#birthday bonanza

[lesmotsdemoi]

Birthday Bonanza Conclusion ♌️♌️♌️

Happy birthday to Maddie!

Your beautiful smile and clever wit light up any room you are in 🌞 You are generous, giving and a fantastic foster mom to six rescued kittens

🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛

We wish you the happiest of birthdays and a lifetime of love and joy.

You chose the polish and I matched the nailart to your birthday dress 🪻🪻🪻Untried mani 54

Different Dimension Prism

[viovio]

WAHHHHHHHHWAHHHHHHH TY ALL FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES 🥹🥹🥹 YALL ARE SOOOOO SWEET ❤️❤️❤️🍉

[mooniladragon]

guess whos the birthday girl today!!! its meeeeeeee!!! im 15 now. yay/wahoo/yippee et cetera et cetera

[bubblescribe]

Day 3 of the Scrap Olympics

Welcome to Day 3 of Scrap Olympics! Prepare to dive into your punches to create,

This prompt seems easy. Go in, grab a punch from the bottom or out of the box and use it. However, like with all punches, finding just the right one or use for the layout can be tricky. I have a digital and traditional layout to share with you today. Traditional I recently found a “new to me” unbe-leaf-able punch from another advisor’s summer sale. This punch can be utilized in a recipe…

[sojutrait]

swiftie ass cake 🫵🤣

[theladycarpathia]

Billy Hargrove’s rules for mix tapes (and the one exception)

Prompt: Mix tapes

Steve Harrington brings mix tapes into his car.

That’s not even the worst thing

It’s the fact that Billy actually fucking allows it.

He fucking sits in the driver’s seat, watching Harrington shove tape after tape into his car and all of it fucking sucks. He knows full well that if Max or Heather tried that shit in his car, he’d leave them on the side of the road. Argyle brought a Weird Al tape once and Billy had given him a Chinese burn until he swore never to do it again.

Not that Max’s music is all that bad. But he’s never going to tell her that. If he tells her that, she’ll think she can bring anything into his car. 

The problem is that she’s about to start thinking that anyway.

“Why does Steve get to sit in front?” Max gripes, reaching for her seat-belt and Billy levels a glare at her through the rear-view mirror. She glares back with equal venom.

“Because, Maxine, children sit in the back,” he retorts sweetly and scowls at her when she kicks the back of his chair.

“I think sisters should have priority,” she mutters, folding her arms across her chest. Dustin just blinks at her. He looks happy enough just to come along. He and Billy don’t know each other all that well, despite he’s Max’s friend and Steve’s favorite…well, Steve’s favorite. 

“I think children should be seen and not heard,” Billy counters, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Jesus fucking christ, how the hell did the munchkins invite themselves along? Steve had suggested they get pizza and Max had bulldozed her way into coming. 

“I think you should watch what you hide under your bed,” Max says archly, and he whirls around in his seat. Unfortunately, she’s too fast and whips her legs away in time, out of Billy’s reach.

“You shut your goddamn mouth,” Billy hisses, keeping a careful eye out for Steve, who’s busy locking up the Harrington mansion. Fucking hell, he thought that hiding his scant few mags in the loose slats under his bed meant that they’d be safe. If Neil ever finds out, Billy will probably need more stitches.

But Max just raises her eyebrows. 

“Well, think about that before you tell someone that they can borrow your tennis racket,” she points out. Billy thumps back into his seat. He’s not sure why he’s embarrassed about it, because Max knows…but Jesus, his sister knowing he has porn is all kinds of gross. 

“How the hell did you find it?” he asks quickly, because Steve is ambling down the drive towards them. 

“Slat’s too loose,” Max says quietly. There’s a slight flush to her face and Billy wonders how much she looked before she put them back. Billy leaves the less graphic girly mags out in plain view to keep his dad satisfied that his son isn’t queer. But those aren’t going to be the ones that have Max’s cheeks turning as red as her hair. “It fell on my head.”

Billy remembers the third occupant of the car just in time, glaring at the Henderson kid until he mimes zipping his lips.

“I heard nothing!” he says hurriedly. “Not a word.”

“What didn’t you hear?” Steve says, dropping into the passenger seat and Billy likes how it looks. Like he belongs there. 

“Nothing,” Billy says, wanting the conversation over. Max smirks a little and says nothing until Steve pulls a tape out of his bag.

“Why the hell does he get to put tapes in?” she asks, outraged, sliding forward in her seat as far as her seatbelt will let her. 

“Because he can,” Billy says, suddenly very sorry that he has a sister at all. She’s too mouthy and he has approximately five seconds before she puts it all together. “Shut up, Max.”

He turns the key in the ignition, hoping that she’ll get the hint and drop it.

But his sister is a fucking rottweiler and she never learnt to drop anything.

“You never let me bring tapes in here!” she complains, and the torture only gets worse when the tape goes in to play something bouncy and catchy that Billy wouldn’t be caught dead listening to.

“Borrowed it from Nancy,” Steve says, with a shrug, catching Billy’s eye. “Wanted to see what it was like.”

“You can play music in your own car,” Billy gripes, reversing down Steve’s driveway. Steve shrugs, unbothered.

“Yeah, I could,” he says and there’s an unusual expression on his face that Billy can’t quite name. They’ve been friends a while now and Billy’s gotten pretty used to the fact that Steve’s an open book. He never really needed to learn to mask his every feeling, like Billy does. 

But every so often, Billy thinks that Steve’s hiding something from him.

“Why are you letting Steve play Cindy Lauper in your car?” Max demands, her fingers an annoying flutter on Billy’s shoulder. He doesn’t look as he tells her to sit back in her seat. “Billy, why don’t I get to play music in your car?” Billy tries not to react. But it’s there, the answer held in the tiny clench in his jaw.

She sees.

“Huh,” Max says, the word like a lead weight on Billy’s chest, and she catches Billy’s eye in the mirror. Billy shakes his head ever so slightly.

“Can we all shut up now?” Billy says, adjusting his grip on the wheel. His palms are beginning to sweat. Max lets go of his chair and slides back into her seat. Billy can’t even be satisfied that she’s quiet for now, not with the nerves tap-dancing on his abdomen. “Or I will turn the car around.”

“What happened, what did I miss?” Dustin asks Max quietly, leaning over to whisper in her ear. 

“Steve’s special,” Max answers with obvious glee and while it’s not exactly the truth, it’s close enough that Billy’s heart skips a beat.

But when he looks to the right, Steve just smiles, something bright and satisfied. Like he knows that it’s true, maybe has always known that he’s the exception to Billy’s rules. 

“If you want me to stop, just say so,” Steve whispers. Billy dares to flick his eyes up to Steve’s and hopes he’s not wrong by what he sees there. Admitting that it’s true is as good as admitting…everything else.

“You’re good,” Billy croaks, mouth dry. Steve settles back into his seat, pleasure washing across his face. He reaches out and ejects the tape in a quick motion, the music cut off dead.

“Why’d you take it out?” Billy asks, a little confused. Steve shrugs and shoves the tape back in his pocket.

“I don’t think I need it anymore,” he says easily and the glitter in his dark eyes makes Billy want to kiss him. 

But something about Max’s amused face and Steve fiddling with the radio makes him think that there might be time for that later.

[stonerbang]

Here we go again with the StoryBots fan-arts! This one's made for a special occasion. But I shan't say anymore, for you probably know the answer. Enjoy :3

[edwardbonnets]

so it's my birthday today!!! 😎 i'm 23 years old, and i've had this blog for almost 3 years now, so i thought now is as good a time as any to celebrate!

because i thought it would be fun, i've decided to curate a list of some of my favorite blorbos in their respective pairings and put them into this poll! after a week, i will make a special gifset for the ships that make it into the top 5 spots!

the winning ships will be announced in their own special post and anyone can join in on the fun and make a gifset/fan-art/writing/etc of the top 5 ships as well! just @ me in the post or include the tag #emilysbbb and i'll be sure to share it! :D

rules:

reblogs aren't necessary but are greatly appreciated!

if you want to, you can put your 2nd and 3rd choices in the tags, i'll make sure to add those to the calculations when the poll is over! :)

this is a very silly, unserious poll, and this is not my complete and definitive list of favorite ships (since tumblr polls only allow 12 choices rip), this is all just for funsies!

tagging some mutuals below the cut:

no pressure to reblog!! just thought it would be fun to give yall a heads up and the chance to be the first ones to vote! <3

@latr1nal1a @willgaham @milkovichys @his-name-is-ed @stedebonnets @blakbonnet @rainbowbonnet @kendallroycos @userstede @figmentof @captain-flint @cobbbvanth @startreklesbian @crowleyaj @queerbuck @djarin @djaarins @captain-stede @torybrennan @seance @dykefaggotry @ad-astrah @nobie @edwarbteach @stars-bean @jacobglaser

[shieldofiron]

On Call

Harringrove Week March 27: How Many Candles on the Birthday Cake: 30 years old

Doctor AU, all Fluff baby, Also on AO3 Here.

Steve tried his best not to use the on call room. When he had started, and Dr. Hopper had pointed it out, Steve had proudly told himself that he wouldn’t need it. After all, he got his rest on his time off, he exercised, he took his vitamins. Sure, a long shift was hard, but he was tougher than all that. Surely when he had an on call shift, he could do laps around the hospital or read a book or study his cases.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. After ten hours on the floor and the prospect of another eight with his phone clutched between his hands, waiting to be called back, he longed for the blandness of this small, windowless room. He wasn’t likely to sleep properly, but having his eyes closed briefly while his feet were allowed to rest sent a shiver of actual longing through him. Everything ached. He swore he could feel every strand of hair crying out in exhaustion.

As he let himself into the room, running a hand through his hair and massaging his scalp with a groan of pleasure.

It was a square, with two sets of bunk beds hugging the walls and a small desk. The only light came from the dimmed desk lamp, and he realized with a start that someone was already occupying the room. A very large someone, who was using their white coat as a blanket, had set their shoes tidily under the lower bunk. The person turned, probably hearing his ill-timed moan, and Steve made another involuntary sound as blue eyes met his.

“Dr. Hargrove,” Steve whispered quietly, ducking his chin and reaching for his phone in his pocket, just for something to do.

Dr. Hargrove blinked, “Harrington.”

They had never been on good terms. Somehow, a rocky first impression had led to a constant barrage of attention from Dr. Hargrove. He clearly thought Steve was the worst nurse on the floor, constantly double checking the patients they shared and finding little reasons to look over Steve’s work. And it was all just petty macho bullshit in Steve’s opinion. He had worked damn hard to make it here, he wasn’t going to let some asshole with one more degree than his try to take him down.

Steve could keep it professional. He just wished Dr. Hargrove, with his movie star good looks and snarky comments, could do the same. He still flushed with embarrassment remembering when Dr. Hargrove had personally brought Steve a slice of his own birthday cake only a few days earlier, saying Steve could use ‘something sweet.’ The piece had been from the middle, with a big red ‘30′ on it, almost as red as Steve’s cheeks had been.

He wished he would stop looking at Steve. This new look, when Dr. Hargrove was sleepy and rumpled, was even worse than when he was cross, or upset. It was... disarming.

They looked at each other, both seeming to expect that the other would speak first. But it seemed almost sacrilege in this quiet space. 

Steve nodded, trying to put a close on that strange, expectant feeling. Instead of continuing to look at Dr. Hargrove while he was obviously trying to rest, he went to the little desk to plug in his phone, cursing quietly when the worn cord refused to charge it, even after he tried wrapping it around several times. Shit.

He had meant to buy a new one. He fully intended to. But a full nurse's schedule didn’t always leave a lot of time for small errands. Besides this one worked, kind of.

Dr. Hargrove cleared his throat behind Steve. He turned as if a maniac in a mask were creeping up behind him.

Hargrove held out a little black box, shaking it at Steve until he stepped over and took it and turned it over in his hand. Hargrove cleared his throat again, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, like that was helpful.

Steve furrowed his brow at the featureless box, “You ok, Dr. Hargrove?”

“It’s a portable charger,” His throat sounded dry, and husky, “You can detach the cable here.” He reached out and pulled at a corner of the black box, tugging a charging cable free from its hidden spot. Their fingers brushed, just a little, and Steve could smell the antiseptic soap and cheap cigarettes that Dr. Hargrove snuck in the tiny smoking area on the ground floor.

“Fancy,” Steve flushed, “I couldn’t see in the dark. Uhm, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” He had never heard Dr Hargrove speak like this. He had heard him bark, shout, growl, and grumble. But whispering seemed to take his voice into another, secret register. Like a light touch along the skin, it could raise goosebumps.

Steve turned his back on him, his head swimming. It was probably just that he was tired. Your mind could turn fanciful and strange when you were tired.

He plugged his phone into the little box and it chimed, the display showing a photo of him and his nursing school friend Robin on graduation day, grinning into the sun. It also illuminated the cracks in his phone screen. Steve sighed, kicked off his worn sneakers at the foot of the bed,  and heaved himself onto the top bunk above Dr. Hargrove. Just in case, it felt better if Steve was in a place where he couldn’t see Steve, or judge him.

Steve tucked his backpack into the bottom corner of the bed and his phone in the front pocket, then reached inside for the blanket he had brought just for this purpose. The hospital AC was always working overtime, and even though Steve didn’t want to be weak and use the on call rooms, at least he wasn’t going to get frostbite if he did. Poor Dr. Hargrove hadn’t looked particularly warm either.

Steve bit his lip, hearing him turn over on the bunk below Steve’s. The only sounds in the room were the AC and his slow and steady breathing. If Steve got called in, he ought to offer him the blanket. It wasn’t a bad one, a travel blanket he’d picked up on a weekend trip to Indiana. Dr. Hargrove might not have wanted to use it because it was Steve’s, but if he threw it in the trash Steve wouldn’t lose any sleep. Besides, it was soft, worn in fleece, the perfect balance of thin and warm, and it would be better than Dr. Hargrove’s drafty white coat.

He shifted underneath the blanket and self-consciously lay down, all while trying in vain not to make any noise. Maybe he should have taken the other lower bunk. It seemed like every tiny motion caused an eruption of creaks and groans from the metal frame. Steve tried to cozy into the pillow in tiny infinitesimal movements, but it only worked a little. When he finally relaxed all his muscles, he stifled a groan. Perhaps he could sleep, with the light so dim and the hospital just barely at the edge of his mind.

He woke up with a start an unknown amount of time later. An alarm was blaring, the ever present sound of the pager app that the hospital used, the one sound that could raise Steve even from the dead. Suddenly alert, he groped at his feet for the phone in a haze.

Dr. Hargrove groaned, the whole bed shaking as he moved swiftly.

Steve flopped back to the mattress and swiped at his phone with bleary eyes, trying to see the alert, but the app was only showing hours old messages. It didn’t register that the alert wouldn’t belong to him, until a weight settled over Steve gently, and the door was yanked open. A smell unlike the hospital’s or his detergent settled around his. Something woodsy and crisp, with a faint trace of cigarette smoke. He was slightly warmer in his little cocoon. Oh.

Dr. Hargrove had given Steve his coat. There was something very tidy in that, an ellipses to close his thought of sharing his blanket. But the feeling that curled in his chest was not settled or tidy. Steve’s brain stalled a little on warm feelings and confusion, but he buried it, curling to his side under Dr. Hargrove’s coat.

[welightitup]

Home Is Where the Heart Is... (15k words)

“George and Charles?!” Pierre exclaims, with no other context or explanation.

“What about them?” Yuki asks rather calmly, given the situation. But then again, it’s not like he’s affected by it in any way or form. That’s been reserved for just Alex and Pierre.

“They’re our George and Charles!” Alex adds to the conversation, and he can see the exact moment it all clicks in Yuki’s brain as his pinched features open right up into pure surprise.

“Nooo!” Yuki draws out, arms dropping in shock. “Really?”

aka the New Girl AU where everyone is everyone's exes. Except for Yuki.

Part 1 of the Who’s That Guy? series, co-created with @singsweetmelodies, who also designed the amazing series poster.

For the wonderful @boxboxbrioche​ <3 Happy birthday!

[joe-zone]

In honour of his birthday, fifteen facts you may or may not know about our beloved boy! (as requested by @gomezgal ) 🥰

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

⚽ Joe’s full name is Joseph (not Joe) Dave (not David) Gomez

⚽ He’s LFC’s longest serving first team player

⚽ Joey was so good - and strong - for his age that he made his debut for Charlton's under 18 team when he was only 13!

⚽ His favourite film is ‘The Pursuit of Happyness’

⚽ He used to play football with Timothée Chalamet when he was young

⚽ He met his gorgeous Mrs on the school bus

⚽ His neighbour is Sir Alex Ferguson (Ali, Robbo and Ox also live on the same street!)

⚽ Joe was named Man of the Match on his first ever start for England (against Brazil in 2017)... and accidentally smashed the bottle of champagne he was awarded just after receiving it!

⚽ He celebrated that 4-0 Champions League win over Barcelona in 2019...by playing Monopoly all night with his mates

⚽ Joey is a big fan of Youtuber Tom Bilyeu and his Impact Theory self-development videos

⚽ He was eligible to represent Gambia as well as England at international level

⚽ When he first arrived at Liverpool, living away from his family for the first time, the Melwood canteen ladies took him under their wing and made him food to take home with him as he couldn’t cook for himself (Too cute!!!)

⚽ He has NEVER scored a professional goal...yet!

⚽ Like everything else, his feet are big too! He wears uk size 11 shoes / football boots

⚽ His childhood heroes were Thierry Henry and Rio Ferdinand

[music-crush]

Al Caiola

Happy birthday, Alexander Emil Caiola!

[sojutrait]

IM FEELIN 22 HAPPY BDAY TO ME tiktok related

[fieriframes]

[Death like style is the removal of rubbish.]

[theladycarpathia]

This time we're gonna see this through

Prompt: Steve Harrington’s closet during a spring break party

“I feel like this is a conspiracy,” Steve says. Billy slides down the length of the door and rolls his eyes.

“You think?” he says flatly. Steve tries the handle anyway, just to be sure. It just rattles, a sound that no one will hear over the thumping music.

“It’s locked, genius,” Billy says, with his eyes closed. Like it hurts to look at Steve. Maybe it does.

Which is fucked up, because Steve’s not the one who left.

“Those assholes,” Steve hisses, yanking at the handle. It’s his fucking party, and he’s been locked in here like a child with the one person he’d hoped not to see ever again.

“Those assholes are our friends,” Billy points out, and Steve snorts. Robin is going to pay for this. She owes him big time. And yeah, maybe she had good intentions. It’s been nearly a year and Steve has been less than himself for most of it. It’s been fine. It was a break up. He needed time to get over it and he’d thrown a huge spring break party to prove that he was not still fucking moping.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Steve says, slapping his palm against the door. If he was a betting man, he’d probably guess that someone has also wedged a chair under the handle. They’re going nowhere.

So he chooses to stalk to the opposite wall and sit down. It means he has to look at Billy but anything is going to be better than feeling the heat of Billy’s skin and remembering when they used to lie together in Steve’s bed.

“How did you even end up here anyway?” Steve asks, because he thinks he’d remember asking Billy along to the party. Billy shrugs and tips his head back against the door. 

“Heather,” he says briefly. Steve sighs. Right. He should have known that his best friend and Billy’s best friend probably kept in touch after. At least that was one relationship that hadn’t shattered.

“You knew it was my house,” Steve says, because this is the thought that has bothered him since he spotted Billy’s Camaro. He and Billy have very carefully kept to their own circles since that day in July. “Why did you even agree to come?” 

“Heather wanted to,” Billy mumbles and he won’t meet Steve’s eyes. He’s fiddling with that scrap of leather around his wrist. It hadn’t looked so pathetic when he and Steve had been dating and the sad realization of how much time has passed hits Steve like a punch to the chest.

Steve wraps his arms around himself. He wishes he could hate Billy, after everything. 

“Plus you did always throw good parties,” Billy says, with a flicker of something that looks like the old Billy. The one who arrived midway Junior year and immediately got into Steve’s face. Who wanted to be seen and wanted and…

Steve isn’t even sure who Billy is anymore.

“Damn straight,” Steve retorts. He just has to deal until Robin or someone comes to let them out. If Nancy finds out, she might take pity on Steve. And she only knows the bare bones of it: the break up, what happened after, and the horrible, awful truth of it. 

“Heard from Hagan that you kind of fell out of the party scene,” Billy says carefully and Steve recognizes it for what it is. It’s the same kind of tone that Steve uses when he wants information out of Max. At least, back when he used to ask. 

“Yeah, well…” Steve says vaguely, because what is he meant to say? 

“Just lost interest in it,” he says finally, after the silence hangs around like the dust motes in the air. “Do you still work at Benny’s?” He knows full well that Billy does, and that chafes because Benny’s burgers are still the best food in town. He hasn’t dared set foot there, now that he no longer knows Billy’s schedule.

“Yeah,” Billy says, and stretches out his long legs across the floor. Steve discreetly shifts his left leg, trying to avoid Billy’s knee pressing into his own. “He offered to keep me on full time but I’m not here for long when I get that diploma.”

Steve’s heart sinks. Of course not. He never really expected Billy to stay in Hawkins but hearing it for certain is like a knife. What is it now? March, so there’s barely any time at all before Billy’s gone for good. 

“Will you go back to California?” Steve asks, because he has to keep talking. He feels like he’s going to be sick, that this cupboard and the boy in it is smothering him. No amount of convincing himself that it’s a good thing will do. Because yes, it will be easier to breathe once Billy has gone, when he no longer has to keep checking over his shoulder. 

But it means that they’re done and the small hope Steve has kept alive for the last year - that maybe, maybe they’ll get back together - has finally been snuffed out.

“Yeah,” Billy says quietly. He still won’t look at Steve, hands folded in his lap. It’s fine. Steve got pretty used to the idea that he was someone to be ashamed of, when Billy told him to his face last year.

“Good,” Steve says, and everything tastes bitter as he says it. “Good. I know you missed it.”

“You always knew I’d be leaving,” Billy says, and there’s a faint razor line in his voice. And oh, fuck him for getting angry. He has no fucking right to be angry about this. He dumped Steve and now he’s leaving.

“Yes, I did,” Steve spits. “It’s fine. Glad I’m not getting in your way. Jesus Christ, when are they going to let us out of here?” Because the music is still pounding and it feels very much like they’ve been forgotten. And he can’t even leave when they get out of here because it’s his fucking house.

“You weren’t in my way!” Billy retorts, voice rising and Steve finally snaps his head back to stare Billy right in the eyes for the first time since the door locked behind them. And he must be pretty fucking screwed up to miss this: the flush in Billy’s face as they fight, how gorgeous Billy looks with that wild look in his eyes. But back then their fights were always made up. Not this time. “You were never in my way! Jesus, Steve, I loved you. Okay? I fucking loved you and I always wanted to take you with me.”

Steve stares at him wordlessly, feeling as though all his strings had been cut. He’s not sure what’s worse - that Billy apparently changed his mind or that Billy used the past tense.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Great. Good for you. Thanks for telling me.” Billy’s lip curls in a sneer.

“Is that it?” he hisses. There’s a faint glimmer of hurt on his face that Steve doesn’t quite understand.  “Jesus fucking…Fuck you, Steve Harrington!” 

“You wish,” Steve bites out. Billy’s mouth twists and he slams at the door with a fist. Steve winces at the rattle. He wants out but not badly enough to explain to his parents why the door is broken.

“Guess I won’t ever see you again when we get out of here,” Billy mutters to his shoes. Steve feels bile crawl up his throat. So. That’s it then.

“No,” Steve says, trying to make it sound like he doesn’t give a shit. “No, I guess not.”

The door suddenly clicks and is yanked open, throwing Billy and Steve into sudden bright light. Steve blinks before he sees Robin and Heather’s curious faces in the doorway.

“So?” Robin asks expectantly, and Steve only feels crushing disappointment at the excitement on her face. Billy just stands up and pushes past them, without looking back once at Steve. Robin twists her head between Steve, still on the cupboard floor, and the rapidly vanishing Billy into the crowd.

“Billy!” Heather calls after him, her voice lost to the pounding music. “Wait! What happened?” She turns back to Steve, her and Robin wearing matching faces of confusion. “Didn’t he ask you?”

“Ask me what?” Steve asks, pulling himself up. His legs feel as though they’ve gone to sleep and he wonders how long they’ve been sitting in here.

“He didn’t ask you?” Robin demands furiously. “He was supposed to ask you!”

“Ask me what?!” Steve repeats, feeling a little like when he was in a ball pit as a kid. No matter how hard he tried, he always felt like the edge of the pit was too far away. It feels like that now, fighting constantly against a swirling mass, what he wants just a little bit out of his grasp.

Heather exhales, her face quietly disappointed. “Steve, what did you do?” she asks, quietly.

“Nothing!” Steve says defensively, instinctively. He used to fight with Billy a lot, about nothing, about stupid shit. Because it was part of who they were, because they enjoyed it. Because it ended in great sex. This was different. This is a fight where if Billy leaves now, he’s never coming back.

Steve looks up at two grave faces and feels like everyone else knows something he doesn’t. 

“What was he supposed to ask me?” he says and Robin just shakes her head.

“Go ask him yourself,” she says shortly and disappears into the churning crowd. Steve watches her go, feeling frustrated.

“I don’t understand,” he says to Heather. He lost her too, when he and Billy broke up. People shouldn’t have to choose sides but somehow they always do.

“What’s new?” she mutters, dragging her fingers through her tousled dark hair. There’s glitter smeared across her collarbones, sparkling in the flashing lights above the lace edge of her corset. 

“Heather!” Steve demands. He’s fucked up and he doesn’t even know how. “I don’t know what I did wrong! We were talking and then he said he was going to ask me to go with him…” Heather’s jaw drops.

“So he did ask?” she says, before her eyes turn cold and hard. “Fucking hell, Steve! Do you know how hard it was for me to get him to come here? He was sure that you hated him!”

But Steve doesn’t hear her.

Billy was supposed to ask Steve to go with him when he left for California? But he’d said it in the past tense…and so Steve had thought that Billy no longer wanted him to go. No longer wanted him. But that hadn’t been the case at all. Billy had come here and Robin had perhaps known that there was no way Steve would stop and listen unless he had to.

And it hadn’t worked anyway. Steve had heard Billy but he hadn’t listened. And now Billy was leaving, entirely certain that Steve didn’t love him.

Steve takes off at a run, pushing past the startled Heather. Billy’s had a good few minutes head start and he has to hope that the Camaro is blocked in. He skids down the corridor, shoves a few people on the stairs as he passes and accidentally treads on Patrick’s foot on his way out of the front door. 

The front of the house is mainly empty, a few people hanging out on the porch under the twinkling lights. The driveway is packed, cars crammed in as close as they can get. The people who arrived first have no chance of leaving until the dozens of cars behind them have moved. 

Steve leaps off the porch steps and weaves through the cars, looking for that familiar blue. He’s always loved that car. They’d had sex in that car. Kissed for the first time in that car. Lay out on the hood and watched the stars.

The Camaro is blocked in, by some piece of junk and a Toyota. Billy stands by the driver door, fiddling with a cigarette. Steve shouts his name and watches the shock on Billy’s face as he turns around.

“So you are stuck in,” Steve pants, because Family Video isn’t a hugely physical job. Jesus, maybe he should take up basketball again. 

“Yeah,” Billy says shortly. He’s still twirling the cigarette between his fingers, like he can’t decide whether or not to light it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon. Hell, I can walk if needed.”

“Don’t,” Steve begs and takes a hesitant step forward. Christ, only he would have the man he loves come back to him and supremely fuck it up. “Please. Heather and Robin made me think that maybe I misunderstood you.” Billy’s jaw tightens.

“Maybe you did,” he says, leaning against the car. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what’s been misunderstood here?”

Steve licks his lips, looking for saliva and courage “I thought you were telling me you changed your mind. About me going with you.”

“Maybe I have,” Billy mutters churlishly, but there’s a delicate flush climbing his neck. Steve shakes his head. He’s pretty certain that’s untrue. It means that, despite Billy’s cold dismissal of him last year, Billy has always loved him.

“No, you haven’t,” Steve counters. “Do you? Want me to go with you?” Billy exhales slowly, and when he looks up, he’s the boy that Steve knew. Not the cruel one from last year, nor the one from the cupboard. 

“Yes,” he admits. “Steve, I always wanted you to go with me. Robin wants to come too, but they knew that you probably wouldn’t if it was with me. I thought for sure after last year you hated me…”

“No,” Steve bursts out. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t understand why, but I didn’t.” Billy gives a sharp bark of laughter. 

“You should have,” he says bitterly. “I deserved it. That was the worst way I could have…”

“Why did you?” Steve asks, edging closer. He resists the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, because there’s a bite to the air that he hadn’t noticed before. He wonders how Billy is standing there without shivering, before he remembers the constant warmth of Billy’s skin.

“Had to,” Billy says distantly. “I still had a full year of school left, even though you were about to graduate. Another year to live at home…” he cuts himself off but not before Steve catches his meaning.

“Neil knew?” he breathes, because Neil wasn’t supposed to know. They probably hadn’t been careful enough, given that most of Billy’s class, and a lot of Steve’s knew that they were together. All it would have taken was for someone to mention it to a parent and then for that person to mention it to Neil.

Neil didn’t care to have a gay son under his roof.

“So it had to be public and I couldn’t tell you,” Billy says, and the regret on his face is heart wrenching. “I wanted to but…” Steve nods. Billy’s life was already hell. If Neil had ever found out that he was still talking to Steve, life wouldn’t have been worth it.

“But you’re getting out?” Steve asks, because that’s clearly the plan. Billy’s going to turn eighteen soon, mere weeks away from graduating and being free of Neil. Billy nods, but he makes no mention of his former offer.

“He was going to hurt you,” Billy says, turning his face up to Steve’s. His blue eyes are huge in the moonlight, surrounded by full, pale lashes. Steve always thought that Billy’s distance this past year was down to indifference, rather than what it was. Guilt, regret, an act of protection. “I’m sorry. I just had to be sure it was public and he’d hear about it.”

Steve should hate him. The humiliation had been bad enough, being pushed away like he was something underfoot but the devastation had been even worse. The person he’d adored had just…stopped loving him. 

“You still love me,” Steve says, unable to stop the dopey grin spreading across his face. Billy’s flush deepens.

“Yeah, well, you still love me,” he retorts. He stashes the cigarette away in a pocket, like it was a safety net that he no longer needs. He offers a hand and Steve doesn’t hesitate to take it.

It’s like they haven’t spent a year apart with the way that they fit together. Billy feels the same, from the soft spot under his ear, to the curls under Steve’s fingers, to the hips that slot into his. It’s fucking freezing but they kiss and kiss, under Steve can no longer feel his fingers and his mouth is a raw red.

“Come with me,” Billy breathes hopefully, struggling for the keys to open the Camaro. They can’t drive anywhere just yet, but they can make use of the backseat. The good kind of fights are made up with orgasms. Steve can pull Billy into his lap, like they used to, curled around each other to fit. Back then it used to feel like they were one person, connected all the way from head to heels to heart. No one will notice them while they take the time to relearn how to be together.

“Always,” Steve promises and shuts the door behind them.

[singsweetmelodies]

... And My Heart Is With You

piarles & galex ~ sitcom au ~ 16k words ~ rated m

The more time they all spend together, the more his roommates are slowly starting to drive him insane. It's not because Charles and George turned out to be assholes after the first few weeks. No, they're both still as nice as ever. They're just… pining, which is much worse, in Yuki's eyes.

What makes it even worse is that Charles and George aren't even pining for each other. Oh no. They are pining for Pierre and Alex, respectively – but Pierre and Alex don't seem to realise that. They just pine right back, because they for some reason believe that Charles and George are dating.

How they are missing the obvious longing looks, Yuki has no idea. All he knows is that something has got to change around here, or all four of his flatmates are in danger of being thrown head-first into the Seine.

AKA: misunderstandings in the loft are at an all-time high. What will it take for it all to be sorted out?

Part 2 of the Who's That Guy? series!

written for our most darling birthday princess @boxboxbrioche: Briony, I love you ridiculous amounts. Sitcom amounts, in fact! I hope you have had the best birthday/birthday week 🤭❤️💙💚 I a 🚪 you!!

Biggest hugs and kisses and thank-you's to my beloved @welightitup for being the BEST partner in crime giggles and jinxes for this series!! It has been an absolute ball writing this one with you - and here's to many many more 🤗❤️💙💚