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biillys · 5 months

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yo the idea of billy throwing basketball games simply becos fuck jason carver uhh this got long oops

like. okay. so billy and eddie are outside at a party one night, it's cold as fuck, it's winter, the party's raging inside, but billy's like yeah fuck that. lets go smoke up outside. and drags eddie out there, pulling up some pool lounge chairs to lay on while they talk about nothing and everything.

then like. the back door swinging open and chrissy and jason stumbling out, chrissy looking on the verge of tears and jason looking like jason always does. so fucking cool calm and collected, talking so placating down on chrissy like she's the one being unreasonable.

chrissy not even trying to talk back because what's the point. it's never got her anywhere.

and jason gets so frustrated by her lack of answers, the way she won't even look at him, the way she keeps fucking crying, like he's the bad guy, that he grabs her by the arm, maybe shakes her a little. tries to get her to realise she's being dramatic, the she's the problem here.

eddie and billy watching on from their front row seats, both of them having seen this story played out before so many times, from when they were so so young. and chrissy's so fucking good, okay. eddie, who doesn't even fuck with this crowd, knows this. has had the fattest fucking heart eyes for her since middle school. and billy's just like. chrissy cunningham is like. fucking sunshine. who the fuck would ever want to hurt the thing that lights up the room, lights up the entire fucking world.

chrissy asks jason to let go. jason grips her tighter. eddie edges slowly off his seat, and billy throws his joint to the ground and sits up.

"yo, carver. she asked you to let go."

jason and chrissy turning to them instantly, finally realising that they're there.

jason lets go like he's been burned. chrissy hugs herself close.

"come on, chrissy. let's go back inside," he says, eyeing the town fucking freak and their high schools ex basketball captain–forcefully demoted after too many fuck ups and detentions–before reaching over to grab her hand, trying to pull her in.

chrissy twists her hand out of his grip and takes a step back, and billy finally pushes out of his chair, him and eddie coming up to stand behind her.

"or," billy starts, "you go inside, and us three will stay right here."

jason looks at them all, chrissy looking so small between them, and watches as she slowly takes another step back, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with the boys.

he laughs, feeling fucking insane. jesus christ, he's given chrissy the world, the last few years of his life, his entire fucking future, and she's out here crying and running into billy hargrove and eddie munson's arms, like they could do anything for her.

"you made the wrong choice tonight, chrissy, and you know it. i'll pick you up for school on monday, and we'll talk about it," he parts with, eyeing the guys one last time before walking back inside.

chrissy letting out the breath she was holding the second the door closes before turning around to face the two people behind her.

"thank you," she croaks out, and before she can even try and leave, eddie's offering her a seat.

"it's okay. there's only two chairs, and i should start walking home anyway."

"two chairs, three of us–the math adds up," billy counts on fingers, pushing eddie down onto one of the lounges before jamming himself beside him, eddies arm wrapping around his waist automatically and billy squirming around to get comfortable. eddie looks up to her then, face apologetic, then rolls a hand out to wave at the now free seat beside them.

chrissy looks at them, the house, the side gate, the chair, then back at them. cautiously, she basically tip toes to the chair before slowly sitting down then curling up, dragging the towel that billy was using as a blanket over her.

"by the way, there is not a chance you are walking home. have you seen this fuck up town? people like your boyfriend exist, okay. fuck that. if you don't want me or munson here to drive you, then i'm calling in heather, okay?"

"heather will eat her alive," eddie cuts in, sounding alarmed.

billy elbows him, "heather waters plants. she knows how to be delicate when the situation calls for it."

eddie looks at chrissy then, at the way her hands are still shaking and her eyes are still glassy, and thinks, yeah. this is a delicate situation.

okay then the idea of chrissy and jason not breaking up because nothings ever that simple, but sometimes when eddie passes her in the halls, she smiles at him, even says hi to him occasionally. sits next to him in class once when their teacher said to hell with the seating arrangement, and eddie has a slight breakdown and bails halfway through class to go smoke up behind the school. and sometimes at cheer practice, when the guys also have basketball practice, billy gets benched (on purpose) and comes over to hang out. maybe even tries to learn a few cheers before reallsing his legs can not and will not ever bend that way, no matter how many times chrissy and carol try to show him.

and maybe one day, things really fucking spiral, and chrissy doesn't know what to do. doesn't have a single person to turn to or call for help or cry to. looks down at the positive pregnancy test in her hands and has flashbacks to the night she's tried so hard to forget, to block out, the night she never fucking wanted, and thinks. her entire life's over.

her mom will kill her, jason will lose his fucking mind, her family will probably disown her, she'll be kicked off the cheer squad, will probably have to drop out of school, and she can't even get rid of it because she doesn't know how.

doesn't have her own car to get there, doesn't have money saved up to pay for it, doesn't have private access to internet that her mom or the school doesn't monitor. and going anywhere local to even try find those answers is out of the question, with this town being so small and her mother knowing everyone, and everyone knowing her.

so. she goes through the motions and she gets ready for school, sits at the table as the rest of her family eats breakfast, and waits for jason to come pick her up. she sits passenger seat while he lets his christian playlist float out through the speakers, barely listening to a word he says as her tells her his plans for the day.

she makes it through first period then second then third, makes it all the way to lunch before she can't keep her stomach in control anymore and runs to the bathroom to throw up. she sits on the ground for a while before pushing herself up, and then in a moment of reckless bravery, she doesn't go to her second last class, but instead, she walks out the back of school, to where she's heard the rumours of eddie munson doing business, and thinks. she's really got nothing left to lose.

except when she turns up, it's not just eddie. it's eddie, and it's billy, and it's tommy hagen and carol perkins, and all four of them are smoking and laughing and looking like they don't have a worry in the world.

she looks at them and feels every bit of composure she had slipping, her eyes instantly wet.

billy spots her first, but eddies by her side in a second flat.

"are you okay? are you hurt? what happened?" eddie word vomits, his hands coming up to her face like he wants to touch her but holds back at last minute.

"did jason do something? 'cause i will fucking kill him. just say the word," billy looks around behind her, like jason's about to pop out, but when nothing happens, he focuses back on her.

she stands there a moment longer before shaking her head, then nodding, then cries harder.

"okay, well, this seems personal,"'carol states, dragging tommy by his hand and walking past them, "so i'm gonna let you guys sort out the damsel in distress, and me and tommy are gonna go fuck around under the bleachers. unless," she stops, pushing her way in front of billy slightly, "you want me to stay, and all the guys to go. 'cause if i say the word, they'll all leave. promise."

chrissy looks at her and thinks maybe, out of everyone, carol could be the best choice. surely the most sensible and most obvious. but for as much as she likes her and knows her, for some reason, she trusts eddie and billy more.

"i'm okay. you can go with tommy," she says softly, trying to smile lightly.

carol nods at her, then glares at the guys. "i find out you made her cry more, i'll kill you both."

"yes, ma'am."

"yes, boss."

okay then the idea of chrissy finally getting herself together enough to finally stumble her way into asking for a ride to planned parenthood, or even just to borrow one of their phones so she can research the information herself.

billy and eddie joining every dot together straight away and both being like. oh. we're gonna kill that mothefucker.

eddie being like you can have my phone, you can have my wallet, my car keys, my entire fucking heart. i'll give you the world, just ask.

and billy being like. jesus fucking christ. can you pretend to be like. smooth and casual for five seconds, she's literally having one of the worst days of her life.

billy and eddie spending the rest of school hours researching everything for her and eddie literally handing her all the cash she needs plus more, and billy calling to book the appointment for her, making sure it's a few towns over because he's not stupid, and them all figuring out a game plan to skip school that day. eddie has it the easiest, billy's got some wiggle room 'cause he's already a fuck up in his dad's eyes, so what's one more thing, but chrissy's like. terrified. but then she thinks about being pregnant and having an actual baby at the age of seventeen, who's father would be jason carver, and thinks. she can be brave for one day.

okay and then that happens, and it's emotional as fuck, and they all get super close etc

and then finally. the basketball aspect of this.

the idea of jason like. counting on basketball to get into college, like he's got his future mapped out, and basketball is apart of it. and billy's like. well obviously i'm gonna ruin this guy's whole fucking life.

like billy was captain, back when he first rolled into town, when harrington fell from grace, and he hated every second of it. fuck this town, fuck these people, fuck his dad, billy didn't want to play. so he fucked around, he read the school rules, he figured out what the lines were to get kicked off, and he toed them every day. but he was good enough that when he decided to put effort in, the team won. so coach never completely got rid of him. just stripped him of his captaincy and benched him a lot. and that was the way billy liked it.

but then billy's like. well jason's captain now, and all eyes are on him, scouts included. fuck yeah.

then the idea of like. billy putting effort into games again, bringing the team together seamlessly in a way jason never could, only to purposely throw games, occasionally getting all up in some other team members space and literally muttering to them their strategy, before taking the ball then passing it to patrick, completely ignoring jason who was open, then letting tommy take over.

the idea of billy literally sinking a basket for the other team when they were tied at the last minute, before turning around to high five the opposite team then flip the bird at his captain.

the idea of their coach like tearing his fucking hair out and dragging billy into a private meeting like what the fuck are you doing out there, hargrove? and billy being like. make me captain again and i'll stop riding the other teams dicks. and the coach being like. not a chance. and billy being like. it's either that or bench me, and you know i'm too good to bench. and coach being like. co-captain. i can make you co-captain. and that's it. and you need to start being a team player for this team. and billy's like. i'm on it, coach! [salute]

the idea of billy being the smuggest motherfucker alive, jason having to stand beside him as his equal, looking like it physically pains him.

the idea of like. a super important game happening, maybe they made it to the grand finales? idk basketball. either way, everyones like. surely billy won't throw this game. this game's important. it's crucial. there are college scouts. and billys like. i'm gonna let everyone shine that i deem worthy of shining, i'm gonna make sure tommy gets the ball, i'm gonna let patrick fucking blitz this shit, and then. right at the last moment possible. i'm gonna ruin it.

and the idea of jason like. losing his shit, like barging his way over to billy who's in the middle of literally hugging a guy from the other team, and billy turning to him with the smuggest look on his face like. so proud. and before jason can even throw a punch, billy's got him knocked down to the ground, jaw fucking cracked, and then billy's offering him a hand up, whispers 'have fun at college', before shoving him straight back down to the ground and stepping over him, walking away.

and like. ofcourse chrissy and eddie get together, and billy eddie and tommy form a band becos i said so, and chrissy has a bisexual awakening when she finally does meet heather, and they all stay the best of friends for ever and ever, and they never rly have to deal with jason ever again.

#uh tw for abuse and rape which isnt like. in it. but its alluded to.#anyway in my mind it is like eddie/chrissy but also i can 100% see the billy/eddie/chrissy which i'm 100% open to like hell yeah #also please know. idk shit about basketball or american schools/colleges and i do not give a fuck. this is fiction and i love drama <3 #anyway! more eddie billy tommy PLEASE #nqff #m #text #hellcheer #mungrove #kinda?

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artsycloudysleepy · 4 months

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posted a UTMV fic on AO3!! :D

(first time ever sharing, pls be nice; i am very sensitive to criticism and am going through a writing block rn! but if anyone has tips for using ao3 lmk! ty)

[edit: my link seems to be weird in some situations, and on a phone linked me to someone else's fanfic? so make sure the fic is titled 'Bleh' and is by me before you assume it's the correct one. sorry]

tumblr version below cut! TW for autophobia, implied/referenced abuse, minor hallucinations (not harmful).

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“…nt that he comes to us.”

Cross slowly stirs awake.

“mm. gonna ‘afta talk ‘bout this ‘n therapy.”

That’s Horr-Horr. He’s nice.

“yup. ain't healthy fer him. and ya've seen how little he- oh. he's awake.”

Dusty. He’s also nice. He sounds surprised.

“stars, we wake him up? whoops.”

“heh. g'mornin’, cross.”

Cross mumbles incoherently in response, curling into a ball under the warm covers. He feels so fuzzy. Really light-headed, come to think of it.

“’s ‘e overheatin’?”

“probs.” Dust’s hand, likely, presses against Cross’ forehead.

It’s so cold. He whines in a broken, hoarse voice, and there’s a coo as the hand trails to his neck and collarbone. Cross buries his head quickly into it as he squirms uncomfortably.

“spiking.”

“oh stars. get ‘im outta there.”

Cross gasps as the hand slides to the nape of his neck and another under his pelvis, kicking weakly and sorely croaking out a complaint whilst he’s lifted out from under the warmth of the covers.

Are they abandoning him? That's what it feels like.

He'll be left alone again.

To rot.

To-

“shh… shh… it‘s okay.” Dust’s soothing, and Cross realises quite how sweaty he feels. He cries a little, hoarse sobs wracking his body in tiny shakes. “get the boss already.”

There’s quick footsteps, then silence. All that breaks it is Cross’ broken cries, and Dust’s occasional murmurs of reassurances that fleet quickly from Cross’ muddled, distressed mind.

Then, there’s underwater footsteps, Cross beginning to see stingrays and shoals of fish swimming in the water in his vision. Some movement, then freezing fabric underneath his palms and spine and skull and feet makes him flail weakly.

“-icine. Ideally something to combat hallucinations.”

“on it!”

There’s a shift of magic that Cross feels overstimulated by, but before it registers fully, there’s a sudden shockwave of calm that resounds in his bones, louder than his fears but quieter than the magic previously.

He weakly looks up. Nightmare is sat by him, in his bed. Cross takes a moment to realise he’s lying down, whereas Nightmare is sitting, and he can’t be lazing-

“-Cross, chiquito, you’re not lazy.” the Guardian cuts his rambling mouth off with a gentle hush. “You’re just emotional and tired, and far too delirious for you to realise what you’re saying.”

Sobs stopping almost instantly, Cross goes quiet, staring up at his dad. He thinks he keeps that thought quiet, too. Maybe.

Above, Nightmare smiles gently, forgivingly, at him. “Hello, little one. Son. Do you think you’re a bit confused?”

Cross nods, wet eyes getting wetter as they slowly blink for a little longer. He feels so disoriented, and so scared, but so sleepy, as if a gentle weight is tied around his waist. It doesn’t hurt; it like he’s sinking into the bed, and the mattress is moving and rising as he slowly descends into it, genuinely wrapping around him and making Nightmare smaller and smaller.

That's right.

He won't abandon him.

He's safe.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” the Guardian quietly murmurs, lower and softer with every moment of groggy lull Cross endures, and stroking his skull with a phalange or eleven. “You’re hallucinating very vividly. Like you’re already asleep, despite your best efforts to stay aware. I would feel more happy if you just let your eyes close as that happens.”

Cross find himself failing to complain when a tentacle drapes over his forehead, instead relaxing into the drowsy, dizzy feeling overcoming him. Still, he’s trying to watch the others and what they do, ensure he’ll be safe, but he’s so tired…

His eyes are barely able to crack open to watch Horror and Dust and Nightmare and focus on what they're fidgeting with or whispering or doing in general, so it takes him a few moments to realise with what little he can see that Killer isn't there. Has he gone to get something (he probably hasn't abandoned him, right)? Wait, did Nightmare mention medicine..?

His memories are too muffled to tell. Like his delirium has a muzzle on it. Like the pretty cyan ribbons of magic sparkling in his fading peripheral are glittering and distracting his gliding thoughts. It's oddly soothing, though a part of him is still on edge, as always.

That'll never change.

[Sp.] “Cross, dear, sweetheart,” Nightmare murmurs lovingly, drawing his wandering attention back to him with a lilt of his voice and a guiding phalange against his chin tilting his eyes back to his glowing, soothing one, “no one minds you having a nap. It will take, what, ten minutes? Not too long with those pretty eyes closed to the sparkling sky. The white moon’s orbit, the white Sun’s rigidity, the lilac and pink and white and black planets encircling you over and over as the stars start to drizzle down.”

As ever, Cross is obedient. His eyes close on instinct, disgusting code telling him obeying is right. XGaster always-

"Dear, he isn't here. Don't you fret so much, okay?"

And just like that, the anxiety melts away.

"Hm... That's more like it. We'll work on that when you're feeling a little more perky, okay?"

The voice almost has a parental tone. But it's not like his creator's. It's not disappointed or dangerous, like he'll hit him if he's imperfect. It's calming, authoritative in a way that's soothing to his frayed nerves and worried edges because he knows how to act. He knows how to respond to orders and superiors. And this time, he won't be hurt no matter how badly he screws it up.

"You can stand down, soldier."

But he still wants to be useful. If someone abandons him again, he... He doesn't know if he'll be found again.

He won't ever be happy like this again.

"Sleep, Cross."

Cross weakly tries to hold on, digs – curls – twitches, maybe, his phalanges, but the stars are calling to him sleepily. His name, his identity, kind hands and warmth gently guiding him back to the starlit sky, the homely galaxy, the colours that are so natural to him that don’t blare in his face like sirens every time he’s introduced a new tint and shade and tone. And the stars twinkle hypnotically, inviting him to drown in them, not to think of anything but their beauty.

The hands are warm, careful, freeing him of weight and responsibility as quiet commands to release coax his own to instead weakly hold them. He’s mesmerised, numb and tingly and soothed while the voices and the stars lilt onto him lowly.

“Don’t you resist it, dear,” the most prominent star whispers in low, lulling Spanish. “it’s a waste of energy. You just rest for now. It doesn’t matter what you thought you wanted, all that matters is that you need to have this rest. Never mind any chaos outside, you just focus on counting all these stars. You focus on losing yourself here, forgetting what you felt like you wanted to do, like working and fighting and ignoring your fever for days and days, and instead just realising how nice it feels to give in and up.”

For ten minutes.

For ten hours.

It’s all the same anyway.

And as the world he was previously tethered to by a heavy and cutting rope drops from him, and leaves him blissfully carefree in the void of absence, he doesn’t particularly mind. The slow breaths probably mean nothing, seeing as his previous discomfort is absent like his reality. His thoughts are free-flowing, like ink from a pot that spilled over.

Maybe that means he’s free, for the while.

#utmv #undertale #cross sans #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fic #ao3 fic #artsy's writing #artsy's post #can you guess who my fav sans is?#cross is 100% transmasc and autistic i just. uh. didn't mention it here #weird bc i always do in literally every other fic i've made? so uh sorry #tw: implied/referenced abuse #tw: autophobia

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