#they’re all ok with punching grown adults into the ground and kicking them while they’re down don’t sugarcoat it

[anguilliforme]

“Jason Todd is the violent robin” “Dick Grayson is the violent robin” discourse is insane. Every batkid is willingly out on the streets at 2am beating the shit out of people at age thirteen. They’re ALL the violent robin.

[gaysimpsstuff]

Fatgum As a Dad

This was inspired by a conversation I had on a discord server, we all have daddy issues and want Fatgum to adopt us so here’s all the shit we collected.

There are some serious themes in here, mostly regarding the biological parents of the kid, but it’s vague as possible. If anyone wants me to add a trigger warning please let me know.

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It all started when he was a kid, when he learned what an orphanage was. One of the kids in his class mentioned being from one, so when he got home he asked his parents about it. 

“Mom, what’s an orphanage?”

“Well, Taishiro, it’s where children that don’t have parents go. Then people can come and adopt the children. Why do you ask.”

“A kid at school said he’s from one, when d’you think he’s gonna get adopted?”

“He might, not all children get adopted. Some of them stay in the orphanage until they’re adults.”

“BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!” he shouted. “EVERYONE DESERVES A HAPPY CHILDHOOD!”

“Well, honey, life’s not fair. And not everyone gets a happy life. It’s how most villains are made, actually. They were hurt more than everyone else and couldn’t handle it anymore. Not all villains are like that but many are. I think you should stay away from that kid, Taishiro. He might turn out a villain.”

But he didn’t stay away. And he made it his mission to become a pro hero so he could make a ton of money and help as many people as he could. He’d help even villains, keep them from doing something dangerous and inspire hope in them.

Then, he’d adopt any kid who needed a father. All the orphanages and foster programs would be empty. Homeless children off the street and in his house, being fed and clothed. He’d care for each and every one of them, not wanting a single person to feel like they didn’t belong. 

He finds most of his kids at pride parades. He walks around with a shirt that says ‘FREE DAD HUGS’ and a box full of candy. He remembered one of the kids walking up to him slowly.

“Um.. are you Fatgum?” 

“Yes I am!”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Yes you can, Kiddo!” he got down, and the kid put his arms on his stomach (Fatgum’s too big for anyone to fully hug, the dude’s taller than Allmight!) he wrapped his arms around the kid before he heard sniffles. He looked down and saw that the kid was crying.

“M-my parents never hug me like this!” they exclaimed. “They haven’t since I came out. They want to kick me out when I turn thirteen!” 

“Can I have their number? I’m going to... talk to them.”

He ended up taking the kid’s family to court, and since the parents were going to just kick the kid out anyways, they let Fatgum adopt them, but they kept nagging him about how he was ‘going to be raising a little demon.’

“Then call me Lucifer.” he spat right back. Now, that kid’s grown up, has pride flags all around their walls, and doesn’t ever doubt that they’re loved.

Fatgum probably bakes with his kids. Helping them up onto the counter to mix ingredients and play with the dough. If they mess something up or break a glass, it’s fine. He doesn’t yell at them or sigh and shake his head, he just kissed the kid on the forehead and helps them clean up the mess. 

The food always turns out amazing, and Fatgum always tells the kids that. All of his kids are now Gordon Ramsay level chefs and have probably met Gordon Ramsay. 

No matter what their body type is, Fatgum tells his kids their handsome/beautiful and are model worthy. If anyone comments of one of his kid’s body, whether it be negative or... ‘positive’ in a creepy way, you can expect that they’re getting slammed into the ground. No questions asked.

One of Fatgum’s kids is really good at make-up. Like, really good. So Fatgum did the only thing a rational father would do. 

Ask for a make-up job.

It didn’t end all that well...

“Hold still.. I gotta get the eyeliner on.”

“Gosh, Kiddo it’s making my eyes water.” 

“I know, just hold still... aaaand...... done! Now don’t touch it or it’ll smear!”

“Wow, that looks great! You’re really good at this!”

“Thanks, dad- you smeared it already didn’t you?”

“....Nope.”

Fatgum: I'm not gonna do it, it just seemed like a good option. 

Fatgum not even two seconds later after seeing a trans kid crying: now carrying said child on his shoulders while his spouse is chuckling in a corner after signing adoption papers I did it.

This man would get his kids almost anything they wanted. Especially kids with ADD/ADHD/Autism/Tourettes/Anxiety who need stim toys.

Kid: chewing on their nails.

Fatgum: here take this stim toy, and this one, you chew this one so that might help-

Kid ends up with more stim toys than they can count.

Fatgum: just doing his job 

The Daddy Issues Gang: Hi dad- oh shit wait- Hi- I- fuck- trauma ensues. crying

Fatgum: grabs the daddy issues gang we're going to the nearest courtroom say hello to your new father its me im the father ok lets go.

Kid: um, dad can I talk to you? 

 Fatgum, turning around quickly: yes? 

 Me: ‘he moved so quick, he's mad at me, I'm gonna get yelled at’ Sorry, sorry! 

Fatgum: uh, no. I'm getting you ice cream and a new stuffed animal no questions asked

He'd just know when something's wrong, and he’d be great at comforting.

His usual style of comfort is to let the kid sit on his stomach and tell him what’s wrong. His body is one giant pillow for his kids to lay on, he can fit at least eight of them if they cuddle in closely.

Once filmed a commercial dressed as the Cool-Aid man, and all of his kids were in the commercial.

Fatgum: Busts down wall  “OH YEAH!”

Director: “And CUT! Okay, try a little more aggressive-”

Fatgum, in tears: “I don’t wanna scare my kids.”

As stated before, if anyone makes his kids feel bad he’s punching them to the ground, but sometimes he’s not in a position where he can do that. Like if a Karen mom ever comes over.

"Linda stop bringing lemon squares if you're going to talk about my son that way because they're just as sour as your attitude."

Fatgum but he slaps the toxic members of your family and tells them to do better or he's taking you.

Then takes you anyway because you prefer him.

Fatgum with a sweater that says ‘mr dad guy on it’

Fatgum definitely watches ATLA, and quotes Uncle Iroh daily. When his kids are minding their own business they suddenly hear

“Leaves from the vine... falling so slow...” 

INAUDIBLE CHAOS AND PANIC

Fatgum agency cosplayed ATLA characters on Halloween.

Fatgum was Iroh.

Kirishima was Sokka.

Tamaki was either Momo or Appa.

Maybe get a couple others in on it too, Mirio could be Aang and if Kirishima convinces Todoroki to join for a while he’d totally be Zuko.

Fatgum lets his kids squish his face.

Fatgum used to work with a hero who was hard of hearing, so he learned sign language to help them, and he’s got the skill saved in case one of his kids might be deaf.

So one day, Kirishima invites Bakugou on patrol with him, and we all love that headcanon of Bakugou going deaf, so when he gets pissed at something, he starts insulting everyone around him in SL.

Fatgum notices and starts signing back to him.

YOU’RE ALL MOTHERFUCKERS AND I HATE YOU ALL!

Hey, now, let’s calm down and not call everyone motherfuckers.

FUCK YOU TOO

Bakugou...

Everyone thinks that they’re doing magic, because they’re making all these shapes with their hands and keep looking offended at each other.

Now, Fatgum tries his gosh darn hardest to keep up with the memes, so when his kids come home with good grades, he says “That’s so pog, Kiddo!”

All of his kids are embarrassed.

In the middle of a battle, he throws Kirishima at a villain and they both scream “YEET!” the villain afterwords forever lives in fear of the word ‘yeet’ because he thinks it’ll result in a human rock being thrown at his face.

Fatgum can’t text very well, because his fingers are just too damn big-

sonhsisntextsblooklikehthis'

Translation: so his texts look like this

you learn to understand his texts

Someone better get him a large tablet instead of a phone

If he gets married after he adopts the kids, there’s going to be a huge competition over who does the rings and who does the flowers etc.

If any of his kid’s ever bring home a romantic partner, you can bet your ass he’ll be all over them.

“What’s your average grade?”

“E-eighty percent sir!”

“And do you take sports?”

“No sir, I wish to be a biologist.”

“I see, I see...”

“DAD, YOU AREN”T INTERVIEWING MY PARTNER, ARE YOU? YOU SCARED OFF THE LAST THREE I DON’T WANNA DEAL WITH THAT AGAIN!”

“SORRY, KIDDO! I’LL LET THEM GO NOW! I’ve got my fucking eyes on you. Don’t screw this up.”

Hope y’all enjoy this, if y’all want I can write some headcanons for if Fatgum’s kid becomes a villain-

[holographic-feminism-blog]

Why you cannot be “pro life” and be a feminist

(TW: mentions of rape, abuse, gore, death and objectification may be mentioned)

Hey, you may yourself be “pro life” and have been sent this because you're a brick wall and/or this person does not have time for you or you could be an actual person with common sense and be pro choice who just wants to help grow your knowledge and understanding of the feminist movement and your debating skills. Ether way welcome, glad to have you.

I think we should disprove some idiotic points “pro life” feminists like to bring up:

“I’m fine with other women getting abortions, i just think its wrong”

*collective eye roll from all pro choicers* Alright there are two reasons i put this point first.

1. because i feel like you wouldn't even read up to this point if it weren't the first point because you're actively too lazy to read up on literally anything and 2. because i myself have had this point so much i lost count. Ill get to why abortion isn't wrong in a bit but just to say YOU’RE NOT “PRO LIFE” YOU’RE PRO CHOICE!!! The reason i said “you're actively too lazy to read up on literally anything” is because the literal definition of pro choice is

pro-choice

prəʊˈtʃɔɪs/

adjective advocating the legal right of a woman  to choose whether or not she will have an abortion.

That literally describes exactly what bs has just drivelled out your damn mouth. You're ok with a person having the choice. You seriously go and say you're pro life when you don't even know what it means. For gods sake the safari app is right there, you couldn't look something up before you embarrass yourself on the internet?

But anyway you're pro choice, pro choice means you're ok with others having the choice even if you wouldn't. Have a nice day.

“Most abortions are gender based, meaning more girls get aborted because they're girls”

Sorry but you need to get your priorities straight, there are so many things wrong with what you just said. First off, transphobia much? Second, I along with anyone with morals would place a fully grown pregnant person with responsibilities, relationships and memories over that of something that is about as alive as a blade of grass that has a vagina. Do you think that a person with a uterus is lesser than something that is barely alive? yeah......... yeah thats why you're not a feminist.

But anyway i don't think you know what gender based abortions really happen for. 99% of the time gender based abortions are in places where the parents are desperate for a boy and cannot have more than one or two children. Places such as china with its one child policy. The parents want to continue the family last name and also continue the businesses (because businesses are usually passed down from father to son). China is flooded with parentless girls already because so many parents abandon them because they wanted a boy, we don't need to add that.

Im in no way ok with gender based abortions but because these people are so desperate to have a boy if abortion became illegal in counties like these violence against women and death of women via massive blood loss with increase rapidly due to coat hanger abortions and husbands hitting their wives in hope to kill the foetus. It’s ether you're ok with violence and horrific torture of millions of people world wide or you're gonna let people have abortions when they need ones.

Hey heres an idea, instead of taking away a right to abortion from women, why don't you do what most feminists who aren't lazy do and try to get rid of the patriarchal idealistic surrounding gender based abortions. Thats actually useful and helps us get to equality, while being anti abortion stops that.

“Some abortions harm women!!!”

According the the NHS (the uk healthcare service) 1 in 1000 legal and medical abortions cause damage to the uterus in abortions carried out between 12-24 weeks. Most of these damages are mild infections that can be treated with antibiotics. 

Id also like to remind you that illegal abortions cause wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy more damage to someones uterus than a safe and legal one. So your argument is kinda stupid. Like “some women are hurt by legal abortions so lets make it illegal and have EVERY woman be hurt but abortions! I'm fighting for women rights here guys trust me.” Birth is much more dangerous than abortion as well.

Also.... if you're talking about emotional harm...95% of people don't regret their abortion.

“Its against my religion”

Your religion applies to you, not others. NEXT.

“It doesn't say anywhere that I have to be pro choice to be a feminist”

I’m sorry do you have anything in that thick skull of yours?

feminismˈfɛmɪnɪz(ə)m/

noun

the advocacy of women's rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes.

Newsflash, you can’t advocate for equality when you see women as incubators. Also, yes you do see women as incubators. You think that if a person gets pregnant and doesn't want it or finds out that it is horrifically deformed or already dead that they should  keep it and have it. You’re kidding me right? That is the most misogynistic and sexist thing I have ever heard and its is 100% what you're ok with.

Let me tell you what you're also ok with that is completely anti feminist:

1. Child abuse

I will get into that next

2. Back ally/coat hanger abortions

You're pro people getting hurt via illegal abortions. You're ok with people killing themselves via mass blood loss all because you're selfish enough ignore their desperation. Have you read the stories of illegal abortions before it was legal? They're horrific. You're no feminist if you're ok with pregnant people killing themselves because a right was taken away from them.

3. Rape

No one consents to rape. Its kinda like someone stabs someone else and you tell the person who was stabbed “Don't go to the hospital! You'll be fine! You can handle it.” No one should be forced to continue a pregnancy if they didn't consent to becoming pregnant. you're no feminist if you think people should suffer like that and drag their trauma out. You're punishing people for being raped. Thats worse than victim blaming. Sick.

4. Self harm

People throw themselves down the stairs, punch themselves and even starve themselves to kill the foetus. Why should they be subjected to that when they could have a safe one? You're evil if you think people should be hurt for accidentally getting themselves pregnant then you're no feminist.

5. Poverty

Do you know how much a child costs? $14,000 per year. If you're working a minimum wage job which pays $15,080 per year, thats not good news for you. The fact you’re fine with single mothers or fathers struggling to feed themselves all because of a mistake they made once is NOT ok in any way.

6. People loosing their right to education

You're ok with people missing valuable education time because they need to look after their child and/or give birth? Resulting in them severely denting their life which links to argument 5. ...You’re getting what i mean now right?

7. CHILDREN.BEING.TRAUMATISED.AND.HURT

A 12 year old being forced to have a child isn't ok sorry. There is no way you're in the right for saying they should. Their body isn't built to have a child yet so they're more likely to die or be in immense pain. The labour will be way way way longer than an adults. If you think a child should be put through that, what is wrong with you? You’re so evil I cannot muster and you're the exact opposite of a feminist.

8. The objectification of women

By forcing people to go through with pregnancies you're feeding the patriarchal idea that women are here to give birth to and look after children. You're saying that women are incubators and exist to be impregnated. You're saying that women are lesser than something that doesn't know it’s alive and that she is a slave to the person who got her pregnant and the thing inside her. Thats like so unfeminist its amazing. Thanks.

“Why can’t they just give it for adoption?”

The percentage of adopted children who are abuse is 25%. 25%!!!!! Children who are adopted are also more likely to have depression and commit suicide. In fact, if you're a foster child you're 4 times more likely to commit suicide than a child with a known birth parent. Gay parents are also allowed to be refused to adopt my some agencies, where are you yelling about that? Why are you telling people not to abort when you should be protesting this abuse and homophobia? You're telling me you'd rather see a child suffer and have their whole life messed up than just let a person have an abortion? You're sick.

“Im only ok with it if it’s rape”

So a person has to have their body violated for them to get the rights to it? Consent to sex is NOT consent to pregnancy. Condom effectiveness have gone down to 85%. Its kinda like saying that you're only ok with STD medication if it was due to rape. You can consent to sex but not being infected, so its not their fault. So thats the same with being pregnant.

“I think people should take responsibility for their actions”

Well, they are. Aborting the foetus is taking responsibility for their action. And its rather anti feminist of you to think people should be punished for life because of a mistake.

“Its my choice to be pro life and feminism gives you the right to chose what you believe”

That sentence was a direct contradiction to what you believe. Feminism gives you the right to choose yes but who are you to feel that you can take away that same right to choose to other women. Are you that entitled that you think your choice to be “pro life” is greater than other peoples right to a choice? 

Your choice to be pro life is also not feminist at all. Kinda like me saying I'm pro lgbt but then kicking my child out if they're gay.  People choose to be racist, people choose to be homophobes. Your choice is your choice yes but everyone has a right to tell you why that choice is wrong.

“But babies are cute!”

...okay...? First off, that shit isn’t a baby. It’s a cluster of cells or a foetus. Second, what does that matter? Something being cute doesn’t put it on some kinda pedestal. I like boa constrictors are cute, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t shoot one in the face if it was trying to constrict my friend.

A thing being cute doesn’t make it more important. In fact it’s very ignorant of you to say that something being cute puts it above others.

You're not a feminist. Just say you hate people with uteruses and go

[cryingbilldenbrough]

*kicks down your door* Prompt: Bill gets hit on by people who are not the Losers club. At first he's like ha ha funny joke, until it's not that funny anymore bc the people that tend to like Bill Denbrough, that are draw in by his charismatic aura, are always a little too zealous, take it a little too seriously & Bill is like ok. Stop this now. He's literally hand picked by the cosmic forces of Good, thats bound to attract a lot of parasitic personalities. Basically, love spell gone wrong trope.

FUCK! why u do this to me!

(send me prompts/headcanons!)

ok so yeah you’re right, bill thinks it’s funny the first few times. he’s used to being looked up to, from the way georgie spills adoration from his pores every time bill so much as ruffles his hair to the way eddie kaspbrak, eight years old and smaller than the rest of the boys in their grade, very seriously tells bill he would jump off a bridge if bill asked him to, front tooth missing. 

little richie tozier won’t look bill directly in the eyes the first time they meet, stares down at his battered converse the whole time he asks if he can go swimming with bill and eddie and stan in the quarry after school. bill assumes the kid is naturally shy until he hears the way richie rips stan a new one over the way he folds his clothes before jumping in and richie spends the afternoon trying desperately to dunk eddie and get his hair wet. 

but bill turns fifteen and wonders when hesitant admiration and brotherly love turned into whispers behind hands and eyes that track him as he walks down the hallway. 

he bends over to drop his books in his locker, sliding his english textbook in next to a copy of Catcher In The Rye that Richie lent him last week, and when he straightens there’s a senior girl leaning on the locker next to his. her bubblegum smells like strawberry and she leans forward into bill’s personal space, snapping her mouth and narrowing her eyes at his hesitance. 

“you got a date for prom, debrough?” she asks and bill shakes his head nervously. he wonders how she knows his name. 

“i-i’m only a s-s-sophomore” bill replies, eyes darting down the hallway in search of a familiar face. eddie should be getting out of chemistry any minute and rounding the corner and bill hopes desperately he didn’t get sidetracked by richie or stan.

“i’ll get you in,” she says in reply and before bill can open his mouth to respond she’s sticking a note in the front pocket of his shirt and popping her gum. “you can pick me up at eight. my dress is pink,”

bill’s mom’s eyes light up when he goes home and tells her about his date, asking tentatively if she’ll take him shopping for a suit. she pinches his cheeks and marvels at how grown-up he is and her attention is enough to make bill forget about the way the girl’s narrowed eyes had made bill feel like a cornered animal. 

the note in his pocket feels like lead and when he unfolds it, it has the senior’s telephone number written in glittery pen. she’s kissed the paper too, waxy and shiny with lipgloss that smells so strongly of mango it makes bill feel sick. he drops the note on the top of his dresser and instead of excitement, anxiety swirls in his stomach all night. 

richie finds the entire situation hilarious when bill tells the gang at lunch the next day, begging bill to tell him all about the night when he gets back. in fact, the whole group seems to find it a lot funnier than bill does, joking about bill getting drunk off punch at the dance and going to some upperclassmen party afterwards to “get in her pants, bill! well, dress”

“shut up, richie,” eddie says and bill thinks he has a friend on his side who finds the whole situation as wrong as he does but then eddie turns to him and offers to help bill pick out a corsage for her. 

the night of prom, bill gets ready alone. his mom leaves his suit hanging on the back of his bedroom door and he stares at it for half an hour, trying to psych himself up enough to try it on. his mom found a pink bowtie, pale and already tied, and hung it over the hanger and the color reminds him of the girl’s bubblegum. 

bill takes a shower, letting hot steam fill the bathroom, and then gets dressed with the door closed and the room still humid. his wet hair brushes the collar of the suit, staining the grey material dark, and he slicks it back. he fumbles the tie on, sweating in the heat, and he wipes the condensation away from the mirror. 

he looks like a kid playing dress up. his skin is smooth and unblemished, a blessing throughout puberty that he maintains he doesn’t deserve, and his suit is too big for his narrow shoulders.

bill knows there is no world where someone could mistake him for an adult, no way the senior girl is going to look at him and see anything but a teenager trying to be something he’s not. 

she picks him up in her car, an old beater that shudders when she goes over 35 mph, and her dress is a very different shade of pink than bill’s bowtie. her blonde hair is piled atop her head, curling around and framing her face and bill feels ridiculous with his wet hair and shiny shoes. 

“you want a smoke?” she asks, cracking open the window and lighting up a camel. bill’s only ever smoked with the losers, knees huddled to their chests as they hide in the clubhouse, and he shakes his head at her. he wonders for a moment who she gets to buy them for her and then remembers she’s probably eighteen and able to purchase them herself.

she smokes the entire way to the dance, only cracking the window enough to let a small amount of smoke drift out and by the time they’re pulling up to the school bill is lightheaded and drowsy. 

“i’ll let you in the side door,” she says, opening her door with a squealing sound and locking it behind her. bill takes a deep breath and gets out of the car, watching as she walks through the gym doors. she pauses and fishes a ticket out of her purse which she flashes at the teacher at the door. bill skirts around the edge of the gym, passing by drunken teens. he finds the side door and waits by it nervously, fingering his bowtie and sticking his hands deep in his pockets. 

“denbrough!” he hears and jerks his head up to see the senior girl waving him over. he jogs to her, careful not to trip in his new shoes, and makes his way into the dance. 

the gym is covered in streamers, some hanging limply and torn, and there’s a DJ blasting music through the PA. the girl leads bill towards her group of friends, a couple girls bill doesn’t recognize and their dates. he knows one of the boys is the captain of the baseball team and he regards bill with cool brown eyes. bill tries not to look weak, to look young.

for the most part, the dance is boring. the senior girl doesn’t make him dance with her, which bill is immensely thankful for because while stan offered to teach him ballroom moves, the rest of the kids seem to be grinding against each other in ways that make bill blush. the only turn in the evening comes when the girl nudges him, sticking a flask into his hands. 

“i stole some vodka from my dad’s stash” she whispers to him, somehow so loud over the thrum of the music. bill looks down at the flask in his hands, shining silver in the light of derry high school’s sad looking disco ball, and gives it back to her with a shake of his head. 

“i thought you were cool, denbrough,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him. she tips the bottle back and swallows a long gulp before gasping and wincing. she downs the whole thing after a quick breath, squeezing her mascara eyes shut and sticking the flask back into her purse. her cheeks look alight already, warm and alive and bill is suddenly afraid of her. 

there’s a softening behind her eyes as the alcohol takes hold, an inhibition letting loose and bill takes a step backwards as her gaze wracks over his gray suit. she takes a step towards him, slow and almost stupid, and runs a hand through his now dry hair. it makes his bangs fall over his forehead and bill feels so young and so old at the same time. 

“you gonna be cool, denbrough?” she says, slurring just a little bit, and bill panics. her breath smells like smoke and cheap alcohol and strawberry gum and her eyes have an evil in them that bill doesn’t immediately recognize from anywhere specific but it alights a flight response in him. he backs away quickly and runs straight into a solid body. he spins and looks up to see his PE teacher standing behind him and the teacher’s eyes light up with recognition. before the man can say anything, bill is darting away. 

he runs out through the front doors, past the history teacher taking tickets and past the seniors who shout rude things at his pale face. 

he considers going back to the senior girl’s car, to at least have somewhere to hide and calm down, but remembers she locked it. he doesn’t want to be anywhere near her anyway, so afraid of the infatuation in her eyes, so he runs for the road instead. his house is only a few blocks away, anyway. 

then he remembers the look on his mom’s face when he told her about the dance, and figures going home now would only disappoint her. he’s disappointed her enough. 

he finds himself turning down stan’s street. the houses look big and empty in the moonlight, windows dark and dead. the trees whisper in the wind, leftover chill from the winter that has just ended. bill wraps his arms tight around himself, wishing he thought to bring a jacket to wear over his suit, and scuffs his shoes on the ground as he turns down stan’s driveway.

the uris house is still light, homey and inviting, and bill doesn’t even ring the doorbell. the front door isn’t locked anyway, not on a night like tonight, and bill lets himself in silently. he deposits his shoes on the rug next to the door and slinks down the hall to stan’s room. 

he doesn’t knock, afraid to disturb the weird peace that is settled over stan’s home, and enters without warning. stan is asleep, curled up with his spine facing bill, and he shucks his jacket off and sets it on stan’s desk chair. he sinks down onto the floor at the foot of stan’s bed and waits for stan to wake naturally. 

“bill? is that you?” stan’s voice is rough from sleep, croaking out quietly. he sits up and bill turns to look at him. his skin is smooth, pale in the light that shines through his bedroom window, and he looks young. he looks as young as bill feels and it’s weirdly comforting. “dance didn’t go well?” stan asks, rubbing his eyes. 

bill considers lying. he’s sure he would have if stan were richie. he would have made up some story about making out with the senior girl in the back of her beater if it meant richie would laugh and call him an animal. but stan’s eyes are warm and bill feels weak and alone. 

he shakes his head, loosens his tie, and looks down at his socked feet. stan tuts his tongue and waits a beat before bill hears him slap the bed next to him. 

“well, climb up,” stan says and bill doesn’t hesitate. he untucks his shirt and takes it off, leaving him in just his undershirt. stan’s wearing a set of matching pajama pants that look incredibly soft and bill leaves his slacks on. he doesn’t care if they get wrinkled because he has no desire to ever wear them again. 

“what happened?” stan asks, voice quiet. bill tells him all about the night, about the girl basically propostitioning him drunkenly. stan doesn’t say anything for a long time. 

“should i have wanted to?” bill asks finally, turning on his side to regard stan in the darkness. stan furrows his brow and looks incredibly considering and bill loves when his friends do things seriously for him. 

“that’s up to you, bill,” stan responds and bill sighs. he snuggles further into stan’s sheets, letting his friend’s familiar scent wash over him and cleanse every memory of the girl’s strawberry gum from his nostrils.  

“i just wish people didn’t want things from me all the time,” bill says to the open air, curling his toes into stan’s sheets. stan doesn’t respond and bill turns to see him asleep already, eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. time has stolen the freckles from his nose and bill misses them, misses the way they got darker in the summer sun. 

bill falls asleep with stan’s breath blowing over his face and vows to never trust admiration ever again.