close you were. You faced each other your foreheads touching.

elevenloveseggos: ARE THEY GOING TO KISS WHAY THE FUCKELKFOGOVLLFLFKFKFF

Finn gently places his hand on your cheek and begins to lean in. The next thing you know, you were also leaning in. 

jaedenwesley: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

milliebobbybrown: oH MY GOSH

Before you two actually kissed, your phone falls off Finn’s nightstand. You were glad that that happened. you didn’t want three thousand or more people to watch you and Finn kiss. You felt selfish for wanting to have that moment all to yourself, but you didn’t care. All that matters now is that your best friend feels the same way and that Millie was right all along. 

The kiss felt magical, all the cliche story or movie descriptions of how a kiss should feel like were actually accurate. You felt sparks everywhere and you felt like you were going to explode. The world stops for a second or two and it was just you and Finn for a little while. A few seconds later, you and Finn pull away from each other. 

“Holy shit.” said Finn while smiling from ear to ear.

“Holy shit indeed.” You reply with a giggle. You quickly pick up your phone from the floor and looked through the comments: 

gatenm123: bet you they kissed

jackdgrazer: of course they did @//gatenm123 no doubt about that ;)

janehoppereggo: IM SO HAPPY THAT MY SHIP IS REAL FUCK I LOVE MY CHILDREN WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL

sophialillis: pay up @//chosenjacobs

“Alright thanks for watching you guys! Sorry about that whole mess… yikes.” You say as your face flushed. 

“We’ll do another livestream tomorrow, we’ll sing more songs, I promise. Bye!!!” 

Before Finn ended the livestream there was one more comment:

dkharbour: no funny business after this livestream. You know what I mean.

Over a decades worth of material and the debates still rage. Music critics and fans, alike, are still arguing over which album is Taylor Swift’s best work.

You know why…cause there ain’t no duds…she evolved with every album…she never did the same thing twice…each album stands strong on its own. Of course we can’t all agree. Each one has its own unique selling point.

I don’t expect reputation to be any different. It’s going to slide right into the debate and fight for its spot at the top of the list…

2

you steal me away
with your eyes and with your mouth

for bleep0bleep

Je T’aime, Mon Cher Eddie

For @time-for-tozier who came up with this idea, I hope you like it!!

Eddie watched as the clock’s minute hand moved towards the number 12, making a ticking noise as it wet round. He was so fixated that he jumped when the bell rang, the cue for people around him to pack up and leave the room.

He slammed his yellow note book shut and shoved it, and his pencil, into his backpack, before running out of the classroom to meet up with the other losers.

He sprinted down the hallways, bumping into several people and nearly tripping twice, before he reached the door. He swung the door open and walked to the bike rack around the side of the school.

“Hey Eddie,” Ben called to him as he walked over.

“Hey guys,” Eddie took in the positions of his friends. Mike was sat on the ground, fiddling with his bike, it kept breaking. Ben was sat on a bench about a meter away from the bike rack, a book resting open on his lap. Beverly was sitting on her bike seat, hands already gripping the handlebars as if she was in a hurry to go. Bill and Stan were stood next to each other, however, Eddie noticed, much too close to be considered normal. And Richie, well, he was being his usual self. He was hung upside down on one the metal bannister of a nearby stair case, dark hair brushing the ground.

“Eds! You finally arrived!” Richie near shouted bouncing his way back over to the group. “Can we go now?”

The losers collectively rolled their eyes and grabbed their bikes, climbing on and cycling towards the woods.

Their was a field there that they had claimed as their new hangout. It was completely secluded and surrounded by trees. In the spring, the ground was covered in daisies, Richie loved it, and prided himself on making “the best daisy chains in Derry”. In the Summer and Autumn, the grass was green and soft. And in the Winter, the Loser’s decided to just hand out at each other’s houses instead, with the careful avoidance of the Tozier, Marsh and Kaspbrak residences.

They were all laying on the grass. Beverly had her head resting on Ben’s lap as he sat cross legged playing with her hair. Stan and Bill were laying shoulder to shoulder, Mike was spread out like a starfish, and Richie was resting his head on Eddie’s stomach.

They were peaceful.

“Richie, I couldn’t help but to notice that you were in my French class this morning.” Bev spoke up, breaking the silence.

She knew there had to be a reason behind his sudden appearance in the class. She knew that she took it so that one day, when she was old enough, she could move to France and never look back. She knew that Stan’s parents wanted him to focus more on his religion. She knew that Ben was already fluent in the language and didn’t need to take a class. She knew that Bill found it too hard because of his stutter. She knew that Mike and Eddie simply didn’t want to take the subject, seeing no reason for it.

So what was Richie’s reason?

“You take French?” Eddie chuckled, sitting up. “Since when?”

“Well, obviously since this morning dipshit. I already know how to say some stuff. Such as,” Richie cleared his throat. “Ta mère aime ça dans le cul.”

Bev’s head shot up. “Beep Beep Richie.”

“W-what did he say?” Bill asked.

“Do you really want me to tell you?” Bev whined. The rest of the group, bar Richie and Ben, nodded. She sighed. “He said “your mother likes it up the ass.”

Groans of “Richie”, and “really?” We passed around as Richie smirked.

“Hey Rich? Do you know anything that’s not rude?” Eddie asked.

“Umm yeah,” Richie replied. “Eddie, tu as de beaux yeux.” (You have beautiful eyes)

“What does that mean?”

“Ahh, my dear Eddie Spaghetti, that is a secret.”

“Don’t call me that. Bev? Can you tell me what he said?” Eddie asked Beverly, who was staring at Richie with a strange look on her face. She stared for a few more moments before turning to Eddie.

“Sorry Eddie, I don’t know what he said.”

————

The next morning Richie bounced into school with too much energy for 7am on a Tuesday.

“Good morning, mes petits choux.” He smiled, leaning his chin on Eddie’s head.

“Richie, if I may ask, why did you just call us ‘your little cabbages’?” Ben questioned.

“I did it because I felt like it.” Just then the bell rang for class.

“Um, Richie? Can I talk you you for a sec? In private?” Beverly asked. Richie nodded, he loved the girl like family, they both dealt with similar issues in their home lives. “Do you like Eddie? You know, as in like him?”

Richie blushed. “No, where did you get that idea?”

“You’re always hugging him, you never stop staring at him, and yesterday you told him, in French, that he had beautiful eyes.”

“You said you didn’t understand what I said!”

“Well I lied, I guessed that you didn’t really want me to tell him, otherwise you would have simply said it in English.” She sighed. “Richie, what’s the real reason you started taking French class? You know I’m not going to judge you.”

Richie sighed. “I’ve been dealing with so much at home and then I come to school and he,” Richie leant back against the wall. “He makes me feel safe, and, I dunno, loved I guess? I just wanted a way to tell him how I feel and explain what’s happening at home. But it was way too painful to say it all in English, so I thought it’d be easier to tell him in another language.”

“Oh, Richie.” Beverly wrapped him in a hug. “That’s so sweet.” Richie gave her a half smile, and they began walking to their first class, which happened to be French.

———-

Eddie was just dozing off when he hears the taps at his window. At first he was scared that it was a leper, or a murderer, but he was assured it wasn’t when someone spoke up from behind the glass and curtains.

“Eddie? You awake?” Eddie pushed he covers off and got out of bed, he walked over to the window and opened the curtains.

The person at his window was Richie.

“C-can I come in?” Eddie could see the tears making their way steadily down Richie’s cheeks. He pushed the window open as quietly as he could and Richie clambered in.

“Rich, are you okay? What happened?” Instead of the answer Eddie knew he wasn’t going to get, Richie clutched him in a hug, openly sobbing.

Eddie guided Richie over to his bed and lates him down so that Richie’s head was resting above his heart. He never got answers, but he knew how to calm his best friend down. He liked listening to Eddie’s heartbeat, to confirm he wasn’t alone, and he like it when Eddie ran his fingers through his hair.

That’s exactly what Eddie was doing when Richie stopped crying and mumbled something.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

“Je t'aime. S’il te plaît, ne me quitte jamais.” (I love you. Please never leave me.)

Richie fell asleep soon after that, Eddie had no idea what the sleeping boy had said to him.

Over the next few months, Richie refused to stop talking in French whilst around Eddie. Beverly noticed he would constantly be blushing whenever Richie spoke the foreign words, in a thick accent. All of the Losers agreed that it was The only good impression Richie Tozier had ever done. During these months, Bev had to put up with Richie’s constant pining for Eddie.

She would always catch him calling Eddie a ‘magnifique petit tournesol’ (gorgeous little sunflower) or telling Eddie that he ‘avait l'air si mignon dans ce pull’ (looked so cute in that sweater’. He even said ‘Mon Amour.’ (My love) a few times

She was fed up of it. She knew without a doubt that Eddie had the same feelings towards Richie. So, during their 5th period geography class, Bev gave Richie a stern talking to.

“You need to tell him.”

“What?”

“Eddie! You need to tell him how you feel! I’m like 99% sure he reciprocates your feelings.”

“Yes Bev, but what about the 1% hmm?” Beverly rolled her eyes, they spent the rest of the lesson in silence.

A few weeks passed and Richie and Eddie found themselves alone at Loser’s Meadow, as the gang had dubbed it, watching the sun set.

“Eddie, I’m about to ramble in French and you just need to listen, you don’t need to understand.”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Oh, okay.” He secretly loved it when Richie spoke French, however, he’d never admit it.

“Vous ne comprenez pas un mot que je dis en ce moment, et honnêtement? Je pense que c'est une bonne chose.

(You don’t understand a word im saying right now, and honestly? I think thats a good thing.)

J'avais besoin d'un moyen de pouvoir te dire ce que je ressens sans que tu me détestes.

(I needed a way to be able to tell you how i feel without you hating me.)

Parce que je sais que tu ne m'aimes pas en retour. Qui pourrait m'aimer de retour? Je suis un morceau de merde sans valeur.

(Because I know you don’t love me back. Who could love me back? I’m a worthless piece of shit.)

Vous voyez, vous n'avez absolument aucune idée de ce que je dis. En ce moment, tes joues sont d'un rouge vif avec combien tu rougis, et ton sourire n'a jamais été aussi beau.

(See, you have absolutely no idea what I’m saying. Right now, your cheeks are bright red with how much you’re blushing, and your smile has never been more beautiful.)

Tant que je continue à sourire et à parler, ce regard restera sur votre visage. Je ne veux jamais que tu arrêtes de sourire.

(As long as I keep smiling and talking, that look will stay on your face. I never want you to stop smiling.)

Ok, maintenant pour la vraie merde.

(Okay, now for the real shit.)

Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime depuis que nous avons neuf ans. Vous avez toujours été mon refuge, pour les nuits où il n'est pas sûr de rentrer à la maison, ou j'en ai fini avec le monde.

(Eddie Kaspbrak, I have loved you since we were 9 years old. You have always been my safe haven, for nights when it isn’t safe to go home, or I’m just done with the world.)

Vous êtes la seule personne à qui je fais confiance. Sauf ça. C'est la seule chose que vous ne saurez jamais, parce que je sais que vous ne ressentirez jamais la même chose.

(You are the one person I trust everything to. Except this. This is the one thing that you’ll never know, because I know you’ll never feel the same.)

Je t'aime Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime.

(I love you Eddie Kaspbrak, I love you.)”

Eddie giggled. “What the hell did you just say?”

“Oh, um, just a very detailed description of your mom’s vagina. I can retell it in English if you’d like?”

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie said whilst laughing, as Richie sat admiring him, a wistful expression on his face.

A few days later saw Richie climbing into Eddie’s window at 3am with a bust lip and a black eye and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Without having to ask, Eddie pulled him into his bed and wrapped his arms around the crying boy. Richie wouldn’t stop muttering something in French until he fell asleep.

“Je t'aime.” Eddie made himself a promise that he’d look those words up as soon as the library was open tomorrow.

As soon as Richie left the next morning, Eddie pulled on a Red sweatshirt, one of Richie’s that he’d left behind years ago, and some shorts. He ran out of the house, making sure to kiss his mother goodbye before he left, and raced to the library.

He walked in and asked the receptionist to point him towards the ‘languages’ section.

He grabbed himself the first French dictionary he could find and flipped straight to the ‘T’ chapter, he already knew that ‘Je’ mean ‘I’.

Eddie gasped when he read the meaning. He dropped the book, causing a loud thud, and ran straight for the exit. He clambered back onto his bike and sped down the streets. He knew where Richie would be. The out of use highway bridge. He would always go there on a Saturday to smoke, listen to The Smiths and get away from his Parents.

Eddie threw his bike down as soon as he arrived, taking a puff from his asthma inhaler. “Richie?” He called out.

“Eddie?” He looked up to see Richie sat on the bridge’s ledge, feet swinging backwards and forwards. Eddie began to run up the hill towards the dark haired boy, whilst said boy stumbled down towards him. They met halfway.

“Eds, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting your mother or something.”

“Je t'aime aussi.” Eddie stated, not even bothering to tell Richie off for calling him Eds.

“What?” Richie looked unsure of what he’d just heard.

“Je t’aime aussi.” Eddie took a breath. “I love you too.”

Richie wasted no time in pulling Eddie in by his waist, connecting their lips. Eddie fisted his hands in the collar of Richie’s shirt. They pulled away a few moments later, in need of air, and rested their foreheads together.

This felt right. This felt like home.

The demon takes Adam’s body until Persephone reminds him that he never told the demon that it could. Adam’s so smart, such a problem solver, it’s odd that he didn’t figure this one out himself. Except. Adam’s body has never been his own. Adam’s grown up with his body being a thing for other people to use for their own purposes. Adam has spent his life dissociating from his body because he never knows when it’s going to betray him by becoming a target for another man’s rage. Adam has blacked out and seen his body taken over by that same rage before. He thinks, deep down, he is infected with it. It’s a disease he carries in his DNA, so of course the day would come when something evil unlocks that sickness and brings it to full effect. Of course the monster would use his body, him.

It takes a gentle reminder from a woman who saw inside him like no one else ever could, that you are not the demon. You can take control of your actions. You get to choose what you become, this is not your destiny.

The heartbreaking thing is how Adam was so quick to accept this was his destiny, without his usual problem solving analysis, without dissecting the causes and potential outcomes and other angles, without ever separating himself from the problem at hand and thinking, I can resolve this. He just assumes this is a thing he can’t control. But as soon as Persephone says it, as soon as he does choose control, realises that being a monster does not have to be inevitable, the demon loses its grip on him. And what a revelatory moment that must have been for Adam Parrish. To understand that even with his darkness, his infected, ugly genes, he has the power to choose to be something else.

And then he goes, fearless in this power, to see his parents and tell them he is no longer theirs. He can ask for some kind of association with them because he no longer is them. He can look his father in the eye and tell him he’s wrong because he’s no longer afraid he’ll see himself looking back.

God that whole arc is so powerful that when I think about it sometimes I stop breathing. The power in Adam Parrish is awesome - the dictionary definition kind of awesome: inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverential respect, mixed with wonder or fear.

Adam fucking Parrish, man.