#I don’t really think this is anti-Billy but just to be safe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aemiron-main · 2 years

Text

the st soundtrack choices and the way that they’re edited and incorporated are fucking genius seriously you guys it ties into the narrative and queerness and other themes so well and also if you enjoy my gay mike analysis you’re def gonna want to read this imo

if i ever start talking about the ST song choices and their relationship to songs/song choices regarding songs that are seemingly pro-protest and anti-conformity but are actually still safe enough to still enforce the norm and have been ACTIVELY USED by conservative politicians to give the appearance of counterculture and rebellion while still upholding and enforcing the norm while giving their supporters the illusion of rebellion and freedom, and how oppressors like to frame themselves as the underdogs and how not only do oppressors/rightwingers want to squash counterculture music and expression but also will actively steal and twist it to make it reinforce the norm and fit their agenda, i Will Not Stop talking about it, like once that can of worms is opened it is uncloseable sorry.

yes i am staring DIRECTLY at “raise a little hell” being used for steve’s party which is tied to conformity and seems like rebellion but actually isn’t rebellion (like how jonathan talks about how nancy is just a suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling but is actually just doing the same thing as other suburban girls) yes i am staring DIRECTLY at ‘rock you like a hurricane’ and ‘shout at the devil’ and ‘the four horsemen’ and billy, somebody who sees himself as counterculture and rock and roll but in reality is using rock and roll to reinforce dated, bigoted beliefs and promote hatred. and how all of those songs, despite all being rock songs, occupy different subcultures and tie into politics and culture in very different ways. like they didn’t do this accidentally, this pattern of songs is constant and it’s backed up by scenes like what i mentioned with steve and jonathan and nancy and conformity. and thats why i have a LOT TO SAY ABOUT THE SONG CHOICES IN S4 RELATIVE TO S4′S THEMES OF ANTI CONFORMITY AND HOW WE HAVE TO LOOK PAST THE SURFACE AND JUST ARGHHHHH like i remember seeing a genius quote about it in an article awhile back (not abt st specifically but about the phenomena of how conservatives and those who want to maintain the norm use rock and roll and previously counter-culture efforts in order to twist it and enforce the norm):

“rock n roll isn’t dead, rock n roll is alive and wants tax cuts for the rich” it’s not just limited to rock and roll though, pop songs that are deemed to be nostalgic and counterculture are used in that way too (even if they actually ARE counterculture and QUEER TOO, they get twisted), specifically Rise Up by Parachute Club comes to mind, which isn’t in st, but similar songs ARE and thats why im so excited to analyze them, because Rise Up was thought to be a queer anthem but was used WITHOUT PERMISSION as the theme for the United Alternative convention (a canadian rightwing convention) and im certain that there’s other pop and rock songs in ST that have similar things that have happened to them, in addition to the ones that i’ve already mentioned imo this ties into why we don’t HEAR any really harsh metal etc. it’s not an accident. there’s a REASON why metal doesn’t play for eddie until his scene at the end and also why they chose master of puppets specifically and how rock music is literally constantly used as a puppet to reinforce the norm under the guise of rebellion and how EDDIE STILL DIED DESPITE HIS REBELLION and how master of puppets is also about drug use and how people think that they’re in control/the master but they’re actually the puppet of their addiction just like how people often think that they’re being counterculture and progressive but they’re actually reinforcing the norm (see: billy) and reason this ties into why we hear a KISS song during the hellfire game instead of a dio song or an iron maiden song or any of the more harsh metal songs that eddie is CLEARLY A FAN OF, ones that LITERALLY HAVE FUCKING SONGS ABOUT WIZARDS AND DND RELATED THINGS but they didnt use that but they DID use ‘detroit rock city’ but they CUT THE SUBSTANCE OUT OF IT JUST LIKE HOW CONSERVATIVES CUT THE SUBSTANCE AND COUNTERCULTURE OUT OF SONGS WHEN THEY TWIST THEM FOR THEIR OWN NARRATIVE, because they cut out the intro of detroit rock city where a radio broadcast plays talking about a boy in a car crash AND they cut out the car crash at the end. and this ties into what im saying about cutting the substance out of it because without the context, the song just seems like it’s about rock and roll and having a fun time and a guy recklessly driving to a concert. but WITH the context, we learn that the guy that the song is talking about, the one driving recklessly to a concert, IS THE ONE WHO THE RADIO BROADCAST IS TALKING ABOUT, THE ONE WHO DIED. because we hear the CRASH AT THE END. but the show didn’t include the radio broadcast OR the crash!! because THEY LITERALLY REMOVED THE DANGER and the SUBSTANCE OF THE SONG THEY REMOVED THE FULL CONTEXT, JUST LIKE THE CONSERVATIVES, THE SHOW USED IT TO SUPPORT THEIR OWN NARRATIVE AND NOT SHOW US THE FULL PICTURE/NOT MAKE US AWARE OF THE DANEGR (THE DANGER BEING A.) HOMOPHOBIA AND CONFORMITY BUT ALSO B.) THE LITERAL DANGER OF VECNA AND HOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE DND GAME MIRRORS WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED WITH HENRY/VECNA BUT HOW WE DONT REALIZE IT BECAUSE IT JUST SEEMS LIKE A GAME. and THAT’S just like how the GA sees dnd and the dnd arc in s4 as being JUST about the game, as JUST hearing ‘detroit rock city’ without the context and thinking it’s just about a guy going to a concert, not realizing that it’s about his DEATH AS A RESULT OF THAT CONCERT, just like how the dnd and hellfire arc in s4 it was NEVER just about dnd, it’s about queerness and the aids crisis and homophobia too. Just like how the satanic panic was NEVER JUST ABOUT DND but the media and conservatives manipulated the rhetoric to make it seem like they were just scared of the game. It was about hating outcasts, upholding the norm, homophobia, and all forms of bigotry. It was about control and maintaining the norm, anti-conformity. and this lack of use of actual metal music up until master of puppets also ties into how rock music and metal specifically was demonized in the satanic panic and how while people could see eddie as being counterculture and would demonize metal music, they never actually take the time to get to know him just like how they never actually take the time to listen to metal music. because just like how if they took the time to get to know eddie, they’d realize he isn’t evil, the same applies with metal music. and this sounds like im pulling stuff out of my ass but this is why eddie mentions ozzy osbourne to steve and that’s why steve narratively doesnt know who ozzy osbourne is. it’s not just a random scene, the purpose of this scene is to tie “not getting to know/listen to eddie” to “not getting to know/listen to metal”- why? because OZZY OSBOURNE AND BLACK SABBATH IS LITERALLY KNOWN FOR HAVING VERY POSITIVE MESSAGES ABOUT PEACE AND LOVE AND KINDNESS AND ANTI-WAR IN THEIR SONGS. BUT PEOPLE CAN’T SEE PAST THE HARSH METAL OF IT TO ACTUALLY LISTEN TO THE MUSIC. JUST LIKE HOW THEY CAN’T SEE PAST EDDIE’S APPEARANCE AND GET TO KNOW HIM. Steve doesn’t *know* who ozzy osbourne is, just like he doesn’t know eddie, just like how people don’t know metal music, just like how people make baseless assumptions about both of them. THIS IS ALSO WHY WE SEE STEVE BITING A BAT, JUST LIKE EDDIE MENTIONS OZZY DOING: BECAUSE STEVE AND OZZY ARENT THAT DIFFERENT, BLACK SABBATH AND THE BEATLES ARENT THAT DIFFERENT, MUCH OF THE CORE MESSAGE IS THE SAME, MESSAGES OF LOVE AND PEACE AND ANTI WAR.This is why we don’t hear ‘real’ metal music in s4 until the end, with master of puppets, because people aren’t seeing eddie for who he is, people, the audience, literally aren’t hearing the music until the end, people don’t see eddie for what he is (a good person and a hero) until he is dead. Just like how people NOW see the fact that black sabbath is full of good messaging, but didn’t see it at the time (which also ties into how black sabbath HAS been used in present-day to reinforce the norm). And all of this ties into ‘shout at the devil’ too, and how Billy and so many people at the party but esp Billy and his character, don’t realize what the song is actually about (motley crue talking about how ‘hey i mean technically this supports you christian folk, because it’s shout AT the devil, not WITH the devil,’ but how that’s rooted in sarcasm because the rightwing christians don’t realize that THEY are the devil, just like Lucas’ ‘normal’s just a raging psychopath’ quote, they don’t realize that their ‘normalcy’ IS the hatred) and then ALSO how ‘shout at the devil’ has been repurposed by nostalgic rightwingers trying to reinforce the norm while thinking that they’re rebelling (ie, again, those rightwingers think that they’re the victims, that they’re shouting at the devil, not realizing that they ARE the devil.) Just like how black sabbath’s messaging of peace and love but also taking action and even violence against hatred WAS counterculture, because the current culture is hatred, so love is the real counterculture. Just like how I’ve talked about before, having a happy ending for the queer characters is the most counter-culture thing that the show could do, more counter culture and shocking than any violent bury your gays death could possibly ever be, because those circumstances are the NORM, queer success and joy and happiness is the real counterculture. and how we DID hear metal music with Billy in previous seasons, with him listening to Metallica, but how that’s tied to the fact that BILLY is the one not hearing the music, ignoring the counterculture reality of the lyrics and instead continuing to conform with misogyny and racism and homophobia and heternormativity, he sees hatred as counterculture which is not true because the current norm and culture is rooted around hatred and bigotry. and then how THAT and the satanic panic ties into a queer allegory and the aids crisis panic and how the music choices circle back to that and how the oppressors tend to see themselves as the oppressed and position themselves as victims (cough Jason cough and cough catholic victim complex cough and the people pushing the satanic panic acting as if they were the ones being being targeted when in reality they were the ones targeting others and how during the aids crisis, homophobes etc saw themselves as the victim of ‘the predatory gays trying to give them aids’ instead of seeing the aids victims as the victims and how it ALL TIES TOGETHER and how VECNA SEES HIMSELF AS THE VICTIM WHEN HE’S THE OPPRESSOR HE SEES HIMSELF AS SAVING PEOPLE AND HAVING BEEN VICTIMIZED WHEN HE IS THE ONE VICTIMIZING PEOPLE!!!!!

AND HOW ALL OF THESE BIG THEMES TIE INTO THE CYCLE OF ABUSE IN A BIG WAY BUT ALSO IN A MORE PERSONALIZED AND SMALLER SCALE WAY WITH ABUSERS SEEING THEMSELVES SOLELY AS VICTIMS AND CONTINUING TO PERPETUATE THAT ABUSE. EVEN LONNIE POSITIONS HIMSELF AS THE VICTIM IN A ROUNDABOUT WAY WHEN IT COMES TO WILL’S DEATH, WANTING TO COLLECT MONEY AS ONE OF THE ‘VICTIMS’ OF THE QUARRY’S NEGLECT/WILL’S DEATH. MEANWHILE, LONNIE WAS THE ABUSER TO WILL, LONNIE WAS THE ONE WHO HURT WILL. BUT HE POSITIONS HIMSELF AS A VICTIM, JUST LIKE HE DOES WITH JOYCE AND JONATHAN, WHEN HE’S TALKING TO JONATHAN IN S1, HE TALKS ABOUT “maybe i’m not the bad guy,” and how JOYCE is the problem. Abusers and oppressors positioning themselves as victims is a constant theme in ST and it only makes sense that it would be reflected in the music, which is why i DONT think that i’m looking too far into it with this writeup!! and yes this also ties into the s3 trailer baba o riley remix LIKE GOD I NEED TO WORK ON MY ST MUSIC ANALYSIS I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY and how theres a reason why they use certain songs from the 70s vs the 80s and themes of nostalgia but also of using that nostalgia to reinforce the norm of heteronormative, conservative and hateful beliefs. and i also have a LOT TO SAY ABOUT THE SONG CHOICES FOR WILL AND JONATHAN AND THOSE SONGS BEING USED IN A GENUINELY COUNTERCULTURE WAY WITH WILL BEING GAY AND JONATHAN BEING AN OUTCAST AND HOW BEING COUNTERCULTURE ISNT ABOUT WHAT YOU LISTEN TO BUT ABOUT WHO YOU ARE AND HOW EVEN THOUGH SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO IS ONE OF THOSE SONGS THAT *HAS* BEEN USED BY THE RIGHTWING TO REINFORCE THE NORM, THE *WAY* THAT ITS USED AND PRESENTED IN ST AND IS LITERALLY ONLY EVER USED IN SITUATIONS WHERE THE CHARACTERS CAN HEAR THE SONG VERSUS OTHER SONGS LIKE ‘ROCK ME LIKE A HURRICANE’ THAT ARE USED IN A WAY THAT CHARACTERS CANT HEAR THEM AND SO ITS NOT ABOUT WHAT THE SONG IS SO MUCH AS IT IS THE ACTIONS TIED TO IT AND HOW ITS BEING USED AND HOW THAT LITERALLY APPLIES TO HOW THE SHOW USES IT BUT ALSO HOW IT GETS USED IRL AND HOW EVEN SONGS THAT ARE GENUINELY COUNTERCULTURE GET STOLEN AND USED TO REINFORCE THE NORM AND HOW SONGS THAT WERENT INTENDED TO BE COUNTERCULTURE CAN BECOME COUNTERCULTURE AND AND AND JUST ARGHHH I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND ALSO HOW WE HAVE SONGS *ABOUT* ROCK AND ROLL BUT ARE LACKING IN ACTUALLY GETTING TO HEAR THOSE ROCK AND ROLL SONGS THEMSELVES Regarding songs that are about rock and roll but not actually really rock and roll songs, I am staring DIRECTLY at you, ‘rock and roll hoochie koo’ and ‘rock me amadeus’ in s4 and even ‘detroit rock city’ which sure its a rock song but its also ABOUT ROCK, we get more songs ABOUT ROCK than we do ROCK SONGS and even with detroit rock city, like i said, they REMOVE THE CONTEXT, and it’s very interesting to me, especially with the rock song, ‘play with me’ by extreme that plays when mike is looking for dnd players and how that ties into my gay mike analysis- sorry not sorry- and into the themes of conformity for mike but explicitly how those themes tie into him being GAY, not just that he’s affected by conformity, because he IS affected by it in multiple ways outside of his sexuality, but it’s also explicitly tied TO him being gay and how just like the dnd arc was never just about dnd/games and is also about homophobia and queerness AND how games/dnd has been tied to mike and will’s sexualities and relationships, the song ‘play with me’ is not just about games/mike trying to find people to play games with, it’s also about mike trying to figure out his sexuality/who he wants to be with/’play’ with (be in a relationship with/who he’s attracted to. and that’s why we get so much ‘mike doesn’t like women’ imagery in those scenes but ALSO more ‘mike DOES like men’ imagery in those scenes and in the van scene with ‘boy’ behind his head whereas in previous seasons the imagery was more focused on ‘mike doesn’t like women’ and how a lot of his attraction towards men in previous seasons was directed towards Will Specifically rather than acknowledging his attraction to men as whole (ie in S4, he has the word ‘boy’ beside his head instead of the word ‘will’ behind him or something representing Will, whereas in s3, we see things representing Will Specifically rather than boys as a whole, things like the Will the Wise drawing beside Mike’s head when he’s making out with El in the bedroom) but now in s4, mike is coming to terms more with his attraction to men as a whole. and how THAT ties into mike slowly getting over his heteronormativity and internalized homophobia and moving away from just focusing on the heteronormative failure of not being attracted to girls and instead towards his active attraction to men and moving away from viewing everything through that heteronormative lens of seeing everything relative to his attraction to women and through the internalized homophobia lens of being disgusted with himself about his attraction to men (cough sauna scene cough and how im going to show in my gay mike analysis that mike was disgusted with HIMSELF in that scene) and how mike may be disgusted with himself about his attraction to men but just like how other people/will’s love for mike specifically makes Will feel better/not like a mistake/helps him get over his internalized homophobia, mike’s love for will specifically is what helps him get over his internalized homophobia regarding his active attraction to men, just like how i said, we saw the imagery shift from “attraction to will specifically vs lack of attraction to girls as a whole (rather than lack of attraction to el specifically)” to “attraction to men as a whole specifically in addition to attraction to will and how his attraction to will helped him come to terms with that attraction to men vs still having that lack of attraction to girls as a whole because he’s already come to his realizations about that in s3″ especially with mike’s obvious crush on eddie and how he’s branching out in attraction to men as a whole outside of will because he’s already realized his lack of attraction to girls but is now figuring out his attraction to men in s4 AND how this STILL ties back into how will/mike’s love for will helped him get over his internalized homophobia AND into the music choices in st, because the songs that play during the mike-eddie cafeteria scene are “i was a teenage werewolf” and “fever,” and how long story short the “Teen Wolf” poster in the video store 100% represents Will, especially with ‘Teen Wolf’ literally having a scene where the character comes out as a werewolf but the other person asks them initially if they’re coming out ‘as a fag’ (and theres a million other parallels to will that i could go into but wont for the sake of the length of this post but WILL go into at another time so just take my word for it rn or go look for yourselves at the movie), and so then, we have “fever,” a song about infatuation that represents mike’s crush on eddie/his sexuality/attraction to men as a whole, but then also ‘I was a teenage werewolf,” a song that TIES THAT ATTRACTION/ABILITY TO COME TO TERMS WITH HIS SEXUALITY to his FEELINGS FOR WILL. It’s not just his crush on eddie that helps him come to terms with it/admit his sexuality for himself, it’s that his feelings for will help him come to terms with his CRUSH ON EDDIE and with his sexualty, since again, like I said, Mike may be able to apply that internalized homophobia hatred to himself, but he CANNOT APPLY IT TO WILL. And how all of THAT is part of WHY mike seems to go back into the closet (in terms of being out to HIMSELF) at rink o mania/in lenora, why we get ‘in the closet at rink o mania,’ because MIKE IS LITERALLY GOING BACK IN THE CLOSET. because WILL is what makes him feel better about his sexuality, but now that he’s having conflict with will, he’s questioning his sexuality too/his willingness to be out, ESPECIALLY SINCE LIKE I TALKED ABOUT IN ANOTHER POST, HE SEEMS TO THINK THAT WILL TOTALLY HAS A CRUSH ON ANGELA AT RINK O MANIA, SO NOW NOT ONLY IS HE DOUBTING THE IDEA THAT WILL COULD HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM BUT HES DOUBTING THE IDEA THAT WILL LIKES MEN AT ALL. AND SO IF MIKES LOVE FOR WILL IS TIED TO HIS ABILITY TO BE OPEN WITH HIMSELF ABOUT HIS SEXUALITY AS A WHOLE, THEN WHEN HE FEELS LIKE HE’S LOSING WILL/IT ISNT REQUITED/HE’S WRONG ABOUT THINKING THAT WILL COULD BE GAY, THEN HE STARTS TO DOUBT HIMSELF AND HIS OWN SEXUALITY TOO AND WHETHER OR NOT HE’S ACTUALLY GAY OR IF THERE’S JUST SOMETHING ELSE ‘WRONG’ WITH HIM/IF HIS LACK OF ATTRACTION TO GIRLS COMES FROM SOMETHING ELSE. AND SO MIKE IS LITERALLY GOING BACK INTO THE CLOSET AT RINK O MANIA HES LITERALLY GOING BACK INTO IT DESPITE THE CLOSET DOOR BEING OPEN IN S4 EP1 DESPITE HOW HE SEEMS MORE LIKE HIMSELF AND PLAYS DND IN HAWKINS BUT THEN TOTALLY CHANGES IN LENORA. He’s BACK in the closet at rink o mania, but started closing the door as soon as he saw will/was gay panicking and having doubts. And how imo that ties into why we see so much bi imagery at rink o mania, but how I still think that aligns with gay mike and actually plays a key role in backing up what i’ve said here about the connection between mike’s love for will and his ability to get over his internalized homophobia/embrace his attraction to men: because we specifically see WILL in front of the bi imagery more than we do mike: because not only is mike reconsidering his own ability to be out/his own attraction to men, but he’s also reconsidering any suspicions that he may have had about Will being gay, because he seemingly sees Will having a crush on Angela, which i talked about at length in this post, and how like i’ve said before, when you look at the evidence objectively without the context of Will’s sexuality being confirmed, WILL seems like the possibly bi one because his sexuality isn’t nearly as framed around lack of attraction to women as mike’s is- and mike doesn’t have that outside ‘will is gay’ confirmation from noah schnapp/the duffers, so he IS relying on that ‘objective, in-the-show- evidence,’ but actually has even LESS evidence than us for will being gay and not bi, because Mike hasn’t seen things like the conversation between Hopper and Joyce about Lonnie calling Will a fag, he hasn’t seen Will’s pov the way that we have, at rink o mania, he hasn’t seen Will making a painting for him, he didn’t see Will’s reaction at the sauna, there’s so much gay Will imagery that mike HAS NOT SEEN. He’s seen the homophobic bullying etc though, so he does still have enough to go off to suspect that will could be gay/into men, but he doesn’t have confirmation, and he DEFINITELY hasnt seen a ton of ‘will explicitly doesn’t like women imagery’ because even we are the audience havent seen very much of that, not nearly as much as we’ve seen for mike, which, mike’s own lack of attraction towards women is what he’s going base his analysis of Will off of, and we know that mike has a LOT of scenes where he’s put into a situation where he feels that lack of attraction, whereas not only does will have many, he has EVEN FEWER that mike actually gets to see (ie, the girl in lenora, mike doesn’t see that) which, THAT, imo is why we see the bi imagery at rink o mania, when the two of them are fighting and mike is confused about his sexuality and will’s sexuality, but see way more explicitly gay/not interested in women imagery everywhere else in the show. it’s not that they forgot to put the bi imagery in other scenes and instead their hand slipped and they put explicitly gay/lack of attraction to women imagery. it’s that the bi imagery at rink o mania serves a specific purpose in regards to will and mike’s dynamic and sexualities and trying to figure themselves and eachother out. (not that bi people are just confused but that this is the 80s and that will and mike are trying to figure out labels and mike is trying to figure out if will IS bi and mike is trying to figure out if hes going to continue to try and pretend to have attraction to women/stay in the closet due to the connection between mike’s relationship with will vs mike’s ability to embrace his own sexuality) (which, just expanding on that, like i said, mike has seen the homophobia that will’s faced AND mike in s3 feels like he’s seen will having a lack of attraction to girls- the ‘day free of girls’ scene despite the fact that that scene was more about will’s friends ignoring him than it was about will’s attraction to girls, we’re looking at this from mike’s pov- so i think that mike could absolutely have suspicions that will IS gay and that it’s not just random bullying IN ADDITION to his own hopes about his feelings being requited) It’s like how if Lucas was mike’s “straight” guide (mike going to lucas about girls in s3 constantly and letting lucas take the lead and how lucas also pushes mike towards el when making fun of him in 1), then Will is mike’s gay guide LMAO. It’s not that Mike is only gay if he can be with will/if will is gay: mike is still gay regardless, but it’s about mike’s ability to accept and embrace that gayness. Especially since if Mike is being internally homophobic to himself and believing in the homophobic stereotypes, then he, in his mike brain, has to also apply that hatred/stereotypes to Will, which is where it becomes difficult for mike and why Will is tied to mike’s ability to embrace his sexuality outside of just his love for will specifically. And how while Mike’s love for will is what helps him get over his internalized homophobia, his platonic love for el is what helps him get over his heteronormativity (he experiences BOTH imo because heteronormativity alone does NOT explain his disgust and shame towards HIMSELF during the sauna scene and how he was the one holding the door open etc etc but thats a topic for the full gay mike analysis) because he’s hurting her as a result of it and doesn’t want to hurt her because he DOES love her platonically and care about her! And so that’s the thing. Mike’s love for Will is tied to his active attraction to men/his internalized homophobia, whereas his platonic love for El/his relationship with El is what’s tied to heteronormativity. This is also why I don’t believe that Mike has been intentionally using El as a beard all along, because El isn’t narratively connected to the internalized homophobia side of things, she’s connected to the heternormativity side of things. and how THAT ties into that fact that gay mike works SO WELL with el and her arc and character and how once el finds out that it was never ABOUT HER as a person, that it’s not that mike doesnt LOVE HER but rather that he’s not attracted to girls AT ALL, she’s going to be HAPPIER than if she found out that mike just fell out of love with her for who she is or something about her/that mike chose Will over her. That’s REALLY one of the big things that makes me a gay mike truther is because if he wasn’t gay, El wouldn’t need to be set up the way that she is as a character, wouldn’t need to be set up in such a specific way with a lack of knowledge about homophobia, wouldn’t need to be set up as a character who’s felt inherently unloveable for who she is, wouldn’t need to be set up as being twins with Will/the writers clearly not just wanting to pit them against eachother, wouldn’t need to be set up in a way where BOTH her and mike don’t understand attraction/romance, because if she was a typical straight girl not raised in a lab, she would have a better/even just a more existent understanding of romance and attraction due to the pressures of heteronormativity that results in girls having to face those topics at a young age, and so then, Mike would be the only one in the couple who doesn’t understand it/is having to figure it out from scratch because he’s gay. But with the way that El’s set up, it’s meant to put them both on equal footing with not understanding attraction/not having a great knowledge of its existence/what it is/how it’s defined and how it feels. And sure, they’re kids and of course ANY kids don’t understand attraction perfectly: but a gay kid in the 80s and a girl raised in a lab have less of an understanding of it/experience with it. And absolutely, bi people did NOT have it easy in the 80s, I’m not saying that it was easier for them to understand their feelings, I’m saying that they DID have feelings towards the ‘opposite’ gender, whereas for Mike that attraction to the ‘opposite gender’ it’s a blank slate because it doesn’t exist for him, just like it is for El, because it didn’t exist for her in the lab. If mike was anything other than gay, El wouldn’t be need to set up in a way where Mike being gay is the best-case scenario for her relationship with him and her own arcs and themes and having a happy/satisfying conclusion to them. So many girls in the 80s who aren’t El, who HAVE been raised with that heteronormativity and understanding of attraction/even if they dont understand, having more of a knowledge of its existence at ALL than el does from a young age would be angry and very likely homophobic if they found out that their boyfriend was gay. But El won’t be. And that way, her relationship with Will isn’t hurt, her relationship with Mike isn’t hurt by him being gay (whereas if he was anything but gay, their relationship would be hurt by him ‘falling out of love’ with her for who she is/something about her, but if he was never in love with her, and isn’t into girls at all, then it’s not about her), that way, El isn’t put into a position of having to choose whether or not to be on the same side as homophobes, who are portrayed consistently as the bad guys in the show. (I am NOT saying that El being mad at mike would be homophobic. I AM saying that if she was set up in a different way, she would have to make the CHOICE of being homophobic or not, of what side to be on, but this way, she isn’t put into that position, which aligns more with her narrative and character) And like we see in the s4 bedroom fight, El is upset about Mike not saying he loves her, but I also think she’s more upset about Mike lying to her. She KNOWS that he doesn’t show that he’s in love, but she wants to see if he can even say it, if he’ll lie about it or not, and I think the REAL hurt comes from him lying about it. And so, if Mike is gay, then not only is “mike lying to el about being in love with her” resolved, but “el being hurt by mike not loving her/feeling unloveable for who she is” is resolved, because it was never ABOUT HER. And sure, “mike lying to el about being in love with her” could be resolved if mike was bi and just fell out of love with her and then was honest with her about it, but again, that doesn’t align with a.) the cracks in their relationship from the VERY BEGINNING IN S1 and b.) with a satsifying conclusion for el’s arc, themes, and characters, and with her and mike and will all staying on good terms with eachother. Like I’ve been saying: if not el, then who? Then WHAT GIRL if will specifically wasn’t an option bc it’s not just that he wants to be with will? If mike isn’t in love with el/attracted to her but IS still attracted to girls, then WHAT WOULD HE CHANGE ABOUT EL? WHAT GIRL DOES HE WANT? HE’S ALREADY TRIED TO MOLD HER INTO HIS ‘IDEAL’ GIRL FROM S1 TO S3 AND NOT IN AN INTENTIONALLY HARMFUL WAY BUT IN A ‘VERY INFLUENCED BY HETERONORMATIVITY AND TRYING TO MAKE EL MEET THE SAME EXPECTATIONS THAT HE FEELS HE HAS TO MEET’ WAY. BUT THAT STILL WASN’T ENOUGH!!! Because Mike’s ideal girl DOESNT EXIST. And the closest that we get to it, the scene where Mike initiates the affection, the closest we get to him being attracted to her (even though he isn’t, but it’s the closest scene we get), is when El is a.) dressed more stereotypically masculinely, b.) she looks so similar to will that the guy at the police station literally mistook her for will and c.) she has very little understanding of the world/unique personality/ability to articulate that personality (she does have a unique personality but it isnt SHOWN to mike very much in s1 compared to the other seasons which is the thing). The closest that we get to Mike being attracted to El, the scene where HE initiates it for once (even during the makeout/affection scenes in s2, El is the one initiating more, she’s the one holding onto HIS arm, she’s the one holding HIS face while they makeout and just sits there or takes her hands off of him), is a scene where El is the closest that she is to resembling a man. And it’s not just that mike still likes women but prefers masculine women, because even THEN, he’s still not fully attracted to her, he’s still operating around heteronormativity and what he thinks he has to do rather than what he actually wants/is attracted to, because he’s still figuring out what he wants/is attracted to. El is literally his ‘ideal girl/the closest thing to it’ in that scene because she MUST BE the closest thing to an ‘ideal girl’ for him in that scene because it’s the only scene where HE initiates the kiss, its the closest he can get to loving her/being attracted to her, even though he doesn’t/isn’t, it’s the closest that he gets to it. How are all of the issues with mike and el’s relationship explained if Mike was genuinely attracted to her at some point? They’re not. They’re not fully explained or fully resolved, even though parts of them can be explained. If they wanted to make Mike anything other than explicitly gay, it wasn’t necessary to set El up in the way that she’s set up. Not that El’s character revolves around Mike, but rather, that they could have addressed the exact same themes and ideas with her character without needing to set her up in a way that works perfectly with gay mike. And how going back to my discussion about counterculture and music, and what is and isn’t counterculture and how people like Billy think that hatred is counterculture when in reality, love and happiness is counter-culture (just like how homophobes and bigots today bitch about how ‘the woke mob is overtaking everything and cishet white conservatives are a minority’), and Mike is starting to embrace counter-culture and anti-conformity in s4 because he’s realizing that love and happiness is the real counter-culture, and beginning to get over his heteronormativity and realize that hatred is the norm and that conformity and the norm sucks and hurts people (whereas in s3 he was trying to embrace conformity and continue to reinforce the norm). Mike is starting to realize that just like I talked with the music, bigots are using symbols of freedom and love and anti-bigotry to turn themselves into the victims Mike is getting over his internalized homophobia because like I said, he not only can’t apply that homophobic rhetoric to will, but being unable to apply it to will makes it more difficult for him to apply it to himself. People who have enforced heteronormativity and homophobia are acting like they’re the victims of having to deal with queer people rather than the other way around, acting like they’re the victims of the aids crisis rather than queer people, acting like they’re the victims of people like eddie rather than eddie being the victims of people like them. Mike is realizing that society isn’t victimizied by his attraction to men, that it isn’t something bad- that it ISNT BAD because something that hurts something that’s bad (ie mike’s sexuality ‘hurting’ society/heteronormativity) is actually something good. He is realizing that the norm sucks, that the norm is hatred. People are also using dnd to push their bigoted narrative, it’s all wrapped into the satanic panic alongside the music which is then tied to queerness and the aids crisis and homophobia. Mike was rejecting dnd/embracing that bigoted narrative to an extent in s3 but now he is starting to go against that narrative and embrace dnd and that ties into him embracing his sexuality like i’ve talked about already in this post. Anyway im gonna explain these last few sections and the links between counter culture, conformity, the ST soundtrack choices and gay mike in a different post/in the analysis, but I need to rewatch the show and analyze the music relative to mike in order to really fully make the point about mike and counterculture and conformity and how it ties into gay mike and how it’s all demonstrated by the ST music. conclusion: mike wheeler is gay the music is gay the music supports gay mike, the stranger things music team are absolutely genius and the way that the narrative is so interwoven with various topics and how that interweaving is supported by the music choices and the ways in which those music choices are implemented is absolutely fantastic. god i need to finish both my music analysis and gay mike analysis.

292 notes · View notes

kimberlyannharts · 1 year

Text

So remember Drakkon? Tommy Oliver if he sucked? The only thing that kept the Power Rangers side of the main series interesting? Well he’s back!!!! He’s back and making new friends (Kiya, who wants to kill him) and reuniting with old friends (the Coinless Rangers, who want to kill him) to fight against Dark Specter, who wants to kill all of them. Let’s see what wacky shenanigans they get up to in Power Rangers Unlimited: The Coinless!

- remember what i said about this book having old woman yuri? yeah.

- not to be weird but I totally get Drakkon’s smile rn. I would also be super happy if Scorpina was on top of me about to murder me

- MURDER WIFE [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE FROM THE SITCOM AUDIENCE]

- you ever get saved from street execution by your ex-wife and immediately start nagging her. he’s such an asshole

- THREATENING LETHAL VIOLENCE JUST REUNION WITH YOUR EX THINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

- ignoring how he sucks this is our first confirmation that the events of DND were important to this book (Dark Specter refers to this as the first world he conquered, so I guess the idea is it’s because he was summoned through the Deadlock opening) though Evil Andros isn’t mentioned or referenced in any way. So I don’t know if he’ll be important later or if he’ll just be quietly written off as having been killed by this point

- Kiya just doesn’t have the headspace to even try and figure out the weird anti-divorce dynamic being laid out in front of her and I don’t blame her. Finster-5 gets more points for literally not even listening to them (he’s been dealing with them for over a decade)

- "keep zombie loved one hidden as a way to keep them safe and possibly get through to them even though it’ll inevitably come back to bite you in the ass” is an inherently gay trope

- Honestly, between the White powers being unable to be split and Drakkon refusing to give up the Green coin, this is more respect for Tommy’s powers and more analysis of Tommy’s feelings towards them than the main series have done..................since Necessary Evil

- ZACK/KIM IN THESE COMICS AGAIN?!????!?? IT’S A GODDAMN MIRACLE

- yes it sucks that Zack had to be the one sacrificed here but at least it’s giving him more narrative and emotional importance than he has in ages

- and heyyyyy we got a little explanation of where the fuck the Triceratops coin has been these past few Coinless stories! Trini had it and refused to let anyone else take it in order to keep Billy close to her. Simple, but effective

- CAN YOU TWO JUST...........................I DON’T EVEN KNOW. KNOCK IT OFF

- you know I didn’t think you could make Drakkon and Slayer’s dynamic even funnier but turns out what you had to do was add a bloodthirsty daughter who really wants to kill her horrible new dad

- oh.........i hoped you would be dead, tbh

- remember how I said in my one ask Drakkon and Slayer get pissed if the other gets hurt by someone else? yeah.

- and yeah. This one wins though for being probably the funniest sequences of panels in the book. Just casually stopping the fifth attempted murder of your ex that day

- AND YEAH. this one is just insane though

- oh look it’s the sequence that made me want to chew through my walls at five am on a Wednesday morning

- HE’S SO FUCKING PISSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this scene was described to me as “he said ‘it’s all yours’ to Dark Specter but apparently he meant everything except Kim” and i just GHRHGHRHGHRGHRHRH

- [sobbing] old woman yuri

- tfw you acted like a dick to people grieving a lost loved one the entire book but now it happened to you and it fucking SUCKS

so yeah obviously I hate that Slayer was captured and is more than likely going to end up possessed this entire event BUT looking at it from a story perspective

a) Slayer’s too popular and too crucial to the Coinless World for her to be killed off. She’ll be back

b) If they’re going where I think they’re going with Drakkon’s development here taking out Slayer is the way to do it. That page in particular was very clearly setting up that this is meant to hit him personally and possibly be the moment where he finally “wakes up” in a sense

c) POTENTIAL FOR POSSESSED!SLAYER VS DRAKKON FIGHT.....................

#mmpr comic #mmpr comic spoilers #spoilers #comic recap #pr unlimited #the coinless

23 notes · View notes

phoenixwrites · 1 year

Note

I looked into some of their posts because I wanted to see the full info on both sides. I wanted to reach out to say they are really just something else. First, please know they are searching deep into your blog for your selfies and info that they can find, while who find one DID color over your face .... it's uncomfortable the territory they are on the fencing of. Stay safe. Second, I had a good cry as a csa and in general survivor too, because this is appalling, it's so freaking horrifying how YOU could be considered the same realm... they reblogged a PSA about someone else in ST fandom who writes genuine CSA like 6 year old x 20 year old Eddie, 12 year old x grown ass Steve and Billy, so on and not even all ST, but all is smut. A commenter was saying that they were going to write smut about a 12 month old. I wish I was joking or being dramatic. The someone claims they are writing it for their own trauma, but it really does not read from the screenshots of fic as such (vs how your posts seem missing context) I feel sick from seeing THAT callout post contents, THAT chilled me. I don't fucking know how you could be considered of the same cut like that kind of person ??? All over older Erica x Dustin ??? Like WHY deliberately take your asks and responses out of context, why are you evil for thinking about the characters grown, nothing to do with the actors? Yet they write self insert smut about teenaged Billy, Steve, so on. Include gifs of showering Billy. They seem hellbent on focusing on everything else, or maybe a personal projecting since they can't separate actor from character almost. Hell, even the camp counsellor Eddie x younger camper Chrissy fic they were blasting you for reading is different than freaking that someone's fics. This entire thing reads like a personal vendetta finding any morsel and making into some abomination. I'm so sorry you are dealing with this bullshit. Protect your peace and yourself from this insanity. Lots of love to you. This is long as crap so you don't have publish it, but I just felt like you deserved to know what was being said and compared.

Hi there! Thanks for your message. Seriously, guys, the support has been amazing and I can’t express how much I appreciate it.

I nosed through last night for a little bit but I think the benefit of my social media being very open over the years is…there’s not really much to find. I am far more boring than antis believe. Even my Erica fics will be particularly disappointing to those who are looking for ThoughtCrime—they are probably the tamest thing I’ve ever written. I will try to implement measures in case someone doxxes me or something.

I’m so sorry for you. I’m so sorry that you’re in this shitty club with me. I would not wish the flashbacks, the dehumanization, the guilt, the shame, the triggers, or the nightmares on anyone. The accusations they make about me are genuinely nauseating.

I’m not familiar with the other writer’s callout post you mentioned, but even if they are writing disturbing dead doves—we don’t know them. We don’t know why they wrote it, I don’t know their situation, I don’t know their reasoning, hell, it might all be out of spite. But I don’t want to “ugh look at this OTHER writer writing this gross stuff, YOU could NEVER be considered one of THEM”, you know?

I am not going to condemn a dead dove writer just because that is something I would never read. It’s words on a page. No one is harmed. As viscerally chilling and disturbing those plots are, they exist in the author’s brain. I don’t know WHY they exist in the author’s brain, if they’re processing their own shit or genuinely trying to titillate. I don’t really want to know either way. Either way is triggering to me. Either way, that is content that would make me throw up and I would avoid.

So I do the fucking ADULT thing and block those fics. Or ignore them. Ignoring them is a great tactic. Because I don’t know the author’s story and I would never try and assume that I do. I protect my own peace.

Another example. I have a weird trigger. It’s a trigger that is innocuous and harmless to most people. Some people really love the trigger. But I cannot abide it. I start having flashbacks. Anxiety attacks. Even just by SEEING this piece of media. And I feel a ton of shame for it because I blame myself, when actually it was my abuser’s fault. Not me. Not you. Never the victim. Ever.

But I do not expect tumblr to CATER to my trigger. I have this piece of media blocked on every social media site. I intentionally avoid it. My brother has even refused to accompany his friends on a Disneyworld trip because they were cosplaying as the Trigger and he didn’t want to trigger me. My community knows of it and they try very hard to use spoiler tags or ask others to spoiler it so I don’t interact with it. If I come on it accidentally (happened a lot during Philly, many breathing exercises were done and I had to step out a few times from the Artist’s Alley)

This is all MY responsibility. Not Tumblr’s. I cannot demand that every fic writer who writes about the Piece of Media that is a Trigger take it down for my own comfort, just because I am rightly and justly disturbed by it.

Oh, it is DEFINITELY a personal vendetta. Comes with the territory of any outspoken woman in fandom.

Your guys’ support means everything to me. And to all writers.

I’m sorry if this came off preachy or lecturing, I didn’t mean it that way. I just really, REALLY do not want people taking the mentality of “Phoenix isn’t writing this shit, but OTHER writers are, so let’s go harass them!” No.

Leave the dead dove writers alone. Leave all writers alone. If you do not like something, don’t read it, block the author, mute the tag, do whatever you can to protect your peace.

10 notes · View notes

eddiebillysteve · 2 years

Text

cat and mouse

(( harringroveson prison au )) chapter fourteen | find it on ao3 HERE

a/n | planning on uploading a chapter every saturday from here on out !! also don't forget to check out @leticheecopae's sister fic pit of vipers bcus it is SO good and connects so much to mine (and will even more as it progresses!) thank you for reading!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and comments!! :') aLSO would love to give a shoutout to my first ko-fi supporter because?? i could barely believe it!!! so a massive thank you to ada <333

warnings | anti-religion comments? if that's what it'd be called?, daddy kink, dom/sub themes, punishments, possessiveness, murder/suicide, drugs/failed overdose mention, steve being a gay panicked confused mess (this is a permanent tag), he's also being trained with candies and i'm not sorry about it, general prison talk, stuff like that !!

tag list | @whoringrove @darkandstormyslash @devotionsofmaryoliver @nowhereinthedenn @cherixsays - let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates or removed from the list !!

moodboard by @a-redharlequin !!

Breakfast hour was weird without Billy, even when they knew he was safe in his cell. Their table didn’t feel complete without him sitting at the head between Steve and Argyle. The empty spot haunted the four boys who were left, reminding them of Creel and his power and how he could so easily tear any of them apart.

Still, they made the most of it. Since Jonathan returned from being on watch, he and Steve chatted about anything and everything to fill the silence. Eddie told stories too, sometimes, but he was much more interested in listening to his baby’s sweet voice talking about Three’s Company or Duran Duran.

“How’s being nineteen?” Jonathan asked the morning after Steve’s birthday, taking a little spoonful of cereal.

“The same as being eighteen,” Steve joked. “Just really weird to know it was spent in here. My best birthday yet, don’t get me wrong, but–”

His voice came to a quick stop when someone was sitting beside him, sitting in Billy’s seat.

“Woah, brochacho,” Argyle immediately said, still somehow managing to sound relaxed, but Steve knew better. “Taken. Sit somewhere else.”

“Shit.”

Steve looked over at Eddie when the word stumbled out of his Papa’s mouth. They were staring at each other, Eddie and the blonde man that had sat down beside him, and the nervous look on Eds’ face made Steve nervous in turn. Really nervous.

“Your little boyfriend really thought he could get rid of me, Munson? He thinks I’m that big a threat, huh?” The blonde boy, who didn’t even look Argyle’s way, leaned in closer, almost over Steve to murmur his words to Eddie. “I know that little stunt was all him, so you can tell him you will pay for his mistake tonight.”

Carver was supposed to be dead, Eddie knew that much. He was on Creel’s side whether he considered himself to be or not, had used Eddie without Billy’s permission, and had to pay for his sins. He wasn’t supposed to have survived; Hagan had been told to subdue him and force enough product down his throat to have him overdose. Billy had told Eddie while in the infirmary, and Eddie had passed the message along to Argyle, who would vouch for him, at least.

The one that was really in trouble was Tommy for not doing exactly as he was told. Eddie, too, but because of how angry Jason was. He was desperate for revenge, nearly frothing at the mouth for it. Anyone within ten feet of him could see how he was refraining from throwing Eddie to the floor to start wailing on him.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life,” Jason hissed, and Steve leaned backward to try to put some space between him and the words. “You need to learn the word of the Lord, Munson. Maybe then you’ll understand why I’m not going anywhere. God only punishes sinners.”

“And you’re not a sinner? Aren’t you in here for beating the shit out of your girlfriend?” Eddie snorted and Jason standing up in two seconds.

Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, but he was up at the same time, standing between the two of them to block Jason from being able to reach for Eddie. It just happened, the same as if someone were to try to bully Dustin in front of him. His body reacted, went into protective mode. “Relax, man. I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, leaning back a bit to take Steve in. “Jesus, no one told me you’re getting fucked by two daddies now, Munson. Hargrove not good enough for you anymore? Just how loose have you gotten while I’ve been gone?”

“Right, nope. This isn’t happening,” Eddie stood up, shaking his head and waving his arms around. “Shut the fuck up, Carver. Think all those drugs you do have melted your brain. Didn’t know God let crackheads into Heaven these days.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispered, wanting him to calm down. He’d be in trouble if he got into a fight – not just with the guards but with Billy, too. “Everyone just… calm down. This is crazy.”

“You would both be quite wise to listen to him. This is a cafeteria, afterall, not a jungle. As feral as some of you may be, you are not animals. Sit and eat, or get to work.”

Every head in the room turned to look at the source of the too-calm voice that broke through the tension. Creel could silence a room just by walking into it, let alone speaking. Even the biggest, most muscular murderers were frightened of him.

“I will not repeat myself,” He said when no one moved, tilting his head the tiniest bit. Eddie immediately sat, grabbing Steve’s wrist to yank him down, too, and even Jason sat back down in Billy’s seat.

Creel had been the one to transfer him. He’d hand chosen him, had surveyed the prison up north for someone big enough – and potentially crazy enough – to give Billy a run for his money and to be a distraction of sorts. He’d told Jason what his job was, and what the consequences would be if he failed to do as he was told.

But even Jason wanted nothing to do with him.

“32566, it’s been too long,” Creel stepped forward, closer to their table, and Eddie’s grip tightened on Steve’s wrist where it was hidden from view. “Who’s your friend?”

Eddie couldn’t breathe. He’d succeeded in keeping Steve invisible until now, but his attempts had been futile. All because of Jason fucking Carver.

“Harrington,” Steve answered when Eddie didn’t speak, glancing nervously at his Papa.

“I don’t believe I was speaking to you, was I?” The guard’s voice was polite, but his eyes were so dark that they’d join the list of things haunting Steve’s nightmares. “32566, his number?”

“I don’t know it,” Eddie muttered, dropping his eyes from Creel to his tray.

“You don’t know it,” Creel sighed like he was disappointed. “Then we’ll just have to find out together, won’t we? Come along.”

This time it was Steve’s hand that was shifting to secretly grab onto Eddie’s wrist beneath the table, a feeble attempt to keep him from moving. After another breath, though, Eds moved to stand again.

“Not you, 32566.”

Eddie paused mid stance, almost frozen in place. He couldn’t take Steve, he was too delicate. He wouldn’t last two seconds alone with Creel. “I’ve got it. I can grab it. It’ll take me two seconds,” Eddie tried, daring himself to glance up and meet Creel’s eyes.

“Sit back down. I’ve finished speaking to you. Your friend may stand.”

He had never felt so helpless before. Steve standing beside him and not being able to stop him or do anything about it was a special kind of torture. The only thing he could do was watch as Steve followed Creel towards the cafeteria’s doors, sparing one frightened glance back to his Papa on the way.

Jonathan had gotten up and slipped out of the room the second Creel had made himself known, though. He’d run straight to get Billy, who was waiting outside the cafeteria doors for them, jaw clenched and steely eyed.

“Well, hello, 62097. I didn’t realize you were off of bed rest yet,” Creel stopped moving to stand in front of Billy, hands moving to fold in front of himself just like always. “I thought you were relieved from work duty until Monday morning.”

“That’s right,” Billy didn’t look at Steve, didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. “Just came to get a cup of coffee and heard you needed a number. Thought I’d save you the trip. 82894.”

Creel’s eyes narrowed.

“His number, Officer Creel. It’s 82894. Now there’s no reason for him to have a delayed start. I can only imagine how behind the laundry unit is without me there to keep everyone in line.” Billy's insides contorted in the same way they used to when he had to face his father while knowing he’d pay for it later, but he’d rather it be him than Steve or Eddie any day; Steve, in particular, would be crushed under a mere few words.

“How very helpful of you, 62097,” Creel replied; his voice was tight, irritated, and he pulled his hands apart long enough to gesture back towards the cafeteria. “You’re dismissed, 82894. You may leave.”

Steve gave Billy a look of pure gratitude before practically running back to Eddie. It felt like he’d been saved from a volcanic eruption – Billy had jumped in front of a bullet for him and would do it again without a second of hesitation.

Billy hadn’t met his eyes, though; he still didn’t acknowledge Steve, not even when he was scampering off. His blue eyes were stuck on Creel’s, the two of them refusing to look away from the other and be the first one to break.

“I shall walk you back to your cell, 62097. Make sure you get settled in properly again. It wouldn’t hurt to check up on your wounds, either, hm? Check to see if everything’s alright. Would be such a shame if you were to be out of work for a few weeks more by doing something stupid .”

“Yeah,” Billy cleared his throat. “It sure would.”

***

“One fucking thing, Hagan. Told you to do one fucking thing!”

Billy had burst into the laundry room a few hours into their shift. Two joints was all it took to get the guards to let him in and leave him alone with his crew for a bit. Their logic was that if Billy wanted to move around and fuck up his healing, he could. They weren’t going to babysit him, especially not if he was offering weed to get them to turn a blind eye.

“Holy fuck. I should beat your goddamn head in for being so fucking stupid!”

No one else in the room made a sound as Billy went off, Jonathan sitting with his hands over his ears. Billy was roaring, pacing around to keep himself from pinning Tommy to the wall. His anger wasn’t a full blown blind rage – it stemmed from fear.

Creel knew about Steve because of the fuck up and would know he was an easy target just like Jonathan by dinner hour. He was in panic mode, barely able to think though it. All he knew was that they were fucked – not just him, but all of them.

“Always comes back to me. Have to do fucking everything around here, useless fucking prick. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Eddie stepped in when Billy started to throw things around, cautiously walking up to him to touch his shoulders. “Bills, breathe,” He whispered, squeezing them tight. “Come here and sit down for a minute. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Don’t you tell me what to fucking do,” Billy snapped, shoving Eddie away, but there wasn’t any reaction from his old cellie. Eddie simply stepped forward again, reached for Bills’ wrists, and pulled him over to a chair when he wasn’t pushed away again.

“We need to think, yeah? So just – chill for a minute,” Eddie tried his best to soothe him without sounding condescending. “Steve’s fine, I’m fine. We’ll get Carver taken care of and then–”

“And then Creel’ll tear Steve to shreds for fun, and then what, huh? You don’t know shit about what he does, none of you do. Preppy fucking princess over there wouldn’t survive twenty seconds trapped in a cell with him,” Billy was up again, throwing his hands in the air, and Eddie glanced over at Steve.

If he hadn’t stood up, hadn’t tried to defend Eddie, everything may have been prevented.

“I have to kill him. Have to. It’ll never end,” Hargrove started up again, and Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I don’t give a shit if I get life. It’ll be worth it to see the life drain out of those fucking eyes.”

“Billy, stop. You can’t say shit like that,” Eddie went right back to him, voice shifting into something more pleading.

Argyle was up too then, reaching out to grab Billy’s arm. His grip was tight, unlike Eddie, and he shook him for a second. “No one’s getting life, man. Get it together. You can’t do shit if you’re worked up like this. Chill. Out. ”

With a shake of his head, Billy pulled his arm free and headed back towards the door. Talking about murder out in the open was a dangerous game – but everyone in the room could be trusted and the guards weren’t anywhere near. “This ends soon. I’m coming up with a goddamn plan to end him if it’s the last thing I do.”

***

“I want you to kneel down here, right between my legs, alright? Need to talk to you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He sat on the bottom bunk, spreading his legs open before guiding Steve down to kneel between them. His hands were gentle on Steve’s wrists, only letting him go to touch his shoulders to press him downwards.

Billy shifted on the top bunk until he was able to look down at them. He’d spent the entire afternoon plotting and writing too many drafts to Chrissy to try to relay his thoughts to her without getting flagged or Max realizing what he was thinking, and now the boys were back from work and dinner hour to keep him company again. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened in the cafeteria, but even through his anger he could tell Eddie wasn’t right when he’d stopped by earlier on. Something had upset him, and now he could tell that that something was Steve.

“I’m upset with you,” Eddie murmured, his hand going to pet Steve's hair. He nearly took the words back when he saw the way Steve’s entire face fell and his eyes started to water.

“I’m sorry,” He immediately started, but Eddie shook his head.

“No speaking yet, Stevie. You answer me when I ask you a question, but that’s it,” Eddie’s voice was even, calm, and his hand shifted again to massage his scalp. “I’m not angry, but I am upset. Do you know why?”

Steve took a second to think, desperately searching his mind to try to figure out what he could have done. He had been a good boy at work, hadn’t even cowered when Billy started throwing things. “Because I… I went with the guard?” He guessed, looking back up at him.

“No,” Eddie slipped his hand from Steve’s hair, moving it downwards to hold his chin. “What did you do during breakfast? After Carver joined us. Tell me what happened, exactly what you did.”

Even though he was trying, Steve couldn’t remember what he’d done wrong. His fingers reached for Eddie’s sweats, fiddling with them as his eyes dropped to look at his torso. “I was–”

“Ah, ah. Eyes up here. On me, baby,” Eddie tipped his chin upwards to emphasize his words, and Steve forced his eyes back up.

Billy was absolutely perplexed on the top bunk. He’d punished Eddie hundreds of times over the years, but he’d never sat him down to talk first, not like this. He’d have him kneel for conversations often enough, have him naked and waiting on his knees for him, but there was something so intimate about the scene before him, something so gentle. It made his breath catch in his throat.

After sucking in a breath, Steve spoke again. “I was just eating and he sat down,” The words came out cautiously, like he was worried he was going to say the wrong thing, and his eyes flickered over Eddie’s face. He was trying to watch for a reaction, any sort of hint that he was doing good or bad. “And I was afraid he was going to hurt you and then the guard came.”

“Getting closer,” Eddie nodded, encouraging him to keep going. “What did you do when you were afraid he was going to do something to me?”

Oh.

Eddie saw the realization spread over Steve’s face – and then the nervousness that followed it. “I stood up to block you behind me.”

“Right. There we go. And what did you put yourself in when you did that?” Eddie raised his eyebrows a touch.

“A bad situation?”

It was hard for Eddie to resist smiling at how small and shaky Steve’s voice was. Even though he was frightened, it wasn’t in the same way he’d been frightened of Billy. It made Eddie realize Steve trusted him. “ Exactly. A bad situation. A dangerous situation. You intentionally put yourself in harm's way.”

“But I didn’t mean to. I was just there, and I thought he was–”

“Shh,” Eddie cooed. “You have to learn not to do it again. And how do you think we should do that? How should I teach you, what’s a good punishment?”

If his Papa wasn’t so calm, Steve would have been in full blown panic mode. He would have been convinced he was getting an M to match the H on his arse, and would have started to choke on his own fear and beg for mercy, but Eddie didn’t have Billy’s temper. His hands weren’t rough, he wasn’t squeezing too tight – if anything, his thumb was smoothing over Steve’s jaw, silent encouragement for him to answer the question.

“I don’t know,” He shook his head a bit.

Billy had some ideas from the top bunk, but he kept his mouth shut, staying silent to see just what Eddie was planning on doing.

“I’m sure you can come up with something, Stevie. Think for a minute.”

Steve let out a soft little sigh. He didn’t know anything about punishing other people – the most he would do to ‘punish’ Dustin when he acted up was lecture him about safety, maybe take away one of his little figurines or science experiments for a day. It gave him something to go off of, at least.

“Maybe no sweets? For today?”

“Just for today?” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, physically couldn’t contain it. “It’s past seven o’clock. We’ve got less than two hours before lights out, I think that’d be a pretty tame punishment, but good boy for coming up with something.”

Eds didn’t know what was going to happen when he went back to his cell; Jason was going to be pissed as fuck, but he didn’t know if that would mean he’d get the shit beat out of him or if he’d have to listen to the blonde read out from his bible the entire night. He’d prefer the former, he decided. Anything but the fucking preaching.

“I think we can start with sweets. No sweets for two days,” Eddie decided, but then he paused to ponder for a second. “Open up Daddy’s drawer, pick some out.”

Steve hesitated, looking at Eddie for a moment, and then up to the top bunk. Billy raised his eyebrows just a smidge, challenging him to disobey Eddie’s orders, but Steve wouldn’t dare. He obeyed, opening Billy’s compartment underneath his bunk that held all the fun items. His drawer was only ever used their clothes, and everything else was kept in Billy’s. There were all the snacks, the makeup he’d just gotten for his birthday, a couple of books. He got out two packets, one of his favorite gummy bears and another that was a hard kind, before sliding the cubby back in.

“Good boy. Now open them,” Eddie instructed some more, and Steve’s face contorted in confusion before he tore the packages of candy open. “And dump them into the toilet.”

“What? No!” The words came out before Steve could stop them, hands tightening around the plastic packages. “That’s such a waste, you can’t just–”

“It’s not a waste if it’s teaching you a lesson. You put yourself in dangerous situations, and you lose your rewards,” Eddie leaned in further to him and his voice dropped down a bit. “Pour them into the toilet, baby. And then you’re going to flush them. It might help you remember not to try to play the hero next time. Daddy and Papa don’t need protection, okay?”

Billy hadn’t been expecting to find Eddie in dominant mode such a turn on, but he did. He wanted to bend him over the bottom bunk and rail him until Papa was screaming like a pretty little whore.

After another few moments, Steve stood up with a sigh and went to stand above the toilet. It may have seemed like a silly punishment, but it wasn’t just candy he was having to flush. It felt like he was having to flush that addictive feeling that came with them, the feeling all the praise gave him. It made him feel horrible, like he’d done something so wrong, like he’d been bad, and if he stayed bad, they wouldn’t want him anymore. He had to be good, had to listen and be who they wanted him to be so they would just stay, so they would love him and be his family for real instead of playing pretend like it was all bullshit. Even if Billy could be rough sometimes, and even if he didn’t want to do everything they told him he had to, they wanted him, usually so much that they didn’t care if he wanted them back. Eddie didn’t pull his hand away when Steve reached to hold one, Billy didn’t turn him down when he asked him to climb down and sleep with him after the lights went out and his thoughts took over. He didn’t want to lose it, lose them, like he’d lost everyone else.

It was a feeling he didn’t want to feel again. It was the complete opposite to the high he normally got from the candy and praise.

The hard ones were dumped first, the sound of them clinking against the metal toilet filling the cell for a few moments. Then, after another glance at Eddie, he dumped the gummies in, too.

“Go on,” Eds prodded, and as Steve flushed the sweets away, Billy jumped down from the top bunk.

It definitely wasn’t any sort of punishment he would have given – he was more into the physical kind – but Steve did look upset, the wheels in his head turning and clearly overthinking the entire thing as if he’d just flushed half his soul instead of two small packages of candy that barely cost forty cents a piece.

“I want you to think about this then next time you feel the need to step in,” Eddie reached out to twist Steve around until he was facing him and Billy. “We protect you. We look after you. Not the other way around. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Steve mumbled.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Papa. I understand,” His cheeks turned red and Eddie brought his fingers up to brush over them.

“Good boy. Now strip.”

Billy raised his eyebrows then, watching Eddie reach out to pry the packages from Steve’s hands to toss into the garbage so their boy could start peeling his clothes off. He’d left his hesitancy over being naked behind while Billy was gone, and was far more used to being nude. Still, he didn’t know what Eddie’s plans were, his own ideas running through his mind at a mile a minute.

Even though he wouldn’t look at them as he peeled his clothes off, Steve stripped down to his underwear before them. Once he was clad only in his briefs, hands not really sure what to do with themselves, he looked between both men, waiting for more instructions.

“I think he should have something to remind him of what he’s done tonight, don’t you, Bills?” Eddie asked, still keeping his eyes on Steve. “Take them off, too, Stevie. I’ve got an idea.”

“I’m starting to like your ideas, sweetheart,” Billy laughed through his nose, eyes following the underwear as the fabric slid down Steve’s legs.

“I’m full of good ones. Could’ve shared them a long time ago if you’d of let me indulge this side,” Eddie joked. He held his hand out for them, curling his fist around them. “I’m going to make a mess in these, and Daddy’s going to make a mess all over you, and you’re going to sleep in it, yeah? And then, when we go to the showers tomorrow morning, everyone’ll see what a mess you are before you wash it off.”

“Well, shit, Eds,” Billy laughed softly and Steve’s eyes went wide. “Couldn’t have come up with anything better myself. Didn’t know you were into humiliating pretty boys.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Hargrove,” Eddie teased. “I take it this sounds good with you, then? You approve?”

“Yeah, baby. I approve. All sounds good to me,” Billy pulled Eddie in for a kiss before nodding towards the bottom bunk. “Get on your bed, Stevie. On your back. Spread those lovely legs for me.”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears a little bit at the idea, but he shifted past Eddie to do as he was told. He laid on his bunk, bending his legs at the knees and spreading them wide so Billy could stand between them at the edge and duck down enough to look in at him. It prevented Billy from having to get atop him and put any strain on his body – he could simply stand up straight and jack off above him, let his load out over Steve’s cock. It started to stir to life when Billy looked down at him, tongue snaking out over his lips as he got his cock out.

Normally, Billy was against wanking off – he had no desire to, not when he had two babies with four holes and four hands between them – but he reminded himself that it served a purpose this time.

“You’re gonna fall asleep with Daddy and Papa’s cum all over you, princess. Going to absolutely ruin your panties,” Billy muttered, more to himself. Steve felt around with one arm for the bears that lived on his bed all day. “You’re real lucky that Papa is so kind and gentle with you. I would have beat your ass bluer than that silly bear for doing something so stupid. But it’s okay, you can be a stupid baby. Only thing you have to worry about is pleasing us, we’ll teach you the rest,” He grunted, jutted his hips a little harder into his hand, before stopping and reaching for Steve’s, instead. Once Steve wrapped his hand around his thick cock, Billy covered it with his own to guide him along, setting the pace. “When I’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is cock and candy and those bears, baby boy. Gonna be a perfect pet for us by the time we get out of here. Might get you a leash and everything when we get out, keep you close and spread open for whenever I need you. I think you’d like it more than you think, Stevie. Never having to worry about working, or bills, or any responsibility, your sole purpose to please. It’s what you’re good for, you know? Looking pretty and being a few tight holes for me. Can’t wait to finally tear that tiny little ass apart, fuck.”

The words didn’t hold any meaning, not to Billy. He wasn’t serious – of course Steve would be his pet, their pet, but it wasn’t all he was good for. There wasn’t a doubt in Billy’s mind that Steve would go on to be some sort of big deal when he was released, maybe a teacher or something with kids, but gushing about his faith in his pets wasn’t exactly his thing even if it somehow would have made for good dirty talk. In no way did he think his baby was stupid or incapable, he thought Steve was bright and clever and fun to be around, but he didn’t realize that Steve considered himself such. He didn’t know Steve’s insecurities and trauma and issues, didn’t know that words of him being a mindless sex pet would bother him.

He just didn’t see himself as being good for a lot of things. He didn’t consider himself to be smart, or clever, and he clearly couldn’t consider himself strong if he let Billy treat him like a bitch from day one. Even before getting locked up, he didn’t have much hope for his future, and it was even worse as the days went on. The only thing he felt good for was obeying them, and Eddie being upset with him had him questioning even that.

“Don’t cry, Princess,” Billy’s voice shifted to a coo, free hand leaving Steve’s thigh to reach and wipe his cheeks. “You just gotta learn, that’s all. That’s why we’re here, to train you real good. Go on, say it. Tell us you’re gonna be our perfect little pet.”

When he didn’t immediately repeat the words, Billy came to a pause, stopping his hips and keeping his hand still.

“Stevie. Say it. Tell Daddy you’re going to be such a good pet that all our friends are gonna be jealous, wish you were theirs. Maybe I’ll share you, train you to love it just like Papa. The more cocks you go though, the better. It’s what your body needs.”

“I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be your perfect pet.”

Eddie let out a stifled groan from his place behind Billy at Steve’s shaky voice, almost immediately releasing into the underwear he was jacking himself off into. He’d been silently listening to Billy’s words and the sound of their hands around Billy’s cock as he got himself off; it hadn’t taken long after getting to look down at Steve on his knees for him. The image was enough wanking fuel for the next three weeks, at least.

“Good boy. I know you will. Did you hear that? You got Papa off,” Billy started to move their hands again, shifting his feet to position himself so he could spurt over Steve’s cock, his pubic hair, his thighs. He wanted to make a real mess of it just like Eddie had pictured.

As he got closer, Eddie moved to toss the soiled underwear onto the bunk beside Steve before sliding his arms around Billy’s waist from behind. The act made him stiffen at first, but he relaxed when Eds dug his nails into his skin.

“You close, Daddy?” Eddie murmured, resting his chin on Billy’s shoulder so he could look down at Steve, too. “Jesus, just look at him. Those big eyes. Can’t believe he’s all ours.” Billy grunted at the words, a signal for him to keep going. “Look how pretty they are when they’re filled with tears, Bills. You think he’ll cry real hard when you fuck him? I’ll get him all ready for you. Stretch him open, have him waiting to be filled right up.”

Eddie slid his hand downwards, pushing their hands away until he could take over the motion and finish getting him off. He felt like he knew what his man liked better than Billy himself did, could milk the grunts and groans out of him with ease. When he came, Eddie was sure to get it just where he wanted it, and then proceeded to smear it along Steve’s cock afterwards. He wanted it to be uncomfortable, for Steve to feel the stickiness whenever he shifted.

“Good boy. Now we put these back on, and you’re getting into bed,” Eddie murmured once Billy had backed up and out of the way, working to get Steve’s underwear back up and over his legs. Even though he was blinking out tears, Steve was hard, but Eds shook his head at him. “You don’t get to get off. Not tonight. If you ask Daddy after lights out, he might let you hump one of the bears, but you’re not getting off. You’re already too much of a mess as it is.”

His voice was gentle, kind, and he wiped Steve’s tears as he spoke, words followed by a kiss to his forehead. “Come on, into bed. I’ve got to go before they come and drag me away.”

It drove him insane, not being able to stick around and crawl into bed with his baby. He missed bunking with Billy – some of their deepest conversations always came in the dead of night. It sucked having to leave them every single day, even more so when he had to go back to Jason Carver.

He said goodnight to Steve one more time before standing up straight and looking at his old cellie. “Night, Bills. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He yanked Eddie in for a kiss before shoving him towards the cell door. “Get out of here before you’re thrown into isolation, Eds. Tell Carver he’ll be meeting Jesus Christ himself tomorrow if he lays a hand on you tonight. I’ll even end him in the prison’s chapel so he doesn’t have as long of a trip to hell.”

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #henry creel #harringrove #harringroveson #harringrove au #steddie #steddie au #harringrove fic #billy hargrove fic #how does one even tag anything #isn't it only the first five that count anyway lmfao #my writing

26 notes · View notes

lookstairs · 2 years

Text

Black Adam (2022)

*****SPOILERS ****

Now I heard a lot of mixed reviews about this one but I tried to go into it with an open mind

First we got the good parts

I liked the Justice society

Hawkman, Dr fate, Cyclone and Atom smasher were great

I thought the little scenes between Hawkman and Atom were funny

Cyclones powers were really fun to see in action

The character or Amon was nice to. His excitement to meeting Black Adam reminded me of Freddy from Shazam (2019)

Sadly the characters and actors were the best part of an otherwise meh movie

Black Adam was portrayed as this big bad all powerful being

Especially in his first scenes where he kills all the Intergang agents

But he quickly becomes more of an anti hero after saving the main female character Adrianna

The character of Adrianna was confusing. I mean in the beginning she seemed like a courageous freedom fighter who’s just trying to keep her son safe

But then she just takes Adam back to her home ?? I mean she just saw him kill a bunch of people so maybe it’s best to leave him be

I know they see him as a Champion but if a 5000 year old being flew out of a mountain you run the other way

Things just seem to move fast the whole time

We then cut to the justice society and see a very quick “assemble the team” montage but it really doesn’t give the audience anything

I mean this is the first time we’re seeing these heroes but we’re only given bits and pieces about them

Atom Smasher is apparently new to the whole hero thing but it’s barley brought up? I mean is this the best starting mission for him

Then when they go fight Black Adam and it’s revealed that Adam is actually a bad guy who’s rage almost destroyed Kahndaq

But still there’s no real confusion from Adrianna or Amon, I mean they’ve only known Adam a day but they’re willing to risk everything to back him up

Amon I get cause he’s a superhero loving kid but I expected Adrianna to be more hesitant around him at least

As always though everything’s just brushed away when it’s revealed that it was Black Adams son who was the real Champion but he gave up his powers to save Adam from dying

Anyways a bunch of stuff happens which I don’t really wanna type out

The action scenes are cool though

It ends with the Justice Society letting Black Adam go?? (I don’t think Waller would be cool with that)

And black Adam becoming the protector of Kahndaq

NOW I personally love a good villain movie and was really hoping that’s what this was gonna be but it seemed to be a redemption story

Which I guess isn’t bad but it could’ve been executed better

A villain Black Adam would’ve been really cool to see though

Honestly in the beginning that’s where I thought this was going

When Adam first saved Adrianna I thought it was cause she had the Crown of Sabbac and he wanted it for something

And when he was at their apartment I thought the only reason he gave Amon the time of day was because Amon kept praising him

I really held on to the fact that Black Adam is a Shazam villain and was just waiting for him to show that side but it never happened

He killed people yeah but he killed the bad guys so he was still the hero

This movie definitely suffered from its fast pace

If they had just given the Justice Society more depth or given the characters more background (Adrianna mentions a couple times that her husband was killed by intergang but I don’t remember Amon saying anything about it like isn’t that his dad?)

This movie could’ve been a lot better

The action sequences were cool and all but there needs to be a good story

I really wanted to see more background on the magic behind Black Adams powers

If he got his powers from the wizards does he know about Billy?

While I really liked some parts the only thing this movie had going for it is the cast

I would’ve honestly preferred a more Justice Society focused movie then so much Black Adam destroying stuff

Overall it was just Ok

#black adam #dcu #shazam #shrewviews

2 notes · View notes

stealthylikeninja · 2 years

Text

I don’t know how I’ve got onto anti-billy posts (I mean I do know, because they constantly occupy his fucking tag and obsess over everyone who likes him) but they are absolutely fucking vile. I feel like I should clean my eyes with a bleach for the amount of bullying and hateful behaviour they display. With the way they act you would think that Billy is comparable to fucking H*tler, not to mention the jabs at how other fans are ‘clearly’ racists and abusive because they like his character. Or how they lack media literacy? Is it me, or does that make no fucking sense? As far as I’m aware liking Hannibal doesn’t make you a human flesh connoisseur, liking Joker doesn’t make you a fucking crazy murderer clown, and liking Loki doesn’t make you a semi-genocidal demi-god. It’s fucking fiction, it doesn’t exist, liking someone doesn’t translate to being like that fucking person (it really should be a general motto of this fandom, because people forget or don’t understand that simple stupid fact).

Both of these examples just scream lack of media literacy, if not to go as far as to say lack of critical thinking skills. “Main character you are supposed to like” - so basically we are taking everything surface level, no deeper thoughts, no nothing? Just blindly guided by who you are supposed to like and who you are not supposed to like because show told you to do that?(even though it didn’t actually tell you shit, but go off) Are you able to form a single opinion that comes from your own thought process or do you just do everything someone else tells you to do?

Not to mention, fireworks and applause for a teenage, abused character to die a gruesome death after being literally mentally tortured and controlled by an inter-dimensional monster. You should get a Nobel Peace Price for your clear ability to empathise with anyone (I know, I know, you were not told to do that, it’s hard to form your own critical opinions). Just go around bullying an extremely fucking safe part of the fandom that does nothing wrong to anyone, and just posts their silly little stories and concept arts and protects other characters that are being bullied by this kind of toxic ST fans. What a puritan fucking moral warrior behaviour, absolutely vile.

#trigger warning: antis #billy hargrove #fuck off from this tag if you dont like billy #its that simple #ITS REALLY THAT FUCKING SIMPLE #stop going around throwing the word racism at people that gave no proof of being one #not to mention how many times you direct it to poc billy fans #media literacy who?#critical thinking who?#abolity to think for yourself and analyse the media beyond the surface level who?#puritan bullshit #get off your moral high horse darling you are fucking bully #and you are toxic to this whole fucking fandom making it a big pile of shit #i said it once and i will say it again #billy antis suck #harringrove #tell me you are jason stan/apologist without telling me you are #that actually looks very similar to jasons behaviour in the show #its a fucking witch hunt based on fuck all

55 notes · View notes

cc-tinslebee · 2 years

Text

If I’m being totally honest, I don’t even like Billy Hargrove that much. I’m just realising that.

I’ll defend his character not because I believe his actions were justified, but because very few people view his character as that of an abuse victim, a broken kid who grew up in a static, violent, homophobic and racist household, where he couldn’t grow as a person because his basic emotional needs were not being met. Billy antis cut out a HUGE part of his character. That’s what upsets me.

But his personality? Eh. It leaves much to be desired. Billy certainly has a lot of pretty privilege in the fandom, and I was not immune to that. I recognise that now.

Really, what I like about Billy Hargrove is the potential. The fandom’s Billy, if you will.

The Billy that’s a member of the party, that could banter with Steve while fighting demogorgons.

The one that would bicker with Dustin.

The one who could have the “you’re not good enough for my sister, end. of. story.” “… 🎶so why don’t you give me one more chance🎶” dynamic with Lucas.

The one that would be annoyed at Erica’s sass but admire her spirit.

The Billy that would be hyped at Nancy’s badassery, and be snarky with Robin (who engages wittingly, but is also lowkey terrified of him).

The Billy that protects Max, El, and Will and takes them under his wing.

I miss and love the Billy that Max wanted, the one she could’ve had. The brother that made her resonate with “if only I could, I’d make a deal with god, and I’d get him to swap our places.” (Because she must’ve believed he could change.)

I guess it’s like Dear Evan Hansen and the fandom. People would ship Connor and Evan, but the thing was, that wasn’t Connor. It was the Connor that Evan made up. Connor could’ve very well had the potential to fit somewhere into that narrative had things gone differently, but something about that reality would be different from the stories the Evan — and the fandom — we know told. Because that was our perception of Connor twisted to meet our narratives. Not Connor as he was.

I don’t love Billy Hargrove as he was. I love him as what he could’ve been.

And for the longest time, I thought harringrove was neat. I still do! It’s one of those cool little “what ifs” I like to explore sometimes. Not because I think they deserve each other or I think they’re soulmates. It’s just… a couple that would be interesting. A reformed minor antagonist helping another little-less-minor antagonist becoming a better person by giving him a safe, caring environment in himself. Steve knowing what it’s like, on a much different scale but nonetheless having sympathy/empathy for Billy’s situation. That’s what appeals them to me (as well as Joe Keery and Dacre Montgomery’s chemistry).

21 notes · View notes

anagentinwriting · 3 years

Text

Lifeline - Part 17

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 3800+

Warnings: Angst, violence, suspense, kidnapping

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Nat kept a watchful eye on Thor when he came back to the waiting room. He was twirling his phone in his hand when his eyes connected with hers; He shot her a hard glare before shaking his head. She grimaced, letting out a scoff and stood up a little straighter. She turned her attention back to assist Clint with asking routine questions to Bucky, Carol, and Val. Bucky’s eyes connected with hers, and he reached out, taking her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. She nodded, putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

Nat tried to focus on doing her job, but she was too close to this. You were one of her best friends, and she was scared for you in this situation. She wanted to believe what Thor was saying about Jig and Billy being the same person, but she needed proof or some sort of evidence, pointing them in that direction. Steve’s phone was the key to this, but she couldn’t go through it in case they needed it to use against him in court. She didn’t have a problem with lying, but if the defense found out what she did, she would be screwed and possibly lose her job. Billy deserved to be locked up for everything he did to you, and that cell phone would be another reason on a long list of reasons to lock him up. She wanted to protect you like Thor did, but it needed to be done right.

“Natasha,” Thor shouted, forcing her head to snap in his direction. He was heading their way with Sam behind him. “Sam can confirm Billy and Jig are the same person. He met Jig once.”

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest. “Is this true, or are you making it up?”

“It’s true,” Sam nodded. “I met him one night at Happy’s. It was a quick meeting, but you don’t forget that white boy’s pretty face.”

Nat’s mouth dropped open, covering it with her hand in shock. Bucky was beside her, placing a reassuring hand on the small of her back. She looked over at him with tearful eyes as her mind drifted to the worst-case scenario. Bucky pulled her into a hug, and everything around her became white noise.

Billy got to you; he abducted you and almost killed Steve in the process. She squeezed her eyes shut, pulling Bucky closer. How did this happen? How did he even find you? How long has he been here? What was going to happen to you? All these unanswered questions flooded her mind until everything went silent. This was what she needed, evidence to find you and bring you home safe. Her eyes snapped open, pulling away from Bucky. She smirked at him, and his blue eyes narrowed at her.

“Keep me updated on Steve, will you?” She whispered, putting her hands on his cheeks.

He nodded. “As long as you do the same with YN.”

She kissed him, turning around and catching Thor’s eye. “Thor, let’s go.”

“Wait, what? Where?” Thor was looking between everyone as if asking if they had the answers.

“To find your sister, but we may have to ask for a little help.”

“But, I thought you weren’t technically on the case?”

“Small technicality. Nick will forgive me; I’m one of his favorites,” she winked, and Clint nodded in agreement. “Besides, I’m also a concerned friend of the victim, and I’m just following a possible lead. It could lead to something, or it might not.” Nat shrugged, looking over to Clint. “Cover for me?”

“It’s what I do best.”

“Let’s go get this bastard,” Thor stated, giving Nat a forgiving nod.

__________

The soft melody coming from the radio woke you up, but you didn’t move. A breeze hit your face, and the smell of the ocean hit your nose. A calm sensation came over you as you moved ever so slightly, feeling your hands bound, restricting your movement. Taking in another breath, a hint of familiar cologne came to your senses. You gulped, turning your head to what you hoped was a window. A sharp pain hit the side of your face, making you wince, causing your eyes to flicker open. The car sat parked near the ocean, and you could see the sun rising in the distance, cascading a soft glow over the landscape. You glanced at your hands, seeing a zip tie wrapped around them. You gulped, looking over to the driver’s seat to find your ex-husband wrapping his wrist. Your eyes widened as your mind flashed to him on the other side of the door, Steve laying motionless on the ground, the struggle in your condo, Cosmo attacking, and a punch to your face that knocked you out cold.

“Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?”

“What… what did you do?” You stammered, feeling tears start to form in your eyes.

He smirked, taping the gauze on his wrist. “I think the better question is what did you do?” You narrowed your eyes, wincing as a sharp pain traveled alongside your face. Your hand shot to your face, touching the tender area between your eye and cheekbone. “I warned you what would happen if you left. People would get hurt, but you didn’t listen.”

“Is he dead?”

“Who? Steve? Would it make a difference if he was?” He quirked an eyebrow as your bottom lip trembled, staring out the window at the ocean. “I wouldn’t worry about him anymore.”

“Why did you do that?” Your voice cracked as a sob escaped from your mouth. “He was a good man.”

“Steve was a great guy. I didn’t want to hurt him. I liked Steve. He was one helluva pool player, and we were friends,” he paused, your head snapping in his direction. “But, when he put his hands on you. I wanted to kill him.” Billy clenched his fists, shaking his head. “Steve doesn’t deserve you. He was never good enough for you. Hell, he was just using you to get over his dead wife.” He let out a breath, his dark brown eyes connected with yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “If you stayed home and didn’t leave me, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Steve wouldn’t be dead because of you.”

Your stomach dropped, with tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes shut as the sharp pain radiating from your cheek was welcoming compared to what you were feeling inside. You swallowed down a sob, but your shaky breath didn’t dissipate. Your head clouded up, blocking out any other sound besides your racing heart. You slowly opened your eyes, trying to blink the tears away, but a few escaped down your cheeks and landed on your jeans. You stared at the wet droplets, unable to move, only being able to concentrate on your breathing. You sniffled, clearing your throat. “How long have you been watching me?”

“Does it matter?” He arched a brow at you. “I will give you some credit though, leaving that note saying you and Loki took an impromptu trip together. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I mean, you two are attached at the hip, so I knew you would be back in a few days, but you never did come home. Even after I saw Loki’s posts about being back home, but still no you. ” He leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

“The most frustrating part of all was that you never returned my calls, which led me straight to Loki, and he told me you were staying with him for a few more days. I thought, ‘Alright. I get it. You want some time.’” He sighed, shaking his head. “After a few more days of no new texts and no returned phone calls. I decided to sneak into Loki’s and quickly realized you weren’t staying there. In fact, it looked like you were never there. Then I proceeded to go to your work, which I now realized I should’ve done to begin with because I discovered you quit.” He paused, hitting the steering with your palm, making you jump in your seat.

“It was embarrassing to find out your wife left you in front of her co-workers.” He clenched his jaw, staring daggers at you. “This led to me tracking your phone, but it never did tell me where you were.” He smirked. “I am almost positive it involved an anti-tracker app. Smart play.” He nodded. “Nice to know you learned a few things from me during our time together, but I’m surprised you didn’t think I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

“Who's to say I didn’t,” you countered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

He cackled in the seat next to you, shaking his head, and in one quick motion grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him. You tried to jerk away, but he tightened his hold. All the mischief in his eyes was gone, replaced with his harsh gaze. He clenched his jaw, making you gulp and stare into the depths of his emotionless eyes. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Running off to your big brother, thinking he would protect you. It’s cute really, but deep down, he didn't do his job the first time, let alone this time. He didn’t protect you. He didn’t keep you safe. It’s comical, just how easy it was to get you back.” He scoffed, licking his lips. “And Loki’s all the same. They’re both egoistic, self-absorbed, and out for themselves. It’s poetic, how you were always there for them, but they were never there for you like I was.” He reached over and dragged his fingers against your cheek. You clenched your jaw, pulling away from his touch.

“What do you want from me?” You mumbled, observing him from the corner of your eye.

He sighed, dropping his hand. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to come home where it is safe. Come home to someone who actually cares about you. My god, YN, you have no idea how much I have missed you and….and I’m sorry,” he confessed as his voice cracked. Your head snapped in his direction to see him running a hand through his hair. “I was an asshole for how I treated you, and I can’t believe I became that person.” His gaze caught yours, noticing his lips trembling. “I told you I would change, but I didn’t, and I don’t know why.” He paused, clearing his throat. “I want to change, but I don’t think I can do it without you. I need you. You have always believed in me more than I believed in myself. I don’t want to lose what we have together. Please come home to me. I forgive you for running. I want to start over, start fresh, start that family you always wanted. Anything; I will do anything,” he begged with tears on the verge of falling.

You swallowed, staring wide-eyed at him, not knowing what to say. Billy has always been a confident talker, telling you what you wanted to hear and making all the right promises. He could coax you into coming back every time you left him with his caring apologetic words. You believed you could trust him time and time again. He could persuade you into getting what he wanted, not what you wanted.

You rubbed your lips together, knowing what you should say or at least what he wanted you to say. But, you didn’t need him anymore, like he needed you. You moved on, and in this moment, he couldn’t control you anymore. “I want to start a family, Billy.” His shoulders sank in relief as a smile crossed his features. “But, I don’t want it with you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Our relationship is a repeating pattern that causes both of us pain. I can’t do this with you anymore,” you breathed, your eyes flickering to his; they changed from sincere and honest to dark and destructive in a matter of seconds.

He brought his hand down his face, shaking his head. “You don’t get to say when this is over. I do.” He let out a deep breath and slapped you across the face. You yelped, sending a shooting pain down your same cheek, bringing tears to the corner of your eye. You leaned away from him, reaching for the door handle, and tried to push it open, but he grabbed a hold of you and held a knife to your throat.

“STOP MOVING,” he grunted through clenched teeth. You quit squirming and stared at the blade against your throat. “It didn’t have to come to this. ” He clenched his jaw, grabbing the passenger seat belt and strapped you in. He leaned forward, his breath fanning against your ear as he whispered, “I have a plan, but unlike yours, it will work.”

____________

Thor and Nat walked through the doors of your dispatch center. Thor’s eyes scanned the many individuals typing away at their screens and talking into their headpieces. It was a different scene than what he was used to. It felt calmer and less hectic, but on the other end of the calls, he could only imagine what people were going through.

Bruce made eye contact with them, holding up his pointer finger as he helped one of the dispatchers at their desk.

“Bruce, busy man,” Thor chuckled, and Nat hummed in agreement.

“Thor, Nat, hi. Any news? Have the police found anything?” Bruce asked, walking over to them.

“Don’t get me started on the police. At YN house, they were walking around finding clues and placing their little yellow numbers by them, and taking pictures. Like, what is that going to do? They should be out looking for her since I already told them who abducted her, but no one believed me.” Thor shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Calm down, big guy, it’s called procedure, and we were finding evidence.” Nat patted him on the shoulder before turning to Bruce. “Anyways, we came to ask for a favor, and we think you could help us with it.”

“Name it,” Bruce nodded, putting his hands in his pockets.

“We need to track this number, but the fastest way without a warrant is to go through dispatch, or so I heard,” Nat hinted, raising her eyebrows.

“What is it? Landline or cell phone?”

“Cell phone.”

“Cell phones are trickier since we don’t get an automatic address like we do with landlines. Our system has to digitally request the phone’s location from the cellular network. I will have to put in a manual request, which won’t be a problem, it will just take some time,” Bruce stated, going over to one of the computers. “What’s the number?” Thor read the number off his phone as Bruce typed it in and quickly filled in the necessary information.

___________

Billy pulled into a gas station and parked the car behind it. He reached behind your seat, hearing him shuffle around and come forward with a scissor, wet nap, and a baseball cap. He cupped your face in his hands, using the wet-nap to wipe your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring the pain on your cheek. “There’s my girl, all cleaned up.” He lifted your head with his finger and tilted it in all directions. He grabbed ahold of your bound hands, cutting the zip tie from your wrists. “Put this hat on, and just know, if you run, you don’t want to know what I will do.”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. He squeezed your hands before getting out of the car and coming around the front to get you. He opened the door, instantly putting his arm around your shoulder, leaning into you. You tensed up, smelling the all-to-familiar cologne that sent your nerves firing in warning. It was a cologne you loved, having picked out for him when you first started dating, but now it filled your head with many unpleasant memories.

“Loosen up, hon, you can trust me,” he whispered in your ear, hitting the bill of your hat, making you readjust it.

You gave him a hard nod, forcing a tight smile. He let go of you as someone was walking out, holding the door for the two of you. You looked the man straight in the face, hoping he would take a look at you and help in some way, but Billy mumbled a quick thanks and took your hand. You glanced at the guy behind the register, but he stared down at his phone while Billy dragged you to the drink coolers.

“What do you want?”

“Can I run to the bathroom? Can’t pick anything on a full bladder,” you smirked, squeezing his hand.

“Of course, make it quick,” he nodded, letting go of your hand.

You walked back up the aisle and down another, glancing at the man behind the counter, who was still staring down at his phone. Keeping a watchful eye on Billy, you snatched a set of permanent markers from the shelf and hid them in the front of your pants and under your shirt. You took one last peek over your shoulder to see Billy’s eyes following you and opened the door to the ladies restroom.

You locked the door and leaned against it, taking in your surroundings, but there was nothing that could help you. It was a single stall bathroom with no windows. How come the only bathrooms that ever seemed to have windows were in the movies. You sighed, rubbing your forehead. There weren’t many options left: leave a note and hope someone sees it and gets help. It felt silly, but what did it hurt? You pulled the markers from the front of your pants and grabbed a brown paper towel, scribbling out a message and placing it by the sink along with the markers.

Gripping the edge of the bathroom counter, you let out a deep breath, staring down into the semi-dirty sink. You removed your hat, running your hand through your hair, and looked up at your reflection in the mirror. It was like you were right back to where you started, staring at the fragile woman you thought you left behind. The color around your right eye was changing to a dark black and blue, your cheek was puffy, and there was a small cut on your lip.

“You can get through this,” you reassured yourself, splashing cold water on your face. “Someone is looking for you.” Splash. “Someone will find you.” Splash. “Steve isn’t dead because of you.” Splash.

You stared at the water flowing out of the faucet as images of Steve started filling your mind. His signature smirk, his chest-grabbing laugh, his caring yet determined personality, and how he... Tears began forming in the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision. You squeezed them shut, sniffling, before opening your eyes to your reflection. “No crying; not yet at least; first, you need to make it out.” You cleared your throat, promising yourself with a nod. You slipped the hat back on and opened the door, jumping in surprise to find Billy waiting there.

“Grabbed your favorites,” he grinned, holding them up. You forced a smile, following him to the register. Billy placed the drinks, snacks, and a few wound cleaning supplies on the counter. You smirked, remembering Cosmo’s rescue efforts. The front door jingled, pulling your attention to a mother and her young daughter walking in.

“Okay, Monica, run to the bathroom, and I’ll grab us some snacks.” You let out a small sigh of relief, smirking at them going their separate ways.

“We should start a family once we settle into our new home,” he whispered into your ear with a smirk on his lips.

“New home?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“It’s part of my plan.” He wiggled his eyebrows, paying the man with cash. “You always wanted a family; why not start now.” He shrugged, leaning into you. He smiled at the clerk, grabbing the bag and holding out his other hand to you. You took it, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

Billy dragged you back out to the car and let go of your hand. He opened the back door while you headed for the passenger side door. “Wait, don’t get in; we’re switching cars. He should be here any minute.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure the police already have the make and model of this car through surveillance video or the license plate number from the note you left in the ladies room.”

“What note?”

“Don’t play stupid. I’m not an idiot, besides why else would you be smirking at a mother and daughter,” he sneered while a car pulled up beside them. “Speak of the devil, right on time.”

A Rolls Royce Wraith pulled up, forcing you to roll your eyes. This was his getaway car, more than a quarter of a million-dollar car, and he expected to get away with you. It was the same car he owned in New York, but this one had updated California license plates. A bald man got out of the driver's side, coming over to you and Billy. It was hard not to be creeped out by him, with a milky left eye and a scar underneath it.

Billy’s phone buzzed once more in his hand. He looked down at it, letting out a quiet snicker. He read off the abduction alert, including your name, what you looked like, and what you were wearing last. “Turns out you got someone looking for you after all. It’s a shame they aren’t going to find you.”

You gulped, noticing the bald man smirking. “As requested, your new phone--” he handed Billy a flip phone while Billy handed him his smartphone “--with a few contacts that you can trust and help you if it’s necessary. And everything you requested is in the back seat, but knowing you, Billy, you two have already disappeared.”

Your breathing quickened at his words, your eyes darting between the two men shaking hands. Billy had the perfect plan, and you were stepping right into it. You were going to disappear, become a ghost, and no one was going to be able to find you. Your defeated eyes caught Billy’s, not missing the amusement dancing in his. You bit your lip, staring into the distance, hoping the daughter saw your note and called the police. But it dawned on you that help wasn’t coming, which left you with two options: start over and try to be happy with him, or adapt and overcome.

“Thank you for your help, Agent Orange. I’ll owe you one.” Orange nodded at Billy, walking over to the previous car before getting in and driving away. “Well, get in, honey. It’s time to go on our road trip.”

___________

AN: Thanks for reading Part 17! This doesn't sound like it will be a fun road trip, and from the looks of it, Billy seems to be one step ahead of her with every move she makes. How is she gonna out think him? If you haven't noticed already, Billy is a real piece of work, and I'm hoping he came off as a psychopath in this part. If not I tried my best, it's hard to tap into a dark mindset like that! Haha! I will say though, Ben Barnes, who plays Billy Russo, is an attractive man, but I will admit his brown eyes can get scary dark sometimes. Like when he's mad, you can just see it in his eyes, so I tried to play off that. And it seems like he has a buddy helping him, Agent Orange, I wonder how they know each other? Also, we kind of have a better understanding where Nat's head was at at the end of the last part. She was worried about her friend and wanted everything to be done right, and put Billy away for good. And what do you think of her and Thor teaming up to find her? And can't forget that little assist from Bruce, but will they be able to find her before she disappears forever or will something worse happen along the way? Is Steve gonna pull through? And man, I sure hope Cosmo is doing okay! Until next week, thanks again!

113 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 3 years

Note

You can't tell me that Shinji wouldn't have some fierce pent up rage he'd let out in the bedroom whenever he manages to make it in there.

Idk, I know my experience isn't universal but I only saw the anti-pages and flash games in the fujoshi sector. Flame wars on LJ with het ships oh absolutely. Hello stalking and other such nonsense. If you saw any hate/kill pages for het ships I'd love to hear about them because that's a weird part of internet history that I sometimes wonder if I dreamed up. That experience was a big milestone during my formative years. I could've done better without that experience. Either way, internalized misogyny is something we all get to battle, I'm sure, but I do take exception to people weaponizing and pedestaling Teh Gays to do it. Or any race someone doesn't have a dog in really but to stay on topic. The overall vibe I recall was 'this is so taboo and that makes it sexy so let's play in this filth for a while and kill Asuka' etc and I just think it'd be nice if that was done? So yeah. 1) Are we normalized yet and 2) What's the updog on the female character hate-sites?

IS IT SAFE YET?

Hmm... an intriguing point.

Fandom! Please weigh in on this pressing topic!

How does Shinji fuck?

I think the het side of fandom just called their enemy characters "whores" instead of "stupid and boring" like the m/m-shipping side tended to. IDK. It's not like over-the-top hate for the character in the way of the ship has ever been restricted to one group.

Plenty of female character hate I remember was from straight dudes who pretended not to care about shipping. That absolutely includes jokey shit about Asuka being raped or murdered for not fawning on their self-inserty take on Shinji or for not being a ~demure lady~ like Rei or some bullshit. I'm sure they too would be quick to blame it on the icky m/m shippers now though.

There's a really toxic subtext to your comments that's a lot more pressing than someone's character hate webshrine from twenty years ago.

"Or any race someone doesn't have a dog in really" is such a covert radfem way of thinking. That's for two reasons:

1. A shitton of conflicted AFAB m/m shippers grow out of their "girls suck" problems when they finally realize that they are not girls and that this hatred of everything to do with women is coming from a place of being constantly triggered by how people perceive them.

I remember reading some of Billy Martin's old stuff as a teenager and being really grossed out by how it treated women. I liked the m/m parts and the kinky shit, so I kept reading, but yikes. Years later, finding out that Poppy Z Brite was struggling for years and eventually became "Doc" and then Billy Martin made so much sense. That doesn't make misogyny cool, but I'll cut the dude some slack for taking a while to figure his shit out.

I don't restrict that to trans men. NB people and, frankly, a lot of more-or-less cis women with non-normative gender in some way follow a similar path.

2. What makes you think I don't have a dog in that race? What makes you think a woman cannot relate primarily to male characters or equally to male characters?

As a bisexual woman, I like bisexual characters. I don't give two shits about lesbian ones. My first point of identification is orientation, not gender.

The reason I say your (extremely common and thrown at me daily) talking points are covert radfem is that they posit a situation in which women should identify first and foremost with other women. We should choose women. We should center women.

Why?

What if you want to center your ethnicity? What if you want to center your age? What if you want to center your neurodivergence?

Or what, for that matter, if you want to write about the inside of your head and not the outside of your body? There are many, many reasons people choose these cross-group identifications for that purpose. The entirety of drag queen culture and gay men's use of female celebrities is a version of this. Sure, some trans women have been into the same stuff, and it was an expression of them being women, just as some m/m-writing AFABs in fandom turn out to be men, but there's also this whole other thing that has to do with making art that expresses your insides, not a representation quota.

Are we normalized yet? Is who normalized? Gay men? People who hate on m/m shippers in cliched ways? Yes to both. If you want to hang with the cis gay dudes, I'm sure they're around somewhere, though probably not in the middle of AFAB-ville on fanworks fandom tumblr. If you want to find a bunch of dickheads who hate "fujoshi", often in self-hating ways, they're all over the place though. Throw a rock. You'll hit one.

Character shrines, positive and negative, are long dead thanks to geocities and its ilk deleting our collective internet history, but as long as you see strawmen lurking around every corner, it will never be safe for you.

40 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 4 years

Text

this was requested by @deardmvz ! based off of this lovely post!!

Billy is released from the hospital a few months after he’s out of that place, having been dragged back to his own world a bloody mess by a group of government men in hazmat suits.

They said he was lucky to have spent as long as he did in a toxic environment and come out of it only needing a weekly breath treatment and a couple of bandages. But he knows it wasn’t luck.

Because if there was such a thing as lucky, Billy Hargrove was not it.

Rather, it was because he’d learned how to give the monsters over there what for. Didn’t hide and come whimpering at the first signs of rescue, begging for their protection like everyone was expecting him to after dealing with monsters and breathing polluted air for six months.

Six months. He couldn’t believe that. To him, on the other side, it had felt more like years.

But he’d stumbled out of that place all the same, dripping axe still gripped tight in hand, in case this was his mind giving up, in case his hell wasn’t really coming to an end after all, and in the end, he was tougher, more resilient, unafraid.

But the doctors didn’t really believe that, did they?

As soon as he was given the clear in the emergency room, onced over for physical injuries he’d thankfully avoided and the doctors having given him something that made him cough up most of the gross stuff that’d been collecting in his lungs, he was sent straight to the psych ward.

Because he could kill as many monsters as he wanted, and he could spend months as a survivor, doing what nobody before him had been able to without super powers, but he was never going to be able to shake the isolation, the uncertainty of everyday he spent over there. Not without help.

The upside down was a no man’s land, he didn’t have the time of day to think about what he’d done, who he’d lost, what had happened to him. But the moment he’s free of it, he’s back to reality.

Back to being the kid down on Cherry, with years of baggage to carry even before all this interdimensional bull that he’d never worked through. With a sister who thought he was dead, and a father who probably wouldn’t care less whether or not he was.

They see all of that, so he pushes them away, refusing every attempt the nurses make at helping him. He doesn’t want their help anyways, he doesn’t want to be in the hospital anymore, and he sure as all hell doesn’t want to be a part of some government conspiracy.

But with enough personal questions and screenings, they’re able to, a couple of weeks into the program, coax it out of him, working him up to the breaking point and the following outpouring of guilt.

Pushing him to admit things about himself he’d never had to look in the face until that hard shell he’d had to build up to protect himself from monsters of all kinds since he was just a kid dissolved away, and he was left a sobbing mess in a support group, going on and on about having chased his mother away, how he was working on chasing his little sister away.

About the way he treated his peers and the way he let others treat him. About Heather Holloway and everyone else and how he’d killed them.

Straight away they get him in to see somebody, something he doesn’t really like the sound of at first, but they say they’re willing to release him from the psych ward if he agrees to go regularly, so it’s worth a shot.

That is, until he realizes he has nowhere to go except back to his house. 5280 Cherry Lane, where Neil Hargrove, the very first monster he’d ever had to fight, would be waiting for him.

He tries to get out of it, to go back to who he was before he’d let all this stuff get to him, but it doesn’t last. He’ll bark out nasty things at the nurses and refuse to cooperate when they get to trying to evaluate his head again, but there’s no bite behind it, and he can’t keep it up.

That seemingly infinite well of hatred and pain had been drained by his time on the other side, until he just didn’t have it in him to be angry all the time anymore.

Billy tucks his tail and goes to the shrink, signs the release papers at the hospital and goes straight to that first appointment like he isn’t terrified of what will happen the minute they let him go home for the first time in forever.

Some part of him knows it’s no different than what he’d already been dealing with in intensive care, but there’s still something about being out there on his own, shooed away from what had become his sanctuary after escaping just to have some government approved doctor tell him he’s mentally unwell, that doesn’t sit right with him, and he walks out of that office even more nervous, more jittery to return than before, but he can’t avoid it forever.

The house isn’t too far from downtown where the office is, so he just walks home. He thinks of stopping at a payphone and call ahead, to let them know he’ll be coming home, but he hasn’t exactly been carrying pocket change with him, and he thinks it might be better if they’re not expecting him anyways.

It’s bitter cold outside, a dusting of snow on the ground making him walk slow over slippery sidewalks, unused to the conditions, but it’s the most fresh air he’s gotten in a long time, out in the kind of cold he can appreciate.

Over there, it was a clammy kind of cold, the type that clung to his skin and seeped into his bone, like he was under water. But this is different, the sun shining overhead taking off some of the bite, a cross wind that blew his hair back in his face and made the tip of his nose go numb.

By the time he reaches the door, he still doesn’t know exactly what he’ll say. How does one go about breaking the news to their family that they aren’t really dead?

The general idea is this: ring the doorbell, hope against hope that Neil isn’t afraid of zombies, appeal to his inner anti-government conspiracy theorist, and pray that he’ll buy it for long enough not to shoot him dead and maybe let him inside.

First step goes smoothly, and he’s ready to move on to blocking punches in the case of a kinemortophobic, but when the door is yanked open, it’s not his dad, and the rest of the plan goes out the window. It’s Max that answers, and before he has time to even process that, she wraps her arms around his torso in a hug tight enough to knock the wind out of him.

He doesn’t know what to do, this wasn’t what he’d been anticipating, so he kind of just, awkwardly pats her back and tries to ask her if he can come in, but all she does is squeeze him tighter.

Susan peers around a corner in the house, “Max, who was at the…” They lock eyes, and she trails off, a mix of relief and apprehension and maybe something like fear on her face. “Bring him inside, dear.”

Max pulls away and lets him in, wiping at stray tears with her sleeve pulled up over her hand. She waits for Billy to sit on the couch, and sits down right next to him, pressing into his side. “Where were you? We watched you die.“

“Wasn't me.” He eyes Susan, trying to communicate to Max that this was top secret, don’t tell your step-mom immediately after leaving a government facility information, but Susan chimes in.

“She told me everything. After what happened she was too upset to remember her agreement. We both signed the NDA.”

And for a second that pisses him off. Not at Max and Susan, but the agents who knew what was happening and still had the nerve to bring them in to threaten them without even bothering to mention he was still alive.

Right now that’s the part he tries to focus on. That he was still alive, and had better things to worry about than what he couldn’t change. “It was a clone. A fail safe made by the shadow in case your merry band killed me. When he died, I was trapped.”

“In the upside down?” Max’s eyes were wide as could be, the color drained from her cheeks. “But-but that almost killed Will and he was only there for like, a week.”

“Do I look like a scrawny twelve year old kid?”

“Muscles can’t protect you from toxic air, jerk.”

Susan’s looks frantic in that way she used to around Billy’s dad, who is notably not present, as she scolds, “That’s enough, Max. He’s been through a lot to get here, let’s let him ask some questions.”

It wasn’t like Billy really minded Max’s questions, he was sure he’d have quite a few himself if it was Max who had come back from the presumed grave, but he did have one of his own sitting heavy at the front of his mind. “Where’s Neil? He get his work schedule changed or something?”

“He’s gone.” Max deadpans.

At her tone, Billy feels his stomach drop, his heart stutter. “He died?”

“Heavens no. We got a divorce three months after we buried you, or what we thought was you.” Susan looks at Max tired, remorseful. “He was never the same without you.”

Things had been close to boiling over even before everything, he worried who had filled his shoes. He nods towards Max. “How bad was he?”

“Better and worse. He never laid a finger on us, but he was…”

An overdramatized shiver runs through Max as she finished her mother’s sentence, “Creepy.”

Susan nodded in agreement and explained, “So nice, so reserved, it was like we were constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“And he’s not coming back?”

“Why should he? He didn’t even tell us where he was going.” Max scoffs, missing the implication of what he asked. Seeing her still be so clueless made Billy infinitely grateful that Susan had finally given his old man the boot, even if that meant he was somewhere in the middle now.

He figures that was something he was willing to deal with if it meant Max was okay, and Neil wasn’t anywhere near her. Now he just needed to know if Susan would be expecting him to go find his dad on his own and move in with him.

He doesn’t mean to let as much tension into his voice as he does when he asks, “So what’s all this mean for me?”

“What else? You are never leaving me again, asshole.”

So it was settled, and judging from the look Susan gave him, she agreed with Max’s answer. Which was, overwhelming, to say the least.

Not that Neil had exactly been a family man, but the fact that they were willing to accept him back into their home without him around was more than Billy knew how to process just yet.

His room had already been converted into a storage space as Neil had been moving out, dragging everything that had never been unpacked in the first place out into the one space he viewed as disposable.

They thought he was dead, he couldn’t have expected them to keep his room the way he left it, and though it did sting a little when he found out half of his stuff was missing, either taken by Neil or thrown out in the process, it was soothed by Max giving him a box of all the things she knew were the most important to him, having snuck in and gone through his belongings herself.

Billy decides to let Susan keep her little storage room, it had been too drafty in there to make for a decent bedroom anyhow, so he moves into the carpeted corner of the basement, which he notices is finished now.

Before, the ceiling had been wide open, half built wooden slats coated in years of dust and cobwebs, a single exposed light bulb offering the only source of light. Now it looked like an actual room, and it made him feel something tight in his chest.

Because Neil had retiled and painted the upstairs bathroom when his first wife left him, and he had finished the basement when he thought his son had too.

Billy doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about his dad anymore. He’d been dreading the moment he would have to walk through the doors of his own house out of fear and hatred of that man, but learning he wasn’t even there, he almost missed him.

Almost. But then he thought about the way Susan and Max were now, so distinctly different in the comfort they exhibited in their own space, no longer having to constantly cower in fear of the overbearing head of the house, the person he’s free to be now that Neil isn’t around, and suddenly he’s not so remorseful.

Though he does catch Susan once, standing in the kitchen one morning and crying over an old photo of her and Neil.

He’s pretty sure, from the glimpse that he gets, that it’s from the first church registry photoshoot they did as the Hargrove-Mayfields, when the photographer had mindlessly said something like “now just mom and dad,” making both him and Max gag, which made Susan cry after it was over.

That night had been her first taste of the real Neil Hargrove when Billy got a beating in the parking lot. He still remembers the horrified look on her pale face as she told him it was alright when he apologized, snotty nose and bruises on his skin.

He knew the feeling was the same for her, torn between the man they needed Neil to be and the man he had actually been to them, so he pretended not to see her tears. Silently, she agreed to do the same, and ignore the way he sometimes sat in Neil’s chair with a glazed over look in his eye, or sighed and trained his gaze to the floor when he passed the family photos still hanging in the hallway.

It takes a long while for the three of them to settle. Max is a constant ball of excitement, reminding Billy so many times a day that she’s happy to have her brother back that he might just cry about it once he’s alone, and Susan and him are nervous 24/7, pinballing off one another as they try and fail to forget the ghosts of the house.

He thinks about leaving for a while, moving in somewhere all on his own, but his therapist tells him it’d only make things worse now, to lose his support system. Besides, he didn’t have a penny to his name, so it wasn’t like he had much of a choice but to just suck it up and stay with the Mayfields.

In the meantime, he gets himself a job working stock at Melvald’s. They had an open position after Mrs. Byers skipped town, and he thinks they would’ve hired just about anybody to try to get back on their feet after the now demolished mall almost put them out of business, even zombie boy 2.0. His boss is understanding enough, doesn’t say a word when he has to go into the back and have a panic attack when a grieving family member comes in.

They tell him that’s what’s best for him, getting out there and doing something, even if it’s not the something he would ideally be doing at this point in his life. It had never been his intention to stay in Hawkins after graduating, he wanted to go to college back in his home town, but he had to admit it was growing on him some, and setting up roots there was supposed to be good. Maybe that was just the fact he wasn’t allowed to leave talking though.

The guy they’re sending him to, he thinks is somewhat of a quack. His advice is shaky at best, and he treats Billy like some kid, giving him tasks and a reward system more fit for Holly Wheeler than an eighteen year old with enough trauma for the whole town.

So even though he does cooperate, does everything last thing the guy asks of him, he doesn’t particularly feel the need to go beyond that, face the deeper set issues his therapist doesn’t even know about.

Billy’s lack of cooperation makes the whole thing more complicated, gives him less that his therapist can tell him to work on, so he asks him just to talk to Susan.

They’re closer now than ever before, far beyond all the tension and avoidance and misplaced resentment, but they still don’t really talk about any more than what’s necessary. Things like, how was your day, could you help me with this, are you okay, but nothing substantial.

It should be easy, they’d been living under the same roof since he was twelve, so they should have plenty to talk about, it just never seems like the right time, though he has been thinking about it a lot, the way he treats her despite how much she’s done for him.

He doesn’t really have a plan to bring it up, he’s fully prepared to go back to another appointment the next week reporting no dice, but there’s one morning where the clock keeps ticking and the both of them are still wide awake in the living room, like a stalemate of who’ll give in to sleep first.

They both look like they need it, Susan’s hair is frazzled, the bags under her eyes as dark as the coffee she drinks. Billy knows he’s not looking so hot either. He doesn’t remember the last time he could go to sleep without his subconscious taking him back to that place, so he doesn’t even try anymore, just waits until he gets so exhausted he’ll pass out into a dreamless sleep.

He doesn’t know what it is that compels him to say anything, because it’s not awkward or even tense silence really, but he does, his tired voice cutting into the quiet.

“I dunno how to make it up to you.” He’s looking down at his hands, at the barely there scars that still litter the skin there. He thinks for a moment about how much worse it could’ve been, before looking to her. “I mean, I’d get it, if you didn’t want me around.”

Susan looks back at him, not having expected him to say anything really, let alone something so heavy. “What’s this about, Billy?”

“M’not even your kid, Sus. I just- I dunno. Why’d you let me back in?”

She looks baffled. “Should I not have?”

“I’m an adult. don’t need to be moochin’ off my ex-stepmom.” He feels like he had the very first time he ever met her, scared to look her in the eyes, only this time for an entirely different reason. “M’not your burden to carry.”

“Honey, you’re not mooching. You go to work, you help around the house, you help me with Max. That’s more than I could ask for.” She hesitates, unsure of how wide his boundaries are, then adds, “And, maybe you aren’t my son by any stretch of the imagination, but you will always be Max’s brother.”

He had been expecting something about his dad, always had some suspicion that he’d forced a dependent on Susan after he left, but the total opposite seems to be true, and that makes a lump rise in his throat.

In the absence of a response, Susan continues, “If there was one thing you could do for me though, I know you lie to your therapist. Don’t.”

He doesn’t have it in him to fight it, has enough sense about him to know she’s right. All he can manage is a breathless, “Okay.”

She pats him on the shoulder gentle as can be, and stands up from the couch. He doesn’t look up as she retreats to her bedroom, afraid the tears that had welled up in his eyes would spill over if he did.

When he hears her door close softly is when he lets the tears fall. It’s still a lot for him, to have someone be so casual in looking out for him in that way he still hadn’t quite grasped was possible.

The very next day Billy fesses up, and to his surprise, they don’t immediately cart him off when they hear he’s been faking. That had been his biggest fear, with the power that these people held. They’d threatened to lock him up if he ever ran his mouth, so he didn’t know what to expect.

He did feel stupid though, opening the damn for the same guy who gave him stickers for taking his meds about all the things he’d bottled up. But it works to get him into a better program than what they had him doing before, and he realized he’d had it backwards.

The fear of what they were going to do to him kept them from doing anything at all, and it gave Billy a deep sense of relief, that he’d finally broken free of that.

So instead of being assigned things like brushing his teeth or going outside for five minutes a day, which was decent advice, but completely irrelevant to what he needed, now his therapist had started telling him things like throwing out the razor blade he’d been saving for a rainy day, dumping the last of the nonprescription pills he kept in his night stand.

The more he did, the more complicated they got, until he was told that, in exchange for completing his tasks, he would only have to visit the office once or twice a week instead of every day. His last assignment before that could happen was to make amends with his past.

The most obvious thing the doc wanted him to do was forgive his parents, but Billy didn’t know where to even begin on that one, or really, if he had or hadn’t already done as much, so he went with the other way first, apologizing to everyone he had, or felt he had hurt.

He started at the cemetery. Max came with him and held his hand as he broke down graveside, begging his repentance for all the people who’d died last July. Talking to their survivors was strictly out of the question, they still thought he was the hero that tried to save as many as he could and was killed in action, not the one responsible.

That had been the story spread it the public by the people who had known all along he wasn’t really dead, monitoring his activity on the other side while they turned murderer into martyr. The more time he spent in the shrink's office, the less sure he was that even he knew what side he was on.

Apologizing to the living proves to be easier. He starts with the Sinclair kid at one of the weekly nerd meetings Max holds at their house, now that it’s safe, pulling him aside for a few to say his piece, which, judging from his reaction, Max had already done most of the heavy lifting for him.

When they came back he got fixed with a glare from the unfamiliar little girl that was always around these days, and he realized he and Lucas had that in common, a weapon of a little sister.

Next came minor inconveniences, people like Tommy who he used as a punching bag just because they were friends. Most of them blew the whole thing off, they were in high school when it happened, didn’t understand the moral dilemma of it all, and everyone but maybe one kid who he might’ve punched a little too hard when a fight broke out after football practice forgave him.

Last on his list, the one person standing in the way of what was supposedly the next step of his healing process, was Harrington.

Steve’d had his own fall from grace, and Billy fell much, much harder than he had, so it could be the easiest apology he has to do, but there were reasons it might be the hardest too. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness for the way he’d treated Steve, which he’d never even apologized for in the first place, and it seemed like a cheap shot to be doing it now, more than a whole year after beating his face in.

He tracks him down at work, rifling through shelves lined with tapes he wasn’t interested in until he had the guts to approach the counter and ask Steve to follow him outside. The bastard doesn’t even look suspicious, doesn’t hesitate in giving him his warmest smile and inviting him behind the counter instead with a, “What’s on your mind, man?

It should be awkward, uncomfortable at the very least, they're having a conversation that should be happening anywhere but in two folding chairs behind the counter at Family Video, and yet, Billy feels none of that unpleasantry, just a conviviality he’d never expect to have with Steve Harrington, of all people. T the one apology he’d expected to be turned down is accepted with a simple, “It’s okay, Billy.”

That’s what made him different. He wasn’t like Tommy, who’d told him to forget anything ever happened, or Susan, who was adamant that it wasn’t his fault; Steve actually forgave him without ignoring what he did, and that, that was what this was about.

He finds himself frequenting the video store on his off days, trying to make friends with the one person other than Max he felt like he could trust, who trusted him, and from there it turned to swinging by Steve’s place after work, going out on the weekends together, falling head over heels in love.

That last part Billy tries to deny, tries to rationalize that maybe he’s just clinging to something constant after so long in isolation, but the longer he spends around Steve, the more he knows there’s no way around it. Billy was so gone for him and his stupid hair and his stupid laugh and his stupid little family video vest.

There’s a while where he tries to distance himself a little, feeling guilty about crushing on the only person to extend the olive branch back after he got out, but then Steve starts showing up at his door, and Max would hide a guilty smile behind her hand.

Once summer hits, just a few short weeks shy of the anniversary of when the shadow got Billy, Susan and Max get more and more careful around him, like they don’t want to set him off, and he gets that. Sometimes Max or one of her little friends would mention something that had happened last July, a sort of ‘hey, remember when we,’ and he would get a little, off.

Never violent, never cruel, never the Billy he had been before, just, reserved.

He thinks they’re afraid he’s going to snap. That they’ve gotten the wrong impression from all this recovery stuff. The very last thing he wants is for Max to think just he’s a shmooze, faking being better to get on her good side.

But they’re not. They’re just want to give him his space, after everything, and he knows he’s got to get out of his head about it.

For now though, when he’s afraid he might break his promise, he takes off, but it depends on what kind of day it is where he’ll go. Sometimes it’s the pool, at the picnic table on the other side of the fence, or to the cemetery again, making the rounds between all of the markers, the ones he put there, or even to visit the totaled Camaro, sold to a junker and kept in the corner of some private property, his blood still on the seats.

Once, he’d made the mistake of going to the steelworks, just to sit on a railroad tie outside of the place for hours, having a panic attack alone as he tried and failed to forget bad memories, bruised ribs, falling fast, losing control.

None of those were particularly healthy places for him to be spending his free time, so per therapist recommendation, he starts finding better spots to hang out, places that weren’t just a way to retraumatize himself.

The problem is that in Hawkins, there isn’t anywhere really to go unless he wanted to spend all day in a dingy old diner or in half abandoned shops downtown. He liked taking Max to the drive-in on the outskirts, but the point is he needs somewhere to go away from his step-family.

When Steve finds out about his new assignment, the rides to and from work and quick drop ins just to say hello turn into days off spent at the quarry together, nights spent in front of Steve’s huge TV set.

One day after a double shift at Melvald’s, they end up out back by the pool. The air conditioning in Steve’s old house was not the best when it came to humidity, and Billy doesn’t like to be too hot. Something about the feeling is too familiar, too much like being on the floor of the sauna, sweating bullets and pleading for his life.

Heat is also one of the many things that triggers coughing fits, making him hack up his lungs from the months he spent without clean air to breath, so Steve’s ushering him outside to dip their feet in the pool and get out of the stuffy old house before he gets sick.

The smell of chlorine wading off of the pool isn’t all that much better. The strong chemicals make his nose and his throat and his whole chest burn like fire. Just the smell of it is enough that he has to try to remember that that hasn't been his reality for almost a year now, that he isn’t in the storage room at the pool downing bottles of poison.

It doesn’t bother him so much though, because the bad stuff, that’s all in the past now, isn’t it?

He tries instead to focus on the good things, on the breeze that they do get in the beating down sun and the way it carries cool air off the surface of the pool, offering more relief from the heat than they could get inside Steve’s inferno of a mansion, and on feeling the sunshine warming his skin again, the cold water and the smooth liner against his calves submerged in the pool. He even tries to focus on Steve, leaning all his weight back on his hands outstretched behind him, sitting so close to Billy their knees bump in the water every time Steve kicks his legs out.

And quite frankly, it’s not particularly hard, paying attention Steve with the way he’s practically glowing in the summer sun. As much as winter was his season, his forever pale skin and how he could rock a sweater didn’t even hold a candle to the way he looks now.

Maybe he is wearing preppy khaki shorts and a sun visor, but the way his back freckles in the summer, the skin on his cheeks and his shoulders flushing from the heat, his long hair sticking to the back of his neck with sweat, it’s a sight that makes Billy's heart pitta-pat.

Still, as nice of a view as Steve makes for, nothing can distract him from the nagging feeling that has Billy on edge. That sense that his flesh will start burning if he stays out here too long, that he’ll lose control of his body. That he’ll hurt Steve.

If Steve’s old nail bat propped against the pool shed, or their newer method of self defense, a machete from the hardware store purchased after Billy's last panic attack, hidden underneath of the chairs, offer any indication, the feeling may be mutual.

Despite the aviators perched on Billy’s nose, Steve must notice that distant look in his eye, because he offers Billy a quaint smile and, using one hand to stand up, he announces, “Be right back, gonna go get us some stuff.”

Billy nods and vaguely wonders what ‘some stuff’ means before turning his attention back to his surroundings. Back to following his therapists advice and watching the ripples in the pristinely kept water, listening to the rustle of untrimmed grass when a breeze comes through, bumble bees in the neighbors yard, anything at all that might stop his mind from wandering.

He’s almost feeling grounded again when he feels a chill run down the back of his neck. Goose pimples fan out across his skin, a deep seated cold to contrast the heat. He knows the feeling well, he’d gone through six grueling months using it as his only advantage over the monsters out to get him.

Some rational part of his mind tells him it’s just a bead of sweat rolling down his back, a loose strand of hair from the messy bun Max had put in his hair that morning brushing against his skin, the fact that his legs are still submerged in the 70 degree water, but he isn’t feeling rational after that, and he feels panic setting in again.

He wants to go run and tell Steve, wants to grab something to defend himself, but he can’t, he’s just, frozen to the spot.

The feeling is gone as quickly as it came, but everything else feels different now.

The pool water feels sticky and warm, almost like it’s sucking him in. The cement surrounding it feels rougher against his palms, and so hot to the touch. He’s scared to even blink, afraid that on the other side of that calm darkness, he’s in that hell again, and this has all been some delusion.

There’s a bang from behind him, and he’s on his feet, heart racing a thousand miles a minute. He’s just short of reaching for the machete under the chair when he notices it’s just Steve.

He’s standing by the sliding door, having pushed it open with his knee so far that the glass hit off the other door, and balancing way too much. Feeling like his legs are going to give out from under him and bringing one hand absently to his chest, Billy breathes out, “Damn it, Harrington.”

“Sorry.” There's a sheepish smile on his face, which has gone pinker than even the sunburn with a hint of embarrassment. He has a bulky radio balanced on his hip, a glass of something in each hand, and a deck of cards tucked under his chin. “A little help?”

Hurrying up the steps, Billy takes the radio before Steve can drop it and smash it to bits on the concrete. Steve takes the opportunity to explain himself, “I made lemonade, my gramma's recipe, and I thought we could use something to do.”

Maybe it’s reckless, maybe it’s the exact opposite of what he should do, but he puts the radio on the table and lets Steve distract him from that creeping feeling with mundanities.

It’s almost funny, how getting out of the house for him used to mean partying and sneaking out to wreak drunken havoc on the town. Now it meant sipping lemonade and playing double solitaire and go-fish with the fallen King poolside, like he was in some retirement community or something.

The only thing that kept him from feeling too ridiculous was the radio, which was playing a decent selection of rock music, not too much of the glitzy stuff he pretended not to like or the poppy stuff Steve definitely did.

Once the sun went down, the smallest bit of orange and pink sky disappearing behind the thick trees, and all the breeze had died out, they moved away from the pool's edge to the plastic chairs, pushing two together and sitting cross legged so they were facing one another. The night air was thick with the smell of a burning citronella candle and chlorine.

The cards had been long ago abandoned, both of them favoring just being in each other’s company, swapping stories of how bad work had sucked that day, and things like plans for the week. Billy sort of just likes having an excuse to look at Steve all night.

It’s more calm than Billy’s had in a long while since coming back, and he almost get to appreciate it before the chill comes back, this time accompanied by the distant rustling of leaves.

He could’ve pretended it was just a critter moving around or the trees settling, but then they hear the unmistakable sound of a monster's trill further out in the woods, and there’s no longer any doubt about it.

Steve freezes, looks to Billy with eyes as wide as saucers and, slowly as can be, reaches blindly behind himself until his hand closes around the base of the wooden bat, which had been moved closer as night fell.

He rises to his feet, stopping cold when the chair creaks as his weight lifts off it, trying to make as little noise as possible, an action mostly pointless with the radio still on. It’s too late anyways, they’d already been seen. Billy could feel it.

“Stay here. I’m just going to check it out.”

“No way, out of the two of us, I’m the only one who’s ever killed one of those things.” Steve looks like he wants to argue, wants to be noble and brave like he has to be for everyone else, so Billy tells him sternly, “I’m coming with you.”

And maybe Steve doesn’t refuse his help, but he isn’t looking at Billy either. His gaze, empty and exhausted, is trained on the trees, searching for signs of the monsters they’re both used to handling on their own. He leans into Billy’s side as they start into the woods, and he can feel him shaking.

The leaves and twigs all along the ground that crunch under their tennis shoes as they move deeper into the woods sound impossibly loud, drawing enough attention to their location that this was guaranteed not to be a surprise attack.

Billy would’ve preferred it that way, they were easier to kill if they weren’t expecting a fight, but he supposed he should just be grateful that they’d found them before they could make their way into Steve’s backyard and take them by surprise.

They reach a clearing and he gets a dreadful feeling like his entire body has been dipped in ice water, and he knows they're right in the middle of a swarm. Instinctively, he puts his arm out across Steve’s chest. “Stop.”

“What?” Billy doesn’t respond, but as Steve’s eyes adjust, he notices them too. About six or seven demodogs, behind trees and bushes, hiding from their prey. He whispers harshly right into Billy’s ear, “Do you think they see us?”

“No shit.”

“Then what the hell are they doing?”

“Waiting for their chance. But we’re not gonna give it to them.” He digs the heels of his Chuck’s into the dirt, grip tightening on the machete. He glances over at Steve and tries not to think too hard about the apprehension written across his features, “You ready for a fight?”

Steve pales, like he was never expecting it to get that far, but they were about thirty feet, maybe further, into the woods already, they wouldn’t be able to book it back to Steve’s house in enough time. The damn things were much too fast. He swallows hard, whispers, “How do I kill one?”

“Aim for the base of its skull. Never let it get your weapon in its mouth. Always pay attention to your surroundings.” His voice is quiet, but stern, trying not to let any fear slip into his tone that might make the other boy more afraid. He was the experienced one, if he were to let it show that he was scared, Steve might go running for the hills. “And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Plant your goddamned feet.” Steve nods, furrows his brows and tries to force a breathy chuckle at the call back, but he barely manages a huff, and Billy can tell he’s terrified.

They don’t have time to think about it though, in the middle of a swarm he can’t let him dwell on it for too long, so he turns his attention off of Steve, and whistles, shouts “Hey, assholes! Come and get us!”

There’s a breathless second where the dogs don’t move an inch, he can tell Steve is about to say something that could’ve gotten the both of them killed so he cuts him off, “Get ready, Harrington.” One of the demodogs, he’s guessing the leader of the freakish pack based on the sheer size of it, shrieks, the cue for the others to start charging them.

These ones are fast, probably faster than even he’s used to, and he doesn’t like how close the first one gets to Steve before he brings his bat down it, so he pulls him closer by the back of his shirt, presses their backs together so there’s less room for a surprise.

The big one comes after Billy, the bigger threat of the two. The sense works as a two way street, if he can tell where they are, they can tell where he is, and they don’t like that.

It only takes him a few swings to get it stumbling, two more to finish it off, but in the time it takes him to kill the one, he loses track of where Steve is. Frantically he looks around, taking note of the location of the dogs, until he finds him in the dark a few feet off from where he is, swinging his bat at the runt over and over, making sure it was good and dead.

And Billy would be impressed, except for there was another dog charging him, just a few seconds off from closing its teeth around Steve’s arm on the backswing. It’s too close for him to try to kill it, so he kicks it, making it hiss and tumble across the muddy ground.

Steve looks over at him, blood spattered on his face and fear in his eyes. Billy wishes he could stop and appreciate the close call, but it’ll come back, and there’s another charging from the other side, so he settles for shouting, “Just remember what I told you and you’ll be alright!”

With the biggest out of the way it’s easy pickings, Billy takes out the next one that tries him quick, but another catches him off guard, clamps it’s teeth down hard on the machete, lodging it in its mouth. It gets cut bad, but not enough to really do much damage to it. If he lets go, he’s defenseless, if he doesn’t, he’s going to lose his arm.

That’s a call he’s almost willing to make, wrenching his weapon free at the risk of getting himself bit, but he doesn’t have to, because Steve takes it for him, running over from somewhere and bringing the bat down hard on the back of its head.

It would be too distracting to thank him, so he just nods his way and turns back to the last two dogs still alive, Steve taking the one that was still hiding and leaving the other for him.

At this point, he’s feeling pretty confident, one dog on its own is nothing much to worry about, and it seems it knows it too, because it stops a few feet off, daring him to come at it first. He takes his own advice and plants his feet in the dirt, daring it right back.

It charges him, and he stabs it straight through its head. It was a weak one, a last line of defense they didn’t expect to need, and it hisses out it’s final breath after only one go.

Billy hears the one Steve went after scampering off too, judging from the uneven drag of its weight across the forest floor, hurt badly enough it won’t last long.

He tries to feel for any others, but they don’t travel in packs that big, not without an order to follow. He rolls his shoulders and relaxes his stance, but he doesn’t dare dream of letting go of the machete yet. Even as it drips sticky slime and gore in thick drops onto the ground, even if it feels so heavy in his hands, also splattered with gooey blood.

There’s a moment of disturbing calm, the bodies of maimed demodogs scattered all around them as Billy tries to remind himself that they’re in his world this time, instead of him in theirs. He closes his eyes to shut out the panic and just listens.

Listens for gentle reminders that he’s in the real world. The sound of the katydids in the trees. A stray breeze rustling the leaves, dry from the relentless heat. The distant scratch of tires on pavement. Softly bubbling water from the jets in Steve’s pool.

He notices that the radio is still going, making the whole thing feel somehow more eerie, as if interdimensional monsters lurking in the neighborhood wasn’t bad enough on its own. Like when a car goes off the road, still playing a reckless teenager's final anthem. Billy wonders what song he’d like to be playing when he died. Maybe some Misfits.

But he isn’t dead, not yet anyhow, and that’s not the music that’s drifting out to where he’s still standing stock still in the woods, waiting for reality to hit him.

REO Speedwagon with Can’t Fight This Feeling carries softly out to their location, probably one of the lamest songs to fight monsters to if you were to ask Billy.

I can't fight this feeling any longer

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow

What started out as friendship has grown stronger

I only wish I had the strength to let it show

Though he’s got to admit, it’s not a horrible song for this thing he has going with Steve. After that close call of the dogs stalking so close to his house, Billy doesn’t think he has it in him to let the chance to bring it up with Steve slide through his fingers again. He’d never forgive himself.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever

I said there is no reason for my fear

“Harrington.” When he opens his eyes again Steve isn’t there, and for a second he’s got to fear the worst. To wonder, if the dogs aren’t the only thing he’ll find dead. “Steve?”

'Cause I feel so secure when we're together

You give my life direction, you make everything so clear

“M’here, Bill.” He's leaning against a tree, his bat still held close at his side, looking winded, but alright, from what Billy can tell at least. “Just needed to, to catch my breath.”

And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

“You scared me, asshole.” Billy gathers his courage, rides the wave of adrenaline to take a step closer, until he’s hovering right in front of him, dangerously close, to say, “Listen Steve, there's something I’ve been thinking about for a while, and after this I just, I can't fight it anymore.”

He gets the memo, half-lidded eyes focusing on Billys lips, making him flick his tongue across them on instinct, tasting remnants of strawberry chapstick and lemonade dulled by the scent of copper. “Then don't fight it.”

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

Their weapons are tossed to the ground before Billy closes the small gap that was left between them, ignoring all the muck and goo and blood splattered on their clothes and their skin to cup the side of Steve’s face, kiss him as soft and as sweet as he knows how after a fight like that.

'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Steve pulls away too soon, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he leans forward, forcing his weight onto Billy. The magic of the moment comes crashing down, when he notices how dreadfully pale Steve is, even in the darkness of the woods, untouched by street lamps or moon light.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Through gritted teeth, he mumbles into Billy’s shirt, “I think one got me.”

“Jesus, you're telling me this now?” He helps him lean back against the tree again, feeling he has the right to fret over him after a first kiss. “Where at?”

“My leg.” He says it so casual, Billy’s expecting nothing more than a nick, a last attempt at a scratch from a dying dog, but it’s bad.

Skin and muscle are torn through in a gash probably five inches long on Steve’s leg, deep enough he swears he can almost see bone. It’s already bruised dark, deep purple and black under all the blood, and bent just a little, like the bone had been cracked, but not quite broken.

Billy has to fight the urge to wince, to gag, to let any sort of panic over the severity of the bite show, because he knows Steve hasn’t seen it yet, that he’s maybe even in shock right now. The moment he let it show how bad he thought it was, Steve could pass out on him. Or worse.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Thought we were having a moment.”

“Well I’d like to have at least a few more, if you wouldn’t mind.” He sighs, but he drops the attitude. Stressed as he may be, Steve needs him level headed right now. “Can you walk?”

“Sure, yeah.” Something about the way his voice sounds like he’s struggling for air makes Billy not believe him, but he offers him his arm to let him test his weight anyways. It doesn’t go well, “Son of a mother bitch!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take that as a no.” Billy figures it’d be better just to come back for their weapons later than to wait around for a second attack with an injured Steve, or to get sliced to ribbons carrying them and Steve back to the house. Because that’s what he’s going to have to do, from the looks of it.

He bends down and lets Steve wrap his arms loosely around the back of his neck, and hooks his hands under his knees to lift him. With his leg off the ground, he’s guessing Steve must catch a glimpse of how badly it’s torn up, because he throws his head back and mutters an “Oh shit.” to the stars.

Billy wishes his voice sounded more certain when he assures him, “You’ll be alright, just don’t look at it.”

There’s blood dripping from Steve’s leg on the grass, all on the concrete steps from the backyard that lead into Steve’s house and then the hardwood floors. Billy tries not to think about how they’re leaving behind a trail that would lead the monster straight to them.

They’d killed the dogs though, so he tries his damndest to believe that his biggest worry right now would be not being able to get the stains out before Mr. and Mrs. Harrington got back.

“Where do you keep the first aid around here?”

“Upstairs bathroom, third door on the right.”

Billy frowns. Trying to get him up the stairs was going to be awkward, the space between the wall and the banister so narrow, and Steve’s legs so long. The only way he can keep from dragging his wound against anything, which he’s almost positive would kill Steve at this point, is to turn sideways.

It feels like it takes forever to get up the steps and walk down the upstairs hallway, dodging side tables and potted plants until they reach the bathroom.

Even once they get there, Billy winces, taking in the tall, but thin door frame. “M’not fitting through here with you, Stevie. Gonna have to let you down.”

“Okay.” His jaw tightens, like he knows it’s gonna be hell to put pressure back on his leg, and Billy thinks about how he’d rather knock out the entire wall than have to watch Steve hurt himself.

But slowly, with Billy’s help, he gets his good foot back on the ground, and his arms unwrap themselves from the back of his neck. Billy keeps one hand holding tight on his hip, to keep him from toppling over while standing on one leg.

“Let me go in first, okay?” Turning around so they’re facing each other, he gives Steve both of his hands and kicks the half opened door the rest of they way open to reveal the dark bathroom behind him. He gets Steve to use the doorframe as a brace long enough that he can turn the light on, then gives him his hand again.

Steve takes the first step, hopping on one foot and making barely any progress. A steely look crosses his face, like he’s already decided what he’s about to do, and he lets his other foot down to the ground.

“That’s it, Stevie, just like that,” Billy mutters little encouragements under his breath, tries anything to keep Steve from thinking about walking on a broken leg. “Keep it coming, baby, just a few more steps.”

The closest thing to the door is a double tiered wooden shelf with magazines and towels on it, so Billy pushes the towels onto the floor with one hand and helps Steve sit down on it with the other.

Maybe it’s the wallpaper, but his complexion looks ghastly, all green and grey where he should be flushed and lively. Before he starts getting everything together, Billy puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You good?”

It was a stupid question, Steve scoffs and says, his voice strained, “No.”

“At least you’re honest.”

Steve groans and stares up at the ceiling, ignoring his leg and the puddle of blood spreading on the tiled floor. “Shouldn’t I be at the hospital right now?”

“Normally, I would say yes,” Billy crouches down by the sink, digging in the cabinets underneath it for the first aid and a rag, “But closest hospital to us is the general hospital, and they’re not going to be thinking about demodog infections. They’ll put a cast on this thing and kill you.”

“Oh.” A poor choice of words, because Steve whispers, “I’m not gonna die, am I?”

“Not if you let me take care of you.”

He soaks through three wash rags with blood before the bleeding slows down enough that Billy can clean it, and slowly the shocked state of mind he was in starts to wear off. At least, judging from the way he’s gripping the edge of the shelf he’s sitting on so hard his knuckles turn white, it’s starting to hurt him pretty bad.

But Steve stays agonizingly quiet as Billy works anyways, hardly even wincing, despite the obvious amount of pain he’s in. Billy clicks his tongue, “I know you’re holding back on me, Steve.”

“You’re one to talk.” He’s defensive, borderline hysterical. “Mister pretending to be tough just because you’ve been through this once.”

“Next time I’ll just let the dogs get you, then.”

Ignoring Billy's rudeness, Steve mutters, “It just hurts so fucking bad.” A tear he’d been trying to hold back slips past, running a track through the dirt and blood that had gotten on his face.

“I’ll get some pain meds in you in a minute, just need you to be alert for this.”

He swallows thickly, like he’s scared. “Ready for what?”

“Well, you’re gonna need stitches.”

“Do you even know how?”

He didn’t. The most he’d ever sewn was a tiny hole in a jacket sleeve, but he didn’t feel it wise to tell him that. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“No way. Absolutely not.” Steve grabs his hand tight to emphasize his point. “You are not coming anywhere near me with a needle.”

“Look, the alternative is it gets infected and you lose the leg. Or, you know, since nobody has ever survived a bite, your life.” He’s not trying to be snappy, but the more blood Steve loses, the more nervous he’s getting about wasting time arguing.

“Man, could you cut back on being an asshole for like, five minutes.” Billy rolls his eyes and tries to reach for Steve’s leg again, but he pulls away from his touch, blinking real slow like he made himself dizzy or he’s getting sick, before he tacks onto the end, “I’m wounded.”

“I know, I'm just trying to help you, Stevie. Please.”

Sighing and running his fingers through his hair, he puffs his cheeks out with a sigh and gives in with Billy’s pleading. “Whatever, just, get it over with quick.”

He goes back to not saying anything, biting his tongue while Billy tries to do a decent patch up. It looks somehow even gnarlier than before, with crooked and sloppy sutures, but it stops the bleeding for long enough that Billy can wrap it as tight as he can with some gauze and an ace bandage.

He sits back on the balls of his feet, and takes note of how they were definitely going to have to go to the government hospital where he’d been treated in the morning. Steve’s quiet so he asks, “Steve?”

“M’good.” He assures halfheartedly, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. “Doin’ just peachy fucking keen.”

They stay upstairs, Billy completely unwilling to try to get Steve back down to the main living room on a busted leg. He'd have to worry about showering and getting the stains that’re all over the Harrington’s floors off later, right now he was just worried about making sure Steve made it through.

There’s a second living room, a foyer, Steve calls it, at the end of the hall, so he takes him in there, lets him sprawl out on the couch while he goes to get a phone and something for Steve to take from the first floor.

He snatches up the rotary off the coffee table, and goes digging in the medicine cabinet for pain killers. Near the back is a bottle of Vicodin, thank god for Mrs. Harrington’s many ailments and her equally surplus supply of pain pills.

Before making his way back up to Steve, he remembers to make sure to lock the sliding doors. Not that it would do much to really stop a demodog, but it’s the thought that counts. He decides to tack a blanket up to block the glass too, in hopes that it might make their scent at least a little harder to track.

Steve is hesitant to take his mother’s prescription, afraid of the side effects, but then he tries to drag his leg up from the floor to prop it on the coffee table so he can get more comfortable, and his mind changes right quick. He almost convinces Billy to let him take more.

Next is letting somebody know. Part of him wishes they could just sweep this whole thing under the rug and forget it, but this was a small town. The woods behind Steve’s house stretched all the way to the now empty Byers’ residence, to the Wheeler's, and from there to Hop’s cabin.

Keeping this a secret would cost lives, that he could be sure of. One measly pack of demodogs weak enough to be taken out by the two of them was guaranteed not to be the last. This was the start of another battle, and they needed as many people as possible to be ready for it.

He sits down with the phone next to Steve on his own cushion, careful not to jostle the couch too much. “Do you know Hop’s number?”

“Just give it here.”

Billy watches Steve dial the number, not a fan of how instinctual an action it seems to be, and as he barely gets a word in edgewise over Hopper on the other end of the line. When he get the chance to breaks the news, the call is over almost immediately, Hop getting ready to warn everyone else. He hangs up with tears in his eyes and a defeated posture.

The instant the phone is discarded on the side table, Steve tells him, his voice thick with tears and exhaustion and pain, “I don’t wanna do this again, Bill.” He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and shakes his head. “Just, last time, we were so close to losing Hopper, losing you, and I just- I can’t do it.”

“Hey. Look at me, Steve. It's not gonna be like last time. You got me now.” Steve does look over at him, his eyes wide, but he only cries harder.

Not knowing what else to do, Billy tosses an arm over his shoulder and pulls him close, and Steve leans into his touch, but there’s a deep frown on his face. Billy thinks his heart breaks clean in two as he insists, in a voice so worn, so dejected, “That’s just one more thing for me to lose.”

“I say it’s one more person looking out for you.” His heart fluttering in his chest, he prays the kiss in the woods wasn’t a heat of the moment thing, and presses another to the side of Steve’s head.

As best he can with his leg up on the coffee table, Steve settles up against Billy's side, sighing heavy through his nose.

Long enough passes that he thinks Steve’s fallen asleep, the pain meds would hopefully knock him out soon, but then he breaks the silence with a quiet, so gentle Billy almost doesn’t hear it, “Will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Look out for me?” The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s embarrassed to ask, so unable to believe that somebody would care about him instead of the other way around.

“‘Course.” Billy smiles despite the way seeing Steve so broken makes him feel, lets the fingers on one hand trail lazily up and down Steve’s arm in a way he hopes is comforting. “Even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight, remember?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he presses himself somehow even closer to Billy and sighs a little laugh, sniffling. “God, you're never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Hey, I’d rather remember our first kiss as being to REO Speedwagon, which is super lame by the way, than with you bleeding out in the woods, so.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve sits up a little straighter so he can look him in the face. There’s still some sadness in his expression, but there’s a hint of a smile too, and Billy will take that as a win any day. Teasingly, Steve says, “Maybe you’ll like the second one better.”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we?” He leans in, but it’s Steve who initiates the kiss this time, leading with more heat behind it than before. He tangles his hands in Billy's hair, deepening the kiss with the press of his tongue against Billy’s.

The angle isn’t very comfortable, a crook forming in Steve’s neck to reach Billy, and they pull apart for a breath. Face flushed beet red, Steve whispers, “Hey, Billy?”

Billy hums in response, too flustered to get his words in order, “Hm?”

“REO Speedwagon isn’t that bad.”

#harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #susan hargrove #max mayfield #ej writer #story by ej!#tw blood #tw injury #how did this end up at over 10k words #i hope i didnt go too far off track with this #my brain just could not stop #I tried to post this two days ago but couldn’t because of the text block limit on mobile so I’m sorry this took so long #hope it was worth the wait but I’m very self conscious about posting this one #I’m really hoping this makes some sense because I can’t read all the way through it again whoops

54 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Soldier Boy (Part 3)

Summary: The reader and Dean take a hike and she opens up to him about her true intentions and what that means for the both of them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Superhero!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,700ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death, angst

A/N: Enjoy the final part!

____

“Dean,” you said the next morning, waiting in his apartment as he rushed around in his outfit. “We going to be fighting crime on our hike?”

“No. Sorry my meeting ran late this morning. It sounds like I might be getting closer to getting into The Seven, fingers crossed,” he said.

“That’s great, babe,” you said. He stepped out of his room in a pair of tan pants and a black shirt, a baseball cap on his head. “All set?”

“After you.”

“Look at that,” he said, stopping along the trail a few hours later. You looked out at the valley below, taking a few pictures of the gorgeous sight.

“How’d you find this place? It’s not on the map.”

“Been around awhile,” he chuckled. He started to walk again but you simply stuck your phone in your pocket and crossed your arms. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“I need to tell you something and I’d rather you find out now,” you said.

“The you working for Billy Butcher thing?”

You swallowed and turned around, Dean looking strangely not upset.

“I saw him last night at your place. I know about him, what he does. But I’d rather hear in your words what you wanted to share,” he said. You nodded and bit your bottom lip.

“I was supposed to seduce you, get you feeling comfortable around me. When you’d fallen for me enough, I’d bring you in and Billy would question you, figure out what you know about anything and everything. He figured you’d have a broken heart and have no fight in you. After, he was going to dispose of you,” you said.

“Why have you come after me?” he asked. “You’re smart and strong but you’re not trained.”

“It’s personal for me. My brother was a big fan of yours,” you said. “Big fan. He was quite a bit older than me. He started to look into where you went and your family’s accident and he disappeared one day and never came back. I was four when we went missing. I know Vought had him killed. I know you’re why he loved superheroes. You were his favorite. His research paper for a college class got him killed. It ruined our family. Billy found me as a pissed off senior writing my own paper on you. Recruited me and taught me a few things, told me when I was a little older we could make our move.”

“I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t-”

“I know you didn’t, Dean,” you said.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” he asked.

“Cause I don’t want you to get hurt,” you said as you looked down. “Billy always said I was naive and too soft for this and he’s right. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you though. I like you. You’re not this image I had in my mind and even if you used to be, you fucked up and you’re trying your best to be better. I can’t be mad at you for that. I’m so done with being mad. I just want to be happy and you made me that way this past week getting to know you.” You turned around and looked out at the valley again. “Just do whatever you’re gonna do to me and get it over with.”

“Okay,” he said. You heard him behind you and readied yourself to get pushed over the edge or him to break something or snap your neck.

A hand grabbed yours and pulled you close into his chest as he spun you around, a pair of soft pink lips kissing you. You looked up and he smiled, wiping his thumb under your wet eyes.

“Sweetheart don’t be scared of me. I’m so tired of people I love looking at me like that. I’m not gonna hurt you. Ever. You told me the truth and that’s all that matters.”

A small part of you was still expecting him to push you but he walked you over to the other side of the path and sat you down on a large boulder beside him.

“I don’t want to work for people that would kill someone to hide my past. The world thinks my family died in a car accident. I need to set the record straight myself.”

“They’ll never let you in The Seven if you do that.”

“I don’t want to be in there with people like that. I want to be good and I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me. I’ll put it out there and then I walk. I can walk away.”

“Won’t they come after you?”

“I can blend in very easily. We can come to an arrangement,” he said. “They’ll never want me back and that’s fine. I can be good without a stupid costume.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, Dean,” you said.

“I think your friends will be as happy with you as mine are with me. We can go, anywhere you want, we’ll go,” he said.

“What happens when I get older and you don’t? Or if this is just...if it’s not something more?” you asked.

“We could try and fix that. It doesn’t bother me. I want you to be somewhere safe is all. It doesn’t have to be with me if you don’t want.”

“I have one last question. If you knew about Billy last night, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I probably deserve whatever he has in mind for me. I’ll share whatever I know with him through you but I don’t know much honestly. I guess part of me hoped you’d tell me the truth yourself. Got lucky there.”

“You used to be a dick. It doesn’t mean you deserve what he was planning,” you said. He was quiet and you sat together for a few minutes, Dean staring out at the trees. “Somewhere with lots of trees. Somewhere far away from the city, that’s where we should go.”

“I’d like that,” he said.

“Are you upset with me?” you asked.

“Not really. You’re giving me a chance. The very least I can do is return the favor,” he said.

“Can you show me the rest of the way?” you asked as you nodded up the trail.

“Yeah. Then we can go back to your place and figure out where to go from here.”

Six Months Later

“Morning,” you said, sipping on a cup of tea on the front porch. Dean shook off the rain on his coat as he stepped under the roof, smiling as you nodded to the cup sat behind you. “Out saving damsels?”

“Mrs. Riddenbaum’s cat was stuck in a tree. Again. I swear that woman sends the cat up there on purpose just to see my ass while I climb,” he said.

“Can you blame her?” you teased. He sat down in the chair and drank from his cup, shutting his eyes as he leaned back. “You okay? I heard you get up middle of the night, didn’t come back.”

“Today’s the, you know, day stuff happened,” he said.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked.

“I think they would have liked you. The kids would have at least,” he said.

“Would you ever want a family again?” you asked.

“I’m open to it. I need my head on a little straighter first it that’s alright.”

“It’s always alright,” you said. “Saw on the news they made an anti-compound V as part of the settlement for supes. You can give up your powers if you want to.”

“They contacted me last night,” he said. “I’m gonna do it.”

“You sure? It could kill you. You got the dose when you were older than the rest.”

“I was born human. I’d prefer to go out that way,” he said. “It should allow me to get old naturally now. If you think it’s too risky though I won’t.”

“Dean it’s your life. I’m part of it but you gotta do what’s best for you.”

“I’ll get back in touch with them, take the settlement. I’m ready to move on with my life, stop being a soldier.”

“Okay,” you said. You held your hand out to the side and he took it in his own, rocking back in his seat with a smile. “Thanks for saving me that night.”

“I’m sure you had it handled,” he teased. “Powers or not, I’ll still watch out for you.”

“I would expect nothing less,” you said. “Want to go for a hike after breakfast?”

“You sure? It is raining after all.”

“A little gloom never bothered me,” you said. He smiled and gave your hand a squeeze. “You’re everything my brother wanted you to be you know.”

“Being a hero is the easy part. Human, that’s harder. I’m getting there though,” he said. “Alright. I will cook us up some pancakes and eggs while you finish waking up, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you said, letting a quiet yawn escape. You burrowed down into your seat, Dean standing and kissing your temple before he headed inside. “Hey Solider Boy.”

“Yeah?” he smiled.

“Told you you’d be a good guy.”

“I had some help. Don’t stay out too long. You’ll catch cold.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “I’ll wear my thermals for the hike.”

“Good girl,” he said. He went inside and you took another sip of tea, smiling to yourself.

“I’m so happy you wound up being good, Soldier Boy.”

_________

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #au!dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #superhero!dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean x

187 notes · View notes

slidewhistlebj · 4 years

Text

With all the Wandavision hype right now, I have a X-men AU for the batfam that I wanna talk about

So in this story Gotham serves more as a mutant hub amplifying the pro and anti mutant struggles in the city than an anti-nonhuman zone, each member of the family is a meta matching one in the Magneto family from the X-men and MCU

Bruce - Magneto: Obviously as the head of the family this connection makes sense, they’re both heavily traumatized and working from that place of loss to try to make the world a better place for others. This version of them, Bruce isn’t such an overt criminal (Magneto typically commits a war crime to wake up in the morning) and he sticks with the more night time themes of Batman, he works very distantly with the Justice League typically protecting Gotham and only appearing to others for world-ending threats. His mutant rights work is as Bruce, playing political and social games that someone like him has access to via possessing an insane amount of money to change laws

Dick - Scarlet Witch: I think that Dick is strong as hell but tends to be underrated on the combat side of things in order to represent his emotional skills so Scarlet Witch is the perfect comparison (also don’t think about an angsty version of the young justice Wally West dying story with a wandavison-esque reality rewrite oof) In this story, Dick and the rest are adopted like canon but their powers all match Magnetos canon children and family. Dick grew up with Bruce, exploring his powers and limits until he became a full-fledged meta “hero” (His methods don’t always have the moral high ground but he is on the side of good) There is no robin role, but Bruce occasionally takes them out for training (the older and more control they have, the more he takes them out) Dick is the most outwardly social of the Gotham supers and he works in Bludhaven as a gymnast / gym trainer (ACAB dude, no Dick cop rights on this blog) After Jason’s death, Dick killed the Joker and began taking a more proactive role in superhero work in order to protect other kids

Jason - Polaris: Jason pushes so hard against being similar to Bruce because they are have so much of the same emotional problems / they’re so similar to one another, matching mutant abilities is the best exploration of that as Jason struggles with his identity around Bruce and his legacy as well as who he wants to be as an individual (Also her color is green, the connection to the pits is a perfect cherry on top) Jason was adopted by Bruce, they grew really close and bonded over their abilities (like the legacy of the Batman mantle, but Magneto since powers are def crucial to passing that on) Jason’s death and revival go the same as canon, but now he wears the pit colors as a sign of what happened to him and to separate himself from Bruce (Black with red is how I see Batman and Magnetos designs combining) Jason’s overly aggressive fighting tactics are against anti-mutant groups, fighting the criminals in the ways Bruce often can’t during the daytime social games he plays to change things on the legal level

Tim - Quicksilver: I’m not as sure with how Tim fits in this AU but I can see Quicksilver being a strong match as the X-man universe has set up Quicksilver and Magneto as estranged and making the choice to try to be family and support each other which is similar to Tim’s own story. Quicksilver is also light-hearted and snarky and I think Tim is a 17 year old who wants to do kick flips in the boardroom so that’s a great match. In this AU, the Drakes are pretty big anti-mutant adovocates so as Tim grew into his powers he made sure to hide them, only letting loose to follow Magneto Bruce and his family as they go out and fight criminals. Eventually he finds out who they are and when Jason dies he begins spending more time with them as support for Bruce and a safe enviornment to be himself. The Drakes aren’t dead in this AU just disconnected and travelling often so Tim has to be careful about being seen with the Wayne’s meta or day time personalities as both are very pro-mutants. His relationship with Jason and Damian is distinctly different as they’ve attacked him but he had the abilities to get away easily (The Time in a Bottle scene but it’s just Jason trying to kick Tim’s ass) and it became a more playful game / rivalry relatively quickly

Damian - Billy / Wiccan: much like canon, Damian is Bruce’s kid with Talia, raised in the league with intense training and expectations of his abilities (Powerful + Metal Control are practically his mantra), as his abilities present similarly to Dicks Ras and Talia decide that he needs to go to Gotham to learn with his father and Dick about how to control himself. Tension between Dick as his dad and Bruce as his biological father are heightened by the power similarities between Damian & Dick and Bruce & Jason and as Damian grows more powerful, needing advice and help only Dick can give him. I feel like there are so many good feels that could come from Damian eventually breaking out of his legacy under Talia and Bruce and following in Dicks steps as a (powerful as fuck) independent hero

I’m not specifically sure how the other bat kids fit into this AU but Magneto has a lot of grandkids and there are plenty of interesting way that they could fit into the story as even just talented humans who serve as medics and similar to change some of the anti-human sentiments Magneto has (Steph being the first human to join the family could stand for why she has such a rocky + independant relationship from Bruce) This has been bouncing around my head since Wandavision started and I wanted to see what other people thought about it :D

#damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #stephanie brown #AU #batfam #batfam au #superpower au #justice league meets magneto hijinks #think of the angst #think of the potential

62 notes · View notes

mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Text

Only the Good Die Young (Part 4)

Summary: You tried hard to believe that Bucky was a changed man, but he made it difficult

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout, harmful relationship with parents

Author's Note: Alright, I’ve flaked. My different-song-per-part ambitions were too high, I flew too close to the sun. I’m so sorry Billy.

---

You buried your face in his neck.

Everything he’d said was spiralling through your mind. You knew your parents well enough to know that staying with Bucky for much longer meant losing them forever. You didn’t want to go back but, if you stayed away and things didn’t work out, there was a chance you’d end up completely alone.

Bucky was a risk, a huge one. You wanted to trust him. You wanted so badly to believe that he was everything he appeared to be.

So you did.

A leap of faith. You were good at faith.

You pulled your head up, coming face to face with him. ‘I would like to get very, very drunk.’

‘Me too.’ He went to get up, but stopped suddenly and looked back at you. ‘You ever been hammered before?’

You shrugged with one shoulder, reluctant to admit further inexperience. ‘Communion wine is pretty strong stuff.’

‘Jesus. I almost feel bad, enabling sin like this.’ He sauntered to the kitchen and rifled through the cupboards, grinning in your direction when he found a half-empty bottle of tequila. ‘Almost.’

The golden liquid burned your throat as you took shot after shot, the warm glow in your chest getting stronger with every sip. This was fucking brilliant, why had you never tried it before?

‘So, here’s the plan.’ You could see that Bucky was at least a little tipsy, he’d been matching every one of your shots with three of his own. ‘I make enough money fixing bikes to keep the flat and feed us, so you can quit that fucking college course and find something you actually want to do.’

You paused for a second, processing his words. ‘Are you asking me to move in with you?’

‘Are you turning me down?’

You grinned and shook your head, making a mental note to reconfirm that in the morning when he was sober. You had hoped that he’d at least let you stay with him for the summer, but knowing that he was willing to put up with you more long-term quelled some deep anxiety you’d been harbouring for days.

You shifted your tone, trying your best to look as sober and sincere as possible. ‘Buck. You said you just want someone to talk to, right?’ He nodded, half-smirking and pushing some hair behind your ear. ‘So talk. You know so much about me, I want to know about you.’

‘What you wanna know?’

‘Tell me about your parents.’

His eyes wandered away from yours and he dropped his hand to your shoulder, wincing a little while he strung his words together. ‘Well you’ve met my dad, he’s no different now than he always was. The only time I ever hear from my ma is when she needs money. God knows what for, I don’t ask.’

‘I’m really sorry, I can’t imagine what they put you through.’

You’d never seen him so subdued. You almost felt bad for putting a damper on the evening, but you got the impression that Bucky had never spoken to anyone about this stuff before, drunk or sober.

‘Fucked me up for a long time, I did a lot of bad stuff.’ You reached out and squeezed his free hand as he was speaking, prompting his gaze to fix back on you. ‘But I don’t want to be that person anymore.’

‘You’re a good guy Buck.’ You gave him a wide smile. ‘Plus, after all those Sundays at church, the big guy owes me a couple favours. I can get that slate of yours wiped clean, no problem.’

He narrowed his eyes at you, the warm glow returning to your chest as you watched his mouth curl back into that familiar smirk. ‘You’re buzzed, ain’t ya?’

‘Should I slow down?’

‘Nope.’ He poured you both another drink. ‘Speed up.’

You didn’t ask about the things he’d done, you didn’t need to know. It was in the past, and he regretted it. That’s all that mattered to you.

The tequila was gone far too quickly. Both of you raided the cupboards again, finding a nearly empty bottle of triple sec, three cans of cider and a bottle with Russian writing that contained something resembling paint stripper.

A few hours and all that booze later, you and Bucky found yourselves tangled around each other on the bed, nursing your slowly developing headaches.

‘You’re a terrible influence, Barnes.’ You croaked into his chest.

‘I’m barely even getting started darlin.’

---

The first thing you felt in the morning was dizziness. Even before you’d opened your eyes, you knew the room was spinning around you. You adjusted yourself a little, relieved when you felt Bucky’s arms still wrapped around you and his chest against your cheek. Scooching upwards, eyes still screwed shut, you brought your face level with his.

He stirred, croaking faintly. ‘Still here. Haven’t run away yet.'

‘I feel like there’s a bee hive inside my head.’

‘Your first hangover.’ He chuckled. ‘We should celebrate. Breakfast?’

‘I’m never eating again. Or drinking. Or… moving.’

He started wriggling. ‘Well, either you move or I piss the bed.’

You flopped onto your back, the movement making your brain rattle inside your head, as Bucky scuttled to the bathroom. You started drifting back to sleep, only to be unceremoniously woken when you were hoisted off the bed and carried you through to the front room. He made breakfast while you lay on the couch, feeling sorry for yourself. You managed a few reluctant mouthfuls and a pint of water.

‘I’ve been thinking.’ Bucky piped up whilst washing the dishes. ‘When you feel a bit better we should go back to the flat. I know it’s close to your parents, but at least my dad doesn’t have keys to it.’

You considered for a second, weighing up whether you were more intimidated by your parents or his. ‘That’s fine with me. Whatever you think is best, Buck.’

---

The two of you left the trailer the next morning. You were still feeling pretty ropey, but you were at least able to walk six feet without getting dizzy. In truth, you were pretty happy to be getting away from the trailer. Aside from the stained walls and crappy shower, you hadn’t felt safe there since Bucky’s dad had burst in the other night. Christ knows what else that man was capable of.

Somehow, at some point during your first day back at the flat, Bucky had convinced you it’d be a good idea for the two of you to go out that night. He suggested his usual haunt, a bar you’d never heard of despite living in that town all your life.

It was a dive bar. You’d never been to a dive bar before, you weren’t even really sure what it meant, but as soon as you saw the outside of this place you knew. There was a flickering neon sign advertising Miller High Life above the door and bikes as far as the eye could see.

Some extremely intimidating clientele eyed the two of you as you approached, giving a gruff chuckle when you brushed past them to get to the entrance. Bucky enthusiastically greeted a few guys who were already inside. One of them you vaguely recognised from school, but the others looked quite a bit older.

You were so far out of your comfort zone in this place, every muscle in your body felt tense and you were convinced that dozens of dirty looks were being thrown your way.

‘What’ll it be then sweetheart?’ Your eyes followed the voice to a tall, brawny blonde with freakishly wide shoulders and a crooked smile.

Your mouth opened slightly as you scurried around trying to figure out what kind of alcohol was sold in a place like this, before Bucky piped up. ‘She’ll have my usual.’

You just nodded, keeping quiet for fear of coming across as the naïve religious freak in front of his friends. A few seconds later you found yourself with a pint of beer in one hand and a shot of whiskey in the other.

‘Boilermaker.’ Bucky whispered, close to your ear. ‘Proper booze, gotta make up for all that shit the other night.’

One of the friends led you towards a cramped booth with a sticky table. You found yourself tucked in between Bucky and the blonde, the former’s arm circled tight around your waist, hand resting possessively on your thigh. You didn’t speak much, only when spoken to- that was until the blonde started cross-examining you.

‘No offence, but you weren’t exactly what I was expecting.’

Great. This shit again.

‘Leave it, yeah?’ Bucky’s tone was friendly, but you could sense a hint of warning.

‘Like I said, no offence.’ He smirked. ‘She just looks a little suburban, y’know.’

Bucky got more agitated. ‘What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?’

‘Jesus, chill out Barnes. She’s not bothered, are ya?’ He nudged you hard, pushing you into Bucky’s side. You just smiled politely, a pathetic attempt to diffuse.

Progressively more irate words were thrown back and forth between them, but everyone else around the table was seemingly unfazed by the argument. It escalated quickly, resulting in blonde reaching over to yank Bucky up by the lapels, spilling a pint of beer all over you in the process. Buck shoved him off and helped you out of the booth, apologising as he ushered you towards the door.

Blonde was shouting after you, following you to the door. Just as you thought the two of you might make it out of there intact, Bucky wheeled round and punched him square in the mouth. He got a swift jab to the stomach in return and the two of them crashed into the bar, arms and legs flying in every direction.

Finally, after intervention by a couple huge biker guys, you managed to pull Bucky away. As you pushed open the front door, flashing blue lights flooded the bar. You squinted, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Cops. One of them approached you and Bucky, the same one who came to the flat after your parents reported you kidnapped.

‘Told you your time would come, boy.’ He smirked. ‘James Barnes, you’re under arrest on suspicion of assault.’

Everything said after that was drowned out by a high pitched whining that started in your ears. Buck was dragged away and shoved into the back of a car, he shouted something in your direction before the door closed but you didn’t catch it. You were reeling with shock. They pulled away, lights fading as they disappeared down the street.

There you were, completely alone. Standing in the gutter outside a dive bar, trembling and covered in beer, playing perfectly into your parents’ predictions.

What the fuck were you supposed do? Go sleep on Bucky’s doorstep, hoping he’d get released before morning? How many more times were you going to have to do that?

You couldn’t help but feel so, so stupid. You’d leapt, fallen and landed flat on your face. Maybe your mother wasn’t exaggerating, maybe she was right all along. Christ, maybe you were just some naïve, sheltered Christian kid in way over your head.

You had no choice. You went home.

---

Waking up back in your bed sent a wave of depression crashing over you. You could still smell stale beer and cigarettes, making you feel even worse.

Only your father had been awake when you timidly knocked on the door the night before. He’d stepped aside and let you in without much more than a stern look, but you were dreading having to face your mother this morning.

You sat up, the motion kick-starting yet another hangover, and walked to the bathroom. Switching on the light, you stared into the mirror and were greeted with someone you barely recognised. Your eyes were dark, bloodshot and puffy, your hair was wild from days of washing it with shower gel in the trailer’s crappy shower, your clothes from the night before were still hanging off you, stained and reeking- but you looked alive. And you felt it.

The doorbell rang.

You ran to the top of the stairs, only to see your mother standing in the doorway, face to face with Bucky. He looked awful, cuts and bruises littering his face. You stepped back slightly to hide yourself from his view.

‘Get off my property or I’m calling the police.’ Well she hadn’t changed while you’d been gone.

‘Is she here?’

Silence. You peeked round the corner to see your mother whip her phone from her pocket. Bucky shouted your name. Fuck, so much of you wanted to just run down the stairs and throw your arms round him, but you knew there was a good chance you’d just end up here again a week or so down the line.

‘Fine.’ He backed away, holding his arms out. ‘Y’know, sooner or later, it comes down to faith. Someone’s gonna help her see through all your bullshit, I might as well be the one.’

He limped down the steps and was gone from your view. Dragging yourself back into your room, you looked at your phone for the first time that morning. Twenty-five texts and eight missed calls from Bucky. Taking a deep breath, you typed a message to him.

Meet me on the bench at noon tomorrow.

---

As you turned into the park, you saw him sitting there. He looked tense, elbows resting on his thighs while he ran his fingers through his hair. As soon as he spotted you approaching he stood up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hug him, so you just perched on the other end of the bench silently. He obviously didn’t take the hint, moving closer and sitting right next to you.

You heard him chuckle. ‘Blink twice if we’re being bugged.’

You lifted your eyes, scanning them over his wounds. His knuckles weren’t even fully healed from the fight with his father. He was just cuts upon bruises upon scars and you weren’t sure if he’d ever stop adding to them.

His face dropped when he saw your obvious distress. ‘I’m really sorry y/n. I fucked up, bad.’

You just nodded, taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep your thoughts straight.

‘I know I struggle to control my anger sometimes, but you gotta believe I’m getting better. I’m not the person I used to be.’

‘You keep saying that.’ You couldn’t meet his eyes, too scared to see the hurt your words would cause him. ‘Then you do shit like this? I’m really struggling here, I-’

‘I know I’m not perfect, but I’m trying, now more than ever. Because of you.’

‘What happened the other night... I was so scared, Buck. I barely even made it out of the house to get here today.’ Tears were clouding your vision as you felt his hands grasp your firmly. ‘I can’t do that again.’

---

Part Five

---

@shawnie--jo @brilliantbellesoares @noiralei @bebeyeni @kingkassam @newyorkgoddess @livingoffsavvyillusions

I’ve bolded the names that wouldn’t let me tag, sorry guys

---

177 notes · View notes