#billy’s pov

[billsloomis1996]

AND I SHOULD TELL YOU

THAT I’LL MISS YOU

BUT I SIMPLY JUST DON’T CARE!

this is not a ship post!

[knottedhearts]

Inspiration: B.E.

The sound of Billie’s voice filled the room, raspy yet melodic, as she leaned back in her chair, her lips brushed the mic in front of her as she worked on the chorus of Lunch, her newest track. She had been stuck on one part all day, and it was driving her crazy—but in true Billie fashion, she made even her frustration look effortlessly sexy.

She pulled the headphones off, tossing them onto the desk with a sigh before spinning her chair around to face you. Her eyes flicked over your face, a mischievous glint dancing in her gaze.

"Y'know, Y/n," she started, her voice dripping with playful charm. “You’re kinda distracting me right now.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not even doing anything, Billie,” you protested with a laugh, leaning against her bedpost.

She smirked, spinning her chair slowly back and forth. “Exactly. You’re just standing there, looking all cute and innocent. How am I supposed to focus when you’re over there stealing all my attention?” Her voice dipped into a teasing tone, making your cheeks flush.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “Pretty sure you’re the one distracting yourself.”

Billie raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “Oh, is that how it is?” She leaned forward in her chair, elbows resting on her knees as she looked up at you. “I don’t know, babe. Maybe you should help me instead. Wanna be my muse?”

You tilted your head, trying not to let her flirtation completely derail you. “What do you need me to do? Write the lyrics for you?”

She laughed, her head tilting back for a moment before her gaze snapped back to yours, intense and almost daring. “Nah, I’ve got the lyrics down. I just need... inspiration.”

Billie stood up slowly, the chair creaking behind her. She closed the small gap between you two, her hand brushing your arm, the touch light but deliberate. “You know, the kind of inspiration only you can give me, Y/n.” Her voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tried to hold your ground, but her smirk made it impossible. “Billie, focus,” you managed, though your resolve was slipping.

“Oh, I’m focused,” she murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her lips quirked into a smirk as she leaned closer, her breath warm against your neck. “Just not on the song.”

Your breath hitched, and Billie laughed softly, clearly satisfied with how flustered you’d become. She stepped back, her grin wide as she plopped back into her chair. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave—for now. But if this song turns out to be a hit, just know you’ll be in the credits for... inspiration.”

You crossed your arms, biting back a grin. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it."

Billie was back in her chair, headphones on, her voice soft as she hummed the melody of Lunch. Her focus was intense, brows furrowed slightly as she replayed the same section over and over, tweaking little details. The soft glow of the desk lamp nearby cast warm light across her face, highlighting the curve of her jaw and the little pout of concentration on her lips.

You watched her for a moment, the sight of her so immersed in her art pulling at something deep inside you. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly she managed to look this good. And now you wanted to tease her back.

Quietly, you got up and moved toward her. She didn’t notice at first, her mind still wrapped up in the music. Placing your hands gently on her shoulders, you leaned down, close enough for your breath to tickle her ear.

She flinched slightly, pulling off one side of her headphones and glancing up at you with a crooked smile. “What’re you up to, babe?”

Instead of answering, you leaned in closer, pressing your lips softly to the side of her neck.

Billie froze for a second, her breath catching in her throat. Then she let out a low laugh, her voice huskier than usual. “Oh, you’re gonna play it like that?”

You didn’t stop, letting your lips trail lower, planting soft, lingering kisses against her skin. She tilted her head slightly, giving you more space to work.

“Y/n,” she breathed, her tone a mix of teasing and surrender. “You know I’m supposed to be working, right?”

“You’ve been working all day,” you murmured against her neck, your voice low, “I think you’ve earned a break.”

Her laugh was breathy this time, her hands reaching up to rest lightly on yours as they gripped her shoulders. “You’re trouble,” she whispered, though there was no real heat in her words.

You smiled against her skin. “And you love it.”

Billie turned her head slightly, just enough to catch your gaze, her eyes dark with something unspoken. “Yeah, I do,” she said softly, her lips quirking into a small, wicked smirk.

Billie’s smirk faltered as your lips trailed back down her neck, slower this time, teasing. Her breathing grew heavier, and the way she gripped your waist made it clear she wasn’t as unaffected as she tried to seem. You let your hands slide from her shoulders to her sides, your fingers tracing small, deliberate circles over the soft fabric of her shirt.

She let out a shaky breath, her head falling back slightly against the chair. “Y/n,” she murmured, your name coming out in a low, drawn-out moan.

You grinned against her skin, letting your teeth graze her neck before biting down gently, enough to make her gasp. Her hips shifted slightly, and her hands moved up your sides, her touch warm and firm.

“Babe, fuck” she said, her voice breathy and filled with a mixture of amusement and frustration. “You’re killing me right now.”

You chuckled softly, your lips brushing against the spot just below her ear, knowing it would drive her crazy. “I thought you liked distractions,” you teased, your voice low and smooth.

Billie’s breath hitched as you nibbled lightly at her neck again, your hands squeezing her sides just enough to make her shiver. Her fingers curled into your shirt, gripping you like she needed something to hold onto.

“God, you’re such a tease,” she whispered, her tone laced with both annoyance and desire. Her head tilted to the side, giving you even more access as a soft, barely audible moan slipped from her lips.

That sound sent a rush of warmth through you, and you couldn’t resist letting your hands explore further, sliding under the hem of her shirt to feel the smooth skin of her waist. Her breath hitched again, and this time, she didn’t even try to hold back the soft moan that followed.

Her hands found your wrists, not to stop you but to slow you down, as if she needed a moment to catch her breath. “You’re really not gonna let me finish this song, are you?” she said, her voice cracking slightly from the way her breathing had quickened.

You leaned back just enough to look at her, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your tone playful but daring, like you already knew the answer.

Billie’s eyes met yours, dark and filled with something that made your heart race. Her lips parted as she shook her head slowly, her voice soft but firm. “Not even a little bit.”

Her words spurred you on, and you leaned back in, pressing kisses along her jawline this time, letting your hands trace up and down her sides in slow, torturous movements. Her moans became more frequent, quieter at first but growing louder as you found all the little spots that made her squirm.

The tension in the room was electric, every touch, every sound pulling you both deeper into the moment. Billie’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as she tilted her head back further, practically inviting you to keep going.

“You’re unreal,” she murmured, her voice rough and full of emotion. “How do you do this to me every time?”

You couldn’t help but grin against her skin, your lips trailing back to the curve of her neck. “Just lucky, I guess.”

[plants-are-fun]

pictures you take of billie while dating her (pt 2!)

[xannypiretz]

POV: Your camera roll if you were dating Billie

[goodtimeswithscared]

yesterday i spent twelve hours watching the limited life bdubs’ pov, here’s my favorite moments :3

[noonwardmoss]

Late Night Snack ♡

CW: somno (m receiving), oral (m receiving), blink-and-you'll-miss-it daddy kink, service reader(?), slight powerplay

Summary: Butcher and you haven't been intimate for a while, so your thirsty ass takes matters into your own hands.

Tags: @angelically-yours @konartiste-sideblog @chocolategiverzombie @bobabilbil @frank3nfag @tsundere-queen @daydreamingdarl

Notes: this is not beta-read don't kill meee

Smut below cut

Butcher didn't exactly remember how this dynamic started. All he knew was that it'd been going on for a while. You were a young thing prancing about like he'd sculpted the Earth. He couldn't not get a taste. And after that first one, he got another. Then another, and another, to the point you two were semi-frequently having sex.

He'd told you that you could come to him any time you needed it. He hadn't expected you to take that literally.

The day went relatively normal—they'd gotten a good amount of work done and retired at a semi-reasonable time. You were a tad more fidgety than usual, but it didn't raise any concern.

It clearly should have, though.

Not much time passed between Butcher falling asleep and waking back up—his body grousing awake at the feeling of clumsy fingers trying to grip his length from underneath his boxers. A soft voice sounded a small whimper. Your voice.

His eyes popped open, and he immediately came face-to-face with the figure mouthing at his pelvis. You must've been at it for a bit because he was already half-stiff in his sleep-slurred state.

Was he still asleep? On his luckiest nights, he'd dream of you like this—desperate for him, initiating…

“Oi,” he croaked, voice thickened with rest, “fuck're ‘ya doin'?”

At his words, your eyes fluttered to him. You made a pretty sight, hunched over his crotch and straddling his knees. He could see your pupils fluctuating in the dark, trying to discern his reaction as your cheek went to rest against his bony hip.

“Needed it,” was the only reasoning you provided, tone that of a whining pup. He could tell you were tired, too—but apparently not enough to prevent you from doing whatever *this* was.

A gruff, almost amused scoff shook through Butcher's chest. You always were a pouter.

“Yeah? And this is how you decided t’ get it?” There was a lazy playfulness to his demeanor—one that only encouraged you. As you nodded, one of his large hands found its way to the back of your head, carding through your hair.

“You said anytime.” He smirked at your defense.

You'd never been the one to initiate before. But now, you were the one who came to him—needy and desperate. He had to admit, he liked the sudden boldness. It made him feel wanted. Your sex lives were in no way vanilla by now, and he'd talked about it being on the table before.

Was that why you were so twitchy today? The idea was a bit humorous, you have been on edge from being horny and wanting him. A whining pup, indeed.

His thumb found its way to your lower lip, pushing inward to feel the soft heat of your mouth. In his current hazy state, it didn't feel real.

“That I did, pet,” he hummed, tone only slightly breathless. God, you made such an image… His cock had fully hardened now to strain against the cloth of his boxers. “Just didn't expect it to actually happen.”

His finger hooked against your bottom teeth, prying your jaw open just a bit more.

“It's been too long,” you admitted. His digit in your mouth made the words slur together. “I needed to taste you, sir.”

He nearly groaned at that word—sir. It seemed to be something you uniquely called him. No one else garnered such a tone of respect and reverence from you. How he earned it—placated you—he'd forever be clueless and impressed to.

“How long was too long, princess?” His dick twitched at the sight of you being so uncharacteristically greedy. He'd usually be pissed over being woken up so late in the night, but the prospect of you itching for him all day was a bit… flattering. A toxic bubble of pride welled up in him, even though any reasonable person would've been concerned.

“It's been weeks,” you huffed, and even in his half-asleep state, that surprised him. He tried to wrack his brain for the last time you two had sex, but his focus was more on the fact you hadn't done anything about your desire until now.

“You been aching for me for weeks, pretty thing? Couldn't find anyone else to help?” He tutted mockingly. As expected, you shook your head.

“No. Only want you.” You nosed into his length again, and he stifled a groan. Despite knowing that'd be your answer, he still felt a wave of satisfaction at your insistence. His hand tightened in your hair as he tilted your head back.

“Been a proper good girl, have you? Only wantin’ your daddy to take care of you…”

You nodded the best you could in his grip, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his cock through the cloth.

“Can I please, then?” You murmured, looking at him through your lashes as the vibrations of your voice traveled through him. He gave a low hum.

“You don't need to ask.” His answer came with a gruff tone, as though saying ‘obviously’.

He pushed the blanket completely aside and shifted so he was sitting properly against the headboard, pulling the fabric of his boxers as some sort of encouragement.

“Go on, pet,” Butcher huffed. “Take what you want.”

Your fingers eagerly found the hem of his boxers, hooking in and pulling them down. His length bobbed, hitting your cheek from the proximity, and you made a small noise.

You'd think after all the hookups you've had so far, the shock of it all would wear off and he'd just sit and enjoy it. But no. Every time he felt the gentle touch of your hands, it was like a goddamn dream. In an idle fantasy in his head, he'd often imagine you like this. Needy, almost desperate. Somehow, the reality was better than anything his mind could have fabricated.

You lapped at his tip near instantly, and he hissed through his teeth. Your eyes returned to his at the sound, mouth opening wide to tap him on your tongue. Christ, had he taught you that?

“Yeahh.” The word tumbled from Butcher's lips with a groan, fingers rooting in your hair loosely enough not to scratch your scalp. He wanted to be selfish and buck up—to take—but you were taking rare initiative. He wanted to savor the change in dynamic.

A low moan slipped from both of you when you wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue. While you lavished the tip with attention, your hand found the base and stroked.

A breathless puff of laughter was pulled out of Butcher, and he shifted his hips down a bit for you. A million things were going through his head, and they all involved you. All of this—this whole scene—was ripped straight from one of his more daring dreams of you.

“Just like that,” he praised, hand running through the strands of your hair. It only encouraged you to take a bit more of his length. You swallowed around him before bobbing experimentally, teeth just barely scraping the sensitive skin in the way you knew he adored.

A low groan rumbled from his chest, and his hips tilted forward. The mix of your enthusiasm and inexperience was sending waves of heat down his body.

A low ‘tsk’ escaped his lips at the grazing. “Teeth, baby, remember?”

You hummed again as an answer, the resulting vibrations making him jersey his hips. You gagged, but managed to keep yourself on him. The vixen you were, you knew how he loved the danger from the pressure of your teeth.

And well, if you wanted to play like that, he could certainly provide.

His large hands tangled tighter in your hair, pulling at a sign of encouragement. His pelvis stuttered before he pushed himself further down your throat, a breathy groan leaving him.

“You're doin’ good, sweetheart.” The praise was laced with strain, low and cracking. You moaned around his dick, picking up enthusiasm again.

If it wasn't enough for you to look so damn good, the sounds were driving him further insane. He let you control the pace momentarily, an itch to control bubbling under his skin with each moment.

“If you were in such a rush, y’ shoulda come to me sooner.” The low growl was punctuated by a push of his hips, fingers tightening in your hair to keep you in place. You drooled around him, sinking down a bit more with hazy eyes. And the two of you were too similar in this way—you both got pleasure by giving it to your partner in bed.

Your nails grazed his pelvic bone, barely digging in. There was an electricity that buzzed just under the surface of Butcher's skin, a tingling heat that began to cloud his mind. That, coupled with the fact he was still half-convinced he was asleep, created some feedback loop of fuzzy pleasure. The sharp sting of your nails had him bucking up into your warm heat, lolling his head back with a harsh groan.

You choked again, taking deep breaths through your nose to somehow willpower yourself to stay on his dick. Then, once you'd gotten your gag reflex under control, you sank all the way to the base, nose nuzzling his public hair. Your throat fluttered with the effort, dragging a breathy moan from the man under you.

“Ffuuuck yeah—yeah, good girl. Stay just like that for a bit, darlin’,” came his murmur, voice just barely more than a rough growl. The last of his breath was pushed out almost like you were taxing him, and with his praise came the soothing pet of his hand through your hair. You blinked the tears away to keep your eyes on him, face flushed in the dim lighting. You swallowed around him ever-so-often as you obeyed, staying flush to his pelvis.

And those teary eyes staring at him with so much desire nearly made him lose it.

There was a moment where he just felt overwhelmed—a rush of a million sensations he didn't know how to name rushing to his head and making it spin. A shuddering sigh spilled from his lips at them.

“Look at you.” His voice was but a ragged breath now, hand running down from the top of your head to your cheek to brush away stray tears that had fallen. “Such a pretty thing, you are, doll.”

His touch made you keen as you decided that was encouragement enough to continue. With a long drag up his length, you released a small noise from your throat. Your sounds weren't helping Butcher's current state much.

“Don't stop. Fuuck—yeah. Jus’– Just like that, sweetheart,” he rumbled with another groan. The feeling was enough to make his legs feel unsteady—and that feeling had him rolling into the wet warmth of your mouth.

He was embarrassingly close embarrassingly fast—but in his defense, it'd been a while, and he was barely awake. Not that you seemed to mind either way, though. The thrumming in your veins was nearly unbearable, the desire to please having been melting you for days. You wanted to please him tonight—which might've come at the cost of your own pleasure considering he could be too exhausted to do anything else.

His grip on your head tightened, his breathing growing increasingly shaky and his hands shaking with the effort not to just fuck your throat with wild abandon.

“Just like that, baby– Just like that… Shit, I'm gonna– F-fuck–” He was cut off with a harsh, breathless moan as you doubled your efforts. You needed to see him contort with the pleasure you knew he deserved again—almost as much as you needed air. His hips stuttered into your mouth with his thrusts, long and shallow with tire.

You pulled off, much to his displeasure, leaving your mouth open wide as your hand returned to his cock. Quick, hot breaths left you as you rested him against your tongue while you stroked him to completion.

When he came, you gave a small, sweet moan. His spend coated your tongue and lips, satisfying your taste buds in some cruel way that made your loins burn. Your hand gradually slowed as you swallowed, lapping at him lazily afterward until he was completely flaccid and hissing with overstimulation.

“I needed that,” he exhaled once you stopped, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. The grip in your hair released, fingers soothing over your scalp as if apologetic for how hard he'd tugged. Then, his hand returned to its place on your cheek, wiping the drool from your chin. His eyes fluttered shut as he did so—it seemed he truly was, in fact, dead tired.

“Such a good girl, huh?” His eyes flickered down to your shifting thighs, catching the way they searched for any relief. He wiped some of the mess he'd left from your bottom lip, and you sucked his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue swirled it clean before you released the digit. The action caught him off-guard, a sharp intake of breath resulting. God, he wished he had the energy, but he was already struggling to stay awake.

“You make it goddamn difficult to last, princess. Can see how wound up you are,” he huffed, amusement and disappointment toward himself laced through his tone. You pulled yourself up, tucking him back into his pants before shifting to curl up into his side. He sighed as his arm went to wrap around you. Despite the fact you'd needed him for weeks apparently, you seemed content to ignore yourself for a little longer.

“You– mmh… don't want me to take care of ya, love?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. He wasn't going to complain, but he'd certainly make up for it later. For now, though, he was well and fully exhausted. And the bed was comfortable. When you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, he hummed.

“I'll take that as a no, then. A bloody shame, but I s’pose you've tired me out.”

“Tomorrow?” Came your whisper after another moment, and his lips twitched upward.

“Whenever you want, baby.”

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 52

So I’ve seen several catboy Danny prompts, but hear me out: All of Amity becoming so ecto-contaminated that everyone becomes something akin to a mythological creature. And Danny? He becomes a Nekomata- a two-tailed cat that was said to be able to shapeshift into humans for mischief, including straight up haunting people and stealing corpses. Vlad ends up a kitsune- which is already associated with taking on human forms to seduce people and with things such as foxfire and possession. Tucker ends up a sphinx sort of creature- “It’s not fair you guys can just float around while I have to figure out how to use these stupid wings when I could be coding!”- and Sam ends up a dryad of some sort, they aren’t entirely sure what but that’s what they joke it is so…

The people sent to investigate this city are more than slightly freaking out.

[rqdio]

𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆ billie & her african american gf 𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆

— 𝜗𝜚 . * • ☀️ probably my favorite spread/mood board done so far (inspired by. @zyafics )

[thepunkranger]

Anyway I love the Resident Evil novels and nobody can change my mind

[knottedhearts]

Baking with Billie: B.E

The kitchen was a delightful mess. Flour dusted the countertops, and the sweet aroma of vanilla filled the air as you and Billie worked side by side, both laughing at the organized chaos you’d created. She had flour on her cheek, just a tiny smudge, and you couldn’t resist a soft chuckle as you watched her squint at the recipe.

“Are you sure this says a cup of sugar? I feel like we’ve already put in half the bag,” Billie questioned, looking at you with mock suspicion.

You grinned, shaking your head. “You know, that’s the beauty of baking—it’s part art, part science. I say we go with our instincts.”

“Instincts, huh?” she replied, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, chef, I’ll trust you… but if we end up with rock-hard cookies, I’m blaming you.”

She shot you a teasing look, but before you could respond, she dipped her fingers into the bowl of flour and flicked some at you. A small puff of white dust landed on your shirt and cheek, catching you completely off guard.

“Oh, it’s like that?” you laughed, grabbing a pinch of flour yourself and dusting her shoulder in return. She gasped, putting on an exaggerated look of shock, and soon the two of you were in a full-on flour fight, both laughing uncontrollably.

Finally, after you both called a truce, Billie leaned back against the counter, cheeks flushed from laughter, eyes bright. “You’re a terrible influence, you know that?”

“Me?” you said, pretending to be offended. “You started it!”

She rolled her eyes playfully and handed you a spoon, already loaded with the cookie dough. “Fine, truce. Here, taste test it and tell me it was worth it.”

You took a bite, savoring the sweetness, and nodded. “Perfect. Just like you planned it,” you teased.

Billie smiled, a hint of a blush rising in her cheeks. “Yeah, well… maybe I had a little help.”

You and Billie burst into laughter.

The laughter faded entirely, and for a moment, it was just you and Billie standing there, the kitchen mess forgotten. You looked at her, and her eyes held a softness, a silent invitation that made your heart race. Slowly, you leaned down, brushing your lips against hers, testing the waters. Her lips were soft, warm, and she responded with a gentle pressure that sent a spark through you.

Billie’s hand slid up around your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer. Your arms wrapped around her waist instinctively, drawing her in until there was no space left between you. The kiss deepened, slow but with an intensity that made your heart pound faster with every second. Her breath was warm against your skin, and you could feel the way she melted into you, as if she’d been waiting for this as much as you had.

Her hands moved from your neck to your shoulders, fingers tracing gentle lines that left a trail of warmth. You pressed her closer, savoring the taste of her, the way her lips fit perfectly with yours, the way her fingers felt tangled in your hair. Every movement was unhurried, yet full of a quiet urgency, like you were both trying to make up for every second you’d waited for this moment.

Your lips parted, just slightly, and she followed, deepening the kiss even more. Time felt suspended; all you could feel was her, all you could hear was the sound of her breathing mixing with yours. Her hands slipped down to your chest, resting there as if to feel the beat of your heart, grounding you both in this intimate moment that felt as fragile as it was powerful.

Eventually, the two of you broke apart, just enough to look at each other, faces close, breaths mingling. She smiled softly, her eyes still holding that spark, and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling closer to her than ever. The mess around you was forgotten, and in that quiet, shared gaze, it felt like there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[plants-are-fun]

pictures you’d take of billie while dating her (part 3!)

guys i think i started a trend with this 😛

[billygoat26]

Y’all I got the wonderful idea to draw Mr Puzzles as Jigsaw soooo… here.

“I want to play a game”

[wolfsbanesparks]

Chapter 4 of Cursed City is up!

Today we dive into a Bat investigation interlude!

I hope y'all enjoy!

[billybatsonbrainrot]

Very interested in 4. from the WIP game!

Goodbye Marvel: Based on issue#4 of the current Shazam run but with a few changes.

Billy is homeless but still part of the Justice League. His reason for being on the moon is still the same. The gods have been fighting for control over Captain Marvel and putting Billy in danger against his will. And then Zeus was about to give Billy's first kiss to a grown alien woman and Billy freaks out. He transforms back, which leads him to getting blasted into space.

The whole experience was surreal to Billy. He never really felt like he was actual danger whenever he was Captain Marvel. This was different than all the other times he's fought in a battle. He's transformed in the middle of a fight plenty of times but he's always able to turn back into Cap without worry and in the nick of time. But at least back then it was his choice on what fight to pick. He was brought here and put in this situation against his will all because the gods wanted people to worship them again and decided that using him as their puppet was the way to do it. He's never felt more betrayed.

It doesn't matter if he doesn't feel safe as Captain Marvel anymore because he can't transform now even to save his own life. He can't breathe. He was blasted into space without a helmet on and he's slowly losing air. Anything that came out of his mouth were just gasps for air as he slowly drifted away. He didn't even get the chance to tell anyone in the Justice League where he was, so he knew no one was coming to save him. It was only thanks to Zeus, who threw a lightning bolt his way because he felt a tad guilty for almost inadvertently killing their champion.

After Billy deals with mess, because of course he had to clean after the gods after nearly dying, he flies back to earth and transforms back into Billy before the gods even have the chance to do or say anything. He then runs into any abandoned building he could find for privacy, and he just breaks down.

He thinks of the events that just happened in space. How he almost died, but mostly of how alone he felt. He was going to die surrounded by nothingness instead of people by his side. And he probably won't even be the one everyone remembers, that would be Captain Marvel, the one people would search for if he ever went missing. Billy Batson would just be forgotten, known by no one. Those were his only thoughts when he nearly lost consciousness.

Billy continues to cry with no one to comfort him until he is eventually found by someone and the police come, and Billy lets himself be taken away. He's too tired to do anything. He doesn't care if he's going back into a foster home, he'll figure that out in the morning. He just wants an actual bed to sleep in and eat real food. After the day he had, it was the least he could do.

He'll just have to suck it up and be okay with whatever family they put him with until he has to run away again. Except, the Vasquez's aren't like any family he's ever been with. They give him the space he needs when they see his tear-stricken eyes, and they're understanding about it too, not asking too many questions.

Billy meets the siblings in the morning and already feels himself getting attached. They're bonded pretty well over breakfast, best food he's had in a while. Mary is nice, Freddy is funny, Pedro is shy, Eugene knows a lot about video games, and Darla is adorable. They're all understanding too, they don't make Billy feel like an outsider despite being a newcomer.

Billy doesn't run away, he stays.

Billy is confronted by something he never knew he wanted. He wants to be a regular kid, be part of a family, go to school, maybe even college. For the first time in his life, he's actually thinking about his future, not how he's going to survive the following week but years ahead. Maybe it was because the foster care system actually did something right and put him in a loving family. He didn't think it was possible for him to even think this way, to hold out hope for a future.

Billy's only problem now was Captain Marvel, the one thing that bought joy to his life now brings misery. There was a good chance that being Captain Marvel would bring chaos to not just him but his new family. And an even greater chance that he'll die in battle one day if the gods decided to act stupid again. He knows he has responsibilities, but he was too young to know what he was getting himself into.

Billy makes a rash decision; he's going to quit being Captain Marvel.

[sapphic-bats]

How fucking bold can you be?

I mean, that was the question of the night, wasn’t it? Billy and Stu, pulling off a massacre. Billy and Stu, cornering Ms. Final Girl, Ms. Surviving Non-Virgin. The only one who makes it out of a horror movie, but wouldn’t this time. Billy and Stu, spitting free their motives — rather, motive — to the last living bastards in the house.

And yet, Billy was standing here, blanking at how bold Stu could possibly be. Besides all of the slaughtering that just occurred.

Sure, one moment he’s speaking to Sidney, the moment he’s been fuckin’ yearning to glean. The day he’s rued with wide eyes and set teeth forming an ugly-pretty smile.

And then, Stu comes up behind him.

It’s normal, actually. Nothin’ special. I mean, if you wanna get technical, they knew each other very well, on many levels. Among these levels included carnal, which- honestly, it didn’t take a genius to decipher. But hey, people weren’t usually on the hungry lookout for queers to disdainfully sniff at and pass by, were they?

So what, as Stu sidles up to him, the heat radiating off of him and right onto Billy? What’s the big bleeding fuss, as they’re ratting themselves out to a proclaimed dead-woman? Not that she sees, or cares.

But then, Stu presses forward, and oh, god.

It’s not something dirty, no, not exactly. It’s not outright lewd. But it is. It so is.

Because Stu’s leaning his whole self into Billy, front to back, cupping him in this upright-spoon. He’s pressing close, fitting to Billy like a lanky glove, and his body heat’s now flaring straight from within Stu, and soaking right into Billy.

It’s sick, and twisted, and downright fucking hot.

He notices it in the back of his mind, but it’s too damn right to be a coherent thought. Billy grins.

“Tell that to Cotton Weary.”

Stu’s got his chin rest on the back of Billy’s shoulder, on the mothering muscle of his scapula, so Billy can feel when his expression changes, roughly when Billy’s does. Now they’re both grinning like the madmen they are.

Large, soft hands slip up overtop his white shirt; grazing Billy’s waist, then stomach, then sweeping surely over his ribs, his pectorals. It feels fuckin’ great.

“You wouldn’t believe how easy he was to frame.”

Stu laughs, and it’s a rumble that buzzes against Billy’s back, like they’re some married couple stood standing straight up out of their domestic morning scene in bed.

Sidney hasn’t noticed any of this public shit, the acts of lustiness, of mutual pride in one another and themselves, respectively. Can’t believe he ever had to fake like he liked her. Thank the fading stars it’s over, it felt like forever that he had to keep up the act.

Stu caresses Billy, hands rubbing circles into his chest.

“Watch a few movies, take a few notes,” he tilts his chin down, nose gently ghosting against the base of Billy’s neck. He laughs again. “It was fun.”

As Sidney begins to lament the foolishness that she and her fallen friends had followed, Stu leans forwards — not much, because he doesn’t really have to lean far — and presses his lips into Billy’s skin.

He kisses Billy’s neck, and the boy almost falters. He almost turns his head to give Stu a better angle, so he can maneuver his mouth against the other’s. He doesn’t, but it takes a village to swallow back his urge.

He wasn’t quite sure what genre of a movie this made his life, but it was a movie he would fuckin’ watch.

[williamwentzall]

@terroryuriweek day 5 - "Wedding"

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace"