Zccming​:

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET as HARRY STYLES on SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE

@zccming

one of the best/funniest dynamics on TV is antagonistic best friends who insult each other constantly but are immediately in cahoots whenever there’s a whiff of shenanigans. nothing better than two bozos bickering nonstop as they execute the stupidest plan you’ve ever heard

rcbinbvckleys​:

⚢

“i think some faces are just, way more noticeable than others.” it would have been much easier to pretend that she didn’t know him at all, but words had escaped her mouth way quicker than robin’s mind working to figure that one out. hopefully, she’d just managed to pull it back. if cole ever actually found out… she’d practically beg the ground to swallow her up. 

“truthfully if you said that you didn’t know him, only then would i be surprised.” it felt like steve knew everyone, and they all definitely knew him. he had been known as king steve, after all. “and he was so obnoxious back then, right?” it wasn’t surprising that cole and he were friends, even if robin felt like there were some other details she didn’t know. “it was truly some crazy fucked up shit. i’ve never been more scared in my life.” until the events of 1986, but that was a whole other ball game. “if it wasn’t for steve and that stupid hair of his, i honestly don’t think i’d be here right now.”

xx.

“If this is your roundabout way of calling me pretty, I’ll take it,” he teased, trying to ease the tension. Hawkins High was a small school, anyways, so it shouldn’t be surprising that they’d seen each other around. He needed to let it go, but was used to being on the defensive with his classmates.

Cole laughed, nodding knowingly. He didn’t believe there was anyone who’d gone to Hawkins High in the last... six years, give or take, who didn’t know Steve Harrington. “Was, past tense?” he joked, “As far as I can tell, he’s still obnoxious. Less of an asshole, though.” Cole’s teasing quickly subsided into a sad smile. “I can’t imagine being here. It’s fucked up enough that I knew people who died, you know? Like, I can barely deal with that.” Deal with it was generous, as he really hadn’t, but Robin didn’t need the details. 

𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙴 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙻 #𝟶𝟶𝟼: cole & max

MAX: sorry. i'll try again.

MAX: [clearing her throat]

MAX: dickwad, are you there?

MAX: geez, sound more excited to see me.

MAX: it's gonna take me a second to skate there from downtown.

MAX: are you like, good?

COLE: i could lock the door

COLE: if i'm leaving the door open, assume there's some excitement

COLE: sorry i'm not like singing the doxology or something

COLE: [sigh]

COLE: i'm in a shitty mood. it's not your fault

sinclairss​:

the hideaway wasn’t usually at the top of lucas’ list of places to hang out, but after the carnival, he was looking for just about anything that might take the edge off. he’d been attacked by the doppelganger. max had been taken by the monster. the older kids had nearly gotten blown up. any of those things would be traumatic enough on its own, but add on the fact that five people -including mr. clarke- had died, and it left lucas with a lot to think about. according to his therapist, he’d gotten to the anger portion of his grieving process when he’d vandalized his middle school. showing up at the hideaway when he was supposed to be at physical therapy? that was squarely in the depression part. it wasn’t that he didn’t drink, but lucas didn’t usually drink alone. 

which was probably why lucas’ first instinct upon walking into the dimly lit bar was to find a drinking buddy. relief loosened his shoulders when he spotted cole montgomery sitting at the bar. ever since the guy had fallen into an open grave trying to help lucas out of one, he’d felt a strange sort of camaraderie with the other. he wondered if cole’s doctors knew he was spending his time drinking at the bar before realizing he probably didn’t care if they did. “same as you,” he answered with a humorless smile. “needed a drink.” he nodded as he slid into the seat to cole’s left and ordered a beer. 

the good thing about this bar was that they rarely ever carded, especially not after tragedy struck town. again. he remembered that his dad came here the night will’s ‘body’ had been found. and he and the basketball team had spent time tucked into a corner after…something had happened to jason’s girlfriend, right? lucas couldn’t remember. either way, the bartender passed over a glass and lucas thanked her with a smile, lifting the beer in cole’s direction in a mock toast. “thanks.” he took a long sip and wrapped both hands around the cool glass as he turned in his seat to look at cole properly. “so…” his eyes flicked back to cole, one side of his mouth quirking in the shadow of a grin. “what’s new? seen any good movies lately?”

xx.

Needed a drink. Cole certainly couldn’t argue with Lucas’ logic, enough had happened to warrant everyone in town taking a load off, especially Lucas. Cole absentmindedly wondered if Max knew Lucas was here. He hadn’t exactly gotten an update from her in a while, so he didn’t know what was going on between the two of them, except that there was something. There had always been something. “Well, cheers.” Cole raised his glass to Lucas’ and took a long drink, barely stopping himself from downing the whole glass in one gulp. Best to reign it in, in case Lucas relayed anything to Max.

Not that they were exactly talking right now, anyway. Things had been weird ever since Tessa Calloway’s funeral, which Cole only attended because Adam wanted to, for the record. He’d been torn up about the whole thing since then-- partially because he’d fought with Max, but also because he couldn’t help but wonder: How many others were afraid of Adam? How many others wouldn’t hesitate to restrain him or hurt him, even though none of this was his fault? Cole took a long look at Lucas, the other’s words processing somewhere behind the alcohol-induced haze of Cole’s mind. Was Lucas one of them, too?

The side of Cole’s mouth quirked over the glass at Lucas’ joke. “Hmm... Dirty Dancing? I’ve watched that like, six times with Adam’s youngest sister now. Or Hairspray,” he added, laughing at his movie choices. He knew Lucas wasn’t the type to make fun of him, but still, couldn’t he have at least seen a Star Wars movie or something? Then, it clicked. “The Lost Boys. Max really liked that one,” he smiled fondly, but his smile faltered after a second. “Is she... doing okay? It’s been a minute.” 

who: cole & @goldenboyrichards​

where: the Richards’ house

Since Adam died, Cole had made it a habit to check on his sisters at least once a week. He’d been quite close to them when Adam was alive, as he went over to the Richards house once or twice a week for English tutoring. Mrs. Richards, particularly, loved Cole for ensuring her son passed English, and always had some sort of baked good in the oven on tutoring days. He’d loved coming over to the Richards’, to get a glimpse of a functional family and a father who was fairly involved with his children. Besides, Cole had always wanted a big family, so he was never annoyed by the girls’ footsteps and giggling filling the hallways.

Now, though, the energy in the household was different. For the first few months after the fire, Cole almost dreaded going over-- it broke his heart to see the family so devastated. But in the last year or so, it had gotten easier; they’d sort of mutually decided that remembering Adam together was better than suffering alone. It was a somber occasion, still, but bearable. 

Today, Cole had picked up Dirty Dancing at Family Video, because Cindy had been talking about it lately and he figured he’d give it a shot. He always had a soft spot for Cindy (and Patrick Swayze). Cole approached the familiar house on his skateboard and stopped short by the curb, glancing at a guy around his age sitting on the porch. Had they invited cousins into town he didn’t know about? Or maybe it was the neighbor?

Untucking the VHS from his arm, Cole walked up the steps and tried to get a closer look at the guy without seeming weird. He immediately recognized Adam’s old hat-- the beat-up Notre Dame logo, with bleach spots from a botched wash, was unmistakable. “Hey, man,” Cole said, trying to get his attention. “I don’t know if you’re a guest or whatever, but you shouldn’t touch Adam’s stuff,” he said, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice. What kind of asshole just helped himself to a dead guy’s belongings? Cole wanted to snatch the hat off of the guy’s head, but he resisted.

who: Cole & @stevehharringtcns​

where: the gayest hospital room in Hawkins <3

Cole had been in and out of sleep for... he wasn’t sure how long, exactly. A few hours, a few days? Not a few months-- if it had been a few months, he’s sure he’d have at least a little bit of stubble gathering on his jaw. Brushing a hand over his still-smooth skin, he looked at the bed across from him. The last time he remembered being awake, when Max was here, she’d opened the curtain so he could see his temporary roommate: Steve Harrington.

“Psst, Steve,” Cole whispered, careful not to wake Adam up. The one good thing about being hospitalized was that Adam hadn’t left his side for more than a few hours, and he’d been sleeping with their arms tangled together. He wasn’t sure if Adam moved every time a nurse walked in or if he was just past the point of caring. 

When he’d successfully gotten Steve’s attention, Cole shot him a brave smile. First order of business: “How are you doing?” Then: “Did you eat my fucking jell-o?” 

@goldenboyrichards

To say Cole was having a really fucking bad day was the understatement of the century. He’d started his morning being yelled at by a woman at work who was positively incensed that The Music Center of Hawkins, Indiana didn’t carry some brand new Yamaha keyboard. As if Hawkins was the epicenter for all trends and expensive brands? Then, he’d taken his mom’s car to the shop to assess the damage, and those crooks were claiming he’d have to pay $3,000. Who in Hawkins had that kind of cash laying around and what the hell did they need it for? So, yeah, he’d left the shop in a bit of a flurry and maybe wasn’t paying the best attention to his surroundings-- but it was not his fault that his car slid into the one in front of him. He’d slammed on the brakes, but the damn thing reacted so slowly. Could you damage your brakes in a crash?

Cole groaned when the prick got out of the car. This was going to be fun. The guy started yelling and, truthfully, Cole was barely listening. He was distracted by the guy’s antics... and maybe a little by his face. Cole unclicked his seatbelt and slid out of the car, wishing he had a cigarette right now. He had barely even hit the car, it wasn’t even dented-- something that could easily buff out, which Cole knew because he’d buffed out plenty of scratches on his mom’s old station wagon before. “Calm the fuck down, guy,” Cole said, rolling his eyes. “I happen to like driving my car around like this, unsure if the brakes will give out or if it’ll all just go up in flames at any minute. Keeps me awake,” he articulated every syllable, leaning into the guy’s personal space. Then, because he couldn’t help it: “If you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked without all the fuss.” He paused and, when the guy prompted him again, Cole threw his hands out in a shrugging motion. “The fuck do you want me to write my information on? Your car?” he dangled his keys in front of the guy, as if he would key his home address into the bumper. 

WHO: thad bradshaw and @colemontgomeryx​ WHERE: the streets of hawkins 

thad could read a map, he really could! he’d even taken cartography lessons growing up, but nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for how to navigate hawkins. the roadways made no sense, the city planning was incomprehensible, and he was thoroughly irritated. as his road rage was about to peak, everything halted when some piece of shit came barreling into the back of his car. his baby. he had a lot of outlandish things in life, but none quite as important as his car. money was no object, and neither was the labor, thad would drop both gladly, but it was the principle. nice things, like his car, should be kept nice. and ugly things, like the clunker that hit him, should be driven off a bridge. 

stepping out of his car huffing and puffing, thad slammed the door closed, “hey, man.” he said, jaw clenched. “i don’t know if your brains are scrambled or you think driving that thing is street legal, but you just ruined my car!” it was a dramatization, really. he hadn’t even looked at his bumper, but right now it was more important that thad get the point across that he was upset. “it’s an engine combustion waiting to happen,” he placed his hands on his hips, “not only are you stupid, but you’re lazy. that would take me maybe…two…three afternoons worth of work.” he boasted, simultaneously insulting the other, “and god knows, there’s nothing to do around here, so maybe you should get your priorities in check, pal.” now that he had sufficiently ranted, thad thought clearly to demand, “give me your information, so i can contact you with a bill after i fix my car.” he looked back at his baby, all dented and scratched in the back. thad’s lip could’ve quivered. he turned back to the monster who did this, and more forcefully prompted, “well don’t just stand there, now.”

eddiemcnson​:

+++

“oh.” eddie just continued to stare, stupidly, until his eyes widened, brain finally catching onto what cole had just admitted here. shit. so hawkins wasn’t as prim, proper and heterosexual as he’d been made to believe all this time. eddie licked his lips, blinked. wracking his brain on what to say next. nearly choking on his own breath when he said ‘we fucked’ and oh, his cheeks immediately lit up, stained a deep red colour. he nodded.

“so you’re….”, he trailed off, browd furrowed, giving cole a meaningful look before he dropped because shit, what else did he need, here? cole had just said he used to have a boyfriend, whom he quote unquote ‘fucked’ - or the other way around? he tried not to think about it, it was getting hard trying to concentrate as is -  what other confirmation could he possibly need to know that cole was into guys?

he didn’t miss how cole’s eyes slipped to his lips and his tongue darted out to swipe over his bottom lip. shit, why was he this flustered? getting hit on in chicago eddie usually wasn’t this squirming and blushing mess of a man. but hawkins? whole ‘nother story. not that he was totally suave in chicago, either, but at least a little more in control. here, he felt powerless. 

however, he straightened his back, took another drag. however, he thought, it didn’t need to be that way. if he pulled himself together. “oh yeah?”, he questioned, brow raised, a grin forming on his lips. “yeah? well, what if i -” and he actually couldn’t believe he was going to use a line this corny but here went nothing - “ well, what if i wanted to skip straight to dessert?”

xx.

As redness overtook Eddie’s cheeks, Cole took another drag of his cigarette. “Yes, I’m gay. You can say it,” he confirmed, his voice remaining low. Cole was sure Eddie would never out him, partially because that wasn’t Eddie’s character, and partially because of mutually assured destruction.

It was exhausting to have to keep such a large part of him a secret, and Cole was frustrated by it. Maybe that’s why he told Eddie (other than, obviously, trying to hook up with him). When Cole went to college, he was able to be himself more freely; he wasn’t out, per se, but he was much more comfortable discussing his sexuality. He wondered if Eddie had a similar experience in Chicago, and was now, like Cole, struggling to reconcile all the different parts of himself.

Cole grinned, noting the change in Eddie’s demeanor. Cole finished his cigarette and reached behind Eddie to throw it away. He brushed his arm against Eddie’s and took advantage of proximity this move afforded him. Glancing up into Eddie’s eyes, Cole’s own twinkled mischievously. “Well, that’s too easy. What about foreplay?” his voice was barely above a whisper.