Fics that have made me cry
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Big Daddy, Junior, and the Holy Spook by cheekaspbrak (orphan_account)
Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)
13 Jan 2020
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Summary
“When was your first day?” He asks, unsure if that is an appropriate question to ask. Several moments slide by before Richie moves to take his glasses off and set them on his nightstand. He closes his eyes once they are off like there's no point in trying to see anything without them.
“Fourth grade,” Richie answers quietly.
“Fourth grade?” Eddie repeats incredulously, amazed that anyone could send their kid off to boarding school so young. For a moment, he tries to imagine what little 9-year-old Richie would look like, tiny suitcase in hand as he waved goodbye to his parents. Maybe he even cried after lights out. Eddie frowns against his pillow.
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stanley needs a left fielder. richie needs a friend.
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Mike's life is split in three categories; the life he should have, the life he wants to have, and the life he has to have. Currently, he's living in limbo between all three; he'll never have that white-picket fence and suburban wife, not when the only girl he could try to love has left him, and while he's finding it harder to live the life he has to have— the life where he hides himself so deep, not even the people he loves know who he is— he'll never get the life he wants, either.
Limbo sucks, to put it simply. He's so close to what he wants (which is Will, no matter how hard he tries to shove it down) but he just can't push past that barrier and talk to Will, not when everything he does always feels wrong.
But, maybe, Mike might come to learn that what he wants isn’t so bad, after all.
(Or; Mike's struggle with his internalized homophobia— among other things, including the concept of free will, Robin Buckley's mildly terrifying presence, and wanting things Mike's sure he doesn't deserve— structured around the five stages of grief. You can mourn a life you'll never live, and you can mourn someone you haven't actually lost.)
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"It’s his own fault, too. Not just for – for being like that. Mike blames himself because he wasn’t able to keep his damn mouth shut. He never has been, so he’s learned to pick out the strained smiles and glassy eyes that worm their way onto others’ faces when Mike is being too much. He felt it from other kids at school, from teachers, and from his own family.
Fuck the people who say they miss the bubbly, vivacious little kid he used to be.
All they ever wanted was less of him, and Mike delivered on that. He made sure to shove bits of himself in drawers, under beds, and behind closet doors. Sometimes it was the trash can, the side of the road, or among the embers of a roaring fireplace.
He realized his mistake too late – everyone hated the parts that he’d kept, but he had no way of going backwards. The damage had been done, utterly irreversible."
Or: Mike runs into some trouble at home and has to find the comfort he needs somewhere else. Luckily, Joyce Byers is ready with open arms.
Series
- Part 1 of here began all my dreams
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Summary
“I don’t hate you, Mike,” Jonathan said quietly, and the words sent revulsion threading through his veins. Mike let out a choked noise, trying to pull away, but the arms stayed locked around him, caging him in place even when his shaky hands came up and tried to push him away. His breaths were quick and tight and he couldn’t do this, couldn’t let Jonathan hold him like this, like he was something to be cherished.
___mike wheeler is certain that jonathan hates him now, years of past history be damned. and—he should hate him, right? because mike was an awful person, really, and everybody knew it.
except jonathan insists that he doesn't hate him. even when mike tells him his worst secret.