skyisnotherern

[skyisnotherern]

I’ve decided that my 20s are actually age 25 - 35

[skyisnotherern]

fanfic writing culture isn’t “oh dang! I wanted to write about this prompt with this character but someone else already wrote it, so now I can’t”.

fanfic writing culture is always “two cakes is better than one. the more the merrier. there can ever be enough fics of this character with this prompt!”

[skyisnotherern]

the point of fanfiction is that you can write whatever the fuck you want forever and no one can stop you. #thepower

[skyisnotherern]

you can always write disgusting pornography btw. if you forgot

[skyisnotherern]

if you go insane enough about the Character you can cry over things that never even happened to them outside your head

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[skyisnotherern]

Billy Hargrove had 96 hours of glorious popularity before being returned to the realm of the mortals rather unceremoniously. Steve couldn’t be sure what exactly caused it but Hargrove almost certainly being a communist couldn’t have helped.

He just crashed to the level of Munson and Byers, completely unaffected in mood or attitude. The whole nerd shit came out too. Hard.

Steve was doing a monumentally good job at ignoring him, despite Hargrove not backing off on the whole personal space front at all.

Nobody could ignore him the day he came to school dressed as Pete Burns. A Pete Burns with a very evident limp and busted face.

Idle chatter said he was gay too. Not common chatter but the kind of talk you’d be privy to if you were also secretly a little bit gay. Like Steve.

Or Tommy, who bragged about having an encounter in the showers with Hargrove to Steve for a full two weeks. Murder had never looked so attractive. Murder or a proposed threesome. Maybe both.

Hargrove continued to invade not only Steve but everyone else’s space. He licked Steve once, when nobody could see. Steve concerningly didn’t hate it.

It was Carol who’d encouraged him to start flirting back. From knowing Carol for as long as he had, it could have been genuine advice or a desire to watch Steve’s world engulf in flames. Bored and horny Steve chose to believe the former.

Billy seemed receptive. At first. It was like a game and for once, Steve felt like he was winning again. Nothing crazy, but still. It was fun.

But he took it too far. The adrenaline of flirting all through basketball practice got to him and Steve did something he shouldn’t have.

He licked Hargrove back. It didn’t go well.

The storm out was spectacular and catastrophic. As was the immediate realisation in Steve’s brain of how badly he’d fucked up. The clear implications of him making fun of Billy or trying to out him. Shit.

Standing outside the Hargrove-Mayfield house, hoping he wouldn’t get jumped by an abusive fascist was not fun. At all. Once the door opened, dealing with Max was also not fun. He got berated quite severely.

Steve genuinely pled his case and she seemed to take pity on him, at least looking him up and down before speaking.

Max took in a very deep breath. “He has a mural to Che Guevara in his bedroom. Don’t mention it.” Then she let Steve through.

Billy did indeed have a mural placed beside his bed. He also had a concerning amount of beer bottles congregating below his bed. Steve decided to start with a simple hi. That should do.

He then explained and apologised to the muscular back and head refusing to look at him. He wasn’t making fun of Billy at all, liked him and wanted to try something out. If Billy wanted.

Billy eventually turned around.

“My dad will kill you if he sees you here. He’ll kill both of us.”

Steve stood uncomfortably next to the bedframe. It was something he’d been aware of but Billy putting it so bluntly was a shock. Even more of a shock was Steve’s immediate response.

“I don’t care.”

It wasn’t really true, Steve cared a lot about Billy’s safety in his house, but they both knew what he meant.

Steve sat next to him and from then on it was them against the entire world.

[skyisnotherern]

He's his regular.

billy x eddie gifs | hawkinsboys 🩵🖤

[skyisnotherern]

part 1

the house creaked like it was holding its breath.

later that night, after neil snored himself into oblivion and susan tucked herself in with guilt stitched into her silence, max crept down the hall. the kitchen light had burned her retinas earlier. the sight of billy shaved down and broken, still branded behind her eyelids.

his bedroom door was bolted shut. no music or anger behind it. just quiet.

she undid the lock and stepped inside.

billy was curled on his side facing the wall, blanket pulled halfway over him like it was an afterthought. his body looked tense, like even sleep wouldn't let him off the hook.

she moved carefully, eyes sweeping the room.

then she saw it. the trash bin next to his desk. inside, clumps of golden-brown curls twisted and crumpled like discarded pieces of himself. a broken earring nestled at the bottom, still smeared with blood.

max swallowed hard.

she tiptoed towards him.

"hey," she whispered, unsure if he was awake.

he didn’t move.

she sat on the edge of his bed, not touching, just near enough for the silence to feel shared. her fingers itched to reach for him, to give him something soft in a house full of edges. a hug. maybe even just her hand on his blanket-covered arm.

but she didn’t.

because she didn’t know if it would help or hurt worse. because billy hated pity. because he was already drowning, and she didn’t know if her touch would be a rope or another weight pulling him under.

so she stayed frozen. watching his back rise and fall 

"he’s an asshole," she muttered.

still nothing. “and... you didn’t deserve that. any of it."

after a few moments, billy shifted. just slightly. not toward her but more like a twitch. like he’d heard her but didn’t know how to respond.

she reached out, fingertips brushing the edge of the blanket near his shoulder. he flinched. not dramatically, but enough to make her pull back.

max blinked fast, trying not to cry.

he wasn’t the easiest person to love, but this…this wasn’t about attitude or fights over rides to the arcade. this was cruelty. this was his spirit being ground down until even he didn’t recognise himself.

“i hate him,” she said, voice cracking. “i really do.”

silence.

and then billy spoke. voice low, hoarse, raw.

“me too.”

[skyisnotherern]

part 2

after waving goodbye to joyce behind her, max knew something was off the moment she walked through the door.

billy was at the kitchen table, hunched over his plate like he was trying to fold himself smaller. hoodie up, shoulders stiff. neil sat across from him, smug and silent. her mum looked like a ghost as she served up dinner.

she dropped her bag with a thud. “hey,” she said, testing the air as susan gently kissed her forehead.

billy didn’t look up.

they sat in a heavy kind of silence until neil reached over and yanked billy’s hood back.

“none of that crap at the table,” he barked.

it was the silence after that split max open.

….billy’s hair was gone.

shaved unevenly, like it had been done in anger. raw patches on his scalp, red and irritated. his jaw was tight, lips pressed together like he was trying not to breathe.

but what gutted her was the earring.

or, the absence of it.

one ear was red and torn at the lobe, like it had been ripped out. a smear of dried blood clung just below it. max felt something claw up her throat.

his eyes didn’t meet hers. they were glassy though. puffy, red-rimmed and hollow. like whatever fight he had left was stripped out with the rest of him.

her heart dropped straight into her stomach.

“stop your sulking boy! at least now you don’t look like some damn fairy.” neil said, ripping into his meatloaf like he hadn’t broken his own son into fragments.

it clicked in an instant…neil did this.

shaved him down like punishment and humiliation wrapped in hatred. spat slurs at him until they stuck. tore him down piece by piece until there was nothing left but silence.

max couldn’t move.

susan said nothing, eyes glued to the floor like it might swallow her whole if she stared hard enough.

and billy…

he didn’t touch his food. didn’t lift his gaze. but his knuckles were white around the fork. hands trembling just enough to be noticed if you looked close.

max stared.

she didn’t recognize him. not just because of the hair, or the missing earring, or the bruised cheekbone.

but because the fire was gone. this was a boy who once roared at the world, who tore through life with fists raised and middle finger extended. and now… he looked like a shadow wearing his own skin.

her plate went cold. her stomach twisted. she wanted to say something! scream! throw neil through the goddamn wall! but the words got stuck somewhere behind the lump in her throat.

so she sat. silent. angry. aching.

[skyisnotherern]

they should invent a medicine that makes the aching jagged wound in your soul close

[skyisnotherern]

i bet positive thinking goes so hard when youre a normal person

[skyisnotherern]

billy’s the kind of kid who slouches in class like he owns apathy. he doodles skulls and flames in the margins of his notebook. flips off authority with his eyes before his mouth. teachers mark him as trouble in the first five minutes of seeing him. bad attitude. lost cause. doesn’t try.

but what they don’t see is that he finished the textbook weeks ago. memorised the formulas, the vocab, the dates. every test, every worksheet…perfect? it’s confusing.

but not to him. because if he didn’t get the grades, neil made sure he paid for it. he plays dumb because being clever gets you noticed.

he’d learnt to solve equations faster than he could patch bruises. learnt to keep his head down, mouth shut, grades high. survival didn’t come in fists…it came in numbers, correct answers, honour roll tucked behind silence.

only max knows, kind of.

she caught him correcting the history notes she left out in the kitchen once, deadpan, like he hadn’t just recited a timeline from memory and reworded three whole paragraphs. she didn’t say anything. just nodded. their secret.

billy’s clever. terrifyingly so. but he'd rather be the guy no one expects.

it’s safer.

[skyisnotherern]

Ok so I personally love the headcanon of Steve being italian (since I'm italian myself), so I decided to draw Harringrove and the party having a blast at the San Paolo stadium the day Naples won its first scudetto (1987).

[skyisnotherern]

housewives were not banging out spirk fanfiction in the 60s for you to be AI generating your fic

[skyisnotherern]

Reblog to give prev the power to write their fanfiction

[skyisnotherern]

when the kids visit steve and billy in california they expect… something awkward. maybe tension. maybe silence.

instead, billy’s flipping burgers in board shorts, hair sun-bleached, sunglasses on and smile real. he teases dustin about his sunburn and tosses him some aloe vera gel. gives mike tips about growing out his hair. tells lucas his jump shot’s gotten better. lets will pick the next movie. buys eggos especially for el.

when they go the beach, billy’s out surfing. shoulders out, scars catching light, grin wide. steve watches him from the sand with a wide grin. sometimes billy falls just to be dramatic, flips off a wave and hollers like a wild thing. the kids watch and cheer him on. and steve’s heart? gone. fully wrecked.

and max….she just stands there for a beat. watching. taking it all in.

it hits her like a punch and a hug. this version of him. this bright, open thing. and she realizes it’s not new. it’s old. buried. bruised under neil’s storm.

he’s always been this, somewhere inside.

“i’m happy for you,” she says quietly later, as they’re making their way back home.

billy grins and hugs her tightly.

“thanks red”