#billy be talking about killing their friends and shit

[dyli-dadi3]

Knotting

Chris thought you two were the bestest of buds, two peas in a pod... Well, he isn't technically wrong... there is a p in a pod...

Tags: smut (p in v), knotting, mating, riding, hybrid animals (both puppies), mounting, getting caught.

Ever since that shit with Wesker and Jill back in Africa, Chris hasn’t been able to relax. He tosses and turns at night, plagued with the face of Jill, of all the citizens he had to kill just because they were robbed of their humanity. The whole debacle had left him feeling incredibly lonely and filled with the overwhelming sensation that he was never fully alone. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a second, it was like he was in Africa all over again. It got to the point where his coworkers had noticed.

—

“Hey, Chris, you’ve been acting off, lately. " One late night, a guy in HR spoke up when he decided to stay and mess with the thick stack of paperwork that was growing on his desk. 

“Really?” Chris mumbled the words, more interested in the hissing of the coffee machine that was currently spewing out the liquid gold he needed. The sound was familiar to him, something that wasn’t the screams of pain and despair that he also got familiar with.

“Yeah, it’s like you’ve been distancing yourself. It’s making your paperwork late.” The little shit huffed, crossing his arms. 

Of course, he didn’t care about him, he was just there to ensure his performance was running at full speed. Not like he expected anything else, that’s why he never really talked to the guy. He just partook in the mandatory check-ins to say what is going good and bad in management, only for nothing to be changed because it isn’t “important.” He learned pretty quickly that the BSAA was good for one thing and one thing only, fighting bioterrorism. As long as there was some new monstrosity to humans running amok, their agent’s mental health could wait. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Chris muttered, grabbing the steaming pot of instant coffee and poring it into his mug that was printed with the BSAA logo. 

“You know, I think you’re due for some company,” The guy said thoughtfully. What was his actual name again? Todd? Tom? I think it was Tom…

“How I spend my very limited free time isn’t your problem,” Chris said flatly, finally looking up at Tom. “And besides, I don’t have time to foster a new relationship.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about that,” Tim said, smiling at him like it was some kind of joke. 

I don’t have the time or patience for this.

“I’m thinking like a pet or something. Animals have been used for therapy forever. I think you need something to soften up that rough exterior of yours.” Ted chuckled, bringing his hand up to shove Chris’ shoulder. He just took a step back.

“…”

“If I can’t deal with a relationship, what makes you think that I can take care of a whole other life?” Chris huffed to save the man some embarrassment. Man, this guy was denser than that loaf of banana bread he tried to make for Jill when she joined S.T.A.R.S. with him.

“Geez, man, are you dense? I swear you live under a rock…” Timmy sighed.

Are you serious…?

“Haven’t you heard? Those new ‘hybrid’ things are all the craze right now.” If they’re being described as things, it can’t be good. “They’re humans, but animals.”

Chris raised his eyebrow at this. “First of all, how is that even possible? And second, why hasn’t the BSAA or government in general shut that down?”

“Well, the guy who was originally splicing all that DNA was arrested, but they couldn’t just kill the little fellows he made, so they put them up for sale. Not everyone could care for their new pet slash human baby, so some got loose and bred like rabbits. They’re everywhere now. Are you seriously telling me you haven’t seen one yet? News? Alley? Other friends?” Billy said.

Chris paused. “You’re telling me that there’s half animal, half-human creatures walking around the city?” The image in his mind was horrific.

“Yeah, they’re kind of cute, cute like a kid and a puppy at the same time,” Ben said with a smile. “But anyways,  brought it up ‘cause I think you’d do good with one. They’re easier to train than animals and can do all the same things we can, so you won’t feel bad for leaving them when you’re out doing that bioterrorism stuff. Brady has one.” 

“Who?” He knew a Brad once.

“...Brady? He sits right across from you.” Oh right, toupe. “Right, it’s just late,” Chris said, taking a sip of his coffee so he could at least try to properly wrap his mind around the bombshell Bill just dropped on him.

“Yeah, he says she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. But don’t tell his wife he said that.” 

Chris let out a dry chuckle, his mind moving on from the papers he had to do. Maybe he could look up these ‘hybrids’ once he got off of work.

“I’ll think about it.” He said before leaving Ben at the coffee machine.

—

It took way less effort than he expected, the papers quickly being filled out since he was getting more and more eager to find out what these hybrids looked like. If Toupe and Bennie thought they were good, as well as everyone else, they couldn’t be that ugly.

Before he knew it, Chris was sitting at his desk, the word ‘Hybrid’ typed up on his monitor. His finger governs over the enter button. Despite all the admittedly cute descriptions, he still couldn’t shake off the fear that they were just the same as all the bioengineered organisms he fought against. He’s killed his fair share of zombie dogs.

Forgetting the zombie dogs, he had always wanted a regular dog. So he amended his search, changing it to ‘Dog Hybrid’ and hit enter. 

The results were instantaneous, and he had to admit, they were pretty cute. The ones on the top of Google had round faces, chubby cheeks, bright eyes, floppy ears, and bushy tails. He then looked at maintenance. There was already an abundance of forums describing how to take care of them, what to expect depending on the type of species they derived from, and just some silly stories people wanted to share.

He was sold, and before he knew it, he had made an appointment to a shelter that houses hybrids to see if he could find one.

Of course, he always thought of having a tough-looking dog, big and fluffy. What he didn’t expect was to walk up to the front door and be greeted with two pups playfighting in the small enclosure just past the glass display. When he walked in, they both turned to look at him, yipping with pure energy.

He turned his back to them to greet the front lady who had been looking at him. “I’m here for a consultation? Last name Redfield.” 

The lady smiled, walking to the little gate on the side of her to let him in. “Just go down the hall and to the left, there’s a lady there that will help you from there.”

The lady she talked about was very sweet. She didn’t stare at him too long, or ask about his dark eyebags, or even the fact that he didn’t have unstained clothes to wear. She just asked him how much maintenance he was willing to expend for caretaking, as well as some personality inquiries. She said it was to “match him to the perfect pup,” since they only housed dogs.

With that, he was led through so many isles of dog-human things that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Despite the tempting allure of a companion to have when he came back home, it was all a spur-of-the-moment thing. He had yet to accommodate another living being in his house, and the thought of leaving a senior hybrid or puppy alone for long periods was beginning to weigh on his heart all over again.

—

“He was cute!” You said happily, flopping onto Leon’s side. “Imagine what it would be like to be adopted by him.”

It was a pastime for the two of you to look at the people who walked past and theorize about their lives, about what it would be like to be chosen by them. 

“I don’t know, he looks like he could crush my head with his bicep.” Leon grimaced, holding his head.

“Oh, but that’s the fun part!” You giggled, pressing your face to his side as your tail wags behind you. 

“I guess he looked interested.” Leon smiled, pouncing on you to nip at your neck. You squealed, trying to kick him off of you as he tried to pin you down. “Leon, that tickles!” You tried to catch your breath when he finally pulled away to sit down on the padded floor of the display case. “But that’s the fun part!” He said with a mockingly high-pitched tone as he smirked.

You huffed, jumping on top of him as you tried to repay the favor.

—

“I’m sorry, none of them called out to me,” Chris said, walking back to the front as he tried to ignore the pitiful looks of the hybrids he left behind him. Man, this was a bad idea.

“No worries, I’m glad you don’t feel the need to force yourself, we get a lot of people who fold, only to return them weeks later saying that they couldn’t deal with it.” The lady smiled, waving goodbye as Chris entered the front of the shelter again. 

He tried to ignore the way the two of you immediately stopped playing to lean up against the barrier of your enclosure. Both of your tails wagged, and he tried to push out the sound of “He didn’t get anyone! Do you think he came back for us?” coming from your sweet mouth. 

God, this was a bad idea.

“Are the ones in the front available?” He found himself asking the first lady. “Those two?” He awkwardly pointed at the two pups that were climbing over each other now that he specifically pointed them out. 

“I knew it!”

“We’re free!”

“Of course! They sure are the energetic type… Are you sure you’ll be able to handle them?” The lady said softly. He couldn’t blame her, he had answered her caregiving question with low maintenance.

“Don’t listen to her! We’re well-behaved!”

“Yeah! We’re so good!”

“I’m positive that we’ll be fine.” Chris smiled. No, I’m not, but I can’t say no to those cute faces…

“Well then, just sign these papers right right here for adoption, and then they’re all yours.” The lady smiled, reaching underneath her desk to produce two packets of papers. On the top of each of them were your names. The handwriting was messy, but the glitter pen used on yours made him realize that the two of you signed your names yourselves. The realization was heartwarming, and with the revelation, he could see the personality woven into the childish signatures. This was going to end up great.

—

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

God, he couldn’t have been more wrong. The two of you were endless bounds of energy, like two Tasmanian devils living in his flat. He had thought that the two of you were more human than dog, able to have self-control and discipline like Benjamin had said, but he quickly realized that he adopted two puppies that took a liking to chewing up all the shit in his house no matter how many times he said no. 

But he was a man, a stubborn one at that, and he was determined to give the two of you a forever home.

He’s had to put child-proofing on almost all of his furniture and cabinets so that you two didn’t get into his stuff or shred the legs of all his furniture to shit. Eventually, he had to go back to work, where he’d look the two of you in the eye and say “Be good” like a disapproving father before leaving. No matter what was happening at work, his mind was preoccupied with all the things the two of you could be getting up to. He was starting to think of getting a sitter.

When he came home, his blood ran cold. Pained whimpering. Did somebody get hurt? Was someone in danger? 

He rushed into his house, finding the source of his sudden anxiety spark. You. His jaw grew slack as he saw you straddling Leon’s thigh, the poor pup fast asleep as you rutted against him. “Hey!” He gasped, grabbing your arm and pulling you off of him. “No! That’s bad!” He admonished you, his ears aflame as he watched you whine and squirm in his grasp. He didn’t know what to do, and he would rather go back to Africa than see that again.

“N-No, feels good! I feel funny, and it helps.” You huffed, kicking your legs. 

All the ruckus woke up Leon, his eyes fluttering open as his pupils focused on your whining form. “Huh?” He said softly, sniffing the air and leaning in closer. “Dad… She smells sweet, what’s wrong?” he said thoughtfully, bringing his nose to her crotch and sniffing. 

Oh god. “First of all, I told you, I’m not your Dad. Secondly, you need to back up. She’s…sick.” He said tentatively, not wanting to even think about what she’s feeling right now. “Sick?” You said softly, looking up at him with big eyes and a tail between your legs. 

“You’ll be fine; you just need to stay in your room for a bit to cool off; it’ll feel better.” Maybe if she stays alone for a bit, she won’t go into a full-blown heat… 

—

That didn’t work. 

You were fine for a bit, cooling down and reporting that the feeling in your tummy went away, but as soon as he brought you to the same room as Leon, you’d complain all over again. He didn’t know what to do, he read about this, but he supposed that it was his fault for not asking more questions about the… condition the two of you were in. Well, he guessed that he should have asked way more questions.

But these were the cards he was dealt, and he couldn’t keep an eye on you forever, so he left work today with a very serious talk to Leon. “Don’t let her touch you, no matter how much she begs. And if you want to nap, please sleep in your room. Alone.” 

Simple, precise, and direct. Of course, he had already told you about what was happening. That it was completely normal, but that it needed to be controlled. He just hoped that you wouldn’t have to suffer for so long. He was already looking up vets to have you spayed.

—

“Dad said we can’t!” Leon sighed, trying to keep his distance as your sickeningly sweet scent saturated the air around him. He could practically see the way it colored the atmosphere. All pink and flowery and like candy. It made his head spin and cock twitch. Wait, that was new. “But it hurts, Leon! I’m all hot and achey and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better. Don’t you wanna make me feel good?” You pouted, walking closer to him again. Only this time, he didn’t take a step back.

“We’ll be quick, he won’t even know! Dad said it’s normal!” You argued your case, coming in closer and closer. 

“I suppose… You do feel sick.” Leon sighed, sitting down on the couch. You immediately crawled into his lap, whimpering as you pressed your slicked-up pussy against his thigh, the wetness permeating through the pair of soft shorts you wore. Leon groaned, the smell of your arousal making him feel dizzy but good at the same time. “Maybe this isn’t so bad…” He said as you rutted against his thigh. “D-Do you need anything?” He asked, hands hovering over your hips. “You. Oh my god, you smell so good, Leon.” You groaned, burying your nose into his neck and inhaling. 

Leon had no idea what was going on, only that you were sick and maybe he was getting sick, too. His skin felt feverish, and now there was a throbbing in his pants that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. He was drawn to the scent, not like he needed to be pulled, you were drowning him in it. Choking him with your intoxicating scent that made his hips buck and his mouth water. He knew he should be stopping this before it got too far, but the voice in his head was screaming more, more, more! He groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight hug, pulling you in closer to rut against his erection. 

“Oh god, yes, Leon!” You sobbed, unsure whether to continue indulging in the pleasure of the now or try and soothe the ache deep inside of you. But you had to, the throbbing was borderline painful.

You slipped out of your shorts, tugging his cock out of his sweats. You didn’t know how, but it was like you knew that this was what you needed, the voice in your head yipping in glee. You paused when Leon whimpered, his hips jerking, jolting you up with him. “That feels good, too?” You asked. 

“Yeah, feels good…” He whined, gripping the fat of your hips. Never in his life has he felt this good, like putting ice on a burn, eating watermelon in the hot summer heat, or eating a sandwich after getting out of the pool. All the static in his brain cleared, and all that was left was the overwhelming urge to do something with you. He didn’t know what, but he felt like this was as close as it was going to get.

God, was he wrong. There was something better, and it was called ‘being deep inside your best friend as she bounced on your lap like a professional pogo stick rider.’

He was cussing like a sailor as you engulfed him, everything coming full circle as he realized that this was what he was meant to do for the rest of his life. Nothing else he would ever do would compare. He was sure of it. Your pussy was like a godsend and he couldn’t get enough. He tightened his grip, snapping his hips up into your sopping heat as he pulled you down, trying to get as deep as possible. It wasn’t enough, there was a missing piece. 

You were a trembling mess, clenching around him and making him whine as he tried to go faster, feeling a ball of something wind up in his chest. “O-Oh my god, Leon, I-I feel something.” You gasped as he groaned, shoving the both of you to the ground as he mounted you. He pushed you into the ground as he arched your back, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace as his voice grew higher and whinier. “M-Me, too. Wan’it.” He whimpered, moving faster, until he nearly screamed, your pussy clamping down on him as you came. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, the need to fuck you overwhelming. But he didn't last much longer. In just moments, he was cumming ropes and ropes of thick cum into your pussy. The whole thing was overstimulating and honestly a little terrifying. All of the dizziness went away, there wasn't a trace of static, nor was there a voice begging for more. He suddenly felt complete, and that was alarming, not to mention the fact that his dick was swelling inside of you. “H-Hey, are you okay?” He said in alarm. Despite your moans, the feeling of stretching your pussy like this made him nervous.

“So good… Feel so much better…” You mumbled into the hardwood, eyes droopy and body like putty. “That's good…” Leon murmured, finally relaxing with your confirmation and tugging you with him as he flopped to the side, spooning you. He stayed still, his body automatically knowing the process. It was as if he was on autopilot. The thought made him chuckle. He was made to please you.

—

Chris dropped all his things at the front door when he saw the two of you fast asleep.

“Shit!”

I love puppy Leon so much it's not even funny. Trust that he will be back for more.

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Stuilly be like:

[hauntingblue]

Max and anne I am holding you both carefully in my hands

[wonderjanga]

Frenemies

Black Adam and Captain Marvel hate each other. It’s a well-known fact, or at least Black Adam hates Captain Marvel. To be honest, Marvel doesn’t really show much hatred towards him. So… yeah. Though, to be honest they’re more arch frenemies than enemies. But don’t worry, they’re still plenty enemies. This post is connected to the post about Marvel beating the shit out of Adam for not paying him back his five dollars. (I Want My Money post)

Mary: *in Marvel form* “Captain! Captain, you jerk, where are you?!” *looking for Billy*

Marvel and Adam: *drinking smoothies together on a rooftop*

Mary: “There you are- Why are you drinking smoothies with Adam?”

Marvel: “Why not?”

Mary: “Just yesterday, he slammed you through a bus.”

Black Adam: “It's in the past.” *sips smoothie*

Mary: “Is it though?”

Marvel: “Yeah.” *sips his smoothie*

She ended up joining them and got a smoothie of her own in the end. Surprisingly, when Adam isn’t trying to kill either of them, she’ll begrudgingly admit he’s okay to talk to. She doesn’t know how Billy’s so chill around him. (It’s because Billy is Billy “no danger awareness” Batson. I’ve seen the comic panels of him barely blinking at a murderer or something trying to kill him)

Marvel: “I gotta go early guys.” *stands up to leave*

GL(John Stewart): “Gotta date?”

Marvel: “Nope. Dinner with a friend”

Aquaman: “Ooooooh who? Bigfoot?”

Marvel: “I already told you, she prefers to be called Rhonda. And no. It’s Teth.” (Marvel and the Supernatural post)

GL: “Teth? Is that another hero?”

Marvel: “No. You guys know him as Black Adam.”

*silence*

Aquaman: “Is this a Batman-Catwoman situation?”

GL: “You’re never letting Bruce live that down are you?”

Marvel: “No? We’re just friends?”

GL: Wait but I thought he was your arch enemy?

Marvel: “…Yes.” *has never once thought of Adam as an arch enemy* (He once admitted this to Adam and uh… the guy wasn’t really happy. His hurt was like the equivalent of thinking someone’s your best friend, but they don’t think the same)

Aquaman: “Yet you can call him your friend and go out to dinner?”

Marvel: “Yes. But only sometimes. Right now we’re friends. Tomorrow, probably not.”

GL and Aquaman: *share looks* “Okay…?”

The JL thinks their frenemiship is strange. So does everyone else.

Marvel: “Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?” *punches him*

Black Adam: “Yes.” *kicks him*

Marvel: “Are you still bringing that Khandaq dish you mentioned?” *grabs and throws him*

Black Adam: *rushes over to tackle him* “If you even live to see tomorrow, yes!”

Junior: “DUDE ARE YOH SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT DINNER PLANS MID FIGHT??” *nearby nearly knocked out because earlier Adam delivered a foul punch to his stomach and sent him flying*

By the way, this isn’t some Uncle Adam type nonsense. Adam genuinely thinks Billy is just a hyperactive man child. As for why Teth chooses to spend his time with him every now and then? He’ll never know. (He doesn’t have any other friends. There’s also the fact the man child makes decent conversation. (Billy’s carrying most of the conversation))

[kennahjune]

Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

[vijaxx]

tell me that i'm pretty, tell me that i'm yours.

summary: on a late night in la, you and billie have a talk.

warnings: fluff (?), suggestive, smoking, deep talks

"you shouldn't do that, you know".

billie jumped in surprise at your voice coming from behind her as she smoked on the balcony. she shrugged absentmindedly and lit another cigarette. "how many is this?" you asked, walking up to lean on the railing next to her.

the lights of la gleamed in the midnight blue sky, a slight chill through the air. "fourth," she replied, "but it's not a big deal". you never liked when she smoked, but there was an aura around her as she did it, never making eye contact with you as she brought the lit cigarette to her lips.

the smoke danced around her, and you could tell that this was to calm her nerves. "you know i don't like when you smoke," you slouched against the railing, looking at her pretty eyes that were focused on the scenery. "i know you do." she murmurred, running a hand through her hair.

the silence wasn't uncomfortable, but things needed to be said. "i've never smoked," you admitted, laughing dryly. she then made eye contact with you for the first time. "you haven't?" billie asked, "you seem like a stoner." you tilted your head to the side, "i'm not against marijuana. just cigarettes and vapes. that shit kills you."

billie nodded in understanding. "i could show you how." your eyes widened. there was nothing to lose. it was a peaceful night in la, you were on a balcony with your pretty best friend, and about to have the most homoerotic experience with her if you agreed. so you nodded. going against every moral you had, you caved as her pretty lips curled into a smile.

"atta girl," she responded, her ever present smirk on her face. "part your lips," she murmured cupping your jaw and squeezing your cheeks, encouraging your mouth to open. she placed the cigarette against your lips carefully, tugging on your bottom lip before letting it snap back into place.

"breathe." she commanded. you took a sharp breath at her words, inhaling quickly and coughing. "slow down, sweet girl." your mind went blurry as she called you petnames and the quick inhalation of nicotine hit.

"try it again." she placed it against your lips, as you breathed calmly, inhaling the smoke. "there we go. that's my good girl." you felt your cheeks heat as she toyed with you.

by the time you were completely high (and so was she), she started kissing your neck. "god you're such a fucking pretty girl," she groaned against your neck, biting at the sensitive skin.

as you let out woozy whimpers, she rested her hand on your thigh, liting another cigarette for herself. "do you want one?" she asked, tender eyes meeting yours.

you'd do anything to make this moment last, "yeah. yes please." she chuckled at your politeness, "baby has manners, no?". you flushed and reached for her lighter as she handed you a cigarette, but she moved it away.

instead, she leaned towards you and lit yours with hers. "that's it. nice and slow, baby." she cooed as you took more daring breaths.

it wasn't until the next morning that the high had worn off, and that you were in her bed, naked.

you had a lot to talk about.

a/n: hiiii so i wrote this cause i could <3

👾 : @47lake , @hkkuugu , @st0nerlesb0 , @n0vabug , @everythingtruly, @eeuni

[creamybeemovie69]

Some of my favourite little details in avatar: frontiers of pandora

The two guards outside the council room in the aranahe hometree that just chat shit? All the time? Even during that last confrontation with Etuwa's father they're just stood chatting about someone's poor foraging skills or some shit it's so funny

The fact that the camera lowers when you're speaking to humans, which I know is probably so we can get a good look at them but I chose to believe it's because your sarentu slowly kneels until they're eye level with them

Nefika and Relun's dynamic of miserable old man and batshit crazy old woman

Whatever the fuck Okul's got going on. Gender? Babes they're clinically insane, they're too busy running into poisonous gas to worry about gender

The sleeping pod things hanging from the ceiling in the hometree. It took me forever to work out where they were all sleeping because there was no way they were all fitting in that one sleeping den

"it is sound proof Priya."

Anqa forgetting her training and getting attacked by wasps because she's too busy thinking about Priya

Hajir and Alex planning to have tea, no one talk to me

Daniella being this very capable badass soldier with a hardened exterior and her himbo husband who's just happy to be there as long as there's wood to whittle and food to cook

The sarentu humming sarentu songs while they cook

Zomey refusing to leave the plane until she saw Eetu get out

The resistance humans wearing clothes that have been altered/repaired by Na'vi weavers

Minang losing her shit and charging the base in the plains despite being the calmer, more collected one? Good shit.

That little detail in the cloud spitter description that says kids make a game of seeing how close they can get to the plant without triggering it

"I can still smell the chemicals" just kill me now I can't take this

Every single individual human having to ask Jake Sully for permission to stay on the planet. Were they forced to go back to the RDA if he said no? Or were they just left to die out on pandora?

The ferals being unable to communicate with eachother and being so angry because they're so lonely

Kin, Relun and the Kame'tire trader all being friends before the Kame'tire were banished

Priya not being able to talk to Alma in her human form because her avatar was her friend

Nor just. Disappearing? Where did he go? Is he okay? Why can't I go looking for him?

The Na'vi naming options for your Ikran being the names of other kids in TAP

So'lek collecting the identity tags of the soldiers he kills

So'lek in general actually. "This dReAmWaLkEr decided to lock you up in a box instead 👀"

Alex being granted permission to stay on pandora because he wanted to keep Grace's legacy alive through his work. Why is this never mentioned anywhere but in his character description?

The comic book pages

The fact that Priya dyes her hair. Are you actually telling me this excitable little climatologist worked out how to make hair dye from pandoran plants before Alex figured out how to eat any of it?

Anqa's fucking "my land was invaded too". Give this head-empty lesbian a break man

Everyone hating Billy because they think he can't be trusted only for him to be one of the most loyal among them

Etuwa's father refusing to fight because he lost his wife, then deciding to fight because he won't let them take his daughter too

"what have they done to you, my beautiful?" Actually sobbing like a fucking baby rn

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

Part 1: Mandibles!

First off, I want to say thank you all for giving the first part of my theory such love! I appreciate each and every one of you and I'm so happy that you all like my theories so much!

For those who are new here, the Arsonist Theory proposes that Bill wasn't alone in destroying his dimension- rather, he was used by a third party. This is part two of four, with the remaining two parts coming out very, very soon.

Also, same as before:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING SOLUTIONS TO CIPHERS

Let's get into it, shall we?

In The Great Gatsby, certain motifs have more than one symbolic meani-- no, really, stay with me here!!

...Okay, fine. Let's back up.

In the Book Of Bill, you'll find a webpage called thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com. Go there, and you'll be prompted to enter a password. Go back to the Book of Bill, and hidden in a stretched-text section, you'll see the phrase NEED A PASSWORD? FINE, I'LL TALK / IT'S THE NAME OF THE EYEBALL DOC.

"The eyeball doc" is from the excerpts of The Great Gatsby further back in the book-- T.J. Eckleburg.

(Honestly, this explanation is moreso that context doesn't get lost to time.)

So... Gatsby. T.J. Eckleburg.

Hirsch could have chosen any number of public domain novels for that gag in the book... so why this one? Why tie it in by making it the password?

I believe it has some significance to the greater plot. Furthermore, eye doctors in general are a large point of Bill's early life in Euclidia. Take the silly straws- the red one has a numeric cipher, while the other three use a Caesar cipher.

In the order of RGBY, they read as follows:

TWISTED OUT OF SHAPE AFTER THE KILL / THE GHOSTS OF HIS FAMILY ARE HAUNTING HIM STILL Eye doctor of a different kind / Who wants to make his patients blind The doctor says / Three sips a day / Will make the visions / Go away Fussy eater / Baby Billy / Wouldn't drink / Unless it's silly

These ciphers refer to a certain couple of tidbits Bill tells us about his home.

One- He could see the third dimension. A rare mutation.

Two- Talking about it at all was illegal.

So, what were his parents to do when their son started talking about nonsense that was illegal to even mention? Well, if your child started acting strange and seeing things that weren't there... you would take them to the doctor.

It's clear to me that Bill's parents were concerned about the "visions" their son was experiencing, and took him to the doctor to cure them- an eye doctor that wants to make his patients blind. The blue straw explains how the medicine is supposed to work. The yellow straw explains why Bill has such a fondness for silly straws- he was a picky little kid, and hated his medicine, so his parents got him silly straws to drink it out of.

I wonder if that's why he collects them- because they remind him of home, of his mother urging him to take his medicine, of his life before all of this happened.

But never mind all that.

The thing is, an eye doctor is crucial to Bill's past, which of course brings me back to T.J. Eckleburg.

In The Great Gatsby, certain motifs have more than one symbolic meaning, and the eyes of T.J. Eckleburg are no exception.

(Okay full disclosure, I have not actually read Gatsby and I'm Sparknotes-ing this shit. But, so did all of you when you were assigned this in high school, so we're even.)

They appear on a billboard in a place called the Valley Of Ashes, and at first, they seem to symbolize God. But as the scenes continue, they take on a different meaning.

See, our POV character, Nick, is going on this journey to meet the mistress of his friend. Nick is aware that this is an immoral action, yet does it anyway. Now, the eyes of Eckleburg cast judgement... along with issue a warning.

They now take on a new meaning-- a foreboding omen about the tragedy that lies in wait, inching ever closer. The tragedy in Gatsby being the death of Myrtle, the mistress, and subsequent string of deaths that follow it-- and, curiously, Nick states that the eyes of Eckleburg almost supernaturally draw him someplace... which ends up being where Myrtle is.

Both a higher being, and a warning of a horrible tragedy that ends in death upon death upon death... curious!

What's more curious is when Bill is admonishing the story and Un-Gatsby-ing us, he says this:

The billboard is a metaphor? Why mention that? Out of all the symbolism in this book, why the billboard? Is it because it was mentioned in the preceding pages? Then why mention the theme of the American Dream being a myth? That wasn't on those pages! If you had to mention symbolism, the green light would have been the most iconic example of it from the book.

So why the billboard?

Is, perhaps, the image of some sort of higher power watching you, admonishing you of the tragedy you will have a hand in causing, supernaturally pulling you to someone that will be the catalyst for it all.... relevant somehow, to Bill?

(And, as a sidenote- the theme of the American Dream being hollow could also apply here, as Bill got what he wanted- freedom into the third dimension, Weirdmageddon, all of it. But he's still not happy and still wracked with guilt over Euclidia, ultimately an interloper in a place he doesn't belong in, just as Nick says at the end of the novel that he is a Midwesterner unsuited to life in the East Coast city.)

Let's talk about Flatland.

It's interesting to note that in the original novel, A. Square does have help witnessing the third dimension-- a Sphere contacts him, and tells him about the third dimension, intending to use the Square as a conduit to educating the rest of Flatland.

This, of course, leads to mass imprisonments and executions, one of said imprisonments being of the Square's own brother, with the Square being imprisoned himself at the end of the book.

Point being... in the original story of Flatland, the two-dimensional outsider was visited by a higher being, one that used him to alter Flatland and only ended up causing chaos and ruining lives.

All I'm saying is, the Book of Bill and Bill's story in general draws parallels to two existing books-- Flatland, and now The Great Gatsby. It would be foolish to write this off as a random occurrence when the game of Gravity Falls has always been analyzing the smallest of details. I believe the choice in book was on purpose, and moreso, that it was specifically used to hint that maybe Bill wasn't alone in all this. There was some kind of higher being that influenced him, just as the Square was influenced. That looked down upon him with impossibly wide eyes, pulling him closer and closer to ruin.

Oh, by the way-- Bill up there mentions being touchy about his weaknesses ever since... something. This is clearly his death, but... is that all he means? But that's gonna be in part four.

Next time, it's all about the many cycles and the distinct breaking of them present in Gravity Falls itself, and what that means for Bill as the villain and foil to them.

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

[coconut-dreamz]

gorgeous

"you've ruined my life, by not being mine" || tom blyth x actress! reader

a/n: i'm baaaack, with more ts and love for tom blyth

you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

you were at out at a local bar with some of your cast mates from tbosas. you were sitting with rachel and you were mocking tom's british accent. the two of you were laughing at your terrible impression. "why does he say that! it's so funny!" rachel laughs.

"what are you two laughing about?" tom's walks over from the other side of the table. "nothing" you both mumble out, sharing a look. "sounded like you were having a lot of fun earlier" he adds, you laugh at this. "sounded like you were having a lot of fun earlier." you repeat in a british accent, mimicking tom.

rachel bursts out laughing at this. tom just gives you two a look like you'd both gone insane. "making fun of me now?" he asks, as you lose it. "maybe," you make out between laughs. "that's not very nice." he says in a jokingly stern voice. "sorry, we just think your normal accent is so funny." rachel explains as you continue to laugh.

exasperated, tom leaves, going to find the company of people who won't laugh at him when he speaks. this causes the two of you to laugh even harder.

you should think about the consequence off your magnetic field being a little too strong

somehow, you always found yourself gravitating towards tom. whether you're on the opposite side of the room from him, you always find yourself right by him within a matter of minutes. he had a weird pull on you.

you had been talking with an actor that played one of the background academy students when you heard tom's laugh from across the room. it distracted you from the conversation you were having. she seemed to have noticed your lack of attention and just smirked. "go ahead," was all she said and nodded her head towards tom. you thanked her and left towards him.

he smiled as he saw you approaching the group, opening his arms to you for a hug. you sighed contently as his arms around you. "how are you?" he whispered in your ear. "better now that you're here." you admitted

and i got a boyfriend, he's older than us he's in the club doing, i don't know what

your boyfriend had just texted you telling you he was going out with some friends for the night. it was morning for you, being on the opposite side of the planet from him. hearing that from him, you knew you'd probably be seeing some headlines of him in the morning, or night for you.

things were strained lately, with you being busy with back to back projects and him, honestly not doing shit. it made him feel emasculated knowing you were currently the it girl and he was just known as your boyfriend. he was a bit older and no longer in his prime and no longer booking big projects.

you're so cool, it makes me hate you so much whiskey on ice, sunset and vine

you were on a break from filming so you, rachel, tom and josh decided to go to la and soak in some sun. you four were out at dinner. and tom was telling you all about what it was like filming for billy the kid.

he was nursing a whiskey and ice, recounting all the notable parts of filming. it made you so jealous. he was just so damn cool. this was not helping your giant crush on him.

you've ruined my life, by not being mine you're so gorgeous

you and tom were sitting in your trailer, just basking in the peace and quiet. it wasn’t everyday that you got to sit and relax and enjoy some coffee and mediocre croissants.

it killed you knowing that tom wasn't yours. you even broke up with your loser boyfriend. "god, you're so fucking gorgeous." you mutter under your breath while sitting with tom enjoying coffee. "what was that?" he looks up from his book. "huh, oh nothing!" you blurt out, not realizing you said that out loud, taking a sip of your coffee.

i can't say anything to your face 'cause look at your face

"hunter, why's he so damn gorgeous. i can't handle it!" you shout to hunter. you were all gathered in some local bar. you longingly stared at tom from across the bar. "girl, i don't know. tell him yourself." she answers blandly. "i can't! nothing ever comes out of my mouth when i try to talk to him. he must think i'm some type of weirdo!" you exclaim, annoyed by the beauty of that gorgeous, gorgeous man standing across the crowded room.

and i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way but what can i say? you're gorgeous

"oh my god! i'm so mad!" you randomly shout as you third wheel rachel and josh in rachel's trailer. "what is it now?" josh asks, tired of your antics. "we all know it's tom. it's always tom." rachel answers for you. "i'm so furious that he makes me feel this way, but he's not mine!" you dramatically flop onto the couch.

josh shakes his head hearing this, "then tell him how you feel!" he advises you. "i can't! he's too gorgeous for me!" you reply, fake crying into the pillow. the two roll their eyes at your dramatics. you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you

it was finally the end of filming, so the director threw a wrap party. you waltzed around the room, talking to nearly every single person. everyone but tom.

"why won't she talk to me? is she mad at me?" tom asks hunter. she gives rachel a knowing grin. "i don't think she's mad at you, but you should ask her yourself." rachel adds, pushing him towards you.

tom decided he had enough of you ignoring him and walked towards you, interrupting your conversation. "hey, can i talk to you?" he asks, you simply nod, too nervous to speak.

and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in the darkened room

he grabs your hand and leads you to a dark corner of the venue the party was being held. "did i do something wrong?" he asks, a concerned look on his face. "no! not at all!" you exclaim, trying to alleviate his thoughts. "i've just been feeling nervous around you lately."

if you've got a girlfriend, i'm jealous of her but if you're single that's honestly worse 'cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

you weren't sure of tom's relationship status, he never mentioned anything about having a girlfriend and you never mentioned anything about being in a relationship either. not that you even were in one anymore.

a part of you wanted him to be single, but a part of you hoped he wasn’t. it was honestly worse if he was single. it probably meant he wasn't interested then.

ocean blue eyes looking in mine i feel like i might sink and drown and die

you stare into his blue eyes. you never realized how blue they were. they were like oceans. all you wanted to do was swim in them, or even drown in them. they were so gorgeous, just like him. "have your eyes always been so blue?" you ask aloud, staring deeply into his eyes.

you make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you loved spending time with tom. he made you happy. but there was always a sad feeling that's fill your heart when you thought about how he wasn't yours.

"are you single, tom?" you break the silence after your precious confession. this question shocks tom for a moment. "yeah, why?" he asks a little confused by your conversation now. "can i kiss you?" you whisper out, inching closer to him.

he doesn't answer and instead slams his lips onto your own. after a few moments of passionate kissing, you pull apart. "you don't know how long i've been waiting to do that." tom whispers, his face still only inches from you. "god, you're so gorgeous" you mutter out.

[loseractivities]

Ok time to yap about Billy Loomis. What is bros sexuality?

Billy is 100% gay. I also think that he’s on the aromantic/asexual spectrum, with the best label fitting him being demiaroace. In simple terms, I think the only way he feels authentic romantic/sexual attraction is when he has a very deep emotional, (whether he likes to admit that or not), bond with someone.

People often like to bring up his romantic relationship with Sidney and his sexual affairs with other women, one of which we have proof of in the later movies. Because he was dating Sidney before his mom even left, and they were known to have started off “hot and heavy”, (as Billy likes to call it), he didn’t really have any reason to be doing that. Or did he?!

It goes without being said that Billy is a conventionally attractive white male in the ‘90s. In the movie, we already see Billy’s efforts to appear as normal as possible, wearing bland clothes with little room for interpretation and speaking very little to others. Which leads to why Billyboy was sleeping with girls when he was a big fat QUEER!! …

Billy loves control! He loves it, he loves planning everything out and acting it out like it’s a movie because of his dumb special interest. He loves predictability, he loves feeling normal, and he loves having control over people. What better way to feel in control, (perhaps of his own sexuality), than by sleeping with and casually dating girls!! It makes so much sense.

How does Stu play into this?

Well firstly Stu is Billy’s only real friend. Through subtext we can tell that Billy trusts Stu a lot, considering he trusted him to 1. Call Sidney while he was in jail. 2. Be ghostface with him and have him not tell anyone. 3. Literally fucking stab him… The list goes on. People like to say that Stu didn’t know Billy’s real motive too, which is fucking stupid because why wouldn’t Billy tell him this?? One entire year between murdering Sidney’s mother and then eventually attempting to murder her and all her friends, and you’re telling me Stu wouldn’t have suspected a thing? Just for fun?? Yeah right!

Also people try to say “okay, well then why did Billy stab him so much in the kitchen if he wasn’t trying to kill him”? Firstly it was always part of the plan for Stu and Billy to be the only survivors because only one survivor is extremely suspicious. Secondly you can tell he was just not thinking clearly, he acted on his anger and lost focus of his goal (KILLING SIDNEY??NOT HIS BF??) which is something he NEVER DOES!!

Man,, the whole final act is my favorite, because it really shows both Billy and Stu coming apart and quite literally COMING OUT as the killers. Come on guys. Media. Fucking. Literacy. They literally penetrate each other right in front of Billy’s girlfriend, and that shit was freaky as fuck.

ANYway I’m going off on a tangent. I do wanna talk about why Billy didn’t explicitly say anything about being gay when he so very obviously is. Billy, in all areas, is much less obvious than Stu.

He’s closed off, secretive, keeps up a pretty believable facade to everyone until the finally is able to drop the act. It makes sense he isn’t as physically or verbally affectionate with Stu, and for this reason people are more inclined to believe Stu is gay and in love with Billy more than Billy is gay and in love with him. Well, in order to get a good sense of Billy’s relationship with Stu, you have to look deeper. Let’s start with some things from the script, since there are very few scenes with the two interacting.

Stu and Billy, in the script, are best friends, have known each other since kindergarten, and are partners in crime. Billy obviously is capable of forming strong bonds and connections with very specific people. Even unhealthily so, and we see this in the relationship he has with his mother. He idolizes her, victimizes her, makes her more than she was as a coping mechanism and never officially comes to terms with the fact his mom probably wasn’t as great as he remembers. And when his mom leaves, he breaks, needs control (as stated previously) because his life is suddenly unstable and who does he turn to? Stu!

Also I just wanna say when Stu drapes over his back Billy leans into him okay thanks. Body language in this movie means SO FUCKING MUCH TO ME these actors did amazing. When Billy follows Sidney inside the look of CONTEMPT ON HIS FACE!! The way he looks through his eyelashes. The acting is impeccable Skeety, I love you!!!! 😐😐 Also the way Billy looks at Stu before stabbing himmm…He;s in love I promise. In whatever way he knows how

Lastly the boy has autism

Passionate interests, he loves horror movies and constantly references them throughout the film. Even at unconventional times, like when his girlfriend is venting about her dead mother. Eye contact and too much staring. Meltdowns when overstimulated. The whole last act was just him stimming and destroying shit because stuff didn’t go his way. Bad reactions when plans are interrupted. At the staircase when Sid runs away he punches himself in frustration. Talks with hands in Sidney’s room about The Exorcist. Favorite person/people (his mom and Stu). Extremely overdramatic. When he got fake stabbed. When he falls down the fucking stairs for no reason. Finally, just socially awkward. Any word out of his mouth makes people uneasy. Ez

…Finally for Billy I js wanna say he arches it a lot and I think only someone who takes it like a good boy wpu;ld do that Ok im done by.e

LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THIS ONE

[luvpalepinkjazz]

Slasher Headcanons!

Author note : this is my first time ever writing something like this so please be nice 😅

Michael Myers

• He's not really a touchy kind of guy,he likes his personal space a lot.

And he will freeze up when he is touched, (hug/arm touch etc.)

•Has a BIG sweet tooth. He loves candy, it doesn't matter the type he will eat it.

•Doesn't care what you look like,he's seen a lot of people in his life while killing so nothing affects him.

•After a killing spree he will walk into your house and just stand there until you notice him, covered in blood and wounds waiting for you to help him.

•Buddy can NOT cook at all. You will have to cook everything unless you want your house burned down.

•He will follow you in the shadows when you go outside, and he will kill anyone who tries flirting/talking with you (even if it's a small “hello”).

Jason Vorhees

•Soft boy, he loves hugs. Any type of hug, he loves feeling your warmth on his cold body.

•He likes to bring you small things from the woods, such as small flowers, rocks, etc.

•Same with Michael,he does not care what you look like, he will love you no matter what.

•When people come to the camp he locks you in a cabin for your safety, he'd be crushed if his love got hurt by stupid people.

•DAILY cuddles from this man at night before you go to bed.

•He loves when you kiss his mask,it makes him happy.

Brahms Heelshire

•The second you stepped into the house he instantly knew he was never going to let you leave.

•He likes watching you “take care” of him through the wall. He loves seeing you take care of the doll like it's a real person.

•When Malcolm comes to deliver the groceries, Brahms is jealousy watching the whole interaction. He does not like you talking to Malcolm.

•When he shows himself to you, (which scares the shit out of you) he'll just look at you before walking towards you calling your name in his child voice.

•Runs at the word “BATH”. It's a struggle to get bro in the tub/shower.

•Again, he does not care what you look like.

•You are NOT allowed outside because he thinks you'll leave him.

Stu Macher

•Such a silly boy, he LOVES physical touch. He will always be attached to your hip(except when killing obviously).

•Picks you up and throws you on his shoulder (like how he did with Tatum in the movie) and giggles.

•Sneaks through your window just to see you. At random times to (ex. 3AM..)

•He Tries everything to make sure you don't find out he's a murderer and tries to not get you roped in.

•He will comfort you when one of your friends dies (acting like he didn't commit the murder before coming over to your house at night…)

•When a dude flirts with you he will appear out of nowhere and grab you waist and put his head on your shoulder saying something like “heyyy babeeeeee”.

Billy Loomis

•Serious in public but when behind doors he's soft. Hugging and kissing your face while muttering how much he loves you .

•Like Stu, he will also sneak into your room through the window.

•The second a dude approaches you, Billy scares them off with his dirty look. He gets VERY jealous.

•Like Stu, he also tried his hardest to not let you find out about him being a murderer. And keep you away from it ,you will not be a part of his “horror movie”.

•Very possessive. You are his and only his,he makes that very clear.

•Much like Stu, if one of your friends dies, he will hug you and comfort you (again acting like he didn't commit the murder).

[scentedpepper]

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

[steddie-island]

Mean(ingful)

Day 5 of @strangerthingswritersguild Kinktober A loose mix of the two prompts: Mean and negotiation Rating: T | WC: 1,053 | Tags: Recreational drug use, pre-relationship, first kiss ao3 Divider credit

"It's not true, right?" Steve asked. He was sprawled out on one end of Eddie's couch, long legs stretched out in front of himself.

Eddie glanced over at him. The smoke coming off of the joint blurred Steve's features momentarily before clearing to show the downturned corners of his mouth. For a second Eddie forgot what they were talking about, could only focus on the strand of hair laying across Steve's forehead. He wanted to reach over and fix it before wiping the frown off of his face.

"Eddie?"

"Whu— oh." Eddie started wracking his brain. This was important. Whatever Steve was asking about was why he was frowning. He remembered it involved Robin, and a comment meant to be teasing but that Steve had taken to heart. Something about—

"I don't only like mean people," Steve said. "Right?" He reached over for the joint, took a slow drag and held it while keeping his eyes locked on Eddie's face.

Right, right— that was exactly what it was. "No! Well… no. I don't think so?"

Steve looked exasperated as he let the smoke out in a rush. "C'mon, either I do or I don't, man. It's not a hard question."

Eddie thought about it, then flicked his eyes over to Steve again. "I think… that you like people who can keep up with you," he said. "You know, kind of bitchy. I wouldn't say they're all mean, though…"

That wasn't exactly the answer Steve was looking for. He slumped further into the couch, and Eddie reached over to take the preroll before Steve caught himself or the couch on fire while he tried to become one with the furniture.

"Hey, it's not a bad thing!" Eddie said. "I don't think Robin meant it as one, either."

"It's not a good thing, Eddie." Steve shook his head. "I'm not an asshole anymore, but I still like them? I only want to talk to assholes? Fuck, I might as well have stayed friends with Tommy and Carol, or become friends with Billy—"

"Steve." Eddie reached over and touched Steve's shoulder, cutting him off. "Come on. That's different. They were more than mean, you know? They hurt people— people that you loved. And Billy sort of tried to kill you. I think Robin meant you like assertive people. People who know see what they want and go for it."

People unlike him, who would've made a fucking move by now instead of just thinking about how the moles under Steve's jaw would feel against his tongue, or who didn't spend their days wishing they knew what Steve sounded like in bed instead of trying to find out.

The thought of Steve in bed had Eddie's stomach tightening, had blood flowing south. He shifted on the couch, trying to hide it before Steve noticed.

"Nancy was assertive," Steve finally agreed. "She wasn't mean. She… we didn't work out, but she wasn't mean. And the kids… they're all demanding little shits but I know they love me. Dustin's like the asshole little brother I never had."

"And we all know how Max is," Eddie added. "So that's gotta be it. Right?"

Steve sat up a little. "Yeah. Right. That… makes more sense."

Eddie was thinking about lighting the joint back up but then Steve was looking at him.

"You're not mean," he said, making Eddie flush.

"I can be!" Eddie sounded almost defensive.

"I don't think you can." Steve shook his head. "You're passionate and you refuse to back down when it's important to you, but you're not mean, man."

Eddie fidgeted with a lock of hair. He brought it over his face, wanted to look away from Steve but couldn't as he asked, "Do you want me to be?"

"What?" Steve blinked those big eyes at him. "No? No. I don't— no?" It was Steve's turn to flush a pretty shade of red. He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair. "N-no."

"No?" Eddie asked. "You don't sound so sure there, Harrington."

"No! I mean I am sure, I just—" Steve groaned and buried his face in those big hands. He ran them up into his hair, then looked at Eddie again. "You being mean… would be… different."

"Different?" Eddie asked. It was like he couldn't think of his own words, could only parrot Steve's back to him in the form of a question. "Different how?"

"Because it would be because I wanted you to be, and not just because you're mean all the time." Steve cleared his throat. "You would be doing it for me, not to me, you know? Not— not the same way."

Something fluttered in Eddie's belly again. He reached out and brushed the hair off of Steve's forehead. He let his hand slip into Steve's hair, then gripped gently.

Steve's eyes widened, his breath caught, and for a moment he could only stare.

Maybe they were too high for this, but Eddie just couldn't help himself. Not when Steve was the one who had brought it up. Not when Steve was still sitting there, looking stupidly pretty, talking about Eddie doing things to and for him.

Not when they'd been dancing around this thing between them for months as it was.

"I'd do anything for you, Stevie," he murmured. "You know that?"

Steve didn't actually answer, just gave a little nod and leaned into Eddie's touch— or maybe further away, so Eddie's hold in his hair was just a little sharper.

They were definitely too high, but Eddie had started it, there was no backing down now.

"Do you want me to be mean to you, sunshine?" For the first time Eddie's thumb came up to brush over his jaw, the way he'd dreamed he would for months. "You want to be my good boy?"

The response was a soft whine, followed by a nod of Steve's head that Eddie knew pulled at his hair.

The way that sound went to Eddie's dick told him he needed to hear it again. He could be mean if that was one of the pretty noises Steve was going to make for him.

"I think we can talk about that later. Work our way up to it."

For now, Eddie smiled and leaned in to catch Steve's lips in a gentle kiss.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Homelander dating a member of the boys

Y/N was a member of the boys and she was dating Homelander. Homelander knew that Y/N was part of The boys but it was not vice versa.

The boys had no idea that she was dating Homelander. Billy would kill her if he found out. 

When she first joined The Boys she hated him like the rest and wanted to take him down. 

But then they had an encounter where he almost killed her.

But for some reason he was attracted to her and vice versa. 

 She wanted to puke when she realized that she found him attractive. He was her worst enemy.

Or was he just Billy’s?

Homelander couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N after that night. She was like a drug and he needed her. 

Y/N also couldn’t stop thinking about him but she hated herself for it. 

She couldn’t even go to anyone with her problems. They all would hate her.

Homie found out where she lived and stalked her. She had a decent house and she was the one that wasn’t on the run from the cops.

She caught him outside her house one night by the window. 

“What do you want?” “I’m coming in.”

Tension was ever so high between them. Like it was bound to be. 

She wasn’t scared of him. That he could sense. It made him mad but also made her more interesting. 

Why isn’t a puny human like her scared of him?

“I can sense you aren’t scared of me.” “You sense right.” 

He also sensed her arousal? Was she turned on?

“Why are you turned on?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

They ended up having sex that night and though she would never say it out loud it was the best sex she ever had.  

He was very whiny but she thought it was hot. 

The risk of fucking a supe was one that she took and she doesn’t regret it.

After that night, things were never the same. 

Homielander would constantly stop by her house and they would fuck until one night things got deeper.

“Why are you working for Billy?” “I wouldn’t say that I'm working for him but you’re an ass and need to be stopped.”

Her confidence was hot to him but he knew that they couldn’t take him down. 

She thought it was just sex until he took her to Vought Towers to eat. 

“Why are you doing this?” “I like you, oddly enough.”

They both knew that this was more than fucking. It was dating and it wasn’t so bad. 

Billy and The boys hadn’t suspected anything yet which was good. 

Homelander wanted to use the fact that he had you whenever Billy and him made contact but he knew that it wasn’t the right time.

Till it was and oh boy Billy was not happy.

“You’re fucking him?” “Well it’s not just fucking anymore.”

Billy felt betrayed as did the rest of The boys. 

“Y/N, How could you do this? He’s a monster.” 

She didn’t have words, just guilt. 

“It’s because my dick is so good. I fuck her so hard every night that she goes dumb.” 

Hughie looked at Y/N with disgust. She looked down at the ground.

“I’m sorry guys, it wasn't supposed to happen.” 

They couldn’t believe her. She was fucking enemy #1 for crying out loud. 

“You need to leave.” Billy growled at her, almost getting in her face. 

Her jaw dropped as if it wasn’t understandable why she would need to leave. 

“What?” “If you’re going to be with him, ya can’t be with us.” 

Homelander chuckled at his words. Everyone looked at him. 

“She doesn’t need you. She ever did. She will be fine without you.” 

That wasn’t true. Y/N knew that wasn’t true but what could she do. 

“Come on, we’re leaving.” Homelander held out his hand.

She knew there was no turning back now. She got herself in some serious shit. 

She took his hand and looked at her disappointed once friends and they walked out. 

The Boys watched as their once friend left with their enemy.  

Now they had to add another person to the list. 

“We shouldn’t have let her leave. She knows too much.” “Well then when the opportunity comes then we will kill her if she gets in the way.”

[veinnamay]

SCREAM 1996 CHRISTMAS ⋆⁺₊❅ HEAD CANNONS

~~~

Stu Macher ;

1. Christmas Enthusiast : He LOVES Christmas. He just loves the stupid activities and dressing up, gets him all giddy n’ shit. He’s planning ahead of time, for sure.

2. Decorations : He thrives on the chaos of tangled lights, gaudy decorations, and tinsel literally everywhere. His house probably looks like a Christmas explosion. Mismatched lights, tacky inflatables in the yard, and a tree that's way too big for the living room. His parents are rarely home, so it’s mostly Stu going unhinged with the decorations.

3. Mariah Carey : She’s #1 on his Spotify Wrapped and it’s only during Christmas. “ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOUU 😫” in early November and thinks it’s hilarious when people groan.

4. Holiday Pranks : Christmas to Stu isn't just about cheer—it’s also about mischief. He takes great joy in rigging holiday decorations to spook people or pull minor pranks. For examples , hiding fake spiders in stockings, rearranging the Nativity scene so the wise men are doing something unholy, jump-scaring friends by hiding behind the Christmas tree (likely breaking some ornaments in the process).

5. Stu- Style Gifts : Stu’s gifts are… unpredictable. He either goes way too far with a gift or gives something so ridiculous it makes no sense.

6. Parties, Parties, Parties : Stu’s house is the spot for Christmas parties. His parents are gone (again), so he throws some wild, poorly planned rager every year, where half the school shows up. There’s spiked eggnog and mistletoe hung in places that make it impossible to walk around without Stu cackling at the awkward encounters.

7. Secretly Sentimental : While Stu acts like Christmas is just an excuse for mayhem, he’s more sentimental than he lets on. Maybe he has a few childhood traditions he still clings to. He never really talks about family during the holidays, but part of him probably wishes they were there—even if he’ll never admit it out loud. Billy might catch on to this, but Stu brushes it off with a joke.

8. “Fashion” : You know Stu owns at least one horrible Christmas sweater and he wears it proudly. Bonus points if it lights up or has bells that jingle when he moves. He pairs it with ridiculous Santa hats or reindeer antlers just to commit to the bit.

9. Snow Shenanigans : If Woodsboro ever gets snow (unlikely, but let’s pretend), Stu turns it into a full-contact sport. Snowball fights are war to him, and he’s the guy who’ll tackle you into a snowdrift with no warning. He also absolutely builds creepy snowmen that look like they’re straight out of a horror movie. Coal for eyes? Nah—Stu uses ketchup for fake blood.

10. Christmas Horror Marathons : Stu hosts a “Holiday Horror Night” with his friends, obviously pushing movies like Black Christmas, Gremlins, or Silent Night, Deadly Night onto everyone. He gets way too hyped for the kills and spends the whole time quoting lines or spoiling jump scares for others. Billy’s there, quiet but amused, and they probably end up arguing over which Christmas-themed kill is the best.

11. Mistletoe : Stu 100% uses mistletoe as an excuse to be flirty and ridiculous. He’s the guy who’ll hold it over someone’s head dramatically and grin, “Rules are rules.” He probably teases Tatum with it constantly. For Billy? He jokingly tries it once, fully expecting Billy to roll his eyes or shove him away—but Stu never does stuff like that without seeing how far he can push it.

12. Last-Minute Christmas Shoppings : Stu is the king of procrastination. He’s the guy panic-buying at the mall on Christmas Eve, grabbing whatever random stuff he can find and trying to pass it off as thoughtful. Somehow, it’s still charming because Stu can talk his way out of anything.

(I frickin love this guy!!)

Billy Loomis ;

1. Christmas Is Just Another Day (On the Surface) : Billy doesn’t care much for Christmas. Or at least, that’s what he says. He’s the guy who shrugs when people ask about his holiday plans, dismissing it as “a capitalist cash-grab” Emo ass. Deep down, though, the holidays bring up complicated feelings. Maybe he’s got memories from when he was little. Now, Christmas feels hollow, and he avoids thinking about it.

2. Quiet Observer at Parties : If Stu drags him to a Christmas party (which he absolutely does), Billy’s the guy hanging out on the outskirts, leaning against a wall with a beer, laughing while watching everyone act like idiots.

3. More Parties : He’ll scoff at the cheesy decorations and roll his eyes at the loud Christmas music, but part of him enjoys being there—especially if Stu is in his element. Seeing Stu acting like a maniac entertains him more than he lets on.

4. Mouthy lmfao : He’s got a sharp tongue when it comes to party games. “Secret Santa? Let me guess—another pair of socks?”

5. Billy’s Family Situation : Christmas at the Loomis house is strained and quiet. It’s probably just him and his dad at this point, sitting through an awkward dinner while his dad barely acknowledges him. The house feels cold and undecorated. Maybe there’s a tree because it’s expected, but it’s sad-looking and thrown together. Billy doesn’t care to fix it. There’s definitely no talk of Billy’s mom—she’s the unspoken shadow hovering over everything during the holidays. But before, she definitely was what kept it festive around the house. So to avoid all this, he probably sticks around Stu’s (mainly) or Sidney’s. (I could go on.)

6. Thoughtful (But Hidden) Gift-Giver : Billy’s not one for flashy gift-giving. He doesn’t like the act of Christmas, but he’s surprisingly thoughtful when it comes to people he cares about.

7. A Christmas Horror Purist : If Billy does anything “festive,” it’s in line with his love of horror. He’ll sit through Black Christmas or Silent Night, Deadly Night with a smirk, analyzing the kills and quietly enjoying the darker takes on the holiday. If Stu ropes him into one of his Christmas horror marathons, Billy pretends to find Stu’s antics annoying, but he’s secretly comfortable there. Sitting in the dark with Stu, watching bloodied Santas and creepy phone calls, is the closest he gets to enjoying the season. (I might write a fanfic… so cutesy!!)

8. Avoiding Sentimentality : Billy hates anything overly sentimental about Christmas. Carolers? He shuts the door in their faces. Sappy movies like It’s a Wonderful Life? He’ll turn it off with a scoff. He acts like he’s above all that emotional nonsense. The truth? It’s not that he doesn’t feel—he just doesn’t know what to do with those feelings. Seeing happy families or romanticized versions of Christmas stirs something painful in him, so he buries it under his usual indifference.

9. Quiet Late Nights : On Christmas Eve, when everything’s still, Billy probably stays up late, sitting in the dark with just the glow of the sad Christmas tree. Maybe he’s watching a movie or absentmindedly flipping through a horror magazine. It’s one of those rare moments where he lets himself just be—away from people, away from expectations. If Stu calls him during one of these moments, Billy picks up, though he sounds more subdued. Stu probably makes some joke to lighten the mood, and Billy half-smiles, even if Stu can’t see it.

10. Snow and Billy Don’t Mix : If Woodsboro ever gets snow, Billy’s not running out to play in it. He finds it annoying and cold, muttering about how it’s just going to turn into slush. Stu probably tackles him into the snow anyway, and Billy reacts with mock irritation. If no one’s looking, though, he might just throw a snowball back—dead-on, with a precision Stu wasn’t expecting.

11. Subtle Possessiveness (?) During the Holidays : Christmas heightens Billy’s possessive tendencies, especially with Stu. Stu’s family isn’t around, but there’s no way they’d be gone for December. They’d have to have some kind of family time, and that would occupy some of Stu’s time. If he’s busy with family or distracted by other friends, Billy subtly bugs him. And Stu knows why, like he has to pick up on it. Why Billy’s suddenly spending all his time there instead of at home. He needs to feel in control when everything else feels unstable.

12. Small Moments of Vulnerability : Billy has little cracks around the holidays where the mask slips. He’ll never admit it, but there’s a part of him that misses the idea of Christmas—before everything got so screwed up.

He rejects the holiday on the surface, but underneath, there’s a lot of unprocessed pain and buried nostalgia. If anyone manages to pull him out of his isolation (looking at you, Stu), it’s on Billy’s terms—subtle moments that let him feel like he’s in control, even during the most chaotic time of year.

Tatum Riley :

1. The Undisputed Holiday It-Girl : Tatum owns Christmas. She’s the person who looks flawless in every holiday photo, decked out in the perfect cozy-chic sweater and effortlessly styled hair. She has a holiday vibe straight out of a 90s teen rom-com—think shiny lip gloss, cute earmuffs, and a playful attitude. She’s the first to make fun of tacky Christmas aesthetics while also pulling them off way too well. Candy-cane-striped everything? On anyone else, it’s cringe. On Tatum? Iconic.

2. Gift-Giving Is Her Love Language : Tatum is an *amazing* gift-giver. She actually listens when people talk about what they like, so her presents always hit the mark.

3. The Queen of Christmas Parties : Tatum is the life of every Christmas party. She’s loud, confident, and has a drink in her hand while dragging Sid onto the dance floor.

4. Competitive Christmas Games : She’s the person forcing everyone into ugly sweater contests or leading a group to spike the punch. She’s not afraid to throw down in a snowball fight either—she’s got a competitive streak a mile wide.

5. Rom-Com Vibes with Dewey : Tatum adores Christmas lights and winter dates—bonus points if it’s with Dewey. She teases him relentlessly for being a “corny good guy,” but secretly, she loves it. Picture Tatum dragging Dewey to look at Christmas lights around Woodsboro, bundled up in his oversized jacket while pretending not to be freezing. Dewey probably surprises her with little gestures—a hot chocolate, a cheesy snow globe—and while she teases him, she keeps everything he gives her.

6. Holiday Movie Queen : Tatum doesn’t have time for Billy and Stu’s horror-only movie marathons. She’s a rom-com and classics kind of girl during the holidays. Think Home Alone, The Santa Clause, or Love Actually. If Sidney’s around, they’re probably curled up under blankets with mugs of cocoa, Tatum shouting advice at the characters like they can hear her. “JUST KISS HIM, GOD!”

7. A Little Bit of a Christmas Diva : Tatum has no patience for half-hearted holiday cheer. If you’re going to celebrate, you better commit. Randy tries to show up to a party in a lame sweater? Tatum throws glitter on him. “Fixed it.” She’s not above calling out people who ruin the vibe—“Billy, you look like you’re at a funeral. Smile for once.”

8. Big Sister Energy : Tatum takes care of her people during the holidays. If Sid’s feeling down, Tatum’s the first to drag her out of the house for some Christmas shopping or convince her to bake cookies. She’s protective over everyone in her circle, and if she senses anything off, she’s quick to step in, even if it means starting a fight.

9. The Perfect Christmas Aesthetic : Tatum’s house is straight out of a magazine. Her mom decorates tastefully, so it’s all classy lights, a Pinterest-perfect tree, and cozy candles. Tatum sneaks in her own touches—like obnoxiously large stockings or candy canes in every room—just to “spice it up.” She’s probably got an entire drawer full of cute Christmas pajamas she’d never let anyone see. (Except Sid. Grandma pajama solidarity lol.)

10. Holiday Shopper : Tatum takes Christmas shopping seriously and has zero patience for slow walkers, long lines, or rude shoppers. Picture her standing in line with Sidney, dramatically and loudly, complaining about how insane people get over 50% off toasters. “I’ll start throwing elbows if I have to.” She’s got a keen eye for sales, though, and somehow leaves the mall with bags full of the perfect gifts.

11. Snow Day Enthusiast : If Woodsboro ever sees snow, Tatum is all in. She’s the one dragging Sidney outside to build snowmen and start snowball fights. She’ll tackle Stu just to prove she can take him down, and she’ll pelt Randy with ice-packed snowballs until he admits defeat. She’s not afraid to ruin her hair for a little fun, and she’ll laugh louder than anyone when she inevitably faceplants into a snowbank.

Tatum is Christmas cheer—loud, confident, and unapologetically herself. She thrives in the chaos of the season.

Sidney Prescott ;

1. A Quiet, Nostalgic Christmas : Sidney’s Christmases are about tradition and simplicity. Her mom loved the holidays, so the season is bittersweet for her—full of fond memories that now carry a tinge of sadness. She keeps certain family traditions alive, like baking cookies from her mom’s old recipe book or watching It’s a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve. It’s her way of feeling close to Maureen, even when it hurts.

2. Decorations : Her house is decorated modestly—a real tree with mismatched ornaments collected over the years, white lights, and handmade decorations from childhood. It's cozy and nostalgic, much like Sidney herself.

3. The Thoughtful Gift-Giver : Sidney puts a lot of heart into her gifts. She’s not flashy about it, but everything she gives is meaningful and personal.

4. Holiday Overwhelm : Big, chaotic Christmas parties (especially Stu’s) can be overwhelming for Sidney. She’s social and kind, but crowds and noise drain her, so she gravitates toward quiet corners or one-on-one conversations. Tatum usually drags her into the chaos, and Sidney goes along with it, laughing as Tatum forces her into a ridiculous ugly sweater.

5. Her Relationship with Snow : If Woodsboro gets snow, Sidney’s the one who finds the quiet beauty in it. She’ll go for long walks alone, listening to the soft crunch of snow under her boots and watching the way the world feels still and peaceful. Tatum probably pulls her into a snowball fight, breaking the mood, and Sid doesn’t mind—she ends up laughing so hard she forgets why she was sad in the first place. Also, she’s great at building snowmen but pretends to hate getting her gloves wet.

6. Holiday Movie Nights : Sidney loves classic Christmas movies—It’s a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, A Charlie Brown Christmas. They’re a comfort to her, reminders of watching with her mom as a kid. When Tatum insists on a rom-com binge or Stu demands horror marathons, Sidney humors them but eventually pulls the “it’s my turn” card. No one argues when Sid wants a quiet movie night—it’s like an unspoken rule that she gets what she needs.

7. Baking as Therapy : Sidney bakes during the holidays because it’s calming and makes the house smell like warmth. She’s not a natural Martha Stewart, but she’s determined to follow her mom’s recipes. Tatum helps, but mostly just to steal cookie dough and call it “quality control.” Sid rolls her eyes and lets her. Stu once tried to mess with the cookies (extra salt, no sugar), and Sidney nearly smacked him with a spatula.

8. Thoughtful Holiday Traditions : Sidney has a habit of sending out handwritten Christmas cards, even to people who don’t expect them. It’s her quiet way of staying connected and letting people know she cares. She hangs onto sentimental items, like ornaments her mom gave her or gifts from friends, no matter how silly. Her Christmas decorations tell a story—every piece means something.

9. Sidney at Stu’s Chaotic Parties : Sidney shows up to Stu’s Christmas parties because of Tatum—and because Billy wants her there—but she’s always the one quietly making sure things don’t go completely off the rails. She’s the responsible one who pulls Randy out of trouble or stops Stu from lighting the fireplace "just to see what happens.” If things get overwhelming, Sidney slips outside for air. She doesn’t like people noticing when she needs space, but sometimes Tatum finds her anyway.

10. Christmas Eve Emotions : Christmas Eve is the hardest night for Sid. It’s quiet, and the weight of her family memories hits her hardest. She’ll light a candle for her mom or sit by the tree with a blanket, staring at the lights and letting herself feel it. She doesn’t talk about it with anyone, but Tatum knows—and always calls her to check in, even if Sid insists she’s fine.

11. Her Presence as the Heart of the Group : Sidney is the grounding presence during the chaos of the holidays. She’s the one who brings balance to the group—where Tatum brings the energy and Stu brings the chaos, Sid brings the quiet warmth. She’s kind to everyone, and she’s the first to notice if someone else is having a hard time. She checks in on people without being asked, always putting others before herself.

Sidney’s Christmas is a mix of quiet reflection, warmth, and bittersweet nostalgia. She finds comfort in traditions and small moments, even as the holidays remind her of what she’s lost.

(And you know Tatum, Stu, and Randy would all conspire to make sure Sid gets at least one night of unfiltered fun, whether she likes it or not.)

Randy Meeks ;

1. The Movie Marathon Master : Randy treats Christmas like it’s his personal Super Bowl of Movie Marathons. Forget rom-coms and heartfelt dramas—Randy is the guy forcing everyone to sit through holiday-themed horror movies and classics only he thinks are cool. "Black Christmas" and "Gremlins" are his obvious go-tos. He insists on a double-feature tradition: "Home Alone" (a kid’s revenge fantasy) followed by Silent Night, Deadly Night. “See? Christmas movies are about trauma. I rest my case.”

2. The Guy Who Buys Movie-Themed Gifts : Randy is the friend who gets everyone gifts that reflect his interests but are tailored just enough to show he does care:

3. The Ultimate Stocking Stuffer Guy : Randy is broke, let’s be honest, but he kills it with stocking stuffers. Think movie trivia cards, candy shaped like film reels, and weird novelty gifts he finds at a discount store. He probably throws in a mix of heartfelt and ridiculous: a mixtape he made (with “curated” Christmas songs) alongside a rubber reindeer nose.

4. His Family’s Christmas Is Pure Chaos : Randy’s house is loud, messy, and filled with younger cousins running wild. Picture mismatched stockings, a blinking rainbow-light tree that definitely flickers ominously, and a TV that’s always blasting movies or video games. His mom probably throws a huge family dinner, and Randy sneaks bites of food out of the kitchen early because “survival instincts.”

5. Crashes Stu’s Parties and Doesn’t Leave : Randy always shows up to Stu’s Christmas parties uninvited, arms full of movies and snacks. He immediately makes himself at home and starts trying to "educate" everyone on film history. “Did you know Tim Burton pitched The Nightmare Before Christmas in the 80s and got rejected? Hollywood is so stupid sometimes.”

6. He’s the guy debating movie plot holes at 2 a.m. and accidentally falling asleep on the couch under a pile of coats.

7. Awkward Around Mistletoe : Randy gets so flustered if someone catches him under the mistletoe. He’s the guy who turns red, starts stammering, and makes an awful joke to deflect. Tatum totally uses this to mess with him, dragging Sidney into it to really make Randy panic.

8. Obsessive About Gift Wrap Themes : For someone so unorganized in life, Randy gets weirdly intense about his gift-wrapping. He picks a theme every year—like movie tickets, old newspaper clippings, or comic book pages—and insists it’s “art.”

9. Sentimental Moments Slip Through : Beneath all the jokes and movie references, Randy’s a sentimental guy. He gets a little reflective during the holidays, especially with his friends. He’ll quietly check in on Sidney, asking if she’s okay around the holidays. He knows she’s hurting, even if she doesn’t say it. Randy probably ends up making a heartfelt toast at Stu’s party that starts funny and somehow turns emotional: “I know I joke a lot, but, like, we’re lucky, you know? To have each other. Even you, Stu.”

10. “The Dude with the Camera” : Randy is constantly capturing holiday chaos on a camcorder or Polaroid camera. He insists he’s “documenting the memories,” but really, he just loves having receipts of everyone acting ridiculous. Stu trying to juggle Christmas ornaments? Captured. Tatum pelting Randy with a snowball mid-monologue? Immortalized.

Randy’s Christmas is loud, nerdy, and sprinkled with chaotic energy. He’s the guy who shows up unannounced, stays way too long, and somehow makes the holidays brighter with his awkward charm and endless movie knowledge. Beneath all his silliness, though, there’s a big heart—he just hides it behind jokes and VHS tapes.

(And you know Randy would have a special “Christmas Movie Survival Guide” prepared for the group, complete with rules like, “Rule #1: Never trust a killer Santa.”)

[amomentsescape]

Heyyy darling,IM POLITELY BEGGING,for some stu and billy with feral ,hyper,punk gremlin s/o headcanons. Simply the boys trying to be as casual as possible so they dont get suspected for the previous murders but then they’re running around with their own little bundle of chaos. Im talking like a real troublemaker,just for the fun of it but always just watching all the drama happening,never being involved even though they caused it. For example: •causing misunderstandings in other friendgroups •cutting someone’s car wheels (or similar stuff) after they’ve been rude to someone in their friend group,maybe when gale didnt respect sidney‘s privacy in the first movie •S/O has a collection of anything shiny and glittery things they stole (from spoons to necklaces) just cause they like how it looks and they know it will cause some chaos. •Flirting with randy,tatum and stu to piss the boys off a bit •Oh or maybe billy getting them one of those vertical cloths or swings for their living room,I feel like that would fit cause billy would be a bit tired of his S/O letting their hyperness out on him. •When they come home from killing a bit later sometimes,they just find their s/o sleeping in the most uncomfy position (criss cross apple sauce type of shit) on their swing,drooling a bit,their body twitching every now and then

I dont know if any of this made sense my head is all over the place right now. <3

Billy and Stu (Separate) with Feral Gremlin Reader

Billy Loomis x Reader, Stu Macher x Reader

A/N: This was honestly so fun to write!

Billy Loomis

Boy, he didn't quite know what he was getting into when he first became interested in you

But he's in it for the long run, so here we go

Making Billy jealous is a common theme with you

Outright flirting, giggling, and dancing around with other people automatically makes Billy see red

But there's something about his possessiveness that you love so much that you keep doing it anyway

It almost always leads to a fight between Billy and the other party

And damn, isn't it fun to watch?

But that's not to say that you don't also feel your fair share of anger as well

Someone pisses you off even slightly? They're gonna regret it the next morning

Keyed cars, egged houses, graffitied threats

There is no limit to your creativity to get back at them

Billy simply huffs and puffs at you, berating you about being too "loud" with your actions

He's trying to keep things down-low by all means

And the last thing he wants is one of your actions getting him caught and put in jail

But there is something kinda attractive with how you stir up drama and give Billy some attitude

He doesn't like easy

He wants a challenge

And boy do you give him one

But on days where he simply cannot have you running amuck, he has you lay down in your own little hammock he bought you

For whatever reason, that always has you relaxed

It's like you become a whole different person with it

And Billy lets out a little "thank you" to the Gods each time he sees you just swinging away

He loves you, but damn, it's hard to keep up with you

Stu Macher

Stu on the other hand, is not phased at all by you

In fact, he matches your energy about 80% of the time

A friend pissed you off? You're both screaming and laughing while talking badly about them

Things are getting a little boring? You and Stu tell different people made up stuff that someone else is "saying" about them

You both love to stir up drama and watch how badly things can unfold

Stu is less concerned about getting caught than Billy anyways

What's even the point in killing if you can't have some fun outside of it?

So having you around is the perfect way for Stu to let out his hyper energy and keep things exciting when he isn't killing teens

But when he is out and about, he's thinking of you

You're probably at home eating all of his snacks in that moment, but he doesn't care

After his victims meet their fates, he is happy to dig around in their pockets and their homes, looking for anything even the slightest bit shiny to bring back to you

Nothing compares to the way your eyes light up at the gifts

Hell, you have a drawer in your room just filled with all things shiny and captivating

But Stu knows he'll have to wait until the morning to give you your gift

Because just about every night he comes home, he finds your head handing off the couch with your legs and arms splayed out, snoozing away

Remnants of chips and chocolate can still be found on your lips and fingertips

Stu secretly has made a photo album in his phone just for all the pictures he takes of you when you're sleeping

It's about time Stu had someone who met his chaotic energy