#i just KNOW they get up to some gay ass shit in those tunnels

[lesbokyoko]

felt possessed to draw ara x ara (colloquially known as arara)

[lakesbian]

@simurghed ok here are some miscellaneous nothing thoughts ive had about undersiders team vacation for you. this is my purest form of autism theres literally nothing interesting under this post just a lot of words of me sticking undersiders into situations. thats not intended as self deprecation just fair warning

if they went in a cave where the tour guide is like "DO NOT TOUCH ANY CAVE FORMATIONS or they will BE DESTROYED, FOREVER, after THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF BEAUTIFUL EXISTENCE" brian would immediately proceed to spend the entire tour staring at aisha and alec instead of looking at the rocks and shit and preparing to grab them if either of them attempts to touch a cave formation. alec would accidentally set his hand on one w/o realizing while huffing and puffing his way up stairs or a steep incline but he would be walking behind the rest of the team so no one would notice and he would pretend it didn't happen

brian accidentally slams his forehead into top of low tunnel everyone is walking through and swears for like 20 continuous seconds and then has to go sit somewhere with an ice pack and the entire time hes like I bet aisha and alec are touching so many fucking cave formations right now.

if the undersiders went on a hike or something where there were like. Ledges. over Long Drops. aisha would without doubt go stand on them and dick around in a spry 13yo manner and it would freak brian out so much he would yell Aisha Middle Name Laborn Get Your Ass The FUCK Down From There!!!!! and then she would pretend to be startled like she was about to fall off for a moment and he would almost have a heart attack and he would be so mad for the entire rest of the day and not let her off the trail at all and keep glaring at her

if they went to a beach they could all wear cute little swimsuits...taylor would have a full bodysuit (dark gray) but mostly just spend time sitting in a chair reading. rachie wouldnt wear a swimsuit but she would just take her dogs up and down the beach on walks in normal clothes and maybe get a bit damp anyway. brian would wear swim trunks and a long-sleeved top because he also feels uncomfortable having too much skin exposed but, like, more quietly. aisha is wearing a purple tankini with one of brians giant t-shirts over top. voluntarily, to be clear, ifeel like someone might misinterpret this as "brian made her" but shes doing that on purpose. i also think she has at least one "nightgown" that is fully a massive shirt stolen from brian but thats besides the point. lisa is wearing a purple bikini with one of those like. flowy half-skirts tied around the bottom. and alec is wearing girls swim shorts and one of those sheer white swim cover tops youre supposed to take off before you get in the water except he's not taking it off

aisha keeps pestering alec to go swimming with her and he's like sure ok and lets her drag him in. and then almost drowns because he doesn't know how to swim and figured he could just "wing it." brian has to dredge him out and he spends several minutes coughing up seawater sopping wet style while brian takes the opportunity to lecture about how he's stupid. and then he spends the next half hour after that complaining about how there is Sand up his Buttcrack.

aisha and alec spend literally like over half an hour just standing next to taylors chair pestering her to make a crab rave happen. she tries to ask lisa for back-up but lisa says she also wants to see the crab rave. so it happens. very clandestinely with only a few crabs.

aisha demands a ride on brian's shoulders into the ocean. he obliges. alec demands to get to go next. he is denied, because brian thinks it would be kind of gay. he doesn't say that, but it's what he's thinking.

i think they should get to have the most miserable time on the planet all waiting for their turns to shower off in the hotel room after going swimming. reasonably they would have multiple rooms but i like to envision theres only one and everyone is shivering and holding malicious intent towards whoever is actively in the shower. they make alec go last because they know how he is with long showers and he just kind of sits tragically on the entry tile in a slowly collecting puddle of sandy water and stares into space looking haunted and intermittently shivering

undersiders trip to history museum. undersiders trip to preserved historical building. undersiders trip to preserved fancy mansion. ive posted about this one before but both alec and brian are enjoying it (for different reasons) while aisha HATES it and it's freaking all three of them out a little. alec is performatively trying to pretend he also thinks it's lame because he's (largely platonically) whipped but then he turns around and asks the tour guide an actual question and he and aisha both know that in this moment he has betrayed and abandoned her. they reconcile via shared advocacy for ice cream afterwards

alec vasil hot and tired of walking frow up incident, no deaths, intense injury to one boy's pride and also his shoes

brian laborns intense and immense joy over getting to organize and use the contents of his cargo shorts

the incredible drama of brian laborn trying to parallel park the van in a really tight spot while lisa and taylor both play unwanted spotter for him and he's like Please. just Let me Concentr-. Just let me do what i need to do just be quiet for a minute . they do stop talking for a minute, during which aisha takes the opportunity to start making fart noises

rachel lindt is fitting so many ouppie dogs in the van and theyre just kind of ferreting between everyones legs and climbing onto laps to stick their heads out the windows and shit. this starts off as something everyone but rachel is mad about but settles into a more amenable cuddle pile situation

undersiders go to aquarium or zoo....zoo would be more fun to witness because alec would complain about it being hot + smelling bad the whole time. lisa has the intelligent idea to quiet him with a blue raspberry slushie

speaking of lisa you know shes going into this entire thing like Taylor Specifically has to have the most funnest specialest time ever. shes always like "ok ill read some dinner options off the phone :)" and then all 5 of them are things taylor specifically would love. and so on and so forth.

alec vasil spotted wandering lost and ghostlike in the modern art gallery

i could go on

[whysojiminimnida]

Can I just say that I love that you take non shits on here and aren't afraid to just say you 100% think that jikook are together. Like I get that people have to put qualifiers on their statements because we really don't know if we're right (and I'm sure there are doubts you have too cause we don't know for certain) but you're like fuck that it's right there that they're boning lol.

Thanks for not letting antis bully you into not admitting what we're all seeing with out two eyes

Awww thanks for making my whole day, super nice anon!

It might be an age thing (I’m Gen X and too old to care) or other factors but honestly I don’t get how people with working eyeballs and brains wanna yell “we don’t knowwwww stop seXualiZing themmmm”. I don’t see how Jiminie wa Jungkookie could make it clearer and still live where they do with the jobs they have. We don’t have to ship them when they’re feeling each other up and leaving marks in front of our salad and then posting selfies like

I mean really y’all in any heterosexual pairing the world would just be like ��yep they boning” because they are adults and grown people do stuff like that.

The only reason - literally the ONLY reason - the Jeon-Parks piss people off is because they are both men in a romantic sexual gay gay gay relationship that is not with the freaked out Y/N fan who’s gonna die mad about it.

And yes I get that I might be seen as guilty of stereotyping behaviors at times - like this dainty lovely super gay Koo right here

But that is not a straight man. That might be a bi man or a pan man or not a man but that is not a straight man. Neither is this

The Jeon-Parks have spent years yelling into a wind tunnel and the people who aren’t listening are one of three things: virgins, homophobic or mad it’s not them. And mostly if they’re mad they’re mad at Jimin which: let’s talk stereotypes.

They see Jimin as smaller and feminine which is what they want to be and/or are mad that they’re maybe not that idk? and Kookie as a big ass manly man which he is but… that’s the line for me. I will tell the world that my queer idols are queer as hell kinky af look pretty vers from here and I’m happy to see it but I will not speculate on what goes on beyond that. I had to come back here and edit for content ffs.

Masc or femme third person perception has zero do to with first person reality or what goes where. Get a spectrometer and let people fucking live.

Those are some masculine powerful fucking legs though.

All that TL;DR to say YEP THEY DO and it is normal and healthy to have sexy gay sex in a long term adult gay relationship and there is nothing for them to hide or be ashamed of. If other people wanna be upset by that, well, tough shit I guess because guess what they’re probably gonna keep doing it. And good for them good for them.

Normalize healthy adult sex regardless of gender or orientation. It’s okay to enjoy it. I assure you the Jeon-Parks do.

[yikesharringrove]

It’s a book Steve’s actually read.

Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.

His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.

It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.

He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.

Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.

Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.

But, whatever.

He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.

Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.

Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore. 

Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-

He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.

One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and

“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”

Hargrove.

Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.

“Can it, dickhead.”

To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.

Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.

Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.

“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”

“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”

“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”

“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”

He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.

It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.

“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”

“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”

The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.

He needed Kate now more than ever.

“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”

“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”

Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.

“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”

Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.

You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.

“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”

“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”

Billy just stared at him.

Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.

“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.

And then Billy did something very unexpected.

Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.

He lit up a cigarette.

And then passed it to Steve.

Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.

Which was really long.

Swimmer’s lungs. And that.

He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”

“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”

“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”

Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.

Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.

Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.

Domesticated.

“You’re staring at me.”

Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.

Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.

Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.

He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.

“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”

Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”

“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”

“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”

And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.

Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?

No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights

“She’s not worht it, y’know.”

Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.

“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.

There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.

Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.

“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”

“Hey.”

Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.

“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”

Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence again.

Kate was back to the chorus.

The song was almost over.

���You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”

Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.

Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.

“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.

“Good. Very good.”

Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.

“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.

Steve thought they were going to kiss again.

He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.

But Billy just grinned again.

And skipped the song.

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺����

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

[zagisbi]

I played a run with the new update last night, here are some impressions (in the order I remember them happening):

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

ACHILLES IS SUPER HANDSOME AND NOW HE JUST EXISTS ALWAYS

New cosmetics in the house 😭😭😭 I'm too poor for this

THE WEAPONS... THE DARKNESS BOOST ANIMATION GOT A GLOW. UP.

New Daedalus Hammer options? 👀 Count me IN

The hand... Chain... Things? Awful. (But excellent)

The new miniboss? Suck my dick that fight sucked and was very scary 😭😭 (8/10)

Chaos still out here lookin like a SNACC and I can't wait to get all of their new boons

New rooms? GORGEOUS

CHARON REALLY BE OUT HERE GIVING LOOKS! MONSTERFUCKERS WON!

THE RAINBOWS WHEN YOU GET BOONS NOW???? HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

No seriously mfers said "give the gays everything they want" AND MEANT IT!!!

The new burrowing mfs and circle spread witches can honestly eat a brick Asphodel is truly a punishment now (9/10 tho)

LERNIE OUT HERE GETTING NEW HORNS 😭😭 KILL IT QUEEN (but that increased range almost killed me so 😶)

Okay but deadass the heads that spit out the things that make enemies spawn? Those suck. Hated that. (6/10)

WAIT THAT DIONYSUS BOON THAT MAKES THE FOUNTAINS HEAL YOU TO FULL? BITCH THAT CAME IN MF CLUTCH

I would Die for Hermes (this has not changed since he was introduced)

I've always hated Elysium. The new rooms are way worse (especially bc I was using the bow which isn't my best weapon) and I got my ass beat but the FOUNTAIN SAVED ME DIONYSUS IS 👌WE STAN LIKE 6 MEN

Okay also the fact that the shops don't give you death defiance until you need it? 😳 THAT IS SO SEXY OF THEM

NEW ITEMS INCLUDING THE CENTAUR SOULS YES PLEASE

Charon is still sexy

SUPERGIANT CALL ME I THINK YOU SHOULD ADD ISIS AS YOUR NEXT GODDESS AND I WILL GIVE YOU AN ESSAY EXPLAINING WHY AND ALSO WHAT ABILITIES SHE COULD HAVE

I found that shield guys were easier to fight and that's probably just me BUT I'll give it to them anyway

THANATOS IS STILL MY BOY(FRIEND) AND I LOVE HIM VERY DEARLY AND NOW KILLING ENEMIES WITH HIM IS ACTUALLY A COMPETITION

I love that they made Theseus such an ass because my drive to beat him goes up like 700% every time I talk to him so thanks for that and the new dialogue

ATHENA CAME FOR MY WIG DURING THAT FIGHT THO I'M SORRY I WENT TO CHAOS INSTEAD OF YOU

(Not really tho bc Chaos is 😳 if you know what I mean)

OKAY THOSE TUNNELS MURDERED ME I LOST 2 DEATH DEFIANCES AND I DIDN'T EVEN DO THE BOSS ONES LIKE- WAS I OUT OF PRACTICE OR WAS THAT SO MUCH HARDER?

ALSO HADES FUCKING ATE ME LIKE NO SHIT. I BROKE MY 6 WIN STREAK AND IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GREEDY AND USED THE BOW AT THE HIGHEST HEAT I COULD BUT STILL... HE'S SO MUCH HARDER TO FIGHT THAN HE WAS BEFORE AND HIS BLOODSTONE (SKULLSTONE?) REGEN IS HELLA UNFAIR IMHO

Anyway after I got crucified and sent home, I bought the Dionysus poster because I love him and his new boons

That new bed is killer

I've been playing this game since before Asphodel even existed and before they added most of the weapons and I'm very late game but I have to say, this is probably my favorite update even if I miss some aesthetic things like the old god(ess) icons and stuff like that. This is one of my top 5 videogames ever so keep killing it Supergiant. There is so much I haven't seen and this was after just one run, so I can't wait to see more!

Anyway sorry I tried to make this funny and hope some people like it. 😘✌

[thiswasinevitableid]

#1 or #13 for indruck? sfw or nsfw, dealer's choice :)

I went with 13 and NSFW: “we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine”

The concert was a bust, Duck is learning that, at the ripe old age of 24, his body can no longer stand up to a mosh-pit, and Juno had to cut out early, taking the car. Which is fine, he can take BART home.

Except there was a fucking game tonight and everyone and their goddamn uncle is packed onto the train. He dips and shoves his way in, spots the sole empty seat towards the back and makes it there before it’s taken. He sighs, turning to sit, only for a black clad figure to slip in behind him.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

The man looks up, startled, and Duck sees he has earbuds in and was staring at his phone when he sat down. 

“Excuse me?”

“That was my seat.”

“Clearly not, since I’m sitting in it.”

“I was about toFUCK!” The train jolts and he loses his balance, landing in the seat-stealers lap.

“Agh, hey!”

“Fuckin’ busted ass infrastructure.” God it feels nice to be off his feet. Fuck it, he’s staying here.

“Are, ah, you planning to get up any time soon?” The man is trying to push him off, so Duck puts all his weight into his lap.

“Nope, gonna stay right here because it’s my fuckin seat.”

“It is not! It is a public train, no one has claim to a seat!”

“There’s rules!”

“It was empty so I sat down. I have been up on my feet since four in the morning, for goodness sake, I just wanted to sit.”

“Join the fuckin club.” 

“Get. off” He grunts, continues failing to move Duck, “agh, why are you so heavy?”

“Hey!”

“Look, normally I enjoy having a bear in my lap, but not when you’re cutting off circulation in my thighs.”

“I’ll take my own weight again if you stop pushin me.”

“Fine.” The man crosses his arms, slumps back in the seat. Duck adjusts so he’s no longer just dead weight. 

“You’re really going to sit on me the whole ride?”

“Yep.”

The man grumbles something rude, shoves his earbud back in and stares angrily at his phone. Duck pulls his phone out, but keeps glancing at his new chair. The man’s hair is dyed silver, with black patches that suggest he did it himself. His ears are pierced, his glasses are dark red, there’s a weird orange crystal around his neck, and his jacket is covered in patches. Duck knows his type; some willowly gay trying to hard to seem edgy. He’s probably on his way to the suburbs on the other side of the tunnel. And he’s gotta ride in his lap for a fucking half hour.

He snorts in bitter amusement and turns on a video. About ten minutes later, he realizes he’s not watching alone. 

“Don’t you got your own phone?” He turns, finds the stranger’s head cocked in interest, still engrossed in his screen.

“Hey’ he snaps his fingers in front of his glasses, “I asked why the fuck you’re looking over my shoulder.”

“Because our positions mean your screen is right in my sight whenever I look up.” He glares, then adds, “although now I’m mostly just watching for fun. Who knew plants could be so interesting?”

Duck almost offers to share, then decides he’s not getting seat-stealer ear-gunk on his headphones. He turns back to his phone with another annoyed grunt. And promptly flicks on the closed captions in case the stranger wants to read them.

Twenty minutes into the ride his butt is falling asleep, so he shifts in the stranger’s lap. The man hisses, bumping an arm into his side to still him. 

“Stop moving.”

“I’m just--oh” he registers the unmistakable feeling of a denim-trapped cock bumping his ass.

“Jesus, man.” He giggles at how ridiculous it is; he spent half last week trying to get various guys into this position with him, and now some dipshit on a train’s done it by accident.

“I’m, I’m sorry” it’s still a hissing whisper, “it’s vibrations from the train plus friction, I didn’t mean for it to happen, so for goodness sake stay still.”

“Why? Ain’t my fault you got a hair-trigger down there.”

“You'd be singing a different song if our positions were reversed.” The voice is creeping up an octave.

A wicked thought enters his head, “Who say’s I ain’t in the same boat now?”

“Because I can see you, you jerk.”

“Eh, I ain’t all that big. Thick, but nothin’ to write home about, not to mention these jeans are kinda loose. So I could be getting wound up as we speak and you might not spot it.”

“Talking about your dick is not helping the situation.” The man is staring him down now, hunger flitting around beneath mortification on his face. 

He escalates the game, wiggles his ass slightly, “Might wanna rethink those tight jeans next time.”

“If, if nnnh!” the man stifles a moan against Duck’s neck, then giggles “if this is how you flirt, I think I might know an issue with your approach.”

“Naw, this ain’t how I flirt.” He turns, exaggerates his drawl, “if I were flirtin, I’d ask if a tall drink of water like you was in the mood for some bear huntin. Tell you I liked your style, liked the thought of you under me in bed,” he reaches his hand up, runs his fingertips along the man’s cheekbones, and from so close he sees an excited, playful glint in the eyes behind the glasses, “liked how that face is cut-diamond gorgeous.”

The glint disappears, “Please don’t tease. Not about that, anyway.”

“I ain’t.” The sincerity sparks between them without warning as he splays his fingers on a cool cheek to gingerly cup it.

“That, uh, that is, uh, I’d say all that if we we’re flirtin’.” He turns back around, flustered and wrong-footed by his own damn feelings. He wants the other man to start the game again. He wants to say he’s sorry, ask if they can start over. He wants someone, anyone, to make the decision about what to do next for him. 

The stranger obliges him, wiry arms slipping around his middle as breath tickles his neck. 

“Since we’re playing what ifs, were I flirting with you, I might say that the shirt you are wearing is very flattering.” He hesitates, and Duck realizes that in spite of being around him, his arms aren’t actually touching Duck. They’re waiting, patiently, for a sign to continue. 

Duck takes the bony wrists, drawing the arms close, and chuckles, “you did say you liked my type.”

“I did. Or, ah, I do.’ One hand pets Duck’s thigh. Keeping an eye out for onlookers, he guides the other stealthily under his jacket and shirt, shivering as cold fingers tease his skin.

“Well, uh, how do I measure up, ahehe, hey, no, was tryin to show off this bit.” He guides the hand currently petting his belly up to the noticeable muscle near his pecs.

“I know, and it is very nice” A purr in his ear now, “but I like this bit just as much.” His other hand rubs circles on Ducks belly through his clothes, “it’s all such a pleasing shape.” 

A kiss on his neck makes him sigh, and he fights to get the upper hand again, to not just melt, to make this a game again because the game feels safe.

“Seems like your dick’s calmed down some.”

“Yes, thank you for holding sti-AH” another moan in his shoulder, another high laugh as he jerks his hips without warning, “you dick.”

“Pretty sure that’s your dick.” Duck grins at him, enjoying the fact he’s still holding him, savoring how he can nuzzle his cheek even as he whispers, “sure as hell’d like to make it mine, though.”

“Is that so? I’d like to see you try.” The man practically snarls, lust dripping from every word. 

He doesn’t get to answer, drowned out by the voice announcing his stop. 

“Shit, that’s me, gotta, uh, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Getting off the train?” The man points at the opening doors, “this is my stop too.”

They make their way off and onto the platform. It would be easy to lose each other in the crowds, slip away and pretend nothing ever happened. Yet Duck keeps his pace slow and, when they do get separated, he finds his new friend has chosen the exit turn-style with the longest line, conveniently allowing Duck to catch up with him. 

When they reach the street, night air chilling with fog, Duck decides to be reckless. 

“How close is your place?”

“Six blocks that way.”

“Mine’s four this way.” He holds out his hand. The stranger takes it, grinning, and they’re off, stopping only when crosswalk and Saturday night traffic demands it.

“Almost thereah!” Duck jumps a little when, as they’re stuck waiting, the other man steps directly behind him, kneading his ass. 

“MmM, apologies, this has been tempting me ever since you sat down.”

“You were rubbin off on it, ain’t that enough?”

“That was on accident. This” he squeezes harder “is on purpose.” 

“C’mon.” Duck growls, dragging them across the intersection and to the door of his apartment. They’re stone cold sober but take the stairs like drunks, fumbling and mis-stepping as they laugh and grab at each other. 

Duck slams the door shut and shoves the taller man against it, making him stumble and bring them both to the floor. He kisses him hard, biting his lip and pulling silver hair while bony fingers dig into his back and ass. Their tongues tease together and he gets a hint of metal, pulls back.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Instant compliance as the other man reveals his pierced tongue through panting lips. 

“Damn, gonna have some fun with that later.”

“Why, why wait?”

“Because” he tugs a fistful of hair, making him whine, “you’re gonna get that nice cock out and get real hard so I can ride you.”

“Yes, ohyesyes.” He’s frantically undoing his pants as Duck stands and strips his own off, tossing them and his boxers into the laundry. 

“Stay.” He rifles through his tiny nightstand, finds two condoms and his lube, returns and barks, “legs out in front of you. 

Lean legs still half-trapped in jeans slide forward, red canvas sneakers scuffing the floor. 

“Now” Duck straddles him, tearing open a condom as he does, “you keep that dick nice and hard while I get ready. Then I’m, fuck, gonna use it like a toy.” He pushes the first finger deeper, moaning, grits his teeth trying to get the second in as the silver-haired man slowly strokes himself, licking his lips as he stares at Duck’s hardening cock.

“C’mon, fuck, there we go” he breathes deep, gets three fingers in and flexes them.

“Don’t, nnnn, rush on my account, I’m enjoying the show.” He runs his free hand up Duck’s body, purring appreciatively.

“Cute how you think you’re the one settin’ the pace.” He pulls his fingers out, grabs the second condom and rolls it down that perfectly average but nonetheless mouthwatering cock, “fuck, yeah, yeah,” he sinks down the first few inches and the other man’s head thunks back, hands flying to gratefully cup and paw his ass. 

“Oh goodness, ohyes, you, your ass is amazing.”

“Think so? Then how about you, nnfuck, thank me for the pleasure of fuckin it.” He sinks down nearly to the base, a high gasp coming from his partner when he does. Based on their exchange on the train, he’s expecting the man to tease, or maybe snark at him. 

What he gets is a desperate, blissed out expression and, “thank you, thankyouohgodthankyou” as his hips buck wildly, making Duck grunt with each thrust.

“There we, fuck, there we go sugar, now you got the idea, you be good and fuck me like youFUCK, mean it, maybe I’ll even cum on you.”

A whimper as the thrusts quicken, Duck bouncing as best he can with the angle and speed. He dips forward, kisses him messily, then switches to tender pecks up and down as face until laughter joins the moans. 

The he grabs the other man’s hair and yanks hard enough to pull some of it out, making him sob with pleasure and pump madly up into him, delivering two retaliatory smacks to Duck’s ass.

“Oh fuck yeah” Duck grins, “you like it rough, don’t you sugar?”

“Yes, god yes, AHnnnn” Duck bites his neck this time, chuckling when he hears his feet kicking against the wood floor.

“Good, I like it too.” He murmurs, kissing the new bruise before biting down on it a second time. 

“AHGOD, god, please, I’m, I’m close, I want to come, please sweetheart, please-”

“Duck.”

“W-what?” 

“My name, fuck, that’s my name.”

“Ohhhhh” the man nods, understanding, then tightens his hold on him, “Duck, please, you feel so good, so amazing, please let me cum.”

“Alright sugar, since I’m feeling, fuck, so fuckin generous, you can cum in my ass.”

Two more thrusts and a high, breathy cry signal the taller man doing just that, his whole body shaking under Duck. He’s fighting to stay upright, panting as he looks to Duck for direction. Duck grabs his left hand from his hip and places it on his dick, guides it swiftly up and down.

“Mnnff, yeah, like that, like that sugar, fuck that feels good.” 

A pleased whimper as a narrow nose and metal glasses frames presses into his neck, the man clinging to him with his other hand. 

“You like that? Like bein’ good for somethin?”

“Yes, yes, want to be good, want to be good for you.”

A pang of affection and he kisses his cheek even as he growls, “you wanna see just what you’re good for.”

A nod, and so he cups the back of the man’s head, shifting it so he’s gazing down as his cock. 

Duck snarls “That’s what you’re fuckin, fuck, good for, and goddamn you do it well, fuck, fuck, ain’t been this fuckin hard in months, fuck, shit.” He comes, dropping the cool hand as spend dribbles down their joined fingers. 

Then he slumps forward, hoping for a few seconds to catch his breath before the man up and leaves. But all he does is loop his arms around him, breathe shaky as he nuzzles and kisses Duck’s hair. So Duck takes his time, let’s his breathing recover, enjoys the feeling of fine hair under his fingers and heartbeat next to his own. 

“I, ah, I don’t wish to bother you, but could I have a tissue? I have, ah, eh, well-”

Duck sits up and immediately giggles; the man has cum across the left lens of his glasses.

“Shit, sorry about that. Here, I can get ‘em clean.”

A shy smile as the glasses are handed off, and he’s face to face with deep brown eyes, still glazed with contentment.

“Be right back.” He kisses him once. His search for a clean cloth, however, leaves him vulnerable. 

“OWFUCK, jesus Taco!” An enraged ball of blonde fur savages his ankle and his friend sits up, alarmed.

“Do you need help?”

“Naw, ow, he’s just pissed that we made a racket and woke him up.”

“Oh dear, that was very rude.” The man holds out his hand and, to Duck’s surprise, gets a headbump and a “mrrp” instead of a brush off. 

“My, aren’t you soft and lovely. You said his name was Taco?” He keeps scritching the cat’s head, smiling, as he looks at Duck.

“Yeah. And, uh, speakin of names, I, uh, I never got yours.” The admission is at once thrilling and shameful.

“Indrid.”

“It’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you, Indrid.” He holds out the now clean glasses and Indrid slips them on, before tilting his head and sitting up on his knees to look at Duck’s thigh.

“I assume this tattoo is because of your name?”

“Eeesh, yeah. Long story short, ex of mine got tattoo equipment and offered me a hundred bucks if I let him practice one on me. I needed the cash, but I was a dingdong and let him choose the design. Thought he was real funny.”

“Please tell me he did not go on to become a professional” Indrid wrinkles his nose at the cartoonish image.

“Nope. Got bored with it. Like he did, uh, most things.”

“Ah.” Indrid nods with perfect understanding and sympathy, “you know, it would take a little design work, but I could correct this into something knew, something you might like.”

“Not unless you got a-”

“License? Almost. I’m finishing up my apprenticeship at Cobra over in the city. I might even be able to swing you a, ah, shall we say, friends and family discount.”

“Shit, really?”

“Of course. Why would I offer if I didn’t mean it?” He looks up, so sweet and genuine that Duck wants to fall to the floor and cuddle him up. 

“Do you, uh, do you want to shower? With me? We’re both kinda sticky.”

“Very well.” Indrid stands, following him to the bathroom, “though you’re warned, I like it hot.”

Duck turns on the water, kisses him playfully on the nose, “I gathered.”

Indrid laughs, pulls him into a kiss, smiling all the while. 

They swap tattoo stories as they shower, Indrid explaining the designs on his arms and complimenting the realistic pine tree on Duck’s arm. By the time they’re dried and bundled in various tray sweatpants and shirts, Indrid is asking him about what he does.

“Golden Gate Park. My, that must be a master gardeners dream.”

“It’s pretty damn cool, even if I’m still just low level help.”

“You must” Indrid yawns, leaning against him in bed, “you must tell me all about it.”

“In the mornin’, sugar.” Duck lays down next to him, grabbing his thickest blanket to compensate for the shitty heat in the building. 

“I don’t” another yawn “I don’t wish to impose, I can call a ride or something, or just walk home.”

“Do you wanna stay?” Duck asks softly.

“Yes. Very much.” Indrid nods, smiles sleepily when Duck gently removes his glasses and sets them on the nightstand. 

“Then stay. Please. Fuck, Indrid, I know we got off on a bad foot but I’m so fuckin glad you stole my seat. I wanna get to know you so bad.”

“Was my seat, but agreed.” Indrid smirks as he cuddles closer. 

“That’s good enough for me, sugar. Sleep tight.”

He switches off the light and curls up in the arms of the happiest accident he’s ever had.

[aw-eather]

Heather Watches SG1: s2ep22 Out of Mind and s3ep01 Into the Fire

Ah two of my all time favourites. Maybe even THE favourites. They’re just SO good. Also my shipper heart cannot take it but we love torturing ourselves here so lets go. 

I’m gonna try and do enough that y’all get at least one post a day and scheduel them to go up periodically :) 

This go very long so I hope it posts properly. 

Ooooh mysterious tank

I mean honestly this was suspicious from the get go

Don’t trust this guy

JACK

YOU’RE ALL WET JACK

Is he? 

Are they dead tho? Are you sure? Cause that sounds fake... 

You see, the year is now.............. 2077

CREDITS

Teal’c looks all big and scary but really he’s a precious boy

End credits

TERYL ROTHERY

honestly that device looks very Star Trek

Missed opportunity to make a 69 joke

Girl he has been asleep for 79 years he probably remembers shit all 

Good boy, answer nothing. Don‘t trust the random men that woke you up

thats not sarcasm, I don’t trust them either 

“the rest of the facility” riiiiiight

Wizard of Oz reference

38 teams is a lot of teams

MMMMMMMM sounds FAKE

DON’T TRUST HIM JACK

General whats his face just dropped something on the ground

STARGATE

Jack is handsome

Me: I’m gay

Jack O’Neill: Yeah sure ya bethcha 

Are ya just? What makes ya think Jack can help? he’s been asleep for 79 years

Tok’ra mind probe

Benefical alliance my ass, what did they ever really do for the Tau’ri??

Except promise to send a ship when they “had one available”

So thinking of Sam right now would be BAD Jack. 

NOX

I LOVE THE NOX

WHAT CUTIES

look at them, they’re so sweet

Jack stop thinking and showing them shit 

Could be a great weapon but the Nox are peaceful and beautiful and I love them

LITTLE GREY ALIENS WITH THE LITTLE GREY BUTTS

Thats a big ship

This is the only “look at all the shit we’ve managed to do so far” episode that is actually any good

Why don’t we meet the Furlings?

I wanna meet them 

They sound fluffy

I love the baby asgards look at ‘em so cuuuuute

Kathrine! You’re great girly

“Touch it” *Jack touches it without knowing what it does, could die*

Jack waving his gun to touch the molecules seems like a bad idea

Yeah let him rest stop bullying him

purple goop

stop the pruple goop Jack

purple goop is never a good thing

Oh look... ANOTHER tank

DANNY BOY

Please cover your nipples

I don’t wanna see your man nipples

A third tank... funny that

SSSSAAAAAAMMMMMM

Funny how none of them are ACTUALLY dead

LIES WE’VE JUST SEEM THEM

Get these people some clothes

leaving her wrapped in a blanket is rude

Blanket looks like a mat tbh

BRATAC

SKARRA

Daniels hair is so bad in this episode I’m not sorry its HORRIBLE 

He has a SHIELD Jack

FUCK YEAH JACK THROW THAT KNIFE YAS

HATHOR

I love Hathor hosts

She’s great honestly

Sam and janet and the girls kicking ass is the best

RIP Hathor 

No seriously Daniel’s hair is BAD

Teal’c

JANET

ah yes, unusual 

Teal’c is so passionate and caring about his friends I love him so much

THREE FUCKING WEEKS?!?!?!?!

janet is such an angel you can’t convince me otherwise

Are they tho? 

Yeah he would but Teal’c with do anything for his F A M I L Y

Well he will leave

Aw Teal’c I love you with my entire heart

That zoom in on the patch is nice 

YES JACK STOP THE GOOP

Nice kick! 

BYE TEAL’C I LOVE YOU

AWW THIS EXCHANGE IS SO NICE 

AW THE SALUTE BABE NO THAT HURTS MY HEART ITS SO SWEET

#SorryNotSorry but Jack looks so fucking good in this outfit 

Like... he looks sooooo good

God I am questioning my sexuality left right and centre today

But seriously can he dress like that more often? 

Go get ya girl, Jack!

Oh look... not the SGC 

WHO WOULD HAVE EVER GUESSED

Serpant and Horus guards! :O

STOP THINKING BABE

THEY GONNA FIND YOOOOOU

SAAAAAAAAAM

BEAT THIS GUYS ASS AND SAVE. YOUR. GIRL

O U C H THAT WOULD FUCKING HURT

SHOULDER TOUCHING 

SHOULDER RUBBING

SHOULDER TOUCHING 

SHE IS TOUCHING HIM

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD FOLLOWED BY A MEMORY OF HIM NEARLY DYING 

SHE’S STILL HOLDING HIS SHOULDER

STARING AT HER NAKED BACK

TRYING NOT TO STARE AT HER NAKED BACK

HE IS SO IN TROUBLE 

HE FANCIES HER SO MUCH 

I MEAN SAME

she also looks good but like he looks better???

GRABBING

WALL HOLDING

HANDS TOUCHING SHOULDERS

PINKY CURLED IN SO HE DOESN’T TOUCH BARE SKIN

COULD HAVE MOVED BUT ISN’T MOVING 

THEY WANNA HOLD EACH OTHER

DEAR GOD

sorry I’ll stop with the caps

I just physically cannot with those two

i love them so much

and i hate how they were treatd

Hathor you idiot, 

SUANNE

LOL Jack 

Servants in the royal court? Yeah sounds great

Rude Jack

lol the pat on the shoulder Jack you dick

uuuuuuhhhhh didn’t notice before how HOT IT IS WHEN HATHOR RUNS THE IDC REMOTE UNDER SAMS CHIN AND THE LOOK SAM GIVES HER I-

ACK SNAKE

I hate them the same way Jack does tbh

they make me squirm

Give it to Daniel. Why is Daniel the only one that never has a snake in him... wait... 

sorry but I just wanna talk with the national captions institute... 

Alright! On to Into the Fire! 

DAVIS

MAJOR DAVIS I LOVE YOU

MY FAVOURITE

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH EVEN IF THINGS DO FALL TO SHIT WHENEVER YOU’RE THERE

Dramatic zooooom on Hathors name for E M P H A S I S 

CREDITS

I love how Hammond is like EVERYONE is saving SG1

How DARE you, Daivs. They are THE team, rude!

I love that everyone steps forward because everyone loves SG1 but also everyone knows you don’t leave anyone else behind. 

I love Hammond

MARTIN WOOD :O

He is a great director

Ew snake

Jack still looks fucking good 

Jack now is not the time for sass 

Give it to Daniel. No one cares

Sam is like “I’m not scared bitch bring it”

Of course it wants Jack

Poor Jack

Why is it always him?? 

You tried, buddy

Sam’s hand on his CHEST PLEASE JUST GET MARRIED

TEAL’C 

BRATAC

Sam literally hates watching Jack in any pain 

Poor Jack

Hathor fuck off

What exactly was the point of ripping his shirt? It makes no difference to the snake going in the back of HIS HEAD

Ew

oh gross

i hate it

I hate it so much

ugh the chills I currently have

Suanne Baun is super pretty though

YAS TOK’RA LADY

WE RESPECT AND LOVE YOU

Another Wizard of Oz reference 

Sorry Daniel looks so bad

its the hair honestly, the little dorky fringe

Sam’s hair, on the other hand *chefs kiss*

Yeah but he’ll be fine, Tok’ra lady saved the day <3 

YAS GIRL

NOOO Poor Tok’ra lady

Sorry fam, I forgot her name lol 

Sam pulling that jacket on, Sam in a jacket thats a little too big for her , Sam in a white shirt.. Sam

Yeah they are Teal’c. 

Dead and false and dead... or is he???

Hand dance

Energy barrier is in the way, boys continue to shoot

oh no shooting towers of death are never a good sign

And of course Daniel got hurt so we have to baby him for the rest of the fucking episode jfc just sit him down somewhere and Sam and the rest of the teams can do the hard work... again

Cool Tok’ra tunnels are Cool

Lol Daniel being sassy (oh its just a deep, bleeding gash, it’ll be fine) lol sorry he is funny when he’s sassy

I’m sick of your army already, Hathor

OOOOH a barrier 

Hammond is awaiting 

Why do they give them such short time periods to do shit? Like they know things go wrong literally ALL THE TIME 

Like “hi you have 24 hours to go into a SECURE, GOA’ULD FACILITY, RETRIEVE THREE SG MEMBERS AND GET OUT. PIECE.OF.CAKE”

6 hours is a long time to sit on your hands and do nothing tho. Ah well might as well go and save the boyfriend

The president can suck a rotten potatoe

Davis, you can’t really argue with him, he outranks you about 4 times

Sam’s sleeves are too long and baggy and its SO CUTE

GO SAM

SAVE THE DAY

BUT SAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND FIRST 

Hammond visiting Chulak 

because he’s an angel baby

and the best dad ever to his four kids; Major Dr Science Space Baby, Sassy Grumpy Fruit Loop and Sam Carter Loving Space Baby, Warrior Gentle Giant Space Baby and Annoying, Doesn’t know shit, Archaeologist Space Baby.

Yas Teal’c, spill that tea

I will join you, bb

Hammond in a toga will also join you cause he a babe

and he needs your help cause Davis said No. 

HAMMOND OF TEXAS IS MY FAVOURITE THING EVER I LOVE IT 

Sam: I’m gonna go and shut this shield down

Sam: but not until I have tried to save my Future Husband. 

Poor Tok’ra lady

Hand on chest again

Fucking Hathor man

Go away boo, you’re ruining the moment 

Stop hurting Sam

YAS JACK FUCK YES I LOVE THAT

I love his response to it too

Like the shock and fear

This hug goes on a long time

I know he’s cold or whatever but like... 

and I know he’s in shock and so is she a bit

he’s doing it for her as much as him

but they’re STILL hugging

They literally never do this again

Its so sweet because after this its just... nothing? Like POV happens and then Upgrade and Divide and Conquer and they go ah fuck we can’t hug anymore so all we get is platonic shoulder holding and using shoulders as pillows. The closes we get to a hug is Death Knell and emotional trauma Threads. I want a REAL hug

And he holds her arms for ages and helps her up

Wow they’re so fucking in love this hurts

“Found ‘em” Jack stop so cute

C4! Who’d have thought it

Ah shit they’re surrounded 

He still looks good

They BOTH look good 

They make a great couple 

Nope, not really but its what ya got so you’re gonna have to deal with it

This general guy is a bit of a dick

Thats right Sam, don’t listen. Good job, Danny boy.

Only 1? Thats not a lot of time

Get out there, Jack! Buy that time

Gun Bum! (if you know Sanctuary, you’ll get it)

He’s really not doing a great job of pretending to be a Goa’uld

Its really not impossible 

ex-goddess lol 

“She’s Gone. She is no more.” I’m honestly shocked people didn’t shoot him more often 

I love him tho

Thank god, thats good timing

Hammond is IN. HIS. ELEMENT 

There is no way she heard hiom say now but she still knew. I love them. I love how well they know each other and they’ve only known each other a little over two years

Time to KICK SOME ASS

JAFFA YAS

ooh coming in from behind, sneaky

YEEHAW

OH HAMMOND YOU PRECIOUS BABY

Sam going straight to Jack and it looks like she goes to put her arm around him. 

I hate them ffs

Bra’tac and Human fuck me thats so cute

Sam’s smile when they see Teal’c and Hammond is Gorgeous

and Hammond patting her on the back! stop! I love Space Dad and his idiot Space babies. 

Final Thoughts:

Seriously guys this is my favourite Final and First eps of a season. 

100% one of my favourite two parters, if not my all time favourite two parter

Great direction, good story, excellent bad guys, good acting, just enough suspense with out being too drawn out, something for everyone, comes of the back of a fun as fuck episode (1969), Hammond has a big part, Davis is there, lots of cute Sam/Jack and of course, Daniel’s Elf Hair. 

Also the Tok’ra are actually useful in this one which is SHOCKING 

Lemme know your thoghts friends, I’m excited to hear them! 

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

oohohoho you just opened the deepest can of worms on the planet

-mod dave, who wrote a fucking ten mile essay

first off, addressing the second anon, no theyre all humans. h., half humans at least. cause yall know me i fucking love my humanstuck aus off my ASS

(that would be funny as hell though. a troll from space walking into a camp on earth going “I AM THE SON OF ONE OF YOUR EARTH GODS. BITCH” like... holy shit)

so first things first their parents. im gonna lay this out, the beta kids and trolls are all greek (EXCEPT sollux hes roman cause his parent has no greek equivalent), and all the alpha kids and trolls are those gods roman equivalents (,,EXCEPT dirk cause he kinda balances sollux being roman out). i havent figured out how thatd happen like 16+ times yet cause in the percy jackson books theres only ever been one instance of two siblings of the same godly descent being greek and roman respectively in HISTORY so like.. i guess th. i guess thats just not a problem in this au

anyway this gets really long so im gonna talk about the beta kids and trolls cause i havent elaborated on the alphas at all ((peep the tags if you wanna see their parents though))

johns the son of zeus, rose is the daughter of athena, dave is the son of apollo, and jade is the daughter of demeter. they were all raised in their respective states, all had to come to new york for various reasons. jades been there the longest, shes been there 9 years and shes been on a couple quests. her biggest accomplishment so far is how she protected the camp from this big vicious angry hellhound that got past the barrier. naturally the girls fluent in Dog Training, so she steps up and instead of trying to kill this thing, she reaches out and tames it as fast as she can. it ends up actually working, and ever since that day she, her cabin, and the camp have a whole bodyguard sleeping right outside the demeter cabin! hes her steed in battle and hes a Very Good Boy. and his name is becquerel

johns the newest kid at camp, he has no idea who he is or why the fuck his school got attacked or why in the hell those anemoi thuellai were so fixated on him or HOW in the hell he absorbed the lightning one threw at him and ended up fine,,, hes just a big mess right now. a big enough mess that when he got claimed by literally zeus, no one else was around, he shrugged it off as some basic magical happening, and he stayed in the hermes cabin far longer than he should have cause no one! fucking knew he got claimed! by zeus of all people! dumbass. he ends up figuring it out though. like an off-hand mention about how this “weird lightning thing appeared above my head a couple weeks ago, haha weird right?” once he figures it out he realizes “hey i might be able to fly” so he sneaks off into the woods to try it. he succeeds fairly quickly but god almighty everyones face the one day the dude just yote himself off a small cliff without warning,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

dave and rose are really tight, theyve been there roughly the same time length, and since their cabins are across from each other they just bother each other all the time. daves the resident Doctor even though he really doesnt look it cause hes got the apollo powers. apollo is the medicine god. so if you wound your stupid ass in battle daves in the ER room patching you up with his glowy hands. rose on the other hand is a very good strategist. shes one of the only athena kids ever recorded to actually have a power - telekinesis. she has no idea how she developed it, she thinks its from birth, but it freaks her out. shes training it though.

so the beta trolls, are also all human(ish). aradias hades kid. but i pulled a pjo trope on her based on one of my favorite characters (im not saying for spoilers, but if you recognize the situation, You Probably Know Who Its Based Off) and aradia died. her mom, the handmaid, had been pulling some Shady Ass Shit and ended up getting herself killed, but aradia tried saving her and ended up going down with her.

so handmaid gets sentenced to the fields of punishment in the underworld, and aradia gets sentenced to elysium, heroes paradise. shes like “no i want my mom to be okay” so they take that away from aradia and they put them both in the fields of asphodel, the neverending grey space for Not So Good But Not So Bad people. her mom becomes a shade (shadow spirit, no human resemblance), as all people do, but aradia. doesnt? and she gets dunked in the fucking river lethe and if you dont know what that does it erases your memory. so she just. comes out of the river like “hello? wgat tae fukc goin on??” but she still remembers one thing. there was an “a” in her name.

tavros is the son of hermes, hes just kinda taken on the role of backup counselor for when the actual cabin counselor is out. hes in a wheelchair, but he also has prosthetic legs for when he needs to actually stand up and fight. hes really good at it too. also catch him in winged converse cause he Owns Those and Uses Them To His Advantage. hes trying his best to keep focused on the camp, cause aradia was his childhood friend, he misses her a whole lot, she never got to camp in the first place. and to his knowledge, shes still dead.

sollux is a janus kid. thats a problem cause janus is roman, and this is a greek camp. he grew up with dave, he showed up with dave, hes been at camp as long as dave. but hes been unclaimed since he showed up so he thinks hes unwanted by whatever parent he has. he knows hes a demigod, he got through the camp barriers, so what the fuck is wrong with him? he also feels shitty cause hes shit at the greek lessons, he cant read a lick of it which literally every demigod without exception should be able to do, he cant name any gods- well, he can, but.. he gets their names mixed up. why does he keep calling poseidon “neptune”? and he has a much, much different way of natural fighting than other kids. they slice, he jabs. he wasnt taught to jab. 

karkat is an aphrodite kid with vitiligo, and to make matters worse, hes ace and on the aro spectrum. to make matters WORSE, the aphrodite kids are kinda notorious for being really shallow, really materialistic, and really mean. karkats been dubbed the “runt” of the cabin, he gets made fun of for his spots to the point where he uses make up and magic to conceal them. worst of all? hes the kid of the goddess of love, for fucks sake. being reminded that “loveless people shouldnt be able to stay in this cabin, mom must have made a mistake claiming you” is kind of.. a blow to the self esteem. long story short he hates aphrodite for claiming him, and would have rather stayed in the hermes cabin. but he eventually goes on this big quest thats vague as fuck right now but Its The Main Plot, he ends up proving to himself that hes worth something and that his siblings are wrong, and my FAVORITE LINE IN THE WHOLE THING i came up with is HIS when he deals a final blow to some big monster: “REMEMBER MY FACE THE NEXT TIME YOU REINCARNATE. MY NAME IS KARKAT VANTAS, I’M THE SON OF APHRODITE, AND LOOKS CAN KILL.”

nepeta isnt anywhere near developed as others are unfortunately, shes a daughter of ares and shes really really good at hand to hand combat. shes small but she leads groups of people in things ranging from camp volleyball games to actual literal wars. shes a tough little shit

kanaya isnt really developed either, i have yet to figure out most of her powers too actually, shes a daughter of iris, the rainbow goddess though. (blatant reference to both kanayas vampirism and. h. her. sh. es ga. gay) ONE THING SHE CAN DO THOUGH is iris message at will without water or drachmas so really shes just everyones go to cell phone and its fucking hilarious cause people just come into the cabin like “KANAYA I NEED TO TALK TO [X]” and shes like “You Better Fucking Pay Me I Am Not Your Personal Cell Phone”

terezi is the daughter of nemesis and she has this really peculiar power she hasnt really gotten the hang of yet. she has synesthesia, so while she cant see she can smell and taste the colors of her surroundings and its really helpful. sometimes though she gets messages from her mom. they dont even come as dreams half the time, they come as almost a different plane altogether. tez has the power to literally tip the scales, pretty much. and when she gets like that, she can see. shes not on earth though, shit on earth stops when shes like that. shes just kinda In Her Own Head, i guess? and in her head she holds the two scales in her hands. she is the arms of the scale. and depending on which one she lifts up, she can literally alter the fate of the battle or happening thats going on By Herself. once she chooses she just whooshes back to real life though and nothing has changed. the only downside? it takes a LOT of energy and cant be exploited for little things. her one thing on her bucket list is to tap into said powers while getting something from a vending machine so like three things will fall out but it hasnt happened yet and shes upset

vriskas a daughter of tyche, the luck goddess, come the fuck on you knew i was gonna, i havent really elaborated on her either and im upset about that. but hey now you get a break from all those fucking paragraphs

equius is a hephaestus kid, and he kinda stays in the background. hes a range fighter, he spends a lot of time in the forge, and even though its been a project looooong since forgotten, hes been excavating the tunnels under cabin nine for years. by himself. he has no idea where they lead, but dammit hes gonna find out where. he has no idea about a certain bunker in the woods though...

gamzees just there for a fucking laugh tbh hes a son of dionysus and i love that cause hes the god of wine and parties and insanity. usually gamzees just zoning out somewhere hes Not supposed to be, and hes not affected by the maenads FUCKED UP BULLSHIT that goes down the forest sometimes. also hes so fucking scared of tavroses wing shoes he tried them on once while he was high and JESUS CHRIST

eridan is the son of kymopoleia, a SUPER obscure goddess. lets just say dont fuck with eridan cause his mom is the goddess of violent sea storms,

and naturally, feferi is the daughter of poseidon. cause who the FUCK else would she be the daughter of. WHO. NAME ONE GOD

OH AND JUST CAUSE I FORGOT CALLIE AND CALIBORN ARE SATYRS IN THIS AU. CALLIE HAS PAN PIPES. and caliborn still has a gun

[justanalto]

#parting shot

my shoulders are feeling a little heavy as I write this, especially since it’s midnight on wednesday, and there’s literally less than 24 hours until the end of aos as a whole. but I was tagged by the wonderful @besidemethewholedamntime​ for the parting shot challenge, thank you! :)

With this tag game, I want to know the answers to these five (5) questions and then tag 5 or more mutuals. Wasn’t tagged but want to join? Join in ! Everyone is an essential part of this fandom! Name from @ agent.of.shield_ on Instagram ( @agents-of-fangirling ) who had a great idea to post a picture of yourself with a drink (or just a drink) and tag it #partingshot as a finale goodbye to the show (which I also am going to post tomorrow on IG).

Where were you in life when you first started to watch AoS?

I was 16 and in my junior year of high school; I was struggling to get over a guy that I’d thought I was in love with and chilling right through pre-calc. As one does. One of my best friends then (still is now, shout-out, honestly!) had introduced me to Marvel via Captain America: the Winter Soldier the year before. I was writing fanfiction like the world was going to end, I’d just made my first online friend...things were going about as well as they could for someone panicking about college way too early. AoS was in my peripheral (it had to be, I felt like, if you were writing Avengers fanfic), but it wasn’t something I was actively focused on. My dad was watching it on TV, I think, when I came downstairs to chill with him; he’s the kind of man who’ll just pick up on things from time to time, Marvel being one of those things. 

The episode was 2x05, A Hen In the Wolf House. The scene was “We have a mole, ladies and gentlemen.” Adrianne Palicki walked into the lab and my gay ass was done for. (And I didn’t even know it yet.)

Where are you now?

Six years later and a lot of revelations later, I’ve just graduated from uni with degrees in English and Communication with a certificate in film studies! I will admit, AoS dropped off my radar a little bit from seasons 4-6 because I was applying and going to uni; while I managed to either keep on track or live-watch it all, they’re not the freshest seasons in my mind because I’d back burnered it so hard. But now I’m back full-force, unemployed and anxious about this pandemic and wondering where the light at the end of the tunnel is.

I’ve made a couple more close online friends since that first one -- we’ve actually met a couple of times, and I put deciding to comment on their fanfiction that fateful night one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’ve been lucky to meet so many other people through this fandom as well; they’ve taught me about everything from dumplings to how to be a better writer. Some of them have even helped me grow as a person -- I look at the world and my relationships with people differently now because of them, and I can honestly say I’m thankful for it. 

I’m also a lot more comfortable in my sexuality now, which was a long journey that I wish had hurt less in some places but I’m glad I took. That’s another thing I’m thankful this fandom and show gave me -- in the early days of my coming out, when I was weathering it all, I was able to channel my energies into producing a work that mirrored my fears and uncertainties about my future rather than outwardly expressing it to an audience that had nothing to offer me but indifference.

What character development arc (or storyline in general) did you love the most?

That’s a hard one to think about, honestly, especially because my brain dropped out hard through a few seasons, but I’d probably have to say I enjoyed watching Daisy grow and change throughout the seasons. Every season, I’d think she was finally at her most badass and at her best, but by the end of the season, so much would’ve happened and she’d wind up so much stronger than she was at the beginning of it all. Her growth and change is something I feel like I can relate to on a very general level, if not that it means that we all have shit to go through that causes us to evolve. 

(Other than that, I am absolutely a sucker for Bobbi and Hunter’s arc, short as it was. Goddamned cancelled spin-off.)

What will you miss the most?

I’m going to miss the new episodes every week, honestly. At the end of every episode, everyone I know is abuzz about what just happened, trading theories and yelling about iconic lines/scenes they’d just witnessed and worrying about what’s going to happen next week. It means they’ll all be taking bets on just how bad the lighting is going to be next week, whether plot line A will ever be resolved or it’ll just be left in the wind, or fics upon fics coming out furthering character studies more deeply than I could ever hope to.

I’m also going to miss the iconic recaps that are the frickle frackles, live-tweeting the episodes along with the cast, watching the cast post accompanying Instagram photos to each episode. And while I hope this doesn’t end, I’m going to miss my friends swooping into DMs with me yelling about a random fic plot that they’ve just come up with either on the fly or while watching an episode, stimulated by the new canon creation. 

Favourite quote?

I’m absolutely awful with quotes, dammit. But one scene that I keep coming back to (it’s also conveniently located in 2x05, LOL) is Hunter to Raina: “Tiny violin’s playing, love. No one’s listening” because it’s just so snarky and Hunter. I’m also a really big fan of when he takes out the weapons when they infiltrate the summit, and Bobbi says “I love you” while May says “I don’t hate you quite as much”. Or Daisy’s “The one that looks like New Hampshire with legs...that’s D, right?”

(My favorite scene, even though no one asked, is absolutely the Spy’s Goodbye. I’ve never seen such cinematic magic. I cry every time. Honorable mention goes to “Get ready for a large file transfer.” “How large?” *filing cabinet crashes out of window*) 

tagging some friends I haven’t seen tagged yet to join me: @aleksandrachaev @nazezdha321 @brokenbookaddict @untying @faenavi and any aos fan that hasn’t been tagged yet -- this is for you and your parting shots! 

[platypanthewriter]

Strangest 3

Head trauma leading to mature discussions of personhood

“Hey. You comin’ tonight?” Billy leaned next to Steve’s locker, dripping from the shower, his towel in his hand.

“Where?” Steve frowned over, then turned away to breathe in the stale smell of gym clothes, closing his eyes as the flourescent lights shone on Billy’s shoulders, abs, and smirk.

“Carol’s.” He leaned in, warm breath heating Steve’s ear, and his voice dropped to barely audible. “Beat me at darts and I’ll blow you in the laundry room.”

“What?” Steve felt a grin forming, wondering whether Carol thought Billy was coming alone, and whether Tommy knew, but shook it off. “Why the hell’d you tell me your dad murdered your mom, Hargrove,” he hissed back. “Hopper’s pissed. He wasted his whole weekend tracking her down.”

Billy took a slow breath, his whole body pulling back and tensing like he’d iced over. Steve kept towelling his hair, jerking his head away as Billy slammed both lockers with a punch that left a smear of blood across the vents. The coach’s voice shouted over, but Billy was already stalking out into the hall. Half the basketball team ran after him. Their laughter at his wet naked ass failed to alert poor Mrs. Durand coming around a corner--she yelped, holding a pile of folders in front of her face. Billy knocked them aside to scream into her eyes, and shoved her into the wall.

“That dude’s hilarious,” Tommy beamed, and Steve stalked back in to ask the coach to see about Mrs. Durand.

A sharp knuckle in the back awoke Steve from blue-lit tunnels to the soft scratching of chalk at the front of the class.

“You aren’t breathing,” Nancy whispered. “Steve.”

He clapped his sweatshirt sleeve over his mouth in case of croaking noises, and focused on the page numbers copied out on the chalkboard. They blurred, and Nancy smacked the back of his head.

“Steve,” she hissed, just as the bell rung, startling his lungs into action.

“I’m breathing now,” he smiled, ducking his head to sort out his bag, and she grabbed his shoulder.

“Library. Now.”

He considered, then nodded. Nancy having a whole litter of kittens over his inattention in class sounded nearly as jarring against the Upside Down as breathing against Billy Hargrove’s jacket.

She drug him by the elbow anyway, stopping by the drinking fountain. “Do you need some water?”

“Nah,” he rubbed his face, finding that imagining himself as a fainting, corseted heroine didn’t have much entertainment value. Maybe if he told Billy later.

Her eyes narrowed, and she drug him on through the library doors, shoving him at a table. “What’s going on,” she whispered. “You were better. Mike keeps answering calls and then asking whether you showed up to class, and then whether you stayed through class, and then whether I saw you after class, but I thought you looked better!”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes, wondering whether Dustin, Will, or Max were checking up on him. He dropped his bag on the table, dropping into a chair. “No, I am--I’ve been sleeping better.” She brought the full weight of extremely concerned eyebrows to bear, and he quailed. “Last night was--long, I mean, I don’t know, what do you want me to say, Nancy?”

“You weren’t asleep, just now,” her nose wrinkled in concentration, and his stressed brain informed him she was still unfairly attractive. “What’s going on, Steve?”

“That doesn’t happen as much, I’m really fine--”

“I know I haven’t really been around--”

“Oh, no, okay, Nance. There were monsters, this isn’t about--us. My house is way out there and it’s quiet and dark and lonely, and the snow looks like--” He frowned at a window. Like the floaters in the air in the tunnels.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish the wind would kick up,” she inspected a hangnail, “--I’ve been using my curtains, even during the day, it’s silly.”

He snorted, jerking the zipper on his bag back and forth. “Anyway, the little turds keep coming out to keep me company ‘cause they think they’re gonna find me dead on the floor because--”

She waited, raising her eyebrows, and he dropped his forehead to the table and groaned loudly enough for the librarian to smack a book loudly on her desk and clear her throat. “Steve.”

“I can’t believe they haven’t told you,” he muttered.

“Steve,” she said again, and the cool table started to feel good against his hot face. “What didn’t they tell me. I can get it out of Mike.”

“I like girls,” he informed her anxiously. “I do, it’s not--that, I mean, I’d still date you, it wasn’t you--”

Nancy jerked her head back, face squidged. “Ew, Steve, whatever this is, why does my little brother know about it? Gross.”

That was enough to get his head off the table. “Nasty, Nance,” he echoed her grimace. “Not like that.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” she raised her eyebrows.

He took a deep breath, glad to see horrifying confessions were enough of a distraction for his lungs to engage. “I’m, uh. I’m kinda, y’know...seeing Billy Hargrove.”

She snorted. “Psyche! Seriously, Steve.”

He clenched his teeth, glancing around, then whispered, “I am kissing Billy Hargrove. Look,” he leaned in, running his fingers along his jaw. “Stubble burn.”

“Oh my god,” she stared at him.

“I know." He let his head fall back, sliding down in his seat.

“Steve. Oh my god.”

After a long silence, he lifted his head to look at her, pulling his bag closer as a barrier between them.

She’d gone a little unfocused, her expression fixed. “No wonder they’re--wait, no, that can’t be what Mike knows. He--what happened, Steve. Oh my god.”

He whined into the side of his bag. “They left him in the trunk of my car! I took him back to my house, he just...he comes around now. Like when you feed raccoons.” He looked up to see her shaking her head, smile stiff.

“That’s pretty accurate, Steve, what if you don’t feed him one day and he eats you?” She leaned in, face serious, as though the biggest danger with Billy was a shortage of Violent Stranger Kibble.

“I don’t think--” He paused as she reached over and took his hand.

“Grace Olive Wiley was one of the most famous venomous snake handlers of all time,” she began, and he blinked. “She claimed they were harmless if you trained them the right way, but she was bitten while posing with one for a picture. It took her thirty seconds to pry it off her finger. Steve.”

“He’s not venomous,” he resisted the urge to pull her hand closer, “--I mean, like...I know he’s terrible, but he hasn’t…” He let his face fall against his bag again. “Did Mike tell you anything about Billy’s dad? Max’ stepdad?”

“No?” She pulled her hand back, leaning in, eager as ever for new information, and he grinned at the familiarity.

“Max says--” he stopped, biting his lips while he considered, “--he beats the shit out of him. Like, all the time. I think he broke a bottle or something over his head? He showed up covered in broken glass and cooking sherry.” She blinked slowly. “And I know cooking sherry, because--you know Tammy Ives, she was my first kiss, we’d been drinking cooking sherry.”

Nancy appeared to be biting back an explosion of laughter.

“Billy doesn’t drink cooking sherry, it’s salty, and anyway, he smelled more like--”

“I believe you, Sherlock,” she said around her fingers, her shoulders shaking with giggles. “I have never drunk cooking sherry, you’re the expert witness--but Steve, you can’t just--he beat the shit out of you, you can’t just--”

“I knoooow,” he moaned into his bag. “He’s convinced I got Barb pregnant, killed her with a nailbat, and...buried her in the woods? I think?”

Her mouth hung open.

“I know! But he knows I’m lying about what I used the nailbat for--”

“He’s seen your bloody nailbat?” she asked weakly. “Why…” Steve waited, but she just shook her head, leaning her face in her hands.

“It’s a colossal mess,” he sighed. “I think he thinks I’m scarier than he is?”

She gripped her notebook. “And that’s...impressive?”

“He thinks Hopper helped me cover it up,” he rubbed his face. “I don’t know what to tell him, the truth is--”

“Out,” she agreed. “Truth is out. Why does he…” She scrunched her nose up at him, and he shrugged, waiting. “If he thinks you’re a murderer, why does he want to--” it was her turn to glance around, whispering, “Why does he want to kiss you?!”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “Why do I want to kiss him?”

She pressed her hands together under her chin, pursing her lips as though there was an answer in her mental card catalog that would make everything make sense.

“I think we’re both like...half gay, Nancy,” he whispered, holding his hands around his mouth to keep the soundwaves from informing half the library.

“But he’s terrible,” she whispered back. “Have you ever wanted to kiss Jonathan?”

“No,” he shook his head, wide-eyed. “No, I swear, Nancy, I absolutely do not wanna kiss your boyfriend--”

“I’m not worried about it,” she rolled her eyes. “Jonathan’s not like that--” she frowned at him. “It’s bisexual, by the way, not--not half gay.”

“It is?” he asked, voice thready. “People are...that?”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m trying to figure out what Mike knows now, because if he knew you were kissing Billy Hargrove I don’t think he’d be worried.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.

“Actually I’m wondering, now, are you bisexual? Have you ever been attracted to another man? Because it’s Billy, Steve. Hargrove. What you might be is crazy.”

“That’s probably true too,” he hugged his bag to his chest, “--he--he helps, though. He’s just--I can’t think about--things--when Billy’s there stinking like--like cigarettes and cooking sherry.”

“Buy a dog,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows. “Come over. Y’know what, I’ve been stealing my mom’s horrible vanilla candles, my room smells like the bathroom in a furniture store, it's very...distracting.”

“Those were rank, where does she even--”

“You could ask somebody normal out. You’re still popular.”

“I can’t date anybody that knows, though,” he stared back, and she swallowed, lowering her eyes, “...and anybody else is gonna ask about the…” Nancy waited, and he cleared his throat. “I’m weird now, I barely sleep, I do weird things with--marshmallows--”

“Mike mentioned the marshmallows.” Her mouth quirked. “I...guess that might have been something we thought was weird? I don’t know what weird looks like to everyone else anymore.”

“Probably includes kissing Billy Hargrove,” he snorted into the bag, catching her giggles.

“You could kiss Tommy,” she stuck her tongue out, nose wrinkled, “--I mean, bleah, but think about it, he might try to beat you up but he wouldn’t win.”

“Tommy,” he echoed back, wrinkling his nose.

“He’s awful,” she leaned in convincingly, “--and safer.”

“...I could just watch The Outsiders a few hundred more times,” he muttered into his bag, and she frowned.

“...Dallas Winston, isn’t it. The scary one.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, feeling his neck start to flush. “Shut up. I saw you looking at Rob Lowe’s jawline too--”

“Jawlines,” she whispered. “He does have a nice jawline, doesn’t he. It’s just that Billy Hargrove is attached to the jaw. What does Mike know, though? He didn’t catch you two necking.”

“No!” Steve shuddered. “Just, uh. Billy keeps just...coming over? And then the Goonies showed up--” she blinked, then waved him on, “--and he was there all night? For their sleepover.”

“Oh my god.” She held her hands over her mouth. “What’d you do?”

“I told him to go upstairs, and they watched Lord of the Rings--”

“Eugh.” She stuck her tongue out. “I was so relieved Lucas got sick of the singing goblins.”

“Will might know,” he whispered back. “I drug Billy back inside by the hand--” one eyebrow raised at him, and he glared back at it, “--and Dustin and Mike were just doing that thing little cats and birds do, y’know, trying to scare Billy--” he leaned his head in his arms.

She blinked. “...puffing up? They were doing a threat display? I can see it,” she cocked her head, grinning, “--did Mike have his arms folded?”

“I don’t know, just Will was staring at our hands, the others didn’t notice.”

“Do you want him to keep it a secret? I can try to talk to him.” She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, and Steve sighed over her freckles, feeling another flutter of relief that his sexuality wouldn’t be entirely Billy-Hargrove-directed in future.

“...I mean.” He bit his lips, the urge to protect his band of goblins throwing his brain back to barricading a bus. His breath shuddered, and he rubbed his face. “If I was dating Jonathan--” they both screwed up their faces, “--and I don’t want to, but if I was, then...I’d probably have to tell them. But if Dustin gets in Billy’s face about kissing me, Billy might,” he paused, tongue caught in a whorl of possibilities. “Grab him. Walk in front of a Mack truck. Jesus, I don’t know.”

“Steve,” she reached over for his hands again. “You don't need him around. Come over after school. I’ll give you some candles. You’re going to get hurt.”

He snorted. “It’s, I mean, it’s not…”

“Steve,” she repeated, eyes narrowing. “He could have killed you.”

“I know, I know.” He let his head drop onto his backpack.

“I don’t want to have to shoot him.” She squeezed his hands, and Steve started giggling again.

“Shit, Nancy,” he grinned up, “--what happened to our lives.”

The candles were, as advertised, rank, and Nancy smuggled them to him through the bathroom window as he shielded his face below. “She keeps accusing Dustin of taking them because she knows I hate ‘em,” she stage-whispered down.

“You should spray some of her perfume on him, next time,” Steve whisper-shouted back, and she buried her cackles in her forearm, before leaning out to throw him the bag. When he got home, he realized he didn’t have anything to burn them in that he wasn’t kinda afraid would crack, or catch on fire.

With the promise of singing mice unfulfilled--Rescuers and Secret of NIMH had played through without him reaching more than a light doze, and even his secret weapon, a copy of Cinderella from the mail-in video club, had had no lasting effect--Steve took a hot shower. Heat sometimes worked, though by the time he was drowsy the hot water heater was choking out its last burst of relaxation. The chill startled him into opening his eyes, rubbing his face, and scooting to turn off the water before yawning into a slump against the still-warm tiles. Just as his eyes started to drift closed again, he blinked alert to a crash outside--glass, it sounded like, against the house.

He went alert like an herbivore, body still, ears straining, before catching a tuneless yell. “Billy,” he groaned, rubbing his face again. “I was almost asleep, Billy Hargrove.” At the sound of a second crash, he flapped a hand out along the wall and yanked a towel down on his head. The air of his bedroom was frigid compared to the bathroom steam, and he stopped, shaking his head, then looped the towel up with his elbow and scrubbed it at his hair. He sighed. He could hear the beat of a car radio, and muffled shouting. The window was reluctant to open, but Steve was vaguely glad he hadn’t hurried to the front door, because Billy Hargrove had a six-pack labeled ‘Bud Lite’ on his hood, and he was hucking beer bottles at the door. “Billy!” he yelled.

Billy staggered against his car, fumbling with what looked like a rag in the top of the bottle. It flamed up.

“Fucking Christ,” Steve groaned, letting his head drop against the sill. “Hargrove!”

Billy swung to look around in a circle, dropped the flaming beer bottle (it went out), fell against his own car, and slid down to sit against the tire, wiping his nose against his wrist. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he yelled, fumbling to pick up the bottle. “Fuck you! King! King...Harrington!” It’d rolled against his foot well within reach, but using the fingers provided at the end of his arms seemed to be presenting a challenge.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning,” Steve shouted, then shut the window, shivering. He huddled himself in the towel. Another bottle crashed against the side of the house as he stumbled over the office chair on the way to the stairs, and Billy yelled some more, and then Steve opened the door. He slammed it shut again against another flying bottle.

He began composing an explanation to Nancy in his head. It was sleep deprivation. When I see him, my body knows if there were predators around he’d have been eaten, I think.

The doorknob rattled. “Lemme in, Harrington!” Another impact shook the door as the phone started ringing. Steve’s hair dripped freezing cold water into his ear, so he began drying it, wandering over toward the phone.

“Heard a call over the radio about your place,” Hopper’s voice sounded too awake for the hour. Steve stepped around the corner, yanking the cord so it whipped into the front room, in hopes Hopper wouldn’t be able to hear the yelling at the door.

“Sorry?” Steve tried. “Everything’s fine.” Everything was, was the thing, the adrenaline had cleared his head, his lungs were working like a well-tended racecar, and Billy was unlikely to set anything on fire with a Molotov cocktail made of Bud Lite.

“Your neighbour Ms. Williams saw flames,” Hopper waited, and Steve grimaced.

“I’ll have to apologize for waking her up.”

“Heard crashing, too.”

Handily the door was thick. Steve cupped his hand around the phone and his mouth, trying to keep the handset from picking up Billy’s screams. “Everything’s fine here, but if it’s going to get quieter, I really need to go,” he tried, gritting his teeth as it went briefly quiet outside, before there was another crash.

“Kid,” Hopper sighed. “They’re sending a car by.”

“Shit,” Steve said into the handset, hung up, stared at it in horror, and ran to the door. Maybe Dustin could relay apologies through Eleven. He yanked it open. “Billy, for chrissake--”

Billy squinted at him.

“Beer doesn’t burn, asshole,” Steve told him. “Though since you haven’t figured that out, maybe I shouldn’t tell you, you might try again. What the hell are you doing?!”

“Naked,” Billy snorted. The bottle he’d dropped rolled against his foot, and he very slowly lifted his foot to let it roll under his car. “You...you’re.”

“Yeah, man, you didn’t exactly call ahead.”

Billy tried to push up off the car and stand, staggered, and caught himself against the side mirror. “I stole Carol’s tequila,” he stage-whispered, snickering, and Steve groaned as he tucked the towel around his waist.

“I’m glad you didn’t set that on fire. Somebody called the sheriff, you moron, are you here to…fight me?”

“No,” Billy shook his head, and grabbed at the door of his car as his knees bent. “No. Jus’ hate you. Fuckhead. Harrington. You--you got that bat behind the door. Bastard.”

“I don’t, but--” Steve watched Billy trying to get the lighter back into his jacket. “How’d you make it here alive.” Steve started to step outside, and Billy held up a hand.

“Glass,” Billy walked around his car with a steadying hand on the hood to reach in and turn off the engine. “...’s broken. Glass.”

“Yeah, gee, Billy,” Steve yawned, leaning in the doorway. “How’d that get there. It sure is a mystery. If you try and drive you’re gonna kill somebody.”

“Yeah,” Billy laughed, letting himself fall against the hood. “I never wear a seatbelt. Want me gone?” He grinned over, slowly leaning back so his jacket fell open. “Kiss me an’ tell me to go off the road, Herring. Harrington.” He started giggling. “Just hold my head--back--and tip the tequila in, you. You fuck.”

“Billy,” Steve hissed. “The police are coming, get in here.”

“...glass everywhere.” Billy wove his way over, stopping to rub his face and stare at the step up to Steve’s door. “King Harrington.”

“Get in here,” Steve waited, letting his head fall sideways to press against the edge of the door. He let go as Billy reached the door, scrabbled at it, and it swung shut. Steve yanked it open again just as Billy fell against it, half-catching him as his head slammed into the knob. “...jesus, Billy, you alive?”

“Shit,” Billy curled in on himself, and Steve hauled him inside by his denim collar. “Fuck, jesus, Harrington--”

“There were headlights--somebody called the police,” Steve said, batting Billy’s hands away, trying to see whether the blow had drawn blood. “I just--just needed to get you inside--”

“That for throwing bottles?” Billy kept grabbing at Steve’s hands, trying to stop him from checking the point of impact with the doorknob. “It’s fine, I’m sorry, Harrington, shit--” he held his arms up between them, trembling. “I get it, you fucking asshole, you fucking--”

“You fell into the door, dipshit,” Steve yelled back.

Billy started giggling into the floor. “Barefoot,” he whispered. “Barefoot King Harrington.”

“I tried to catch your drunk ass!” Steve shoved him further across the floor into the kitchen, and Billy slapped his hands on the floor to brake. “I didn’t slam your head into the knob, Hargrove.” He let himself slide to the floor next to the denim menace, face against the linoleum. Billy’s breath smelled like tequila.

“Soooo sorry I threw bottles at your pretty house,” Billy whispered back, lowering his arms to wipe blood away from his right eye. “Where’s the bat, you asshole. Shithead.”

“Why the hell were you throwing bottles at my house, dipshit?” Steve reached over to thumb another trickle of blood off Billy’s cheek.

Billy flinched back and grabbed his hand, twining their fingers. “...Tommy showed up.”

Steve rolled to his back, sniggering, staring at the ceiling. “So was it a party, or like a mutual belt-notching--”

“’Gives a shit. Come on, Harrington.” Billy kissed Steve’s captive hand. His lips were warm and soft, and Steve groaned, rubbing his face with the hand Billy wasn’t imitating fellatio on. His tongue was incredibly distracting, supple and hot and wet, and Steve could feel his dick starting to prop up his towel.

“Hargrove.” Steve rolled to face him again, partially to hide his tent. “C’mon. What’s going on?”

“You suck,” Billy grinned back, dissolving into giggles again. “I could suck.”

“Are you high,” Steve sighed. “Don’t answer that. Come on, budd-uh, Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy let himself get hauled to his feet, stumbling toward the couch.

Steve pulled Billy’s hand from where it’d slid up his thigh under the towel. “Come on, you’re bleeding. Lie down.” Billy tried to pull him down, patting clumsily at Steve’s naked chest and shoulders. “No, come on, just lie back, I’ll be right back--”

When Steve ran off upstairs to grab the first aid kit, Billy yelled more slurred insults and apologies after him, and Steve pressed his face into his pillow for a long second and whined. He glared down at his crotch. Think less about his tongue and more about the blood running down his face, he thought at his dick, then sighed. “Also remember he just tried to set my house on fire with beer and lost a fight with my doorknob.” His dick was mildly discouraged by these truths. Before running back downstairs--Billy had started singing his name as the lyrics to ‘My Sharona’, so it didn’t seem urgent-- he kicked his wet towel off. After a moment of thought, he grabbed a second sweatshirt for Billy. “Steve Har-ring-ton~” warbled from below.

When he got back downstairs, Billy was on the floor by the TV pulling videocassettes off the shelves, the discards forming a wall around him. “Haunted car,” he muttered, shoulders hunching as Steve walked back in. “What’s this say?”

“God, you’re so drunk. Come on, lie down, you’re shaking.” Steve dropped to lean against him, sliding an arm around Billy’s tight shoulders. He tugged the videotape out of Billy’s hand, leaning in to lick his ear when Billy wouldn’t let go.

Billy went still, staring back.

“Christine? It’s a stupid movie,” Steve warned, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll love the car--”

Billy drug him closer by the front of his sweatshirt. Steve blinked, swallowing, but tilted his head into the open-mouthed kisses Billy pressed across his face. Piled videos fell as Steve swung his leg over Billy’s lap, sliding his hand up into Billy’s hair on the side he wasn’t bleeding.

“You’re still bleeding, babe,” he ran his fingers through Billy’s curls, pulling him close to breathe against his collar. “Come up on the couch. I’ll clean you up.”

“Not your ‘babe’,” Billy leaned in for another kiss, “--you still pretending I’m Lady Nancy?”

“There’s a position as Queen open,” Steve offered, anticipating the elbow-in-the-gut-shove combo. He snickered, watching Billy wobble to his feet and stalk off to the couch. “I dunno, you’re practically twins and all. Not really used to kissing somebody I wouldn’t date.”

“Just--just attacked your castle, Majesty--” Billy leaned his face into the back of the couch, huffing a laugh, and Steve wandered over. He picked up the aid kit. “I can. I c’n leave. Park somewhere. Sleep it off. Now say sorry.”

“Noooope, what the hell, you're such an asshole.” Steve scooted close, but let Billy see him put his hand up to inspect the damage.

Billy shuddered at his touch, but leaned into it, letting his eyes slide closed. “...says you.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re great, we should definitely trade letter sweaters and share milkshakes,” Steve snorted, running his thumb over Billy’s cheek. “Just a second. Blood’s getting all in your hair, I’m gonna--” He pressed a wad of gauze to it, guiding Billy to lie down with his head in Steve’s lap.

“Wha’s happening.” Billy cleared his throat, sliding his hand under his head to brush most of his mullet out from under his head.

“I think it’s mostly a bruise,” Steve pulled his attention away from the length of Billy’s eyelashes and surveyed him with the knowledge he, Jonathan, and Nancy had gained by frantically cramming first aid books over winter break. “I’ll keep pressure on it until it stops bleeding.”

“Fuck do you care, you’re such a prick,” Billy muttered into his sweatpant leg.

“You’re in my lap, dipshit, what are you even talking about,” Steve ignored the phone ringing again.

Billy tried to bite his thigh through his jeans. “Harrington, you--fucking fucker.”

“Are you actually mad at me? Because you rammed your head into my door, not me--” Steve ran his fingers through the unbloodied sections of Billy’s hair, feeling him scoot closer. “I can’t even tell, stop grinning! You tried to set my house on fire, and I’m like ‘What happened, Carol run out of wine coolers?’”

“Fuck you,” Billy choked, punching his leg again. Drunk as he was, it didn’t particularly hurt. “She said you were coming.”

“That’s weird as hell--hey, hey hey hey--” Steve pressed more gauze over where it had shifted, ignoring the phone ringing again. Billy muttered something, turning his head against Steve’s sweatshirt, and Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Are you--are you chanting ‘I hate you’?! After you come over here, you--I’m not forgetting about the fire--which you suck at--”

“Fuck you, I do, I hate you,” Billy whispered thickly, trying to bat Steve’s arm away before resting his own arm across it to hide his face. “So much, fuck you, just--just die, you fucking--bitch bastard--”

“Shit! Shit, don’t--” Steve bit his lips together. If I say ‘don’t cry,’ he’ll turn this whole house into a mushroom cloud. He let his fingers slide around the back of Billy’s skull, pulling him in close, and the soft shaking and sniffles got louder until Billy punched the back of the couch a few times to drown them out. “Hey,” Steve tried again, when Billy’s breath was evening out, and he kinda wanted him to come up to blow his nose. “What happened. Did your dad--”

“She’s not dead,” Billy punched his leg again. “It was all--it was true. He told me…” Beginning to feel bruised, Steve felt his eyes narrow, considering just dumping Billy in Hopper’s yard with a bow around his upper torso. “She’s--she’s not dead, I thought he--he said she left. Kept telling dumbshit Billy she left. I thought no way she’d fucking just--just leave me there, she wouldn’t--she’s my mom--”

“...oh, oh shit, oh fuck,” Steve breathed, feeling his eyes go wide.

“I thought--he kept--thought he killed her,” Billy punched the back of the couch again, without much leverage since his knees were drawn up. “I’m so fucking dumb. I just…”

“She left him and you,” Steve said, aloud, like a genius, and Billy’s shoulders started shaking again.

“Sh-shut your fucking face, Steve,” he hissed. “She fucking... walked away. I keep thinking she didn’t know, right? Maybe he wasn’t like that before. Then I fucking came along.” Billy’s fingers slid under Steve’s shirt, but he was grabbing fistfuls of fabric. “This fucking idiot kid, fucking faggot piece of shit Billy Hargrove, she just--didn’t--she wanted a kid but not--”

“Jesus,” Steve leaned to look at the clock, and added another wad of gauze where red was seeping through.

“Just that--that fucking--he never hits Max-- she took a good look at this stupid little cunt and left town--”

“You’re not,” Steve said, clenching his jaw. “Shut up, no, that’s not--jesus, Billy--”

“Then she knew, fuckhead,” Billy smacked the couch again, “--she knew he’d--she knew what he’d--but it was me so she didn’t give a shit, she probably just--couldn’t wait ‘til I caught the bus--counting the minutes, is he fucking gone yet? Never have to see his face again--”

“No, I just mean, yeah, you’re Billy Hargrove--”

“Shut the fuck up, King Harrington--” Billy tried to shove away, punching his arm, and Steve caught him around the shoulders and braced them both against the floor with his legs.

“No! No, Billy, listen, c’mon, you are a--just--a complete piece of shit, but you’re a person, you don’t--nobody deserves that. I just meant--I’m sorry, jesus--” Billy was half sliding onto the floor, but he submitted to being hauled mostly against Steve’s shoulder, his forearm covering his wet laughter. “He didn’t just start that--bullshit because you’re you, she didn’t do--do whatever shit because you’re just--I mean, you’re garbage, but you’re a human being--”

Billy’s giggles sounded wet. “Yeah, right, genius,” he sniffled. “--I fucking know I’m trash, asshole--”

“But you’re a person, you were a little kid, right, she wouldn’t--”

“I’m a garbage person,” Billy laughed harder. “Garbage Pail Kid. They shoulda just taken me to the pound.”

Steve honestly couldn’t tell whether he was arguing or not, and suspected Billy didn’t know either. Just as he opened his mouth to point out that 100% of humans had been pissed off at children and most had managed not to belt them across the face, there was the beep of a siren pulse in the drive. Steve grabbed Billy’s hand and made him hold his own gauze, scooting out to run to the door. “Stay quiet,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’ll get rid of them, but they can’t see you.” Billy snorted loud enough to carry to the door, and Steve rolled his eyes as he unlocked it, squinting out into the flashlight of one of the deputies.

“We got a noise complaint,” the man called, slowly crunching across the snow-covered glass. “Mind turning on the porch light?”

“We just have the motion detectors,” Steve blocked the door, smiling. “Sorry. Drunk friend showed up. He’s passed out, noise is over.”

“Lot of broken glass out here. Your friend wouldn’t happen to be Billy Hargrove, would he?” Steve heard a soft “Fuck,” from the living room, and braced himself in the door. “We got a call saying he was drunk and disorderly. Is that blood on your face, Mr. Harrington?”

“It’s really late,” Steve felt his smile going stiff. “I’ve got school tomorrow. Everything’s fine. Can I go back to bed now?”

“I’d feel more comfortable if I had a look around,” the deputy aimed the flashlight into the room behind Steve, and Steve sent a prayer up to God or aliens that Billy wouldn’t be looming behind him, blood dripping from his hair, his eyes gleaming in the light.

“Uh, no,” Steve’s lungs, finally showing up for work, were making up the time, and he gripped the frame of the door on both sides to keep his hands from shaking. Hopper is gonna shoot me in both feet, he thought, but he was also fairly sure he didn’t want to turn Billy in for assault on his house with a weaponized six pack of Bud Lite, and have his front room turn into the Tet Offensive when a hapless sheriff’s deputy tried to arrest a crying, drunken Billy Hargrove. “It won’t happen again. Thank you for coming out, but I’d really like to get to sleep.”

After a couple more refusals--Steve stopped fearing Hopper’s disapproval, he found, when he had to shout at the man to get him to leave--he finally closed the door again on the receding taillights of the police cruiser, and returned to kneel on the floor next to the couch.

“You just got in a fight with a sheriff’s deputy.” Billy’s mouth was quirked. “Why--?”

“You ever hit Max?” Steve asked over him.

“Not...really.” Billy frowned, and winced.

“Have you ever intentionally hurt Max, Hargrove, it’s not a complicated question.” Steve rubbed his face, leaning his back against the couch and staring at Billy’s ring of movies.

“...I won’t,” Billy’s breathing had gone shallow, “--I won’t, Harrington, fuck, don't--”

The phone rang again.

“Because you know who hits kids is your fuckhead dad,” Steve ignored it, “--and you went straight for Lucas--”

“Fuck you, Harrington, I’m not my dad, shut up,” Billy flailed, and Steve grabbed his wrists, pressing the gauze back down. It wasn’t difficult. Billy’s skin was pale and sweaty, and Steve took a look at his fixed grin and reddened eyes and sighed, burying his head in the seat cushion.

The phone rang again, and Steve let Billy’s wrists go, stomped over, and unplugged it, before returning to frown at the gauze, and unroll some fresh. “Even if you’re pissed at me. Don’t take a swing at a person. Come…” he snorted. “Chuck bottles at my house, I guess.”

“What,” Billy sounded hoarse.

“Come on.”

“I’m not my dad, you fuck. I’m not gonna throw bottles at your house.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, slowly turning to look at the front door.

“Fuck you,” Billy curled up tighter.

“Come on, babe-buddy. If you get mad, I’ll--we can play a half-court game, or something. Come get me.”

“Fuck it out of me,” Billy snorted, grinning at him, and Steve took a deep breath, trying not to imagine grabbing Billy earlier that day, and slamming him back into the lockers before he stomped out into the hallway. Grabbing him by the hair and kissing him until he went warm and pliable.

“Jesus, Hargrove.” He let his head thump Billy’s shoulder, feeling him laugh.

“Should find a girlfriend who doesn’t care if I suck you off behind the gym,” Billy whispered in his ear. “Carol thinks it’s hot.”

Steve stared at him. “You told her? That--that you want to--”

“Fuck no. I asked about you and Tommy, she said she could take us all.”

“Tommy’d beat your--nah, you could take him.” Steve ran his knuckles over Billy’s abs, sliding up under the jacket where Billy’s ribs were damp and cold with blood loss.

“I could take him.” Billy grinned, his teeth bloody.

“I wouldn’t date somebody else and fuck you.” Steve wrinkled his nose, and Billy reached out for a handful of his sweatshirt again, pulling him in to smell blood and tequila.

“It’s just dumpsters back there,” Billy whispered against his mouth. “Just garbage.”

“Christ, babe,” Steve kissed back, his stomach clenching. He pulled back, and Billy’s arm slammed into his hands, knocking them away.

“Fuck you, Ha--”

Steve slapped his hand over Billy’s mouth again, trying to string words together. “You’re not gonna hurt anybody, right?”

The couch squeaked as Billy punched his wrist again, growling, his eyes tearing up, but Steve held his head. “Shake your head or nod. Yeah. Okay.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed.

“Just wait a second, listen. You’ll come to me if you’re feeling like--” he risked letting go to wave at the door, and Billy closed his eyes. “Billy. Come on. Even if I’m who you’re mad at.”

Billy nodded shortly, swallowing.

“Okay,” Steve took a deep breath. “Then you’re not a garbage asshole. You’re gonna try.” He kept his hand over Billy’s loud snort. “Right? You’re good.”

Billy smacked his hand away. “I’m good.”

“You’ll get better. You won’t be fucking--trash, like your dad.”

“You don’t fucking think that.” Billy’s voice was hoarse. “Shut the fuck up, you’d fucking beat my face in--”

“I’m serious, you suck because you’re an asshole, nobody’s born--”

“You don’t fucking have to tell me this shit,” Billy pulled away, pressing the gauze to his head so he could sit up. “I’ll...I’ll fucking be a good boy, you won’t have to hit me in the face with the nailbat. You coulda just.” He laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Just what,” Steve leaned his head against Billy’s.

“Fuck you,” Billy sighed, and Steve echoed it.

“I’m just saying. You can’t have been born a shitheel.”

“Try me,” Billy snorted.

“Look, if any kid’s that much of an annoying little shit I’d’ve murdered one by now,” Steve whispered into Billy’s hair, prompting a snicker. “I’ve saved them from--the--and that little bastard Mike still looks at me like I should be fired from life. If I was gonna beat on a kid, their heads would look like cranberry salad. ”

“What’d you save ‘em from, Steve Harrington,” BIlly slurred, and Steve smacked his own face.

“My point is, if you don’t hit kids, you don’t fucking hit kids.”

Billy blew his nose in Steve’s sweatshirt, and Steve yelped, grabbing a throw pillow and smacking him in the butt with it.

Billy cackled. “...you wanna hit this instead?” He shoved the gauze away, sitting up to turn a slow grin on Steve that had his pants feeling tighter, and a tingle running down his spine. Billy leaned in, sliding his arms around Steve’s neck, and smelling like tequila and aftershave. For once, he didn’t taste like cigarettes. His face was wet and salty, and warm, and smooth-shaven, and Steve lost track of words for a few seconds kissing it. “We could fuck,” Billy whispered into his kisses. “Right now. You can’t even hurt me right now.” He slid off the couch to straddle Steve’s lap, nearly falling off and braining himself further on the coffee table.

Steve grappled him back upright. “What the hell. Shut up, Billy, lie back down--”

“I’ve done it before,” Billy rocked against his lap. His ass was warm and heavy with muscle in his tight jeans, and Steve lost all power of thought. Billy kept whispering against his neck. “I’m feeling no pain, Stevey, I’m so numb.” He bit at Steve’s lips, his breaths coming quick. “I’ll be so good for you, Majesty. S’tight in there, doesn’t get much traffic. Nothing like it.”

“God--” Steve snorted, clapping his mouth shut before the ‘--no, what the fuck, what do you mean you’re numb,’ escaped into the air, pretty certain he needed to actually think about what he said before Billy Hargrove broke his jaw, stomped his drunk ass outside, and drove into a tree. Billy’s hair felt drippingly wet, and he jerked his hand back. “Goddamn, you’re bleeding everywhere. Come on, man, lay back down.”

“You fucking want to,” Billy snarled, grabbing the front of Steve’s pants, and yanking on his zipper.

Steve grabbed his hands. “Fucking hell, Hargrove--”

“Come on, I’m cold, ” Billy kissed him again, trying to jerk his arms out of Steve’s grip, “--c’mon, pretty boy--” He leaned in as much as he could with all their arms between them. “Your hands are warm. S’just your dick in a tight hole, doesn’t make you a fa--”

“Jesus, Hargrove--” Steve kissed him back, licking into Billy’s mouth every time he drew breath to talk. He started tasting blood, a little tang at the edge of his mouth, then sticky down the side of his face, then dripping down his chin. “Billy Hargrove. We gotta stop the bleeding.”

Billy laughed, curling into him, his muscles soft the way they went when Steve grabbed his hair.

Steve shivered, carefully letting go. He’d squeezed handprints into Billy’s forearms. Like he was making out with Sylvester Stallone again, he thought, biting his lips. “Lie down, babe,” he leaned to grab the gauze. “I’ll keep pressure on it, and we can do whatever when you’re not bleeding out from a head wound.”

“Keep calling me cute names,” Billy muttered. “You dumbshit. I’m not your girlfriend. ”

“Nooooo...” Steve stepped to the other end of the couch, not trusting Billy Hargrove’s head in his lap facing his dick. He beckoned him down, layering gauze in his hand. “Sorry. Dickhead.”

Once the bleeding finally had really, truly stopped, Billy scrambled away from his lap, stomping over to the magic circle of videos and tossing Christine.

“You just want me to put it on so you can steal the best seat,” Steve rolled his eyes, and sure enough, once the previews started, his corner spot was taken. He dropped against Billy’s side. Billy’s hair felt crispy with blood as Steve slid an arm around him. “You sure you don’t want a shower?”

Billy shook his head, closing his eyes, and Steve got up to get him some aspirin.

Steve snickered through Christine, grinning when he caught Billy watching him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Billy drained his beer can, and began prying off the tab.

Onscreen, the haunted ‘57 Plymouth was gnashing its hood, and Steve let his head fall against Billy’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

“Harrington.” Billy elbowed him.

“Mmm...” Steve scooted away to lie down, politely ignoring Billy’s weird swallowed choke.

“King Steve,” Billy hissed. “Your Majesty. Get your head out of my lap.”

“Nuh,” Steve rolled his eyes, “--get over it.” He fell into a light doze when Billy didn’t shove him off, waking to fingers prodding his head.

“...movie’s over,” Billy slurred, half-asleep, and still drunk.

“Fix it,” Steve mumbled, shrugging, and turning his head away from the light and sound to bury his face against Billy’s stomach. The denim was uncomfortable, so he burrowed in against the smooth abs, wondered whether they were damp from his breath, or if Billy was still cold-sweating with tension, and kissed them open-mouthed before licking across with the full width of his tongue. Billy shouted “Fuck” a few times in a high wheezy voice, and shoved Steve’s head, scrabbling sideways over the arm of the couch.

“Fucking Harrington Steve fuck,” Billy swayed, panting, his arms folded over his stomach, “--what the hell.”

Steve felt like he hadn’t slept in a year, which made everything funnier. “You’re salty,” he sniggered, half off the couch, and shoved himself back up, his flailing foot thudding against the floor.

“Shut up.” Billy sidled around the couch and clicked rewind, his face lighting with the black and white noise of a disconnected TV.

“Ants,” Steve muttered into the pillows. “How come you can kiss me.”

“Shut it, Harrington,” Billy knelt to frown at the shelf of movies. “What’s this. Alien?”

“S’good,” Steve sighed, rolling on to his back to frown at the ceiling.

Alien did not lend itself to another nap. As soon as the room lit with blue light, Steve could feel the hair on his arms rising. The passages in the ship were white, and shiny, but the mysterious creatures and the blue had him up off the couch, pulling off his bloodied sweatshirt. “I need to go have a look around.” He tossed the shirt, ignoring Billy’s head cock. There was a scrabbling behind him and the TV switched off.

“What are you doing?” Billy followed him into the garage, chugging the last of his can of beer.

“It’s fine, you should stay.” The sound of Billy crushing the can against the unbloodied side of his head brought him back, a bit, and he came over. “...you look like I hit you with the bat.”

“Who cares,” Billy grinned at him.

“Go put that sweatshirt on,” Steve pointed, taking a deep breath of Eau de Drunk Billy and feeling himself smile. “There’s snow, man, c’mon.”

“Yeah, mom.”

It was snowing again, making Steve’s skin prickle at the lightly falling fluff in the dim bluish light, but Billy bumped their shoulders, and Steve leaned in to kiss his face, twining their fingers together.

“What.” Billy pulled away, unzipping the sweatshirt--it had blood on it, Steve realized, Billy’d grabbed the one he'd discarded, not the clean one--and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Steve circled him to zip it up, but Billy frowned, turning away. His lighter was flicking too fast, and Steve dropped the bat, sliding his arms around Billy from behind to zip up the sweatshirt. Billy’s ear was hot against his cheek, and Steve dodged away from his flailed smack, laughing. He swiveled back when Billy started coughing after a drag on his cigarette.

“You okay over there?”

“Lemme alone,” he coughed again, bending to brace himself against his knees. “Just swallowed wrong. Somebody. Somebody hugged me. What. What are you,” he flapped a hand and Steve took it, grinning. “What was that. I’m up now, give my hand back.”

“I’ll hold it.” Breath billowed as Steve grinned back at him.

“We’re outside,” Billy hissed.

“I only have one neighbor,” Steve kicked the handle of the bat back up and grabbed it. “That smells nothing like a tunnel.”

“What?!”

“You smell good,” Steve pulled him close, breathing in his hair.

“Shut up,” Billy snorted. “I fucking don’t, stop lying.”

“You know that’s the sweatshirt you blew your nose in,” Steve bumped his shoulder, and Billy glared, then spat to the side.

They crunched through the snow all the way around the house to the edge of the woods, Billy lighting cigarettes serially partly because they were warm. “What are we even looking for,” he asked again, and Steve shrugged, squeezing his hand.

“Not a damn thing, really, just makes me feel better.”

The small house on the way to Steve’s was entirely lit up. Resonant barking shook the door. Once they’d climbed the steps, Steve pushed Billy behind him, feeling him go stiff again. After a few rounds of thumping, the door opened on a slow-moving woman with a cane, a huge smile, and white curly buns on the sides of her head. She clasped Steve’s pale hand in both her gnarled brown ones, and then pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m fine, Ms. Williams.” He patted her back, waving over her shoulder to one of several pitbulls.

“What on earth,” she whispered, then saw Billy as Steve stepped out of the way. “Good heavens. Is this your boyfriend?” Her eyebrows were nearly at her hairline, and Steve tugged Billy close and clapped a hand over his mouth before he got a reply out.

“This is Billy,” Steve used the hand over Billy’s mouth to make him nod, and Billy stomped his foot.

“Is everything...all right?” She narrowed her eyes at their clasped hands, then Billy’s bloody face. “That’s not fresh?”

“He fell.” Steve was bent over one of the dogs, hands under her ears to flap them gently. “He’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t see anything out there tonight.”

“Bless you.” She squeezed his shoulder, eyes narrowed at Billy, who rolled his shoulders, shrugging his charm on like a cape. “I won’t say a word, you know.”

“A pleasure, ma’am, thanks for worrying about this idiot.” Billy nodded politely to the dogs, and Steve snorted. “Let go of my hand,” Billy hissed, but didn’t pull away. “What are you, some kind of suburbian superhero?” He frowned around while she brought over a cut glass bowl of hard candies masquerading as strawberries.

Steve accepted one, locked eyes with Billy, and slid it quickly in his jean pocket. Rolling his eyes, Billy unwrapped his, popping it in his mouth, ignoring Steve’s urgent headshake. Once they accepted, she sat the plate down to pat the pitbulls on either side of her chair.

“I know about the mountain lions, honey,” Ms. Williams said, and Steve nearly crushed Billy’s hand.

“Uh, what?” Steve forced his lungs to laugh, ignoring Billy’s side-eye.

“Your little friend Dustin came by and asked me to keep an eye on you.” She turned her smile on Billy, patting the closest pitbull. “I had to clean up what was left of Sneezy, and Prancer here’s sister Blitzen, after all.” Billy, who’d just stuck candy in his mouth, choked, coughing. “These are Prancer, Florence Ballard, and Diana Ross. I do wish you’d brought the bodies to me, dear, my darling’s work made me a dab hand at taxidermy.”

Prancer wriggled toward Steve on her stomach, and he reached down to stroke her ears. “I mean, I used a nailbat, ma’am.” He kept his eyes on the dog, hoping Billy didn’t choke to death on horrible hard candies. “There wasn’t much left. Uh.” When he glanced up, Mrs. Williams was patting Florence Ballard, and Billy was mouthing furiously at him.

“He also told me about the bus,” Ms. Williams smiled at Steve’s spluttering, and rocked herself upright again. “Would you like some hot chocolate, honey?”

Steve nodded, crawling down half-under the couch to bury his face in Prancer's belly. She was missing a leg after her run-in with the demodogs.

“Oh, that’s from the lions too,” he heard her telling Billy, who sprang up to follow her into the kitchen. Steve breathed in the smell of clean pitbull fur.

When Steve finally lifted his head, unable to relax while Billy received Dustin’s version of events, he sidled up to listen through the door. I bet he told her I had a sword, and swung in with my merry men, on a vine, he thought, leaning his head into the kitchen.

“More marshmallows, and he likes three spoons of instant coffee in there,” Billy was explaining, leaning against the counter to show off his abs and folded biceps, and smirking at her through his lashes. Steve covered his grin, coughing.

“My,” she glanced up, and Steve couldn’t resist stepping up slowly to slide his arms around Billy’s waist.

As expected, he went tense. “Harrington. I think a shard of this candy just punctured my tongue. ”

“I tried to warn you,” Steve whispered, biting his ear gently. “You remember my hot chocolate recipe.”

Billy pushed his face away, and Ms. Williams beamed between them. “Yeah, Steve, I can make hot chocolate. There’s a mix, it’s not hard,” Billy growled under his breath.

“It’s kinda complicated,” Steve whispered in his ear. “Even Dustin doesn’t get it just right.”

“Wow, I can add water,” Billy snorted. “She didn’t even have any candy canes.”

I don’t need them, I have you, Steve thought, aware his smile was getting goofy. He accepted the chocolate, which was exactly correct, and sighed, squeezing Billy against him.

By the time Mrs. Williams had given Steve another tight hug--“Answer your phone, child,” she chastised, and he hunched his shoulders--and they’d began walking home, it was dawn. The snow still looked like the floaty crap in the tunnels. At least the world isn’t blue. Steve stumbled up the steps, unlocking the door, pushing it open, and sitting in it. He let himself fall back, his legs hanging outside in the snow.

Billy snorted, grabbed his hands, and drug him inside, dropping to lie next to him. “Mountain lions,” he said to the ceiling.

“I guess,” Steve sighed, rubbing his face. “Maybe don’t wake her up again, she’s tough, but I think she thought you beat me to death.”

“She thought I was your boyfriend,” Billy snorted. “What the hell. Whatever the hell this is--” he waved at Steve, then the bat, “--you gotta stop touching me. Out there.”

“It’s actually a good story,” Steve rubbed his face. “Reason to be around. Yelling shit.”

“...when did you even sleep last,” Billy tucked his elbow under him, frowning over. “You’re--you’re fucking--hallucinating. If you think telling people that shit is a good idea. How long has it been.”

“In your lap.”

“...for real, fucker, when did you get a night’s sleep, you look like I punched back.”

“...whatever. I don’t know. I’m telling. I’m calling ‘em,” Steve started crawling on his elbows, and Billy grabbed his arm.

“You are tripping balls...you should stay home,” Billy pressed a hand to Steve’s forehead, squinting in the light from the door. “Maybe you’re sick.”

At the feeling of Billy trying to take his temperature, Steve had started giggling. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“...do you want a ride to school? You shouldn’t drive,” Billy asked, staring towards the phone.

“...I dunno, are we both gonna die?” Steve looked over. “Are you sobered up enough?”

“I gotta pick Max up anyway,” Billy leaned over, letting his head rest against Steve’s chest. “Had a beer like...two hours ago.” He sighed. “Feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ die, actually.”

Steve snorted, sliding his hand down Billy’s spine. “You kinda smell like it.”

“Fuck you,” Billy mumbled into his chest.

“But yeah, I’ll take a ride. We can keep each other awake.”

“I’d kill God for some sunglasses,” Billy groaned.

“Didn’t know you needed a reason.” Steve checked the kitchen clock before letting his eyes slide shut.

Twenty-three minutes later, his alarm went off upstairs, and Billy curled into a fetal ball of muttered profanity before staggering to the bathroom. He didn’t latch the door, so the sound of vomiting came through clearly. Steve slowly rolled onto his face, then clambered to his hands and knees. Sometimes I’d rather not have a body. Or a head. He winced at Billy’s loud gagging. Given the kissing options right now, floating around like Casper seems like a great idea. He leaned on a chair and pushed himself upright, stretching his back slowly in case something broke off. When nothing did, he wandered out to the front room and plugged the phone back in. It rang not three minutes later.

“Harrington residence,” he sighed, leaning his head against the wall.

“We’ve been called by the police.”

“I know, sorry, everything’s fine.”

“This is the third incident.”

Steve walked back around the wall, leaning to see the bathroom door, then shrugged. “Actually my boyfriend just freaked out, we’d had a fight, he’ll be over a lot, the water bill might go up?”

The other end was silent.

“Bye,” Steve hung up, turning away from the wall to see Billy leaning in the entryway.

“What the hell did you just do.” His voice was hoarse.

“I probably have a spare toothbrush,” Steve put a hand on each of his shoulders and walked him back to the bathroom, “--I didn’t say it was you.”

“What the fuck.” Billy wiped his mouth, sitting on the toilet.

“Now if you’re here all the time, there’s a good reason.”

“It’s not even true,” Billy allowed his fingers to be pressed around the toothbrush, “--you’ll...what about school. You’re gonna…”

“Nobody’ll know. Come on, we gotta go.”

When they pulled up at Billy’s house, Max drug Steve out of the car and most of the way through a shrubbery. “Are you okay,” she whispered. “Nobody could reach you. I could cut his brake cables.”

“Jesus,” Steve patted her hand where she’d clenched it in his jacket. “Uh, no, it’s fine?”

“El heard police calls on the scanner. She said they mentioned a fire.”

“Sorry.” Steve tugged at his jacket. “We’re both okay.”

“He slammed my head into a door,” Billy said from a few feet away, and Max let go, glaring.

“Sounds like you deserved it.”

“You fell! He was drunk,” Steve turned to Max. “He gashed his head on the doorknob. I tried to catch him!”

“If he’d done it on purpose he’d brag, fuckhead.” Max shoulder checked Billy on the way to the car, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his head, setting his jaw.

Once they were in the car, Billy glanced between them, and turned down the volume on Rock You Like A Hurricane. “So,” he smirked at Max in the rearview mirror, “--Mountain lions?”

“What?” she snapped back.

Steve reclined his seat, nearly crushing her as she scrambled away. “Dustin told Mrs. Williams we fought mountain lions.”

“That’s stu--” she coughed as Steve widened his eyes at her. “Uh. Whatever, I don’t care.”

“So." Billy ran his fingers through his hair, and Max snorted. “Not mountain lions, then.”

“Fuck off,” she muttered, scooting down in the seat. “God, you reek.”

“What happened in the bus?” Billy slid a cigarette out of his jacket.

“Jesus,” Steve hugged his backpack to cover his face.

“Your mom made you in a bus,” Max muttered, and Billy swerved. Steve swung over and grabbed the wheel, punching Billy in the shoulder and Max in the knee with his other hand.

“Don’t kill us. Christ.”

“What does this have to do with how I ended up in the trunk.” Billy smiled at Max in the rearview mirror, and she kicked his seat.

“Seriously!” Steve punched Billy’s shoulder again. “I don’t wanna die. Just drive.”

Billy cranked the music back up, lighting the cigarette, his face set. They hadn’t even stopped pulling in in front of the school before Max had the door open, and Steve reached over to slide his thumb under Billy’s cuff.

“Shit. I told Hopper I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Billy shrugged, grinning at him as Max stalked around to start bodily dragging Steve out of the car. To Steve’s bewilderment, Eleven stood by to slide into his place. She had a big pink bow in her curls and a matching dress, but her face had the flat stare he remembered from first meeting her. Mike slid in behind her, and Billy looked from Eleven to Steve, somewhere between entertained and pissed off. “What the?” he mouthed, spreading his hands.

Max slammed the car door, dragging Steve by the elbow into the first classroom off the middle school hallway.

“What’s going on,” he asked Dustin, who shook his head, shoving him at a chair.

“Steve, you’ve gone insane.”

“It’s an intervention,” said Lucas, folding his arms.

Steve had his eyes on the windows watching Eleven in the car with Billy and Mike. Billy was listening, as far as he could tell, cigarette out the window. Glancing up to meet his eyes, Billy backed out of the parking space, and left the school.

Strangest chapter 1/chapter 2/chapter 3/chapter 4/chapter 5/chapter 6/chapter 7/chapter 8/chapter 9/chapter 10/  ALSO I am having a hard time editing these links into chapters 4-10 so...maybe leave this open in a tab...or something...I’m sorry I fail at Tumblr

Really I’d recommend reading it on Ao3 under peterqpan, scrolling through it on Tumblr sounds crazymaking XD  Thank you for reading this far!

[floralelu]

Le Fleuriste Episode 1:

WARNING: CONTAINS VERBAL, PHYSICAL ABUSE, AND MENTIONS OF SCHIZOPHRENIA

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: The plan was to take his mom out for Mother’s Day. Lunch, a little shopping, something casual. That is until Lucas spots the boy outside the flower shop.

[A/N:] Hello!! Welcome to the first chapter of Le Fleuriste (The Florist) co-written by Kenzie and I (Emmy), this is our first time collaborating on a fic and we are very excited to share it with you. Thank you for reading!!

——————————

“Oh come on, Arthur. You’re just jealous that I have a girlfriend and you don’t.” Basile exclaimed.

“I’m not jealous, just pissed because now you’re just going to spend all your time with her and not the gang.” Arthur sighed.

“Are you saying you’re gonna miss me when I’m away?” Basile approached Arthur and pinched his cheeks. Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes. Yann and Lucas both looked at each other.

“Uh, guys? Do you have something to tell us?” Yann chuckled under his breath.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m the only gay one in this group right?” Lucas and Yann both leaned back into the couch while laughing their asses off.

The apartment was quite small, only 2 bedrooms, but they made it work. Lucas didn’t mind not having a bedroom, unlike the other 3 guys who shared the rooms. Arthur and Basile shared one bedroom, each of them having separate beds of course. Yann made his statement about how sharing a room would disrupt his “sex life”, as if he has one ever since breaking up with his co-worker, Emma. Lucas moved in after the guys rented the apartment. Lucas would never forget that night.

———————————————————————

Lucas was freezing, and his clothes were soggy with both his tears and the rain that had started earlier that afternoon. His brain felt cloudy, just like the sky. He could see it in his line of sight, the light at the end of the tunnel, the apartment. He sprinted up the steps as fast as his legs carried him, maybe he should exercise more often, but that didn’t matter now.

Lucas walked up to the door and knocked, it was late but he was sure they would be up. However, they hadn’t answered the door yet, maybe they were at a party?

Lucas knocked again, louder this time, even calling out Yann’s name.

“Yann? Yann, please open the door! It’s bad, my dad left and my mom...just please open up!” Lucas kept banging on the door.

“Lucas?” It was Basile.

Finally, a familiar face after seeing only strangers among him for the past few hours. He was thrilled to see Basile in his blue and white striped boxers and a baggy t-shirt.

“Do you know how loud you’re being-” Lucas cut him off with a bone-crushing hug. He needed this. Baz returned the embrace and wrapped his arms around him.

“Lucas, I’m sorry to ruin the moment, but you’re getting me wet.” Both of them laughed.

———————————————————————

Lucas was grateful, he could never repay the gang for taking him in without question. They were his everything and he loved them, and they loved him back. The gang has been together since the beginning of high school, they’ve been through everything together. Yann was by Lucas’ side when he came out to him, the guys supported his sexuality and they thought nothing less of him. He couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends.

“Lucas? Lucas?! Lucas!” Yann shouted, swinging Lucas’ phone in his face.

“Okay! Okay! I got it.” Lucas snatched his phone from Yann’s grip. It was his mother. “Hey, Mom! What’s up?”

“Lucas! Do you have any idea what day it is?!” Lucas pulled the phone away from his ear. Damn, she was angry.

“Uh, Sunday?”

“It’s Mother’s Day! You know, the holiday where you spend time with the person who gave birth to you? Do you know how hard it was pushing your abnormally large head out of my-” Lucas cut her off.

“Okay, Ma, I get it. Do you wanna meet up somewhere then? Lemme pick you up in ten, okay? How about lunch and some shopping? Sound good?” Lucas could charm his way out of any argument. After all, what mother couldn’t love her son?

“Oh, honey! That’d be lovely. I’ll see you soon! Love you most!”

“Alright, Mom. See you in ten and I love you more than most.” He had won her over.

——————————————————————-

The taxi pulled up in front of Lucas’ childhood home, he hadn’t seen it since the day he left. He shuddered just thinking about it.

———————————————————————

“I can’t stand you anymore!” Lucas’ dad screamed. He slapped Lucas’ mother across the face. “You no good schizophrenic bitch!” He repeatedly kept slapping her.

“Dad, stop! You’re hurting her! She can’t help herself, you know that!” Lucas raised his voice over the wails coming from his mother.

“You stay out of this, Lucas! You don’t know the shit I’ve been through with this woman. You don’t know how hard it is to take care of her, you don’t even help with it. You’re so selfish, Lucas. Thinking you can get by with partying with your friends every night? The world revolves around everyone, Lucas, not just you.” Lucas’ heart was even more shattered than before.

“You get out of here. You have no right to talk to my son that way.” His mother stood up, her face bloody and bruised from the countless beatings.

“Your son? He’s our son, not just yours.” His dad gripped his mother’s arm to the point where his knuckles turned white. A tremor went down Lucas’ spine.

“Not anymore.” His mother broke free from the tight grip encasing her arm. “You need to leave.”

——————————————————————-

“Lulu! How are you, sweetie?” Lucas’ mother rejoiced as she stepped into the taxi.

“I’m doing alright, Mom. The real question is, how are you? I know it’s been almost a year, but I wanna be sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay, Lulu. Today is going to be fun. I’m looking forward to it, speaking of, where are we going for lunch?”

“Disco Danish Cafe! Manon has been dying to try out some new sandwich combinations on us and Alexia will have her spring cookies out. I know how much you love her cookies.” Lucas can recall many times when he and his mom would go to Alexia and Manon’s cafe to escape Lucas’ abusive dad. They were memories he would cherish forever.

“Just like we used to! That sounds lovely, dear. You’re so thoughtful.” She put her hand on top of his, which was resting on the seat between them.

“I love you, Mom.” Lucas looked over at his mother, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Oh, honey, no time to be so emotional. I love you most.”

“More than most.”

King’s Grove was the hub for life in Annecy, a town outside of Paris. It had cobblestone streets and picturesque storefronts. The Disco Danish Cafe was located at the corner of King’s Grove and Queen’s Avenue. The Cafe wasn’t necessarily a 70’s disco theme that you’d expect from the name, but the interior decor was like an American diner straight out of the 1950s with checkered floors, teal booths, neon lights, and a disco ball hanging from the ceiling that spun and sparkled when it caught the light coming from the storefront windows. Baked goods lined the display front windows, but as well as in the cases at the front counter of the bakery.

The masterminds behind the most popular bakery in town are Alexia and Manon. They had started the bakery once they graduated from high school and to say it wasn’t a life-changer would be an understatement.

Manon is head chef and baker. She’s not as artistic as her talented best friend and co-worker, Alexia, is. Manon is one for flavors and tastes rather than decor. Manon loves the cafe with all her heart and loves putting smiles on all of her customer’s faces when they take the first bite of her delectable dishes and baked goods.

Alexia is the decorator behind all of the cookies and cakes in the display cases and was the one behind the interior decor. Although Manon wasn’t crazy about the whole idea at first, once she saw the Pinterest boards that Alexia created, she was in. Alexia has an artistic eye that no one could change. She’s the one who always decorates and writes the eye-catching specials on the blackboard that sits outside of the cafe. Alexia even screams artistic with the constant change in her hair color.

“My girls!” Lucas shouted when he waltzed into the cafe. People glanced up and stared at Lucas, but he didn’t care, he got to see his best girls!

“Lulu!” Manon and Alexia looked up and said in unison, they ran from behind the camera and hugged him tightly.

“It’s been a while, Lucas. Where have you been?” Alexia questioned.

“Yeah, it’s almost been a year,” Manon agreed. “What have you been up to?”

“Well, um, I’ve been dealing with family issues,” Lucas looked at his mom who was standing next to him. “I’m living with Arthur, Yann, and Basile now.”

“Oh my god, I can’t imagine how that must be,” Alexia chuckled.

“Yeah, fuck, those boys can be a mess sometimes, ” Manon shook her head and laughed.

“You don’t even know the half of it, but I’m not here to talk about them. I’m here to try out your new recipes! I know we’re looking forward to it.” Lucas gestured to his mother.

“You got it!” Alexia and Manon hurried back into the kitchen to prepare the food.

———————————————————————-

“Oh! Manon, Alexia you did an amazing job you two! This looks delicious!” Ms. Lallemant studied the food with her mouth practically watering. “You two are just so talented.”

“Thank you, Ms. Lallemant,” Manon bowed.

“Alexia, these sugar cookies! Gosh, how do you even come up with this stuff? Thank you so much for making them,” Even though this was Ms. Lallemant’s hundredth time here, she was still just as astonished as if it was the first.

“My pleasure.” Alexia smiled and curtsied.

“Talk to you guys later?” Lucas asked.

“Of course! You better stop by more, our business is just suffering without you,” Alexia joked and Lucas rolled his eyes.

Lucas was thrilled that he got to spend this time with his mom, even though he forgot it was Mother’s Day. He even got to see a couple of friends. He didn’t know he needed this kind of time out away from the stress of finding a job and his own place. He had countless nights of restlessness and no sleep whatsoever. He was glad he could finally relax with his mom just like the good ol’ days.

After lunch, Lucas settled that they would visit the bookshop after his mother had spoken about a book that her friend at one of their book club meetings mentioned. Lucas figured the least he could do for her was buy her something, especially after all of the trouble they’ve been through in the past year.

The Book Nook was across from Disco Danish Cafe. It was a small shop that Emmy and Kenzie had rented out for a couple of years now, and it was the hangout for all of the bibliophiles. It had quite a cozy feel. There were brown vintage leather couches throughout the store among the endless shelves of novels that traveled up the spiral staircase to the second floor, the walls were painted a creamy caramel color, and the place was dimly lit with the storefront windows supplying most of the lighting among the building beside a few key lamps here and there and the large antique chandelier that hung above the counter. The rectangular-shaped counter was in the center of the bookstore where Emmy and Kenzie were most of the time. In the back was Nookie’s Coffee, where Arthur and Basile worked. Nookie’s Coffee had the most delicious croissants and tea, even though their specialty was supposed to be coffee.

Outside, Ouba, a once stray pomeranian, greeted Lucas on the porch steps of the store. Kenzie and Emmy took in Ouba and made her the mascot of The Book Nook, plus she kept the kids entertained while their parents went in to take a look around. Basile would call Ouba his dog because he found her first, but it seemed that she took a liking to everyone except him. Ouba liked Lucas especially since he snuck her treats.

“Sorry, girl. I came unprepared today.” Lucas frowned at her and scratched her behind the ears.

The doors to the shop were open which brought in a nice breeze. Emmy and Kenzie spotted Lucas.

“Hey, Lu!” They both called. Lucas adverted his gaze from the oh so adorable pomeranian at his feet. They both raced to him and wrapped him in a group hug.

“Oh my goodness, it’s been so long, Lucas,” Kenzie hugged him tightly.

“Okay, guys. I kinda can’t breathe here.” Lucas choked out. Immediately they pulled away from him.

“Lu, we wouldn’t get so carried away with our tight group hugs if you just come by more often,” Emmy remarked. “What have you been up to?”

“It’s a long story, maybe another time.”

Kenzie and Emmy both frowned.

“Well, we have lots of hot new releases on our shelves, and I know Basile and Arthur are off today, but if you want a coffee just say the words and I’m on it,” Kenzie mentioned as she returned to the counter, picking up her copy of Carry On.

“Yeah! Just let us know if you need anything, also it’s nice to see you back here Ms. Lallemant.” Emmy smiled at her.

“Even better to see you two.” Ms. Lallemant smiled back.

Lucas, after wandering the store for twenty minutes, finally found the book his mother was looking for. Lucas purchased it and handed it to his mom.

“Oh wow, Lucas! You really shouldn’t have!” His mother gasped in surprise. Lucas rolled his eyes as they made their way out of the shop.

“Come again!” Kenzie called out, waving to the two.

“And soon!” Emmy added.

They made their way next door to Frizzies, a brand new record shop that had just hit King’s Grove. It was really different from the other pristine and neat shops along the street, this one had a hippie style that somehow complemented the other shops quite nicely. Yann, and Alexia’s friend Emma, worked there together. Even though they broke up 6 months ago, they’re still best friends and make a pretty good team.

The smell of incense poured out of the shop’s doorway, Ms. Lallemant turned her nose up at it, but that didn’t matter once she saw the shop’s decor.

The brick walls were lined with different records, all from bands Lucas had never heard of. Fairy lights suspended from the ceiling and added a sense of calmness to the atmosphere. Tapestry displaying the store’s logo hung behind the counter which was located right as you entered. Emma was in the back of the shop reorganizing records.

“Hey, Emma!” Lucas called out once they entered.

Emma glanced up from the crate of records that were resting in her arms.

“Hey, Lucas. Welcome to Frizzies! This is your first time visiting, yes?”

“Yup, my mom’s too.”

“Two newcomers? Well, let me give you a tour!”

Emma came and stood between Lucas and Ms. Lallemant and hooked her arms with theirs, guiding them through the shop.

“I know it may look small, but there’s a lot to see. Here we have the 80’s rock section, oh and there’s the 90’s pop section over there,” Emma pointed here and there. “Here’s our stage, we have live music on Fridays and Saturdays, and on Sunday’s we have Poetry Night.”

Lucas and Ms. Lallemant oohed and awed at each aspect and detail Emma pointed out to them. She was right about there being a lot to see.

“And here’s the counter, and the cash register, and the...oh goodness I’m dragging this on aren’t I? Well, I’m sure you can find your way around, everything is labeled pretty well.”

Emma wasn’t wrong about that.

“This is just a splendid little shop isn’t it, Lu?” Ms. Lallement continued to gaze and study around the shop.

“Is it ever!”

Lucas walked over to the window, where the 90’s rap section was located. Lucas started flipping through when something caught his eye outside the window.

Across the street sat a flower shop, Barney’s. There was a boy outside of the shop rearranging the flower displays, shifting pots and pulling out bundles of one flower and replacing them with another. His back was towards Lucas, so he wasn’t able to see his face, but there was something about him that kept Lucas from looking away.

Lucas could see an older woman coming down the sidewalk. He saw her mouth move, but couldn’t make out what she had said. It wasn’t until the guy looked up and turned towards the woman’s direction that Lucas realized she had called out a name.

His name.

Moving towards her, the guy wrapped the woman in a hug. Though the angle looked awkward because of the guy’s height, she was quick to place her arms around him.

The woman was the first to pull away, moving around and standing with her back towards the record shop. Lucas sucked in a breath. From this angle, he was able to see the guy’s face.

Even while wearing an apron that was covered in what Lucas assumed was dirt, the boy looked like something Lucas had never seen before. His hair, which Lucas had decided at that moment, was the most beautiful golden brown he’d ever seen. The boy ran a hand through it and Lucas wished he could be the one to do that. The boy was nodding as the woman said something. Even from this distance, Lucas could see the crinkle’s around the boy’s eyes as he grinned at the woman. Within seconds, the happy look that was on the boy’s face disappeared and was replaced with a frown. Lucas watched the boy’s eyes find interest in the ground as the woman put a hand on his shoulder. She pulled him in for another hug just as Ms. Lallemant called Lucas’ name.

“Lu, did you find anything?” Lucas’ attention was pulled away from the window.

“Uh,” Lucas looked down to see he had stopped on a NAS vinyl, “I think I’m gonna get this one.” He held it up for her to see.

“Perfect,” she smiled at him, “I’ll meet you up at the register, okay”

Lucas nodded his head, “Sure.”

His mom smiled at him and turned, walking towards the register. Once he turned back towards the window, he looked in the direction of Barney’s but the boy was gone. Getting closer to the window so he could see better, he saw the woman walking back down the sidewalk.

Maybe he’s in the shop.

Lucas turned around and quickly walked to the register, setting the record on the counter.

“Just this one,” Lucas pulled his wallet out of his pocket and quickly handed Emma his money, “keep the change.”

“Woah,” she laughed, “are you in a hurry or something?”

“Uh… something like that” Lucas grabbed the bag that Emma put his record in.

“Bye, Ms. Lallemant. It was nice seeing you!” Emma smiled at the older woman.

“You too. I’ll have to come by more often, it’s nice seeing you kids”

Lucas, who was waiting very impatiently, looped his arm with his mother’s.

“What do you say we stop at the flower shop across the street? Maybe see if they have your favorite?” Lucas opened the door and they stepped outside.

“Oh, Lu, that would be nice.”

Barney’s Floral and More had been a staple of King’s Grove for as long as Lucas could remember. When things weren’t as bad with his parents, Lucas remembers his dad taking him so they could pick flowers out for his mom. Barney’s was to the left of the Cafe. There were two tables on either side of the door that were filled with plants and flowers of all kinds. Smaller tables and shelves held the same things around the bigger tables as well. Lucas could see that the boy had put most of the flowers on the left table and smaller plants on the right. There were bunches of lavender in a bucket next to the chalkboard that read their mother’s day special. Since the front of the store was all glass, Lucas was able to see inside of the store, but he couldn’t see the boy from before. The signature green and white striped awning that stuck out from the roof made the shop look like something from the movies.

They walked across the street and sitting right inside the window was a bouquet of red, white, and pink roses.

“Look,” Lucas pointed so his mom could see, “right there in the window like they were waiting for you.”

Lucas’s mom smiled, “It’s perfect.”

Lucas tugged her towards the shop’s door. When the door opened, a bell rang and somewhere in the shop, Lucas heard a “Welcome in!”

Maybe it’s him. Lucas felt his heart rate pick up.

“Hello?” Lucas called out

“Just a second, Woah!”

Lucas and Ms. Lallemant jumped as something clattered to the floor, the echoes of glass shattering made its way around the shop.

Lucas walked towards the noise. He peeked his head around a slightly large display of daisies. There was a boy staring at the mess on the floor, but it wasn’t the boy from before. Lucas shoved the disappointment he felt to the back of his mind.

“Are you alright, hon?” Ms. Lallemant asked from behind Lucas.

The boy jumped, “Oh, yes! Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. This is the second vase I’ve dropped this week. Give me two minutes to clean this up and then I’ll help you.”

Ms. Lallemant nodded, “Take your time, um?”

The boy stepped forward, sticking his hand out so Lucas’ mom could shake it, “Idriss.”

Ms. Lallement shook his hand, “No need to rush, Idriss.”

His earring moved as he nodded his head. Lucas’s mother pulled him towards a shelf of painted pots, pointing out one that had a raccoon painted along the side. After a few minutes, Idriss came back to where they were standing.

“So, what can I help you with today?”

“There’s a bouquet of roses in the window,” Lucas pointed so Idriss knew which ones he was talking about, “I’d like to buy them.”

“Oh,” Idriss’ eyes grew wide, “well, those are in the window for display. We’re not supposed to sell them.”

Lucas looked back towards his mom who was still occupied with the pots. She pulled one off of the shelf, turning around to show Lucas when she caught him looking.

“What? Is there something wrong?”

Lucas let out a sigh, “Idriss says they can’t sell the display in the window. Sorry, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, Lu. They’re just flowers. I’m just glad I got to spend today with you.”

Idriss cleared his throat and Lucas turned his head towards him,

“Let me see what I can do, yeah?”

Lucas beamed at him, “That would be great, thanks, man.”

Idriss took off to talk to the boss, so Lucas and his mom were left alone again.

“Lucas, I promise it’s not that big of a deal, I don’t need them.”

“Mom, it’s mother’s day, I’m getting you flowers.”

She shook her head, “So stubborn.”

Lucas grinned, “And you love me-”

A voice cut Lucas off, “Hi.”

Lucas whipped around. There, standing a few feet in front of Lucas, was the boy from outside. Lucas had thought he was beautiful while standing inside of Frizzies, but he was even more beautiful up close.

Ms. Lallemant spoke, “Hi, my son here keeps bothering Idriss about the flowers in the window, and I understand that they’re a display piece, which is why I told Lu that I don’t need them.”

The boy thought for a minute, “Well, it is mother’s day,” he smiled, “You can have them. Let me get them down. Idriss, will you ring them out?”

“Sure,” Idriss looked at Lucas and his mom, “If you’ll follow me.”

The three weaved their way through the tables of flowers, finally making it to the counter. Idriss hit a few buttons on the register and told Lucas the total. Lucas pulled out his wallet and paid Idriss. Just as Lucas was turning around, the boy came towards them with not just one but two bouquets of flowers.

Lucas stared, “Oh, uh, I only paid for the one?”

The boy nodded, “I know.”

Ms. Lallemant took the lead, “That’s so kind of you.”

A small smile made its way onto the boy’s face, “It’s no problem.”

The boy started to hand Lucas the flowers when Ms. Lallemant spoke again,

“And what was your name?”

The boy slid the flowers into Lucas’ arms, his hand brushing Lucas’ own. As he spoke his eyes connected with Lucas’

“Eliott.”

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

You Asked, I Told and Update

CW: Spoilers for Baghdad Waltz up to chapter 36 and some non-graphic discussion of childhood sexual abuse 

Hello!!!

Wow, I am so, so sorry for falling off the grid like that. I thought I was going to have WAY more time in October/November to work on the fic and work on fandom stuff in general, but my professional life threw me a huge right hook and I got completely sidetracked for weeks. So I’m off schedule a bit, in terms of having the next chapter. I’m sorry for the delay. 

I’m done with the full draft of Chapter 37 (about 23k - “short” but emotionally very dense) and am working through final revisions now. However, I also had to do an extensive amount of 9/11-related research for it, and part of that research has been reviewing oral histories of New Yorkers from the day of the attacks, and I came to the shocking realization that much of the prologue is historically inaccurate. Moreover, it’s shamefully inconsistent with the way that New Yorkers would respond to such an event. I’m embarrassed by how shoddy of a job I did with it.

Thus, I’m also going to be rewriting the prologue and including more accurate details, both historically and in terms of character dynamics. I mean, there’s no way Bucky could even live in Brooklyn and be a first responder at Ground Zero! All the bridges and tunnels were shut down. Shame on me. There will be ripple effects throughout the entire fic. Sigh. This is just round one of the massive amount of revisions I will be doing to the early chapters of the fic, which I wrote years ago now. I was going to wait to post both at the same time, but I don’t want to make you wait that long. I’ll just give you a notification when I finish the prologue revisions, and it’ll be like a little bonus chapter.

Anyway, here are some asks! Starting with a two-parter

First, thank you for the kind words. I’m glad you’re finding this fic moving. It’s definitely an emotional rollercoaster for these characters, and my hope (I guess?) is to have that be a parallel process for the readers. I think you hit the nail on the head that this relationship is exhausting. And you’re also right that not everyone would have the perseverance to keep coming back to it. It would be so much easier to amputate, pack up and go home. But once these characters get back into each other’s orbit, it’s very challenging for them to not keep crashing back into each other. It’s partially because they just love each other so much, but it’s also because they have an unhealthy relationship dynamic that sets them up for these toxic cycles. This will become especially apparent in the next chapter. They love each other, yes, but they also use each other to fill the gaping holes and insecurities they have within themselves. And they’re horrible communicators to boot. It’s a perfect storm. But at least they are going to try out some of this therapy crap maybe…?? We’ll see!

Along a similar line…

Thank you so much. That is so lovely of you to say, and I’m happy that I have your trust with this story. That said, I don’t know if it’s weakness if you’re not willing to run yourself through a miserable gauntlet of suffering the way Steve and Bucky are doing in this story. Would we call Rikki weak for drawing a boundary and stepping away from Bucky when his alcoholism was destroying their family? Some people used other words, but I’m not sure if weakness is the thing that might make someone walk away from a relationship like this. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should keep slamming your face against the same wall until you’re black and blue. This is a highly dysfunctional couple, and these men have serious issues they are grappling with personally that make them ripe for this kind of relationship. Bucky is an open wound, crippled with shame, desperate to do anything to feel better. Steve has deep attachment injuries from his chronically ill mother and deadbeat dad, as well as major control issues, and he wants to latch on and fix and make right, and if he manages every variable just right, he really thinks he can do it. And then throw in a fuckton of PTSD and TBI and alcoholism and physical injuries on top of it. So no, I wouldn’t rush to judge yourself for not envisioning yourself gutting it out in this grim scenario. 

But I also think we can identify with at least one of these characters, and we can root for people who want to overcome the shit that life has thrown at them to be with the person they love. Because they really do love each other. There’s just so much noise that it’s hard to tease out the signal sometimes. 

Good call on Bucky being a notoriously unreliable narrator, and he’s someone who is likely to underreport his suffering. Aside from his war-related injuries and his psychological struggles, Bucky’s most symptomatic issues are his GI problems. He has both peptic and esophageal ulcers, which are slightly different creatures. Peptic (stomach) ulcers, in Bucky’s case, have been caused by H. pylori and exacerbated by smoking and drinking. The esophageal ulcer was most likely caused by an excess of stomach acid due to gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) and, once again, exacerbated by drinking. Both of these have led to nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite, and weight loss. They have really emerged since Bucky got out of the military and pursued drinking with renewed vigor. Though he wouldn’t know it at the time because he doesn’t keep up with these things, his GERD is very possibly linked to acute, high dose exposure to the exceedingly toxic “dust” from the collapse of the World Trade Center towers. It’s one of the most widespread chronic health ailments of those exposed, aside from lower respiratory problems.

And now for some heavy-ass questions from licketysplittt — see CW above.

Yes, I am going to talk more about the context of Bucky’s abuse for sure, so I won’t go into the depths here. But I will say now that you are absolutely right that he has complex feelings for his abuser. I think it would have been easy to write him as just being unidimensionally angry or ashamed, but I know that’s not the experience of everyone who has experienced sexual abuse. This is especially the case if the person who commits the abuse it is a family member or caretaker or friend or trusted religious figure or someone who’s not just a “stranger in the bushes” type. I wanted to try to capture that experience in this fic. Bucky has also been multiply victimized by multiple people over the course of his life, which adds to this complexity and creates an internal narrative for him. Like what does it mean that this keeps happening to him? This is also not an uncommon experience for people who have been abused as children. And there’s also the added piece of this that Bucky’s gay, right? So he’s got this very, very young sexuality that’s on the verge of blooming (your Disney sexuality perhaps, sitting close, holding hands, etc) and this older male is making sexual advances toward him, and so he might ask if this person “saw” something in him aside from his social isolation that made him choose him. These are certainly questions he’s tortured himself over. I will get more into all of this, I promise. 

Winnie and George undoubtedly knew that their kid wasn’t a very popular one. But perhaps they always knew that he was a kid who wasn’t destined to have many friends because he’s “sensitive” or however they would characterize him (I’m sure they had different ways of viewing him). And I think it’s important to take into account the type of household that Bucky was in and the way he would shape his behavior. George was this total wildcard — “Best Dad in the World” most days but a screaming, violent tyrant at these odd, unpredictable times that were fucking terrifying for everyone in his path. This is a house where it’s best just to shut up and create as few problems as you can, because you don’t want to be the one that dad is gonna flip his shit at. And so everyone is walking on eggshells and Bucky is going to get very good at lying about how bad things are. And oh! Jamie finally has a friend, how wonderful. There will be more details in upcoming chapters about how this all transpires, but I think the dynamics at home made it possible for a lot of this to happen. And you’re right that these were not the most skillful parents, and their marriage was very strained and stressful for everyone. And these fictional assholes also frustrate me! The emotional content can be hard to write. It’s one reason these past few chapters have taken me soooooo painfully long. 

Great questions! You are all so thoughtful and kind. Sorry again for getting so terribly sidetracked. I am going to keep plugging away at the chapter and at comments and asks. I’m optimistic that I will have the next chapter for you within the next two weeks. I am pleased with this chapter and hope you’ll like it. Thank you for being so patient!!! 

[yikesharringrove]

Hi there! Can I get something with #13 and #39 with lots of hurt!Billy?, please friend?

Thank you for your request!

13: “Does it hurt?”

39: Stranded with a broken-down car

Prompts!

This got very long, and very angsty although I tried to throw some sweetness around. I hope you enjoy! I have included a lot of my own headcanons about Billy’s mom and his early life soooo. I was also thinking this takes place after season 2, maybe late April? idk.

There isn’t all that much hurt Billy, more Billy’s hurt leads him to word vomiting at Steve and them bonding 🤷‍♀️ I really hope you like it though!

Steve was fucked.

The engine of the BMW was cold. It wouldn’t even try to turn over when he turned the key in the ignition. No sound came from the under the hood.

Steve was on the edge of Hawkins, he had been at the quarry, wiling away some time while he couldn’t sleep. It was probably close to four in the morning now, so he said fuck it, got out of the car, and started walking home. He would hopefully make it with enough time for a shower and some coffee before walking to school. Maybe his old ten-speed was in the garage still...

Headlights blared at him from around the corner, sweeping over and past him before the car stopped and reversed, pulling up with the passenger door at Steve’s elbow.

“Harrington, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Billy Hargrove, his knight in shining denim was speaking through the window, near shouting over the loud purr of the engine and the screaming of some metal band Steve didn’t bother to know the name of.

“I’m walking.”

“I see that, dumbshit. Why are you walking down the fucking highway at four-thirty in the fucking morning?”

“Car broke down by the quarry. Figured I would walk home.” Steve shuffled his feet, looking down. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep. So. Went for a drive.”

“Get in.” He almost didn’t hear Billy’s command, but Steve knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, he got in.

“Thanks, man.” Billy just nodded slightly, his face mostly hidden by the darkness of the night. He floored the car, speeding along away from Hawkins. “Um, you know my house is-it’s the other way.” Steve took in how tense Billy was, his jaw clamped and his shoulders raised. His grip on the steering wheel was nothing like the lazy one-hand her usually kept.

“You ever just need to escape? Even for a little bit?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” Steve settled in his seat. He was not opposed to taking a drive with Billy, who seemed to relax a bit. Steve was always good at reading other people. Sometimes he ignored his gut feelings in favor of something he so desperately wanted (the whole Nancy situation was example enough for that), but he could tell when something was wrong. And something was really fuckin wrong with Billy Hargrove tonight.

They drove in silence, flying down the main highway, past the Leaving Hawkins sign.

Steve turned down the music a fraction. “You wanna go get breakfast? I know a good all diner in Indianapolis. They’ll probably be open by the time we get there. My treat.”

Billy just shrugged, but he didn’t turn the music back up, and Steve called that a win.

It was nearly two hours to the city, longer if the person driving you wasn’t a speed demon, so the sun was rising by the time fields began to give way into suburbs, suburbs blooming into urbanism.

Steve sat up, ready to direct Billy to the diner on the corner of Shelby and Norton when he caught sight of Billy in the weak morning sun.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Billy, what happened?” His left eye was puffy, the cheekbone below it swollen and purple, a cut right on the high point. His jaw had long bruises on either side, as though, well it looked as though someone had grabbed him by it.

Steve thinks the worst thing were Billy’s hands.

His knuckles were white, his grip a vice on the steering wheel, but they were free of any bruising, any splits. Steve had been on the receiving end of those fights. He knew Billy fought back, and well, so if he didn’t.

Maybe he couldn’t.

The thought sent a chill down Steve’s spine.

“Can it Harrington. I’m fucking fine.”

“You’re obviously not ‘fucking fine’, Billy. What happened? Who did this?”

“Look, Princess. I’m not one of your fucking kids, so just shut your fucking mouth and leave it the fuck alone or I will make you get out of my fucking car and WALK back to shithole Hawkins. Give me directions, or get out.”

Steve sighed and led Billy along, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

They pulled up in front of Joe’s Shelby Street Diner just as a kind looking waitress with a round face and a gray ponytail was flipping the sign from closed to open.

“Welcome in boys. Take a seat anywhere you like and I’ll be by with some menus.” She blinked at Billy’s face. “And some coffee.” Steve just nodded at her and led Billy to a corner both against the windows.

“My parents used to take me here.” Steve was staring down at his hands on the table, not knowing where to look. “When I was little my dad opened a branch in the city and got an apartment out here. He would only come home on weekends so every Tuesday my mom would pick me up from school, and we’d drive out here together, and meet my dad for dinner.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling billy all of this.

“My mom worked at a joint like this. I would come and hang out after school. She would sneak me rootbeer floats and help me with my homework on her breaks.” He was smiling bitterly. Steve had never heard Billy say anything about his mother before.

“What was she like?”

Billy took a breath, his own hands nervously tugging on the sleeves of his jacket. The denim one. Steve liked it.

“She had me real young, dropped outta high school when she got pregnant at fifteen kinda young. My dad was in Vietnam when I was born. Married her when he came back. I was six. She was a total hippie, she got kicked outta her house when she got knocked up, and lived on a commune with a buncha people until my dad came back. I think she only married him so she could have a place to sleep that wasn’t a tent in a field. I don’t remember a lotta that. didn’t eat any meat until I was, like eight years old. And she fuckin’ named me after William Pester, this like hippie leader who was real famous or something. ”

Billy took a break from his story when the kind waitress returned to get their orders, both boys loading up on breakfast. Steve tried not to speak so loud, afraid of breaking this spell he had created in this booth with Billy.

“Once my dad was back in the picture, it was pretty different. He’s an asshole. Made her change everything about herself. She was always real Catholic, but kind of a free spirit. Only listened to the parts of The Bible that were nice and said to love everyone, but my dad said pickin’ and choosin’ from The Bible was just pussyfooting around religion. She didn’t like that.

“He was a piece of shit from the jump. Married her because ‘a good man supports his family’ or some garbage. Good man my ass. He would yell at her about how she was raisin’ me. Said he left to defend our country, and here she was making sure his only son grew up to be a fuckin’, well. He has a few choice words about me.”

Their food was set down before them, Steve absolutely enraptured by everything Billy was saying. They ate in silence for a minute.

“Do you mind if, I mean, did she pass away?” Steve wanted Billy to keep talking. He liked learning more about him. Every word he said only softened the edges, made him so much more human.

“Nah. She left. Packed her shit one night and was just, gone. She called me a few weeks later and I fuckin’ BEGGED her to take me with her, but she wouldn't come back. I think she went back to her commune or something. I haven’t seen her since I was ten.”

“So, you’ve been with your dad ever since?”

“Yeah. He’s not jazzed about it. Always likes to remind me that I’m a bastard. He’s the one that fucked a fifteen-year-old. He was like, twenty when he did that.”Billy rolled his eyes, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.

“Did he, do,, that?” Steve asked the question slowly, carefully. Billy snapped his eyes up to meet him.

“So what if he did?”

“I mean-I just, does it hurt?” Billy just stared.

“Are you stupid?” Steve recoiled. “Of course it fucking hurts. He got me real good this time. He’s been especially bitter since we moved here.”

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid, stupid question.” Steve pushed around the scrambled egg on his plate. “Why did you guys move here?”

“You want Neil’s fake answer, or do you want the real one?” Billy leaned in conspiratorily. Steve mirrored him without even meaning to. “Can you keep a secret, Pretty Boy?”

Images of tunnels, of monsters, of staring death in the face and charging it with a spiked bat, dreams of hard, muscular masculine bodies flashed through his mind.

“Yeah. I’m good at secrets.”

“So Neil likes to say it’s to get a fresh start. Move somewhere where nobody knows us. We can have a clean slate as a family.” He spat the last few words out. “But the real story is, he wanted to get my gay ass outta liberal, free lovin’ California, to a shitty hick town where I would be the victim of a fuckin’ hate crime if I let my impulses run wild. He caught me with a guy. We weren’t even doing anything good, just makin’ out. Dad went apeshit though. Threw me down some stairs.” He rolled his eyes and casually kept eating like he hadn’t just dropped this enormous fucking bomb on Steve. 

“I’m so sorry, Bill.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t hit me. It wasn’t the first time, sure as shit wasn’t the last.”

“Is that why your mom left?”

“Yeah, she was gettin’ it pretty bad there. I mean, so was I, so I don’t get why she left me there with him. Sometimes I really hate her for it.”

“I’m sor-” Steve cut himself off when Billy gave him a sharp look. “You don’t deserve that, is all.”

“I don’t get you, Harrington. You sit there, after I dumped all this shit on you, gave you some incriminating facts about me, and you just tell me I don’t deserve to get hit by my old man. I beat the shit outta you, remember?”

“Yeah, but honestly, I was being super shady that night. I shouldn’t have lied to you about Max.” Steve shrugged. 

“That wasn’t all you, Harrington. I had gotten into it with my dad about her, how she’s my responsibility and all that, and then Mrs. fuckin’ Wheeler was all over me when I went there-I mean, don’t get me wrong. I definitely flirted a little to get some information from her, but all I really did was like, stand there. I think I ate a cookie. Usually, older women just get a little flustered, but she was, like, into it. So, I was runnin’ pretty hot by the time I met you.”

“Oh my GOD, Karen used to flirt with me all the time! I would just sit and awkwardly smile and be like, yes hello, I am here to see your teenage daughter, since I am her teenage boyfriend.” Billy laughed at that, a real boisterous laugh Steve had never heard from him before. Steve decided he liked it. 

“That’s fucking disgusting. Just because she’s unhappy with her life, doesn’t mean she gets to throw her cat at teenage boys.” Steve choked on his pop, trying not to spew it all over the table. 

“Please never say that again,”  he coughed out as Billy threw his head back and laughed. He slowly regained himself. “And, you know, I mean what I said. I’m good at secrets. I won’t, I’m not gonna tell anybody.” Billy smiled at him. 

“Yeah? King Steve got some secrets? Any you’d like to share with the class? You know, so we’re on even turf here.” Billy winked. Steve’s face went hot. 

“Well, I mean, you and I may have some things in, uh, in common.” 

“What, like shitty dads?”

“No. Well, I mean yes, but other things.”

“Mommy issues?”

“Oh, definitely, but like, OTHER stuff, too.” He willed Billy to understand. He didn’t know if he’d be able to say it out loud. 

Luckily Billy got it. A look of pure shock spread over his face, followed by a huge grin.

“No fuckin’ way. No fuckin’ way you’re gay too, Harrington.”

“Well, I mean. I don’t know.”

Billy’s face fell.

“You don’t know?”

“I mean, like, I like girls. A lot. Like I love girls and everything about them, but there’s also, there’s also guys. And I-there’s definite interest, is what I’m saying.”

Billy smiled again, a softer one this time. 

“That’s okay. Y’know some people are into both. Bisexual, is the word. David Bowie is bisexual. For some people, it’s more about the personality of the person, less the, bits I guess.”

“There’s-I mean-Bowie? Sorry, I just mean, like, there are people like that?”

“Yeah, the whole thing doesn’t have to be black and white if that’s not what you feel.”

“Fuck. That was-thanks man.” Steve mulled the word around in his head. Bisexual. It made sense. It felt, good. “Bisexual.” Billy smiled at him again. He returned it.

Billy checked his watch, yawning like a huge cat. 

“Fuck, Pretty Boy. We should probably head back. If we go fast we could probably only be a little bit late for class. 

“I mean, or we could say fuck it.” 

Billy’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah? What do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t even care man, but it’s been way too long since I’ve been in the city, and I feel like we could both use a break from fucking Hawkins. Plus, I don’t know. I like hanging out with you.”

Steve ducked his head, studying the patch of table by Billy’s left elbow, face hot and undoubtedly red. 

“I could go for a nice day of playing hooky with you.” Steve beamed at Billy, throwing some bills down on the table. 

“Then lets fucking go then.” He bounded back to the Camaro, Billy’s sweet laugh ringing through the diner.

Oh yeah, Steve could definitely get used to this.

[drshojo]

I Am A Shill For The Manga Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun

Hello! Dr. Shojo here! It has been a long time since I've posted anything!

Is it because I stopped reading manga? Haha nope it's because I have carpel tunnel AND tendonitis. You should see my physiotherapy bill! It's depressing! But you know what cheers me up? All the love you guys showed my Katarina Class post!

In thanks for the love you’ve shown I’m back! And today were talking about one of my favorite manga's of all time – Short Cake Cake! Oh, wait we already covered that! Change of plans! Time to cover my OTHER favorite manga of all time!

That’s right! Today we are taking a look at the supernatural shojo TOILET BOUND HANAKO KUN!!

First of all, can we talk about these colors?! I would sell my right lung for these colors. The gorgeous character designs combined with these washed out neon is what got me to check out the series. It's just incredibly appealing. Also, the fact that Hanako looks like a sassy ass trouble maker.

mean look at this kid. I'm weak to sass. Don’t ask me how many doodles I have of Kokichi Ouma in my sketchbook ok? It’s embarrassing.

Now Toilet Bound Hanako Kun is super easy to get into because the first chapter reads like a one shot. You can read it and be satisfied in only 60 pages. What are you waiting for? GO! READ IT NOW!

IF YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH THE CHARACTERS AND ART LIKE ME THERE ARE 9 MORE VOLUMES BUT IF YOU DON’T YOU CAN BE DONE AFTER 60 PAGES.

*cough* I'm calm I swear.

Now let's delve into it shall we?

The story starts out with our adorable Protagonist Nene. She's our typical heroine. Adorable, Dense and hopelessly in love with some boy! The twist this time is that she has the bright idea to use the local school ghost Hanako of the Toilet to try and get said man.

Hoh boy. This sounds like a poorly thought out plan.

Thankfully Hanako is like GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING USING THE SUPERNATURAL FOR THIS EVERYDAY SHIZ. DID YOU NOT SEE HOW THIS WORKED OUT IN SABRINA?  

Ok so Ima level with you, this premise instantly won me over to Hanako. He’s a nice kid! He really wants Nene to be ok! He warns her totally un cryptically that she's making bad life decisions! Hey Nene, Maybe date this dead kid! I know it sounds weird but this is manga so your probably fine!

Anyways after these cute hijinks ensue with Nene trying to win over her love with Hanako’s help.  

What sets this story apart is the writing of the characters. Hanako and Nene seem really genuine when they are trying to figure out the best way to win over someone's heart. What makes someone appealing? Do you really know what love is when you're that young? Never trust a love self-help book!

Anyways I really recommend reading the first chapter to get the whole story, the art is super cute. Did you see Nenes uniform?! To die for! This manga is low key less horny soul eater and Its fun!  

But for those that want to know more about where the story is going, spoiler alert!  

Predictably Nene eventually tries to use the magic route out of desperation and winds up cursed to turn into a fish/mermaid and the only to be human again is to be bound together with Hanako instead of her true love. Yup it’s a life of cleaning toilets for Nene. 

And so our story begins!

This is also the part where we find out that Hanako is way more of a little shit then we thought.

Nene isn't a pushover though so were going to get some really cute back and forth for the rest of the series. Hanako’s obvious crush on Nene is going to be a slow burn. Ganbatte Hanako Kun!

So, if you're wondering where the series goes from here, Hanako and Nene investigate the 7 supernatural school mysteries as they pop up and start to cause trouble in the school. We slowly learn more about Hanako and his past, Nene has more misadventures in love, and because this is a shojo we get our LOVE TRIANGLE!

Now let us pause so I can gush about this love triangle.

IT’S A LITTLE GAY YOU GUYS. ITS GOT THAT SHORT CAKE CAKE VIBE OF BEING A LITTLE BIT GAY. I’M WEAK

OK. This time our light-haired Boy B is Kou, And he is an exorcist! What a perfect rival for Hanako!

Hanas like bitch Nene is mine tho. What a little sh*t.

Don’t let their first meeting fool you though. Kou and Hana get their own friendship arc in the series and soon Kou is saying misleading things like KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY MAN!

He like also stresses out that Hanako is falling out of a building this one time but like, Hanas a ghost so calm down?

look out Nene, Kou is being a real stud around Hana. He might steal his heart!

Anyways I don’t want to spoil to much so I'll just wrap this up now. But I'm not going to lie if I didn’t ship HanaNene so much I would ship Hanakou in a hot second.

HANA GETS SO MANY TENDER MOMENTS WITH NENE IN BETWEEN HIS TROLLING THOUGH I CANT NOT ROOT FOR THEM OK

Jokes aside the three form a mystery hunting trio so adorable I had to spend 120$ of fillings for the cavity's i just got.

My only complaint about this series.......is that the only way to buy Toilet bound hanako kun...... is via EBOOK. There is NO PHYSICAL ENGLISH RELEASE. So, if it is in your means PLEASE CONSIDER BUYING THE EBOOK SO WE MIGHT ONE DAY GET A PHYSICAL COPY. HECK IF I GO TO JAPAN IM TRAKING THESE DOWN I NEED TO HOLD THEM IN MY HANDS.

*cough* I'm calm I swear.

Honestly, I love Hanako, Kou and Nene with all of my otaku heart. The art is gorgeous and detailed, the water color title pages are to die for, and the story has that supernatural vibe I've been missing from gravity falls.

READ IT READ IT READ IT LOOK HOW MUCH LOVE WENT IN TO INKING HANAKOS BLACK HAIR AND UNIFORM. MY POOR WRISTS HURT THINKING ABOUT IT! SUPPORT THIS EFFORT!

Xoxo

Ciao!

Dr. Shojo

[cruezins]

       ☣  ;  (  KIM TAEHYUNG  ,  24  ,  HE/HIM  )  coming up next on rebel radio is OPAUL by FREDDIE DREDD  .  this tune goes out to SIWON RYU  .  rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for the GHOULS  .  they’re AFFABLE  ,  INQUISITIVE but also AIMLESS  ,  MERCURIAL so watch your backs out there  .  we wish them the best of luck here in our golded city of light  .  stay vigilant  ,  stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one  .

𝐎𝐎𝐂  :  hello  !  i’m deni and i don’t know what editing is  .  i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone  .   i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea  ,  so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same  .  my discord is gay fairy#6371  .  anyway  ,  here is siwon  ,  someone i’ve been work-shopping for a while  !  looking forward to writing with you  ♡

                     ☣  ;  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇  .

cw  :  drug mentions  ;  stop me if you’ve heard this one before------

       his dad’s a junkie and he hasn’t seen his mom since some fatcats bought their restaurant for a steal a few years before  ,  but that’s the way of life for a lot of people in the underground  .  young  ,  bored  ,  and desperate to hear and smell anything that wasn’t the rottenness of his own childhood home  ,  siwon found himself on the streets more nights than not  ,  spray paint in one hand   ,  painting nights in greens and purples until reds and blues chased him away  .  makes his first steal before he can tie his shoes  .  creates alliances with the neighborhood kids  ,  sneaks around to watch how the haves live with their pretty  ,  pretty screens and their ugly  ,  ugly words  .  school isn’t anything special  ,  either  ,  and while siwon can’t remember shit that he reads from a page he can work with his hands  .  fast and efficient  ,  nimble fingers whether they’re flying across a keyboard or fucking around with some screws  .  you can make something of yourself  ,  some of his teachers tell him while others can’t stop bitching about homework or tardiness or the way he falls asleep in the middle of class  .  but what’s siwon supposed to make  ?  he and his ragtag group of weirdos he calls friends  .  when he gets older and nights get hungrier  ,  siwon learns to stop relying on the benevolence of neighbors and finds a job  ---  he’s fast  ,  after all  ,  with a sweet face and wide eyes  ,  makes a helluva getaway after years and years of running  .  

       thieving’s a natural grift  .  he’d been training for this his whole life  .  then he catches the eyes of a boss man who isn’t nearly as mad as he should be catching some kid with his wallet in his hands  .  courier comes next  ,  ferrying messages from a bunch of suits all over the city  .  siwon never opened the packages  ,  never second guesses the credits that start bloating his account  .  desperate  ,  he does what he’s told and does it well ------ and that’s the real kicker  ,  isn’t it  ?  that after a year and some-odd months of dedicated service they leave him high and dry with some bullshit he doesn’t have any involvement with  .  after years of running  ,  boys in blue finally catch him and he’s left to take the fall of some dumb fuckery  ,  man  ,  and he’s pissed  .  steaming in jail  ,  it’s a wonder some other gang didn’t get to him first  .  the longer he sat and talked with that ghoul member  ,  the more he grew to despise the rich  ,  the ones who left him to rot after all the shit he did for them  .  what was even the point anymore  ?  dog eat dog kind of bullshit  ,  no sense of loyalty or shit anywhere  .  the law and all that money was out to get him from the beginning and siwon had enough of it  .  a few months locked up but he learned and leaned and learned  ,  only able to get out on a technicality  .  the second he stepped back out into the sun  ,  siwon followed the map given to him and signed up for the ghouls  .  city of light be damned  .  the only lights he wants to see are flames eating this hellhole alive  .

                    ☣  ;  𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  .

➤  full name.  ryu si-won ➤  date of birth.  january 29th ➤  hometown.  city of light ➤  gender.  cis male ➤  affiliation.  ghouls  ➤  primary occupation.  drug runner  ,  pickpocket  ➤  secondary occupation.  network manager at an internet cafe 

➤  sexual attraction.  pansexual ➤  romantic attraction.  panromantic ➤  character alignment.  chaotic neutral ➤  personality type.  enfp ➤  temperament.  sanguine ➤  wants.  power  ,  family

       stands around 5′11  .  broad shoulders  ,  slim hips  .  floppy  ,  messy hair and sun browned skin  .  half legs  .  a few pieces of silver in his ears and a small hoop on his bottom lip  .  dresses somewhere between a washed up rockstar  ,  your college weed dealer  ,  and a miami vice reject  .  style’s a whim with a closet’s chaotic mix of anything he thrifts or patches together  .  most of the time he’s sporting cuffed jeans  ,  vintage blouse  ,  a denim jacket or tweed blazer and thick ass boots  .  keeps all that hair back with a bandanna or a headband  ,  hair ties on his wrist  .  nothing in his closet’s technically new and he loves looking for a bargain steal —— or simply just a steal  .  likes colors just as much as he likes his neutrals  .  wears a black air filtration mask and fingerless gloves  .  considers his floral button-up shirts fancy material and his trousers cut off at the ankles  .  likes the smell of old leather and the breathing of fringe on a jacket  ,  the weight of heavy rings on his fingers and sunglasses swooped low on his nose  .  wears a monocle because he can’t be fucked with reading glasses  .   his hair’s been every color of the rainbow and he’s always changing it up thanks to temporary dye  .

                                    ☣  ;  𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄  .

       hustles at arcade halls  ,  scarfs down ramen and burritos like they’re gonna disappear  ,  looks as comfortable in a dark  ,  dirty alley as he does standing under all those lights in the neon district  .  pockets full of candy and a lollipop between his lips  .  likes cheap beer and cigarettes  ,  fast talking and smooth smiles  .  gets up when the sun goes down  .  who knows if he ever gets a full night’s sleep  ,  but you can find him taking a nap just about anywhere  .  seems to live for the dark hours and stays busy as a bee  ,  at the internet cafe one moment and grabbing fried cheese sticks in the next before crossing the bridge to watch the street races and venturing to the tunnels for the fighting rings  .  complains about being broke but puts down bets faster than anyone  .  lives for the feeling of wind in his hair so the window of his top-floor one bedroom shit hole stays open all the time  .  feels the rain on his skin  ,  plays with matches  .   learned how to assemble a gun in less than sixty seconds and stays packing nowadays though he can’t really shoot for shit  .  spray paints boobs on the sides of government buildings and dicks on malls  .  looks like an angel under all those holographic lights  .

       rides a motorbike and his skateboard  .  can do crazy math in his head and spot fake bills with incredible accuracy  .  can barely stand to sit still  ,  always moving except when there’s a computer screen in front of him  .  gets addicted to things so easily it’s scary  ---  people  ,  food  ,  liquor  ,  feelings  .  craves that intimacy  ,  craves that closeness that’s always been denied to him  .  has a loud as fuck laugh and a love for sneaking into places where he doesn’t belong  .  catches extra cash on the side by fixing up broken-down machines and can figure his way around a motor with a bit of elbow grease  .  still sees his family  .  not as much as a good son would  ,  but he sends cash when he can and looks after his younger sister  ,  makes sure she stays well and clean  .  they don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to since he was let out of prison  ,  but they might have some idea --- after all  ,  who’d pay a crooked boy with a record as well as he seems to be  ?  when the sun starts to come up and he crashes into bed  ,  siwon stares out the window and thinks about how in another world  ,  or in another time he probably could’ve been something  .  could’ve made something great  .  but for now he’s just got a whole lot of anger  ,  raw like a fresh wound he can’t stop picking at  .  

                           ☣  ;  𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔  ?

➤  bonds.  my loyalty to my friends is unwavering  ;   i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s rotting in jail somewhere  ;  i fleeced the wrong person and must work to ensure this individual never crosses paths with me  . ➤  flaws.  once i pick a goal  ,  i become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life  ;  when I see something valuable  ,  i can't think about anything but how to steal it  ;  i have a weakness for the vices of the city  . 

       he’s friendly  ,  but he doesn’t make friends easily --- the ones that he has made  ,  he’d do anything for  .  because that’s how he’s gotten this far  ,  right  ?  all those people who looked after him when others tried to stomp him out  .  he’s still close with his teen friends who threw a few grifts with him  ,  gaming buddies that he knows only through a screen  .  little escapes from all the other bullshit going on in the world  .  even though he isn’t a club guy  ,  he runs into more than a few faces on his rounds  .  maybe they’re bad influences or sweethearts who help that touch starved affliction that comes from living in a city so wired  .  on the flip side  ,  there’s some enemies --- competitors in the runner world  ,  antagonists he meets at the races or rings for whatever reason  (  insane bets make tempers run hot  ,  who knows when they’ll flare for good and siwon’s learning the hard way how to keep his mouth shut  )  .  he’s fixed up a few cars or weapons for people recently because he misses working with his hands  .  y’know  ,  making nice  .  then there’s people he’s caught in a crossfire with  ,  where they’ve met something nasty one too many times before over turf  ,  territory and clients  .  a newer face to the ghouls  ,  he’s bugged someone into mentoring him  ,  and gone on a few runs with someone he loves to call a coworker  .  

       eager to prove himself as more than a green kid with a keyboard and an eye for detail  ,  find him cutting deals and making trades in smokey barbecue houses  ,  hole-in-the wall ramen shops or by taco tents  .  a full bellied class of clients are happy clients in his opinion  ,  and siwon isn’t above not making deals with the other groups who’s names aren’t violent delights  .  speaking of which  ---  there are definitely some skeletons there he aims to confront  ,  some old demons to fight from that class of people that fucked him over  .  there’s an ex lover in there somewhere  ,  probably met in that pre-prison childhood phase when he mingled past class lines more  ( ~1.5-2 years ago )  .  someone he’s healthily fearful of for whatever reason  ,  and maybe a vendetta against the family that scammed his parents out of their business and basically sent his life spiraling  .  there’s someone who isn’t what they seem  --- he doesn’t know who they really are  ,  and maybe they don’t know who he is  ,  either  .  they’ll learn eventually  .  someone he’s protective over  ,  someone who protects him in ways he doesn’t even know  ,  and those he looks after because they grew up on the same side  .  desperate for connection  ,  desperate for a place  ,  he finds it all in heaven and hell  .