#i mean billy’s my day one baby but really any of those four will do!

[pollenallergie]

okay okayy I have to go to sleep, but, before I do…

send me Billy Knight thoughts (or thots)?? i’m on day 18 of a 20 day work week (aka i’ve worked OT on Saturday and Sunday for the past two weeks) and my brain needs the comfort.

[praisetheaxolotl]

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

Part 1: Mandibles!

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

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

Also, same as before:

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

Let's get into it, shall we?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the order of RGBY, they read as follows:

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

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

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

Two- Talking about it at all was illegal.

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

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

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

But never mind all that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why the billboard?

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

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

Let's talk about Flatland.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

[unamused-boss]

I have a idea! So billy x reader and they have been dateing for 3 years each year you try to get the lead role in the school play so it's your now it's your fourth year doing this and you finally get the lead role and you and billy celebrate :)

Where for art thou... Juliet?

Billy Hargrove x Reader

disclaimer: doesn't follow stranger things plot, billy maybe oc, and apologize if this is short! Reader is GN just because they are trying out for Juliet doesn't mean reader is completely fem, its only for the story! I was also a kid in theatre, so I can insult my people lol

Summary: You and Billy have been dating for a while now. You have been apart of the drama club for all of high school, trying for every lead only to get the supporting roles or side roles. Now being a Senior in high school you have finally gotten your lead role. And Billy is 100% supporting you... well most of it.

..............................................................................................................................

You and Billy have been the IT couple of Hawkins High School for years. It surprised everyone when in the last two months of freshmen year you got Billy Hargrove to go on a date with you. As well to find out you asked him, some kid that was apart of the theatre club, which Billy liked very much. Billy liked his little nerd.

In those four years of being together you and Billy have supported each other through everything. You went to every basketball game Billy played in; cheered for him as loud as you could. Even when his team fumbled the ball at the lat second of the state championship game, which you had to comfort Billy through. But today isn't about Billy, no, today is about his sweetheart auditioning for the spring production of their final year of high school today.

"So do you think I'll do good?" You ask nervously, you been tugging at the sleeve of your jacket all morning as the other students around you make their way into the school as you sat at the hood of Billy's car with him. For the past week you have been going over and studying your lines for the auditions for Romeo and Juliet today. You are auditioning for Juliet today, the role of your dreams (deal with it).

"You're gonna do great, baby." Billy reassured, "Don't doubt yourself, you are talented."

"But what if I fuck up..." You sighed.

"You're not going to fuck up, babe." Billy said softly. "Listen your the best fuckin person they got in there."

"You're just saying that cause you're dating me, silly."

"No I'm not, you are going to do great in there." Billy said turning to face you. "Who gives a shit about Tammy Thompson, or Catherine, or who ever else you think is going to out shine you... you are going to do great and rock that shit."

"You really think so." You smile up to him. You got all giddy in your stomach when he was soft with you. Billy started to put his arms around your waist bring you in close for a hug. Billy kisses the top of your head making you giggle.

"I'll see you after four o'clock okay, and maybe we can have a movie night to calm your nerves a bit." Billy suggested.

"I would love that." You smiled and pecked his lips. Letting go of his hold to make your way into the school.

.................................................................................................................

Your day went by pretty slow. For one not having Billy in any classes and two Billy skipping half way through the day so you didn't see him for lunch. But that did not matter, the dreaded time has arrived. Auditions. The director was not doing a cold read like she did every year, this time you had a month in advance to learn the lines of your desired part. You made your way to the drama room to wait for your name to be called.

"Catherine Shuort!" The director called. Catherine got up an mad her way out. There is not way you are getting this role, you can't be half as good as some of these girl. Catherine had a lead role in sophomore year! You were starting to freak out a bit.

"Hey!" A voice shouted you out of your own head. You look up to see your long time friend, Eddie Munson. Who is also a member of the drama club for the past few years.

"What's got you so worked up?" He asked.

"I just want to do good." You responded.

"You gonna do great, hell I sometimes question casting cause of how good you are." He said, casually looking down to his script.

"What do you mean?" You questioned.

"Tabitha Thompson!" The voice shouted, directing Tammy to get up to go audition.

"You so should have gotten a better role last year then, you should've at least gotten Jo or Laurie!" Eddie seemed baffled at the casting last year when you performed Little Women. You received the role as the girls mother as well as played someones uncle.

"You really think." You said.

"Um. Absolutely." Eddie nodded his head to the statement. "You like really good, better than Tammy "muppet" Thompson out there." You giggle at his remark of Tammy's voice.

"Thanks Eddie, you're a great friend." You smiled.

"Eh, it's no trouble, you did help me ask Chrissy out." He said...

"Y/N L/N!" You hear your name be shouted from the outside. You take a deep breath before making your way out. Remembering what Billy was saying to you this morning. You stepped out on stage, the old wooden panels creaking underneath your shoes.

"Hello, my name is Y/N L/N and I will be auditioning for Juliet today."

"Alright, when ever your ready..."

.....................................................................................................................

It has been three days since the audition. All you have done is wait in suspense for the cast list to be posted. You caught wind from Tammy it should be posted today. Once the bell rang, signaling that the day was over. You hopped out of your seat straight to your locker to put your books away. You were about to leave when.

"Whoa, whoa, Hey sweet thing." Billy said bringing you into a tight hug. "Where you off to?"

"The cast list is being posted today." You say, wrapping your arms around Billy. He smiled down to you.

"Alright, but you have to kiss me before." He teased. You complied happily, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. When you parted you said your goodbyes saying you will meet him at his car in a few minutes. You ran to the drama room to see the cast list be put up.

Romeo ............................................ Edward Munson

Juliet .............................................................. Y/N L/N

Mercutio .............................................. Dylan Fowler

Tybalt .............................................. Catherine Stern

Lady Capulet ............................. Tabitha Thompson

Capulet ..................................… Fredric McShallows

You couldn't believe it. You got Juliet! You got the lead! You ran straight passed everyone. Passed Catherine who looked pissed off at her role. Pass Dylan, the freshmen, that looked shocked he got an on stage character role. Passed everyone, none of them matter to you at the moment. You only cared about seeing one persons and one person only. Your boyfriend, Billy. You slam passed the doors to his car with the biggest smile on your face. Billy sees you and has no time to react as you throw yourself into his arms.

"I got it! I got the lead! I'm Juliet!" You cheered.

"I knew you would get it baby! I knew you would!" He held you closer. "Let's go out on a date tonight."

Really?!" You said.

"Hell yeah, my baby got the lead role." He cheered with s smile on your face, "Get in the car!" Taking you over to the passenger seat of the car, opening the door for you then making his way to the drivers side. Turing the engine on to roar the camaro right out of the school parking lot. Billy took you to a nice place to eat. Well as nice as a high schooler that works at the public pool can get, but it was still nice. You and Billy currently sat in a booth with your food in front of you.

"So, tell me about this Romeo and Juliet shit." Billy said, he may have seemed harsh about it but he has sat through every rant for every play you've been in. Billy loves listening to you talk about anything, literally you could talk about paint drying; he will continue to look at you with hearts in his eyes.

"Well it's about two lovers in Verona that can't be together but choose to anyway." You answered. You were about to eat more of your fry when Billy said, "So you're playing one of the lovers?"

"Yes."

"So do the lovers... at any point... uh kiss?" This confused you. Billy has seen you with an onstage "lover" before. What's so different?

"I mean... maybe once, but it's at the end?" You answer looking at him. Then you see it in his eyes and lips, he was being so jelly. You started laughing at him.

"What's funny?" He smiled to you.

"You know the Romeo has a girlfriend, right?" You answered.

"Who?"

"Eddie? You know who he is." You said.

"You have to kiss Munson?!" Billy said.

"Billy you have nothing to worry about, are you scared he's gonna kiss better than you?" You teased.

"No." He snorted, " I just love you a lot, and I don't want another guy to kiss you the way I do."

"Aww Billy Hargrove has a heart." You joked. Billy just rolled his eyes to you. "Seriously, I don't think Edward Munson will replace you." You get up from your side of the booth to make your way over to his side. Sitting next to him and giving him a smooch on the cheek. Billy just smiled to you as you did to him. You both finished up your night with food and fun. You and Billy really did love each other. It came with the time you both have been together. Nothing could change your mind about Billy Hargrove. As well as nothing could change his name about you.

So when the time came of your final bow came on stage, Billy was waiting for you outside with the biggest bouquet of roses just for you. Even if the three second kiss peeved him a little but he can easily get over that. Since he will be with you for the rest of his life.

"You were absolutely amazing, baby." Billy smiled with you in his arms.

"Well, Eddie might have gotten the role of Romeo but I think you fit far better." You smiled up to him. You both brought your lips together for a sweet yet passionate kiss.

.....................................................................................................................

hope you enjoyed the Fic!

[hargrove-mayfields]

Hargrove-Mayfield-Hopper-Scott Siblings AU (Part 2/2)

Just kidding about the last moodboard guys! Haha they were just being silly, they’re actually all fine!

And speaking of, here’s a preview of an upcoming domestic family fluff fic under the cut!

Vance told them all to be in the car by 7:20 am. They’re pushing it by six minutes already. The school gets pissed when they’re even a minute late though, like it’s his fault he’s raising four of them at 23 goddamn years old.

At least the youngest is nice to him. She’s already buckled in the back middle seat, waiting for Max and Jason Lee to take their respective places on her right and left. Her waist-length mousy brown hair is in two braids, done by Billy since he’s the only one that can ever get them to stay.

If only Billy could get ready as fast as he’d done those twin long braids.

“Pearlie girl, why are you the only shithead here that listens to me?” Vance had turned all the way in his seat to sign to Pearl, a little clumsy with sign language since he only just met her a few years ago.

That’s a long story. Something, something- his mom ran away with Jason Lee, had a baby in secret, hid from them and never called, not even when Vance was missing for ten months, then dumped said kids back on their equally as shitty dad once the twins turned 16.

That was the last straw for Vance. He’d fought for custody of the kids right then before Neil could fuck them up any more than he already had, and now here they are, in the shitty middle of the woods, five of them packed into one trailer because it’s the only place Vance’s wages at the arcade can afford them.

Pearls oblivious to all that though. She’s only nine, and yeah, she’s got a bit of a sharp attitude like Billy, but she’s not really in the loop about the hardships. They all agree it’s best to keep her out of it.

She is witty as hell though, and in response to Vance’s sarcastic question, declares in sign, “I can’t even hear to listen.”

“That’s why your my favorite.” Vance signs quickly, just because it makes his little sister giggle when he says that kind of shit. But that makes him seem like too much of a sweet big brother, and that’s just not him. He insists.

So he blares the horn since Pearl can’t hear it anyways to be disturbed by it, though his siblings still in the trialer, now nine minutes late, clearly need the reminder. He rolls the passenger side window down too, “Shitbirds 1, 2, and 3, get your sorry asses out here now!”

He’ll apologize to Mr. Munson later for all the noise.

Max shows her face first in response to his calling, rolling her eyes to make it known just how inconveniencing having to be on time is for her. Ever the ray of sunshine, she probably learned that from her brothers. Not Jason Lee though. He’s the actual, unironic embodiment of cheeriness, no matter what.

Though Max makes an example of just how not cheery she is with her sarcasm, “Geez, you can stop your tantrum now, you big grouch.”

After two years of this- of crying his eyes out in this very car because he thought he was doing a shitty job of being the adult, of getting in fights and sitting them all down at their three legged, wobbly ass dining table to apologize, of sleeping with a crook in his back because the hard floor is the only place for him with Max and Pearl sharing a room, and the twins taking the couch and the chair- Vance can handle Max’s morning bad moods.

“Yeah, well not until your asshole brothers make their grand appearance for the day.”

Conveniently just then, Pearl taps the back of Vance’s headrest to get his attention, signing to him with enthusiasm, “Here comes Jason!”

He looks sheepish, from the tiniest red tint to his face and the awkward shape of his shoulders. Despite being just as stubborn as the rest of them, he’s more calm and more concerned with order. So that look only means bad things, and bad things, right now, translate into getting another call from the school about the Hargrove-Scott and Mayfield kids never making it on time.

Vance doesn’t like to be a stern guardian, really he doesn’t give two shits what his siblings are up to, but the last damn thing he needs is them getting taken away from their family over a couple of missed alarms. He’s gotta get to the bottom of that look, as Jason buckles in, “Where’s your idiot brother?”

Jason meets his brothers eye, but looks ever guilty, forcing an exhausted sounding chuckle, “About that… He said he doesn’t want to go today.”

[passivenovember]

hii I’m not sure if u do requests but would u ever do a hurt/comfort fic where Steve has an ed and Billy finds out? thank youuu

Of course! my asks are always open

(warnings for: eating disorders, unhealthy coping mechanisms, heavy angst)

--

If he’s being honest with himself, it doesn’t start because he wants to be skinny. It turns into that, maybe. Grows teeth.

Transitions from a clever way to get through the last stretch toward earning his business degree, when his schedule spares about five seconds a night to kiss his boyfriend before passing out.

Because, really, the math is simple. Focus tested.

If Steve skips a meal, he’ll have invented twenty extra minutes to study for exams. If he packs a peeled clementine for lunch and eats it on his walk across campus, he can carve out a nap before working the graveyard shift rewinding tapes under the sordid, temperamental gaze of Keith the Geek.

He feels good. Powerful and ancient, like father time. Invincible.

So it’s not about beauty. Not about feeling empty inside, not about changing how the world sees him or how he sees himself.

Not at first.

Steve feels like he has a handle on it. Maybe that’s his first mistake.

He doesn’t know when it becomes something else. Maybe it’s the mirror, that does it.

One morning he looks at himself and sees what all the buzz was about in high school. His stomach is lean and muscular, his hair thick and soft and “dear diary,” worthy, and.

Billy sneaks up behind him and tacks a soft, mint-scented kiss to the little strip of muscle behind his ear. Billy says he looks beautiful.

Steve isn’t smart enough to realize that Billy didn’t mean now. That he wasn’t talking about the results, the aching need to stuff himself into a cookie cut, but Steve applies his own meeting. Points his own fingers.

It’s not fair, to put that on Billy, but.

Steve becomes obsessed.

Suddenly it’s not about creating time, it’s about removing computation. Cutting things out and rearranging his skin until his body isn’t something he just has to deal with, anymore, but something he loves. Desperately, like a crystal tiara.

Steve feels like one of those Real Life stories in Cosmo magazine about girls who want to trim off a couple of inches so they can look good for their prom date. Who weigh themselves and swallow gallons of water so they won’t feel like a liar when dinner steams hot under amber light–

“You sure you don’t want anything from Rice Bowl?”

Steve looks up from his Foundations of Business textbook, shocked out of his thoughts so quick he’s sure his hair must be on fire. “Yeah, no. I’m okay.” He says, ducking back into page 373,

He’s read it four times.

Billy tugs a beanie onto his head, frowning. “You sure, baby?”

“I already said I didn’t–”

“It’s just,” Billy says, walking close enough that his snow boots disappear into the folds of Steve’s textbook through the glass tabletop.

He’s fidgeting. Nervous, cagey like a trapped bird.

Steve rubs both fists into his eyes and peers up at him. Waits, because Billy’s mouth is working around silent, heavy consonants and syllables. Like he’s trying to arrange the words so they won’t leave a mark when they fall out.

“It’s just that you haven’t had any lo-mien in a couple of months,” Billy says on the exhale.

His cheeks are pink. Steve shrugs. Crosses his arms over his chest. “Bullshit, we had it a few days ago.”

“You didn’t want anything then, either—“

“Listen, I’ve got to formulate this ground plan by Monday,” Steve says. He knows his words sting. Knows they’ll leave a mark, dipped in glass as they are, but. “It’s really important that I stay focused. I need to ace this dissertation if I want–”

“--To land an upper-level marketing job and pay for that trip to France, baby, I know.” Billy finishes. He turns away from the table, hands disappearing into the front of his winter coat, like maybe he’s scratching a hole through his chest.

Steve thinks he might be, the way he’s shivering.

Billy yanks the beanie off his head and pulls a chair out from the table, folding down easy. Like a house of cards.

Steve knows he’s been found out. Knows he’s been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs that disappear into the forest so that he’d be able to find his way out of this when he hits that next road marker. Graduation, ten more pounds, fifteen more pounds–

He never thought, even for a moment, that those clues might lead Billy to him.

That he might deflate, withering like a punctured balloon when Billy puts his textbook to the side and says, “Tell me how I can help you. Please, just. Let me help.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Three

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Manipulation, Anxiety

Word Count: 2.6K

A/n: Part three nowwww. I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’m not sure how often I’ll be posting but I hope it’s more frequently than im doing now. Anywho, here you go, and I hope you all have a great night!

Madness Masterlist

Bad Dream Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

The record player in the corner of the spare bedroom plays softly, the soothing voice of Billie Holiday filling your ears as your eyes skim over the room, lips pursed.

Although it isn’t ideal, having a project does make the time go by faster.

Just as you’re deciding where you want the crib to go, soft feet pad into the room, Sarah’s arms coming up to your leg.

“Mommy, why are you in here?” You glance down at her, one hand coming to ruffle her hair.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” She frowns, looking up at you. “Then why are you in here?”

You raise your eyebrows, a smile growing on your face at her sass.

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you, missy?” She nods, putting her hands on her hips proudly.

“Yes, I do.” You roll your eyes, grabbing her hand and ushering her out of the room and down the stairs.

“C’mon. Let’s get you a snack.” Her mind is instantly occupied by what she wants to eat and as you’re rummaging around in the pantry, she’s climbing up onto the barstool.

“Your father should be home in a few hours, then maybe you can convince him to order pizza, just until we go grocery shopping.” You look at the nearly empty pantry with your lips pursed, grabbing some crackers and shaking them onto a plate for you and her to share.

“Why did we move out here with daddy?” She asks, making you freeze for a moment. You flounder for an answer but she shoots out another question, saving you from coming up with an excuse.

“Why didn’t you tell me that daddy was coming to pick us up?” That one you’ve thought about.

“I don’t know, honey. I guess it just never came up. And I didn’t know if or when he would come home from work.” She nods, taking a cracker and chewing it thoughtfully, swallowing before asking another question.

“Why do you look sad whenever daddy’s around?” That one catches you off guard even more than the first one did, and you cough twice, trying to gather your thoughts.

“I-I’m not sad, baby. I’m just trying to get used to living with him again, that’s all.” She hums, seemingly pleased with the answer.

A few minutes of silent eating go by before you find yourself wanting to ask her something.

“Sarah,” you begin, waiting until she looks up at you to continue.

When her sparkling blue eyes meet yours, you lower your voice slightly.

“Do you like living here with your dad?” Her face lights up and you have your answer before she speaks.

“I do! I really like living here and Morgan’s my best friend and I’m happy to have daddy back! And I like that we get to see Aunty Nat more and I like Uncle Bucky too!” You nod slowly, pursing your lips.

“So do you want to stay here, then?” She nods eagerly, a smile on her face.

“I really do! I love it here! I’m so happy daddy came to pick us up!” You let out a shaky breath and nod, your one chance at leaving being crushed.

Steve treats his daughter right and she’s happy here. You can’t very well take away her happiness and replace it with longing and instability. Not when she’s been your pillar during those four years away from Him.

She deserves some semblance of peace. And you’re willing to sacrifice yours if it means that she can get hers.

~*~

“Daddy!” Sarah runs to the front door and intercepts her father as soon as she can see him, jumping up into his arms excitedly.

“Hi, baby!” He hugs her tightly, transferring her to one arm effortlessly and walking into the house.

“How was your day at school?” He asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“It was good! Can we get pizza for dinner?” He raises his brows, eyes fluttering around the house in search of you.

“Well, we’re gonna have to ask your mom about that, okay?” She nods, shimmying out of his grip and up the stairs.

He sets his work bag down on the counter, following the little blond girl up the stairs and smiling when he sees you in the spare bedroom, a look of concentration on your face and a pretty blue dress on your figure.

“Hi, honey,” he whispers, his arms wrapping around your frame.

“Hi,” you murmur, trying to remember the measurements of the dresser as you inspect the bedroom.

“Pizza!” Sarah exclaims, tugging on the bottom of your dress.

“Oh yeah.” You turn around to face Steve, eyes meeting his for a brief moment before falling to his shoulder.

“Could we order pizza tonight? W-we don’t have much for groceries but I can make a list and we could pick some up tomorrow morning? I just- it’s Friday and b-before...” you take a deep breath, fighting tears as memories of life before start to fill your mind.

“Hey, Sarah? Could you do me a favour please, princess?” Steve glances down at his daughter, sensing that this may be a conversation best had in privacy.

“Yes, daddy?”

“Could you go downstairs and see if there are any snacks that we have that you want? Or any that you want us to buy for you?” She nods eagerly, running out of the room and down the stairs, leaving you alone with her father.

You take another deep breath then explain yourself in depth.

“Friday’s used to be pizza night for her and me. We’d order pizza and watch a movie. Nat or... or my dad would come over too but... we haven’t had a pizza night since coming here and I think it would bring her more comfort and more normality.” He eyes you for a moment.

“It would bring her that or you that?” You swallow hard, eyes cast down to the floor.

“Either answer is valid, darling. I want you to be happy here and if we need to make pizza Friday’s a thing, then we’ll make them a thing. I just want the two of you to be happy and healthy, okay?” You sniffle then nod, your bottom lip wobbling as anxiety courses through your veins.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You squeeze your eyes shut as a tear slides down your cheek.

“I-I’m scared,” you whisper, terrified to confess this but knowing he won’t do anything with Sarah so close by.

“Of what?” He asks gently, trying to coax it out of you.

“Of you.” His fingers stop their tracing on your waist and he stiffens.

“I-I don’t want you to hurt me. And I know I can’t leave. I can’t run b-because I tried once and you found me. And Sarah loves it here and I don’t want to deprive her of that, of you, but I’m so terrified of you.” He’s quiet for a long moment before wrapping you up in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you for telling me,” he whispers. He’s not angry like you thought he’d be. No, he’s supportive and gentle, and you feel more tears fall from your eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Not like I did before. I love you, (Y/n). And I need you. Sarah needs you. I’d never...” He trails off, swallowing hard and shaking his head.

“You’re mine. I want you to do things a certain way, yes, but I’m not going to hurt you the way that I did before, okay? As long as you stay here and you behave. You've done pretty well so far, but I know it’s gonna take time. I just hope that when the baby comes you don't go back to your old ways.” His hand finds your tummy, rubbing gently.

“I’m all alone during the day, Steve. I don’t have any friends o-or any family. You’ve got me locked in this big house all day and I can’t even access the cutlery. It’s hard not to feel like a prisoner when you treat me like one.” Anger flashes across his features for a moment and you tug away from him.

“Just like it’s gonna take you some time to trust me again, it’s gonna take me time to trust you. You’ve hurt me before, (Y/n). A lot. I told you that I won’t treat you the way I did at first and I mean that, but if you even try to take my daughter from me, I’ll stop you. I’ll use whatever force necessary.” You swallow hard and nod, your fingers trembling.

“Now, you go make a list with Sarah while I shower. When I’m finished we’ll order pizza and watch a movie, okay?” You nod again, this one more reluctant.

You go to move past him but his hand grips your wrist, halting you.

“I love you, (Y/n). And I’ll do anything to keep you in my life. But you know that already, don’t you?” You glance over at him, the fire in his eyes making your heart race in your chest.

“Mommy! Is applesauce in the fridge?” Sarah’s voice saves you from having to answer, and you hurry down the stairs.

Steve stands in the spare bedroom, thoughts filling his mind, a deep voice whispering that you need to be punished.

He shakes the thought from his mind and walks to his bedroom, ready to take a shower then relax with his family.

~*~

Beauty and the Beast plays softly on the TV, two almost empty pizza boxes are on the coffee table and the three of you are on the couch.

You’re curled up against his side, if only to be able to watch as your daughter sleeps peacefully in his lap, her mouth open and soft snores falling from her lips.

You’re not sure what comes over you, whether it be fear from your conversation earlier or you wanting to get on his good side, but you speak.

“She says she loves being here, living with you and going to school with Morgan,” you whisper, your eyes trained on your daughter as Steve looks over at you.

“She uh, she wants to stay, more than anything in the world. And even if I had the option, I don’t think I’d take her from here. I... I couldn’t do something like that to her.” Your eyes slowly meet Steve’s and he smiles softly, understanding the meaning behind your words.

You wouldn’t leave him even if you could.

“I’m glad. I love having you both here. Everything’s been so much better since you guys have been back in my life.” You take a deep breath then turn back to the tv, leaning your head against his shoulder slowly.

His arm winds around your figure, hugging you closer to him with a smile.

“It’s all going to be okay, honey. I promise. Everything will be okay.”

~*~

The weeks pass in a blur of dresses, cooking, and reading.

Every day is so much the same that it’s become painful. You’d kill for a new book, a job, fuck, even a better project than the one you have now.

“Well why don’t you order the furniture?” Steve asks when you bring it up to him one Sunday morning.

“I... I don't wanna order anything until we know for sure that I’m pregnant.”

He knows that if you aren’t pregnant already, you will be within a few days. The fertility pills he’s been giving you should’ve already taken effect, but if not he’s more than willing to keep trying for a baby.

“And I don’t wanna pick out colours or anything yet, and if we get the furniture now we’re just gonna have to move it when we paint the room, so it seems like the least logical thing to do,” you explain, fingers twisting around your mug of tea.

“I think it’s prime time to start planting. You could start a little garden out back? Give you something to take care of and whatnot,” he suggests, watching as you purse your lips.

It would be nice to have fresh vegetables and flowers. And getting dirty’s never really bothered you.

“Alright. But I don’t know what grows well out here. Back... where we were before, we could grow lots of things. I don’t know what flourishes out here.” He walks around the kitchen island and takes your hand, leading you to the couch.

“We’ll look it up, and then I’ll grab some seed and you can start the garden tomorrow. How’s that sound?” You nod, sitting down beside him.

“Could you maybe pick up some books on gardening too? I’m not the best and I want this to turn out well.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Of course, anything for you, honey.”

True to his word, Steve provides you with seeds, gardening supplies, and multiple books on gardening.

You start your garden the very next day, spending hours outside in the sun, trying to get your little garden to look like the ones in the pictures.

It takes all week to get it going properly, but you’re proud of your work, bringing Sarah out after school on friday and showing her all the different plants that will grow.

Now you’re sitting at the dining room table, soft music playing while your fingers fidget anxiously and your mind flutters to your daughter.

“She’s alright, darling. Tony and Pepper will take good care of her, I promise. And they know to call at the first sign of trouble.” You take a deep breath and nod, pushing the food on your plate around with your fork as anxiety courses through you.

It’s your baby girl’s first sleepover.

“I just... I’ve never really been away from her. Every night we read a bedtime story and she gives me a hug and two kisses goodnight. What if she has a nightmare, Steve? W-what if she wakes up and she’s scared because she doesn’t know where she is o-or where we are? What if-”

“Honey,” he cuts you off, a gentle smile on his face.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. This is just as good for you as it is for her. You’ve got separation anxiety. But it’s all gonna be okay, I promise.” You take a couple more deep breaths, fighting tears.

You miss your daughter.

“Stand up,” Steve orders.

Your eyes flash up to him, nervous for a completely new reason now as you slowly rise to your feet.

He walks around the table, eyes unreadable until he stands in front of you.

The record player whispers Paul Anka, and for a moment that’s all you can hear is the sound of his voice singing out softly.

Steve takes one of your hands gently in his, the other hand finding your waist and tugging you softly against his body.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs. It’s not a command like you thought it would be, no. It’s a request.

A hardly whispered plea for you to dance with him, and you don’t have it in you to deny him.

You’re tense as you nod your agreement, shoulders tight and back stiff as he slowly starts to sway the two of you to the music.

His hand is so gentle on the small of your back, holding you so tenderly that you can’t help but relax in his hold, your tense muscles loosening up.

You slowly lean your head against his chest, closing your eyes and basking in the comfort of being held so softly by him.

He lets out a small breath of relief, a smile tugging at his lips as he hugs you even closer to his body, lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before his chin rests atop it, his own eyes fluttering closed.

He leads the dance, and for a beautifully perfect moment, you feel comfortable and at home in his arms.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 04

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: hello!! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as i dive more into bucky’s past. italics in this work symbolise a flashback in case anyone’s confused. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

The entrance hall of the Barnes household was pilled up with people. Between his mum barking orders left to right and caterers bringing food in and out, the once silent room turned into a busy crossroads which meant James had retreated back to his room. He was sat down in his bed, cashmere black suit on and hair pushed back, Dead Souls opened on top his legs. He was lost in between the small black letters printed on the yellowing paper, so lost that the sound of his window opening went by him until a loud thump woke him up from his literary daze. Bucky looked up to see his younger sister, sat on the floor of his bedroom by the window with her dress partially on and hair messy due to the windy weather outside. He sighed, closing his book and putting it off to the side.

    - Can’t you climb into your own bedroom? - Bucky got up from bed, leaning down to help her back onto her feet.

    - Yours is closer. - she brushed the dirt off her baby pink dress picked by their mother. - Shouldn’t you be downstairs?

    - Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom? 

    - Touche. - she pointed. - Can you not tell mum? She’ll freak out if she discovers that I went out on dad’s big day. 

    - Go on, I’ll keep mum occupied while you sort out that bird’s nest hair. 

    - Thank you! - she smiled, giving him a short hug. - What am I gonna do when you go to Princeton? Who’s gonna cover for me?

    - I guess you’ll just have to form an alliance with the maids.

Y/N and Bucky were silent, barely speaking to each other if even looking into each other’s eyes. She merely remained there in her operatic costume, the corset doing the best of jobs at enhancing her female features and almost making her look like a femme fatale out of a classical movie in rich red and green fabrics decorated with what he guessed where heavy metal gold pieces resembling precious jewels and golden rings. He did not know which production they were putting on, he hadn’t even heard her sing before but she looked like she belonged in that stage, like she would have been showered in praise the moment the spotlight grazed her. 

She paced around the living room not exactly sure what to do, the beads which made up her skirt and would suddenly peak to show her legs making a slight rustling noise as her eyes studied the book shelf which was filled with tons and tons of books from the classics to mere economy books. Maybe she could read them whenever the tension between of them wasn’t so apparent. She couldn’t help but sometimes look at the badly fixed window and wonder if she could make it, maybe when he wasn’t looking, maybe when he was sleeping yet looking at him; tall, muscular, fast, definetely much stronger than her, she knew that even if she managed to get outside, he would easily get her back. Her mind battled her positive side as she wondered if this was it, if this was home now. Suddenly, her old flat no longer seemed old and she would give everything away if only she could go back, back to being told to do errands that really did not concern her, to stepping on bobby pins laid on the ground, to way too strong makeup which looked ridiculous in proper daylight. She would give everything, if she could go back to what her life had been. 

The man whose name he hadn’t even dignified himself to tell her yet was sat on one of the high chairs by the kitchen with his eyes trained on her. She briskly turned around, arms crossed under her chest with an almost child like pout of someone who had just been punished. In reality, I’m the one who’s being punished here, he thought to himself.

     - You could tell me your name. - she said, not looking into his eyes, instead rubbing her worn out ballet shoes against his hard floor. 

     - You don’t need to know my name. - he was quiet yet imposing. Y/N could not deny he seemed to have a strong presence despite barely raising his voice. It was almost magnetic as if he was made to be looked at, yet she felt he didn’t want to be seen. 

     - What if I need to call out for you? 

     - I would know. There’s no one else here, is it?

Y/N did not reply to this, instead rolling her eyes and sitting down on the couch. There was not much to do in the small one bedroom apartment other than pace around, eat and watch television. Her hand flew over to the remote, pointing it at the TV to turn it on which opened on the news channel. She guessed this was the way she had of now knowing what was happening outside the four walls she was being held captive in. There wasn’t much happening and even if it was, all the local news could talk about was about the upcoming mayoral election. It was a circus with advertisements and rumours flying around about each and every candidate and while it was almost painfully enjoyable to see men over thirty acting like gossip mean girls in school, everyone knew who was gonna win. 

She’d always been told that behind every great man, there’s a great woman and in this particular election it couldn’t be anymore true. The favourite candidate to win, Robert Moore, also known as Bobbie, was married to an senator’s daughter but not just any senator, Senator Barnes. She was too young to remember his policies or even his public persona, yet from what she knew, he had been a very well liked and well respected Senator, coming from a prominent family and building an even more prominent family. Being married to Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes-Moore, was a one way ticket to a good career in politics. The two stood in the television screen, side by side in an almost JFK and Jackie Kennedy fashion with sunny smiles looking like the picture perfect Americana couple. It seemed all his ads showed him, his wife and their new born baby. High school sweethearts, it seemed.

    - Are you gonna watch that the whole day? - she turned her head around, looking at his annoyed expression, whiskey glass in hand. 

    - They look good together. 

    - It’s a circus. - he snickered, sitting by her side. 

    - What are you? An anarchist? - those words flew out of her mouth without any filter, mostly out of nuisance. - Her father was a great politician and he is young and likeable.  

     - Young and likeable ... sounds like great political traits. 

     - What do you know about politics?

     - What do you know about politics? Do they have a crash course in politics at whatever company you were in? 

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up to listen to the broadcaster tell the love story of the future mayor and his wife. Her face softened as she heard what was probably a highly modified version of the actual truth yet she couldn’t help but slightly smile at the idea of it. They seemed in love and as someone who had a degree in pretending to be in love while singing, it warmed her heart to see it. She liked that idea, the idea of Ms and Mrs Americana, the idea of having someone to lean in. Well, she liked the idea of someone. Sure, maybe the man whose name she still didn’t know and was starting to believe was never going to learn was right, it was a circus, all elections are but she couldn’t help but be pulled by the myth of it, by the we against the world mentality no matter how morally wrong it was. 

She continued to watch the coverage of the election run as the man next to her got up from the couch to pick up a phone call. Her hearing slightly moved towards what he was doing, mind always thinking of escaping but even though he was talking on the phone, his gaze was trained of her as if she were his prey. He mumbled something on the phone before turning it off and moving his eyes to text someone yet after that his eyes were on her once more. 

    - Try not to escape for the next hour.

    - Do you have a nameless anarchy convention to attend?

    - Billy is coming to watch over you. No funny business. 

    - Will. - she corrected him. - He doesn’t like being called Billy. 

    - As long as you don’t pull a mission impossible on him, I will call him whatever you want. 

Will didn’t take long to arrive, dressed in a tennis-like outfit as if he had been pulled away from tennis which sounded like something he’d do. Bucky exchanged a few words with him before leaving the two of them together. He trusted Billy, or Will, was smart enough not to let her escape or run away. God, he didn’t even want to think about what John would do to him if she escaped, much less what he would do to her if she escaped. He made his drive to John’s condo in fifth avenue, parking his bike somewhere before making his way up. The condo was always weirdly filled with chatter talk yet he could see no people, it was as if the ghosts of the people he had taken out followed him in his own home and Bucky couldn’t say he pitied him. After all, he had his own ghosts too. 

He looked into John’s office where he was sat in the couch, the coverage of the election run on the television on low volume. John’s eyes immediately found Bucky’s figure looming at the entrance, never really entering, just standing behind the line which separated the hall from the office. 

     - How’s the roomie? - he motioned his hand for him to come in. - Still pretty?

     - What do you need?

     - I just got an invitation to a fundraiser. Zemo’s going so I want you to go. 

     - I can’t, I have her to watch over Y/N. She’s not very keen on remaining in the flat.

    - Chain her up for all I care. It’s in two weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m there by myself with Zemo. Besides it’s your sister’s fundraiser, I always love to see Rebecca. 

    - She’s not gonna be there. - his jaw locked. - A fundraiser for the mob? It’s mostly free alcohol and networking with them not showing up. 

    - Maybe you should bring your roomie. She’s pretty and if anything I’m sure she can sing and if not maybe she can entertain in another form. 

    - The NYPD is probably looking for her, it’s not wise ...

    - Do you make the rules? - John interrupted him, leaning against the couch with arms crossed. - You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules, soldat. 

    - I just don’t think ...

    - You don’t think. - he interrupted him once more. - This election is important and since I do not have the right person here to get ahead, I will make do with what we have. I don’t give a fuck about what you do when you’re at your flat but she is mine. She is my get out of jail card. Are we clear, soldat?

    - Yes. 

    - You can go now. - he dismissed him. Bucky turned around, eyes open wide yet emotionless face as if he were disconnected from his own consciousness. He guessed it was for the best to remain disconnected, to not know what was going on.

He drove himself back home, standing alone at night looking at his flat; the window still broken while the lights were flickering. He thought about running off, starting his bike and running off into the night and just drive until the tank was empty but he couldn’t. He had strings, strings which kept him tied to where he was right now. He guessed that now she was another string keeping him here. 

Bucky sighed as he walked back to his flat, opening the door to a rather serene sight. Will was by the kitchen watching the football game while Y/N was laid across the couch, book in hand which he recognised as one of his old ones. Her hair was different, she probably had taken off her wig and for the first time since those few minutes in the costume room. It looked soft, framing her face and getting in front of her eyes as she herself got lost in the room. Will excused himself, leaving just as he noticed Bucky before he could be yelled at by using his television. Yet again, Y/N and Bucky were alone in that small flat. She looked up from the book and at him before returning to read.

He left her with the book, walking to his bedroom which was probably now more hers than his to grab one of trousers and hoodies before returning back to the living room. Still reading. At least she wasn’t trying to break any more windows. He put the hoodie and trousers by her side, turning off the television as more screams for the football match came through. 

   - You can change into those. - he pointed at the clothing, getting her attention as she closed the book. - Those beads can’t be comfortable. 

   - Oh 

   - The bathroom’s there. - he pointed at one of the few doors in the flat. - You can shower too, there’s towels. 

   - Thank you. - she grabbed the things he had put out for her before leaving him in the living room by himself.

And then it was just him once more, alone, tied to this city which screamed everyone’s name but his.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying​ @buckyswillows​ @blossomslibrary​ @juliesland​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically​ @red-head011​ @poisonous00​ 

[annlarimer]

So, see this tree? It's an American music history tree. It’s in front of a Target parking lot now, but it used to be next to a chicken restaurant called The Drumstick. This was back when 48th Street was lined with restaurants instead of strip malls. (To the right of the pawn shop across the street was a Shakey's Pizza, to tell you how long ago this was.)

  On their first national tour, which I imagine involved sleeping in a VW Microbus, REM's agent booked them into The Drumstick, which he assumed from the name must be a music venue. So this weirdass band out of some Georgia college town nobody had ever heard of played Murrican New Wave while Midwesterners ate their chicken.

I mean, it’s not a great story, but I see the tree every time I buy groceries. So now you have to see it too.

The only other local music history* I know is that Downtown, on a now demolished bit of 11th Street, there was a dive of a Mexican restaurant called something like La Paloma, but not really. Its exterior was plastered an alarming shade of orange, but its food was cheap and absolutely delicious. It was still going when I was in college and I saw a student production of El Grande de Coca Cola there that nearly made me puke with laughter. The cast was about five feet away. Remember that bit.

Now, I am the last of five children, and spent much of my childhood being hauled around in my siblings' cars, because Why don't you take Annie with you? I was little trouble except for the time Billy took me to see 2001 at the drive-in, I got scared of the monkeys, and barfed in his car. I also suspect Mom thought they would drive more safely, since killing your baby sister because you ran a stop sign was a bad look, and would be less likely to shoot up the Mary Jane or whatever they did back then.** So I knew most every street in town by the time I was in kindergarten. I promise this is going somewhere.

One day, when I'm like six or seven, I'm in the back of Mom's car with Kim and her boyfriend David (later her husband after some obligatory age 20s drama), and we go past La Paloma, and its tiny sign says:

TONIGHT BOB DYLAN

And I don't know much about music at that age, but I think, He's like really famous, isn't he? I see him on those funky-tasting Columbia Record Club stamps that come in the Sunday paper. Y’know, with musicians like Melanie and The Singing Nun. Then I think, Nahhhhh, it must be a different Bob Dylan, because any musician whose name I knew absolutely would not be playing in Lincoln, let alone at a restaurant even a 7-year-old can tell is kinda sketchy. And Kim and Dave aren't saying anything, and they’re adults and therefor KNOW EVERYTHING. So it must be some other Bob Dylan who lives here or in Omaha or something. I picture an adult in a brown accountant suit, possibly doing shitty comedy like my parents watch on Ed Sullivan.

Maybe 40 years later I'm reading some book on music and it mentions the time Bob Dylan got sick of giant audiences, so he went across the US, stopping at little holes in the wall and asking if he could maybe play? 

So that is the story of how my older siblings have never learned that they could have seen Bob fucking Dylan from five feet away for maybe four bucks if they had been paying fucking attention. I will never tell them. YOU MUST NEVER TELL THEM. 

*Neil Hefti, jazz trumpeter and composer of the Batman theme, was Nebraskan but from a different town. Yes, THAT Batman theme.

**Two of my other siblings once tried to bake dried banana peels to smoke. I may have overestimated the intelligence of those born a decade+ before I was.

[neonponders]

Surprise! Here’s a part 2 for my fic, Deeper Than Skin ~ read on ao3 •

Thank you SO MUCH @edith-moonshadow for donating to Harringrove for Palestine, AND letting me indulge in my fic some more. 

👠 👠 👠 👠 👠 👠

Billy’s thumb pressed along Steve’s arch, holding the pressure for a few seconds as he went along . . .

He peeked up at the sound of ocean-swaying breaths at the head of the bed. As if he could hear the exact moment Steve fell into REM sleep, clutching Billy’s latest gift to his chest.

An elephant ear leaf plushie. It was half the size of Steve, and it’s heart-shape tucked under his chin to pillow his cheek perfectly. The soft micro-fleece behaved like crushed velvet, the light absorbing inside the dark, unsettled fibers where Steve touched it.

Billy had gotten very good at choosing gifts for him.

Steve’s apartment was slowly filling up with Billy’s tokens of affection. The window seat had become a shelf for Steve’s shoe boxes; only three so far, but Billy intended to get him a proper shoe rack, or renovate his closet

Or have Steve move into his place. Billy wanted nothing more in the world. To get home to Steve slumped on the couch, immediately complaining of incongruent television plots as if Billy had never left the room. To see Steve’s shirts and clutter in their closet despite Steve being gone for work. To put his shoe collection on display in any room Steve wanted, so he could live in the open with his interests, instead of walking laps in their closet.

Not all of his gifts were expensive. That proved the trick. The key to Steve’s locked tight heart. Most were certainly pricey, but once Billy knew what he liked, what he constituted as worth it, then he couldn’t help himself.

A coffee table book of The New Yorker’s covers, spreads, and topmost articles throughout the 20th century. Steve stared at that thing for hours.

The elephant ear pillow clutched to Steve’s chest now, among other plant cushions. Steve claimed he couldn’t keep anything alive, so Billy gave him a pink and blue sedum succulent, a purple and green echeveria, and a monstera leaf. He now lay in his garden, sound asleep despite Billy’s rolling a cold tennis ball around his heel.

It was dangerous, this bruised ache in his chest.

Even with Steve right here, Billy felt sore with affection. The desire to wrap an arm around Steve’s waist was ever present, to pull their bodies flush together, or to tuck himself into Steve’s chest and never leave.

This ravenous greed dulled with Steve nearby, soothed with Steve happy and content, but Billy knew he had to be patient. Steve sometimes retreated inside himself, behaving as if Billy were already one step out the door. He had no idea what power he wielded over Billy.

He eased Steve’s slippers onto his feet and returned the tennis ball to the freezer. He put some of the dishes and pans from the drying rack back in the cabinets. He straightened the rug underneath the coffee table. Tidying. As self-sufficient as Steve lived, Billy had picked up quickly enough that his outward affections were done through actions.

He liked making dinner with Billy at home. He even coerced Billy into the first grocery store he’d stepped into in years.

Steve enjoyed pulling Billy onto his chest to watch a movie. Billy liked that too, even though he wished Steve didn’t stuff his utility invoices into the kitchen utensil drawer before Billy arrived.

They were both strong personalities who valued control, but Billy had learned such a thing came in different mediums. Steve didn’t like the leash of money. “Don’t collar me in diamonds. I’m not a poodle,” he’d once said.

Billy did not take kindly to commands. To exist like a bull guided by the ring in his nose.

Yet here they both were, Steve slowly allowing Billy to furnish his interests, and kissing Billy’s cheek when he reluctantly accepted the task of chopping onions.

Billy sat on the bed and rubbed his arm. If anything, Steve only fell deeper inside his slumber. Slowly, Billy lifted him out by planting kisses along his hairline. All at once, Steve emerged with a shake of his head, as if to swat Billy off before the chuckle in his chest made Steve moan, “Bhh…lly?”

He slanted his arm across Steve’s body, pressing his hand into the bed. “Hi, baby. I’m heading out. I should be back next Friday.”

Steve’s full, parted lips twitched with a puzzled grimace. “Huh?”

“I’m going out of town.”

One of Steve’s eyelids hung lower over his groggy eyes. Billy thought it looked cute. “You wait till I’m half-asleep to tell me?”

Billy huffed a laugh, but it faded quickly. “I told you during dinner. I asked you to come, but you said you couldn’t get the vacation days.”

Steve’s eyes sagged closed in a long blink. He sniffed loudly and rubbed a palm over his nose while he shifted for better attentiveness. “I can’t get vacation days with only a twenty-four hour notice.”

“There was something about sick days from two jobs not aligning for an extended vacation,” Billy recalled stiffly.

Steve did not respond well to the bitterness. “I’m not my own boss. If I’d had more time, I could’ve done a long weekend—”

“I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

That left Steve’s mouth open while he shifted to sit up more on the pillows. “You didn’t say that during dinner.”

It should’ve been some consolation, Steve’s being upset at such a time frame. Two weeks apart was hardly unbearable. For regular people. For Billy, it only confirmed his distaste for Steve’s unrelenting schedule.

“Now you want to go?”

Steve’s eyes hardened as much as they could for being freshly disturbed from sleep. “It was never about not wanting to go. I literally can’t without being thrown off the payroll.”

“You work two jobs.”

Steve’s eyes wandered, as if searching for his meaning. “Yeah?”

Billy didn’t want to talk about this the night before he left but his frustration won out. “You don’t have to work two jobs. You know that, don’t you?”

He could see something wilt behind Steve’s face. “What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Steve,” he sighed, lifting off his hand to sit on his own. “You know I don’t mind paying for things.”

“You’ve made that clear,” Steve returned stiffly.

Billy pointed turquoise eyes at him. “Money is meant to be spent. Why won’t you let me spend it on you?”

Those eyes locked on the muscles in Steve’s jaw clenching. Steve could feel those irises on him, dissecting him. He wondered if Billy saw his mother’s closet. More like a bank vault. Full of insurances for the day she finally saw fit to drop her husband and all of his betrayals, all of his business blunders that she was tired of dishing a sapphire out for to cover the losses.

An ironic thing, Mr. Harrington’s greatest business scheme: apologizing with luxurious things. Marrying a woman smarter than himself. Maybe that’s why Steve had sought out Nancy all those years ago. Why he loved Robin’s company and conversation. He did feel safe in strong women’s company. But their safety was hard earned and shrewdly won.

Respect how a woman spends her money, Stevie. Even if you don’t know where it comes from.

Sweetheart, you’ll never understand what it is to be a woman in a man’s world.

I love your daddy as much as he infuriates me beyond belief. But where I come from, nobody is handsome enough. Nobody is wealthy enough. A Rolex is a man’s prideful status symbol. A woman’s bags are her divorce lawyer’s payments. A man’s car is the steed to a shining knight. A woman’s diamond necklace is her first apartment out of an unsafe home.

Am I really just a trust fund kid? Steve had been brazen enough to ask. Another diamond in his mother’s closet.

She had stroked his cheek, raked her fingers through his hair and around his ear before pinching his earlobe in that way she did. Like she wanted him to keep looking right at her. Don’t turn your head.

Anyone who treats you like a trust fund for money or a good time is plastic, baby.

She hadn’t taught him how to navigate this, though. Maybe if he’d been a daughter, he’d have gotten that lesson. How to not be ensnared by money. How to keep wealth as a key to a cage.

But Steve only knew the cage. Had grown up in it. Had to face heartbreak and loneliness to break out of his gilded bars.

He did not judge his mother for relying on his father. As she’d said, she came from a different world with a different mentality. But Steve couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t meet all of his father’s caveats. Had too much fun being broke with Robin to desire gilded masks and grey grey grey grey grey suits.

A warm hand touched his arm. “I don’t like it when you do that,” Billy said. “Go somewhere I can’t reach.”

Steve’s hand overlapped his. He hoped it came across as encouraging instead of farewell. “Get your work done. There’s no point in me taking a vacation if you’re working the whole time.”

It didn’t work. Billy’s features stiffened, far from pleased.

And when he left the apartment, Steve felt his path like a negative space dug out of his home. Billy Hargrove had always dominated a room, but Steve was afraid of being wrung out before he left with permanence. Steve didn’t think Billy was a cage at all.

But he didn’t think he was strong enough to be a diamond in Billy’s closet.

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter one - Big Sky

Also on Ao3

Billy doesn’t give a fuck about the rodeo. 

He doesn’t care about country music, or fancy horse riding, or the beauty queens, even the bull riders. 

What he does give a fuck about it not being in his house today. 

Not when his dad was obviously itching to pick a fight. Not when Max gave him such an easy out over breakfast. 

“I saw a flyer for a rodeo. I think it’d be kinda neat.”

It was in town for four more weeks. 

And Billy could tell the second he and Max bought tickets, he was about to be spending more time than he ever fuckin’ thought he would spend at a rodeo. 

He based that on the way Max’s eyes lit up the second she stepped inside the big fairgrounds. 

Not knowing that he was right. He was about to spend a lot of time at the rodeo. 

But not for Max. 

For himself. 

And a pretty horse rider named Steve.

He didn’t see Steve that first day. 

Was too busy shelling out his own hard-earned cash to buy Max sugary funnel cakes. Sitting next to her watching the poor suckers get bucked off their pissed-off bull. 

But when Max was in the car she turned to him, the sun setting outside, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Can we come back tomorrow?”

And the tickets were dirt cheap. And Billy hates being at home. 

So they did. 

And they watched the rodeo queens. 

And the team-roping. 

But it wasn’t until the calf roping that Billy felt his heart sink. 

Because he thinks Steve Harrington might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Tall and broad, smiling like sunshine at his gorgeous black quarter horse, patting her strong neck and leading her to the entry point of the arena. 

His name was loudly announced after the event name. 

Calf roping, with our very own Steve Harrington! Steve will navigate his beautiful June into the arena, trying to rope and tie down a calf as quickly as possible!

Billy had tuned out everything but his name. 

Leaning forward on his bench seat to watch him lead June up to the starting line, give her a few more pats before swinging one leg up, heaving himself up and over her back, settling into the saddle with a grace Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. 

Steve appeared to shake himself out, leaning forward over June’s neck to speak quietly to the sleek horse, wiggling his hips a bit in the saddle. 

And then he sat back up, readying himself and waiting for the countdown. 

He was off like a fucking shot. 

Billy’s never seen anything fucking like it. 

June kicked up dirt as she thundered through the arena behind a small herd of a few calves, Steve ducked low against her neck as he led her forward, his lips moving as he spoke quietly to her, egging her on and forward. He was clinging to her for dear life, his legs straining as he was tossed up and down in the saddle. 

And then he let go of her reins, one hand reaching for the rope on his belt. 

And it was the most hick shit he’s ever seen. 

This flannel-wearing cowboy on his perfect fucking horse, roping a baby fucking cow. 

He slipped the knot around it from his perch on the moving horse, lassoing it easily like that was a common skill, and with a fluid practiced movement, he tossed himself off the slowing horse, getting on one knee to tip over the calf and tie it up like it was second nature. 

And maybe it was. Performing in a show like this. 

That’s all it was, a performance. Practiced and rehearsed over and over for Steve and June. 

It was over in a blink, Steve tossing his hands up to show he was finished, and the calf didn’t break its bonds. 

The whistle blew and Steve’s time was read to the arena. Nine seconds. And apparently, nine seconds was a good time, judging by the way Steve’s raised his fists in the air, and patted June’s neck so gently. 

He mounted back on his gorgeous horse as the calf he had roped was released by a few of the rodeo workers and the next guy took his position at the starting line. 

Steve did a lap around the arena of June’s back, smiling and waving to the crowd. 

And maybe Billy just has an overactive imagination. 

Maybe his stupid gay brain was looking for something not there. 

But he could’ve sworn he saw Steve grin just a little bit brighter in his direction. 

There were a few riders after him. Competing to earn a faster score on the same track. 

But Billy didn’t give a fuck about calf roping if he wasn’t watching Steve and June. 

The sun was setting as Billy finally led Max out of the fairgrounds, one hand on the top of her head, steering her towards the Camaro. 

“So, you think we can come back next weekend” Max was giving him a big shit-eating grin, powdered sugar all done her front from the final funnel cake Billy had shelled out to buy her. 

“Don’t see why not. Get’s us outta the fuckin’ house, don’t it.”

“Plus, there are lots of good-looking cowboys, just everywhere. Did you see the guy doing the cattle roping, or whatever? He was cute .” Billy rolled his eyes. Max was just touching the age when she stopped thinking of boys as gross, saw them as cute, and whatever else she said. It also made her realize that having a gay brother apparently meant talking about nothing but boys. It made Billy wanna slam his head into the steering wheel. He grunted in response as she kept going on and on about Steve. 

Like Billy didn’t see the way his thighs gripped the sides of his horse, like he didn’t watch as he hurled himself off June to tie up the fucking calf. Like he didn’t watch him take that fucking victory lap, shit-eating grin looking like home on his pretty fucking face. 

“You gotta carry your own weight, you know that, right Shitbird? I’m talking, pay for your own damn fried shit.” He bets Susan would give him money for tickets if he acts real nice this week. 

He can’t blow all his savings at the fucking rodeo of all things this summer. He’s got plans for the wad of cash burning a hole in the shoebox in the back of his closet. 

Max huffed at him. 

“What am I supposed to do? Get a job? I’m thirteen .”

“So? Babysit or some shit. Rob an ATM. Fuck if I care. Just quit stealing all ‘a my goddamn cash for your fuckin’ funnel cakes .”

“You’re just pissed off because you didn’t try one. They’re the best. You gotta have one next week.”

“I, unlike you, care about what I put in my body.”

“Yeah, because cigarettes and beer are so much better than fried dough .”

“Whatever.” The truth is, Billy’s gotta watch what he eats. Max didn’t know him when he was prepubescent and chubby. He can’t be sitting there shoving funnel cakes in his mouth and not expect it to all go to his gut. Not like her. There’s not an ounce of fucking baby fat on her. She’s positively scrawny. If anything, the funnel cake might help her out a bit. 

“Yeah, whatever .” She huffed, slumping back in her passenger seat. “But can we come back?”

“Fuck, if you keep askin’ me, the answer’s no .”

She huffed again. She does that a whole lot when they talk. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw the way you were watching Steve race. You were practically drooling .” 

Billy clenched his jaw. 

“Was not .”

“Was too .” 

And Max had a knack of leading Billy into moments like this, childish little arguments that made him feel kinda weird inside. Made him feel kinda warm at how sibling it was. Like they hadn’t been forced together just a few years ago. 

For all his bitching, he really did like the little spit. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger asshole than she’s always accusing him of being. 

“You don’t even know what I look like when I’m really eyeing a boy, if you think that was it. Just, you know. Respected his riding.”

“ Respected his riding. Yeah ‘cause you wish he was riding-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m pushing you out of the fucking car.”

“I’m right, though.”

Billy just reached forward to turn up the radio, letting Dee Snider drown out any other awful shit Max wanted to say to him. 

Which was probably showing his hand too much. No direct answer pretty much means affirmative when it comes to Billy. And yeah, Max knows that. Judging by the way she’s cackling like a goddamn gremlin over the sound of the music. 

He just pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal, letting them fly down the highway. 

And he thought about Steve and June, thought about how fast Steve could press that girl to go. Thought about him leaning forward, flattening himself to the horse’s neck, gripping onto the reins and urging her forward, urging her faster. 

And if he thought about those strong legs wrapped around him, if he thought about what Max was about to say, Steve riding Billy like he would that fucking horse, his hips flexing as he bounces up and down, well, that’s his business. 

And the next Saturday, Susan slid him a crisp twenty-dollar bill to buy Max some lunch at the rodeo. 

They took it more seriously this time, bringing water bottles, and Max slathering thick white sunscreen on her freckled skin. 

Billy even wore shorts, some old jeans he sacrificed to the summer gods when he wore holes in the thighs and chopped pretty much in half. 

And it was kinda fun. 

He knew what to expect now. Knew the barrel racing was all women, all beautiful horses winding their way along clover-shaped tracks. He knew that the bull riding was a little more fun to watch with a shot in him, and that his fake i.d. could get him an alcohol wristband from the tent at the front.

Max sneered at him when he bought himself a beer later in the day. 

“Uh, you know you have to drive me home, right? Like, and not crash your stupid car on the way home.” 

“Fuck off. It’s one beer.”

“And also that shot earlier, and I know you have a flask.”

“Okay, what are you, the cops? I’m just tryna enjoy myself in this blistering fucking heat. I don’t exactly get my rocks off to any of this shit.” Which is a lie. He’s totally sold on every stupid fucking event at the motherfucking rodeo. 

“Fine. You wanna get stupid and drunk? Then you have to take me to the pageant. I wanna watch it.”

“Since fucking when do you give a shit about the pageant .” Max glared at him. Her nose was beginning to get red. 

Maybe if Billy were less of a shithead he would tell her to put some sunscreen on. But she was really testing his patience today. 

And then her eyes went huge, and her jaw went slack, and Billy was just about to tell her to close it and quit lookin’ like a dead fuckin’ fish when he heard someone cough slightly behind him. 

And when he turned, he almost made the exact same stupid dead fish face as Max. 

Because gorgeous cowboy Steve was standing right in front of him. In another cracker of a flannel shirt, stupid blue jeans, and fucking cowboy boots, because yeah. He’s a goddamn hick that rides a horse and ties up calves in a traveling rodeo for a fucking living. 

And God save Billy, because hot damn. 

Steve had an easy smile on his face, a little bit lopsided, and perfect white teeth showing between perfect pink lips. 

“Hey there.”

“Howdy,” Billy responded before he could stop himself, his face burning up. 

He was hoping he was already sweaty enough Steve wouldn’t notice the flush. 

But thankfully, Steve’s smile went wider, and he laughed, this gorgeous bright laugh, his head tossing back, and that thick hair flowing easily. 

He had gold streaks in his hair, lighter browns tussled within the darker colors. Billy wondered if they were natural, days spent out in the sun on his horse. Part of him hoped they weren’t. Part of him hoped that Steve was that intentional with himself and his goddamn hair. 

He smiled at Billy. 

“I’m Steve.”

“We saw you. Last weekend,” Max blurted out before Billy could kick her. She looked shocked that she had even spoken when Billy turned to give her a death glare. But Steve just laughed his gorgeous laugh again. 

“And what’d you think?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about you on the way home.” And Steve was back to looking at Billy, and his eyes are so fucking big, like, who’s eyes are just. Like that. Just fuckin’. Big. 

“And what about you, uh-”

“Billy. And this is Max. My sister.”

“Well, Billy,” and fuck Billy nearly creamed himself at the sound of Steve saying his name. “Did you like my display of talents ?”

“Could say so. I don’t give too many shits about all this hick farm stuff. But I can respect it.”

“Well, that’s alright then.” And Steve reached out to pat Billy once on the shoulder. “I hope I see y’all around. I gotta head off, June needs some TLC before our time.” He smiled at Max, and her already red face flushed deeper, almost blending into the roots of her flaming hair. 

And then he doubled back. 

“You know what, I forgot why I came over here in the first place.” He was digging through his jeans, rummaging around in his back pockets. 

Billy wanted to slide his hands in there, cop a feel while he helped Steve look for whatever he was going to offer Billy. 

And then Steve brought out two white wristbands. 

“They’re for, uh, VIP seating and stuff. If you’re interested. Gets you closer to the arena. That way I can just see what you look like after I’m comin’ off a ride.”

Hoo boy. 

This little cowboy has some fucking charm. 

And he knows it too, judging by his smug little half-smile he gave Billy while he fastened the wristband around his wrist. 

He helped Max with hers, doing it faster than he had Billy’s, and with a lot less eye contact, which was a good sign. He’s not perving on his twelve-year-old sister. Which is cool. 

And then he was looking back at Billy, and brushing his long fingers over the tops of Billy’s shoulders, his arms out in his shirt, the arms torn off an old Aerosmith t-shirt he found at the Goodwill last year. 

“You should reapply sunblock. Don’t want you burning now.” And Billy’s sure if Steve was wearing a Stetson, he woulda tipped it at them. “Enjoy the pageant.”

And he was off, and Christ, those jeans. How did Steve even successfully ride his horse in those things? They were so tight, showed off his nice peachy ass as he walked through the fairgrounds. 

“Wow,” Max said. And yeah, Billy felt the same. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, based on the way he was flirting with me, and also that he’s way too old for you, but, uh, dibs .”

“Billy, you can’t just call dibs on a person.” Billy just laughed. 

He knows that his twelve-year-old fucking sister doesn’t have a shot in Hell with Steve. Really, he doubts he even has a shot in Hell with Steve, but he also likes to spend his time making her life as difficult as possible without actually being a shitty person. So, he just riles her up. Says shit that’ll get her going. He wouldn’t be doing his brotherly duties if he didn’t say that shit. 

Max calls it even by kicking him in the shin twice and making him watch the stupid beauty pageant. 

Which, like, why the fuck are there beauty pageants at the rodeo anyway? 

Turns out it wasn’t pageant at all, but the four previous Miss Rodeo’s all lined up and looking far too glammed out for this fucking heat. 

Max faked being disgruntled by the disappointment, but Billy knows, somewhere inside that tough bitch little soul of hers, she’s glad she didn’t have to sit through a goddamn pageant just to make Billy miserable. 

Besides, Billy had whipped out his flask a few times, and he was feeling alright. Just buzzed enough that the heat had stopped making him feel quite so disgusting. 

But not too drunk to miss calf roping. 

And yeah, maybe it was a little bit lame to make their way over to the VIP seating earlier enough that they scored the front row. But when Steve came trotting out, leading June behind him, Billy was close enough he could pick out the cluster of moles on Steve’s left cheek. 

So, lame was not in Billy’s vocabulary today. 

It was pretty much the same thing as last week. Steve made everyone in the arena ooh and aah with his riding, tied up the calf in less than ten seconds once again. 

But this time, when he took that jaunty little lap around the small arena, Billy knows for a fact Steve grinned at him. Knows his stupid gay brain wasn’t making up the wink he tossed effortlessly in Billy’s direction. 

And they left, just like last weekend, as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. 

“Just, c’mon. Mom gave you money .” Max was whining for a corn dog, of all things. When they have perfectly good, not fried food, at home. 

“Maxine, I swear to Christ, I’m fucking tired. Let’s go home so I can crash, and you can fucking drive Susan up the goddamn wall with your whining.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem too bad.” And Billy felt his insides curdling at that voice, felt himself wilting and shriveling because he would not be getting out of this day without one final, no doubt embarrassing, encounter with his gorgeous cowboy. 

Steve was leaning against a booth selling chili fries, looking like a perfect picture of a Clint Eastwood movie. 

Billy had never liked westerns. 

But he was gonna go home and spend all night watching every one he could get his grubby little hands on. 

Steve pushed off the side of the booth as Max found her words again. 

“You don’t have to live with him.”

“And you don’t have to live with my folks. I’d trade you any day.” 

And Billy nearly died. Right there. On the spot. Because. Holy shit. I’d trade you any day. 

Billy was more than happy to follow this fucking hick around America, watch him ride his pretty horse before fucking him against the stable wall. 

Or whatever. Do they have stables? Billy doesn’t know how a traveling rodeo works. 

But like, they’ve gotta have stables, right?

“Nah, you’d get sick of him. He stinks.”

“Have you ever smelled horse shit? Because that’s the fragrance I wake up to every morning.”

And Max was laughing, and Steve was laughing, and Billy was trying to keep his hands as casually as possible in front of his slight chub. 

“Will I get the privilege of seeing you two again?” And what a way to word it? The privilege. And then Steve was looking Billy up and down, and he was biting that perfect bottom lip and opening his mouth and “I could always give you my phone number. So we can. Meet up. Next time you’re here.”

“‘Course. You can give us the grand tour.”

And Steve was digging in those tight back pockets again, and shoving his phone into Billy’s hand, and he doesn’t have a passcode, but his home screen was a picture of him and his fucking horse which is, just about the sweetest thing Billy’s ever seen. 

And Billy put himself in as Billy Hargrove , and then panicked because Steve doesn’t know his fucking last name. So he settled for Billy and then for good measure shoved San Diego after it because. Billy’s a common name, okay?

And Steve took his non-password protected fuckin’ horse girl phone, and Billy was giving him as charming a smile as he could muster with sweat on his upper lip and saying-

“You better text me, Pretty Boy. So I can save your number.” Billy shrugged, looking off to his left to try and seem. Nonchalant. “In case I wanna see you again.” 

And Max was rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t stopping away. Wasn’t even whining at Billy, no doubt on her best behavior in front of hot cowboy Steve. 

But Steve had a glint in his eye, and if Max wasn’t here Billy would be playing this all different, laying on the charm a lot thicker than he was. 

But he can’t be a horny bastard in front of her. That’s just, like, gross. 

So he settles for making a real show of licking his bottom lip, and maybe flexing his bare arms just a tiny bit. 

“We should probably get goin’. Got a curfew for this one,” Billy jerked his head in Max’s direction. She huffed before she could stop herself. “See you around, Cowboy Steve.”

And Steve gave another one of his pretty ringing laughs. 

“Come again soon, Billy and Max.” And again, Billy’s sure that if Steve were wearing a hat, he would’ve flicked the brim at them as he set off back into the rodeo, dodgin off the main thoroughfare. 

“Wow. That was embarrassing for you.” 

Billy whipped his head around to stare at Max, giving her the most disgusted look he could muster. 

“The fuck you mean?”

“You were so obvious.”

“That’s the fucking point . We were flirting. It’s supposed to be obvious, you demon.” Billy shoved her once before stomping in the direction of the parking lot. 

“Yeah but you were like, making these faces at him.”

“Shut the fuck up. I know what I was doing, okay? It was all very calculated . Let him know I’m down for it, and if he texts, then I’m good to go. If not, then I move on.”

And the thought of Steve not texting was kinda, disappointing. Because Billy really wanted him to text. He wanted to stay up late giggling at his phone and the dumb things Steve texts him and pretend they don’t make him flush like a fucking school girl. 

He pointedly didn’t look at his notification when he reached the car, just shoved an old tape in and turned up Black Sabbath when Max wrinkled her nose at it. 

They were both quiet on the drive back home. Something heavy unsaid between them. 

And only as Billy was pulling into his spot in the driveway did Max suck in a big breath to actually put it out there. 

“I won’t tell. About him. Not even Mom. Not even that I think he’s cool.”

“Thanks. Easier just to. Avoid at all costs.” 

And if Billy were a better person, maybe he would hug her or something. 

But they don’t do that. Instead he sighed and didn’t hip check her violently off the porch like his instincts were telling him. So really, he’s a fucking saint. 

[platypanthewriter]

Guess Again

Day Four of Harringrove AUgust, Profession AU!  Steve runs into a hot guy named Billy on his plane flight back to Indianapolis, and Billy lies about what he does for a living, then, laughing, admits he lied.  The prize for this guessing game: an exchange of phone numbers.

Steve found his seat, in coach, because that was the only seat available on the overbooked flight into Indianapolis a week before Thanksgiving.  He shoved his carry-on under the seat, and wedged himself in the limited leg room, opening his laptop to answer the emails that had been pinging his phone before the plane was ready to take off, and he—blessedly—had to go into airplane mode.  

He barely even noticed the guy wedging himself in to sit by the window, and trying to get the damn table to stay up.  Steve typed away as the busted table mechanism flapped onto the guy’s lap over and over.  Finally, Steve grimaced, glancing over.  “You can use my table,” he offered, registering only that the guy was tattooed, and kinda...hot.  “I’ll put this away as soon as we taxi to the runway.”

“It’s fine,” the dude said, smacking the floppy table with a sigh.  “Not like there’s a meal on this flight.”

“You can lean in and share my pretzels,” Steve told him, grinning over, and was met with big, long-lashed blue eyes, an annoying mustache, and curls that curved around an attractively firm jaw.  

The guy nodded, and put the broken table away.  “...kind of a workaholic?” he asked, probably because it was nearly ten o’clock at night, and Steve was glaring at his screen and typing emails like his survival depended on a high word count.  

He snorted a laugh.  “I left them all until now,” he said, grimacing.  “They really don’t need my input, but if I replied earlier, they’d just ask me something else.  Something they could google.”  He narrowed his eyes at an email from a coworker who’d actually emailed to ask for exact details of what was allowed under the sexual harassment policy.  Talk to HR, he sent back.  Creep, he thought.  He finished the last of the replies, hoping he wasn’t sending anything too weird in his distraction, and closed his laptop.  “Um.  Sorry.  What do you do?”

“I sell life insurance,” the guy said immediately, with a toothy grin.  “I’ll sell you so much insurance on this flight.”

“Uh,” Steve said, blinking at him.  “Umm...oh.”

“That’s a lie,” was the dude’s followup, and Steve stared at him, starting to regret his offer to share a table, or catch the flight at all.  “I don’t sell life insurance, I swear.  I promise,” the guy said, laughing.  “God, your face.  I just...my job is...I started telling people I sell life insurance, so they wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I can just sit over here,” Steve offered, pretending to zip his lips.

“No, no, it’s, uh.  Sorry I lied.  Talk to me, it’s a long flight.”

“Why do you have to lie?” Steve had to ask, and the guy grimaced.  

“My job’s kinda awkward,” he said, laughing.

“Are you a...porn star?” Steve asked, trying to figure out what kind of job would get the worst people to talk to you, and the dude cracked up.  

“Jesus, no, but thanks for the ego boost,” he said, and Steve snorted a laugh.  

“Um.  What about…” Steve thought, opened his mouth, and then closed it.  “Can I guess?” he asked, grinning, and the guy snickered.  

“Sure.  Give it your best shot.  Just don’t tell me any horror stories.”

“Do you embalm bodies?” Steve tried, already holding back a tide of questions, like did you ever drop one and have to fix a broken nose.

“Nope!” said the guy, turning to lean more against the window, to face Steve.  “How many tries do you want before I just tell you?”

“Oh, no, no, lemme guess,” Steve said, thinking as they came around asking for drink orders.  “Horror stories...um.  Are you a soldier?” he asked, wide-eyed, and the guy laughed again.  

“No!  No, nothing like that.”  He leaned to see Steve’s ID as Steve pulled it out to order a beer, and Steve grinned.  

“I’m Steve.”

“Billy,” said his mysteriously-employed seatmate, offering his hand, and Steve flipped it over investigatively.  

“You don’t have those, like, love/hate knuckle tattoos,” he said, feeling like a detective.  “So...maybe not a biker?”

“I’m not a biker,” Billy snickered.  His hand was warm in Steve’s.  “Is that even a job?”

“Oh!  Oh!” Steve leaned forward, sure he had it this time, and Billy moved the armrest between them out of the way.  “A writer?”

“What?!” Billy laughed, which probably meant Steve was wrong, but he argued his point.  

“People tell you horror stories,” he said, narrowing his eyes.  “So—so probably everybody tells you they have a great idea for your next novel—”

“No, uh.  One clue,” Billy said, grimacing.  “They’re true stories.”

“True stories,” Steve said, going to cross his arms in thought, and realizing Billy hadn’t taken his hand back.  “Uh, what do I get if I guess right?” he asked, squeezing Billy’s hand, and Billy snorted a laugh, grinning like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“I dunno, I feel like Rumpelstilzkin, you want like my firstborn or—”

“No, nope,” Steve made a face.  “I got enough kids around, thanks.  Oh—” he blinked, realizing how that sounded as Billy started to pull his hand back, and lean away, “—not, like, I’m not a dad, I don’t have a wife and kids or anything.  I just have some little shitheads that come over all the time and eat all my popsicles and pizza.”

“Oh good,” Billy said dryly.  “I’d feel terrible if holding my hand ruined your marriage.”

“No other knuckles can fulfill me, now,” Steve said soulfully, and then when Billy burst out laughing, Steve couldn’t hold a straight face.  

“You know how fucking dirty that sounds, right,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face with the hand Steve wasn’t holding, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get you to fist me on the plane,” he hissed back.

“Coward,” Billy shot back, and then they started giggling again, like they were ten.  

 “True horror stories,” Steve repeated, later, as they leaned together over the napkin on his tiny airplane table, where he was keeping track of the guesses he’d already made.  “True horror stories.  Are you a reporter?” 

“God no,” Billy said, making a face.  “Imagine this many tattoos in front of the news cameras?  We’ve got a ways to go before they allow that.”

“Oh, true,” Steve nodded.  “I mean, unless you worked for, like, a tabloid.  Circling everyone’s stomach in pictures and writing ‘BABY BUMP?!’ on it.”  

Billy jumped when Steve yelled ‘BABY BUMP’, and half the plane twitched and mumbled.  “Fuck no!” he hissed, laughing.  “Ssh!”

“Huh,” Steve said, studying the napkin.  “Oh!  Um,” he grimaced.  “Police officer?”

“No,” Billy growled, and Steve nodded, writing that down and crossing it out, and sipping his third beer.  “We never worked out what you got if you guessed,” Billy said, watching.  

“Oh, yeah,” Steve agreed, nodding.  “Uh, what about...dinner?”

“We’re gonna land at like six in the morning,” Billy pointed out, and Steve fingergunned him.

“Breakfast.”

Billy laughed.  “I dunno if I’m willing to put out on our first plane trip together.”

“Lemme get you, like, bacon and eggs,” Steve said, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows, “—and my phone number.”  He smirked as Billy cackled, leaning his head in the window.

“Yeah, okay.  Gimme some breakfast sausage, Steve,” he said softly, the overhead reading light making his curls glow a little, like a halo.  

“Now I haveta figure it out,” Steve said, frowning at his list, and Billy’s fingers twitched towards him.  Steve grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together, and accepted another beer from the flight attendant.  “I wonder how many beers that is,” he said, prodding at the label with his thumbnail.  “I think they’re like ten bucks a pop.”

“I bet the alcohol will really help you think,” Billy said dryly, and Steve made a face at him.  

“Shut up, I got it.  I got it this time,” he said, tipping his head back for a long, satisfying drink of beer, and wiping his mouth.  Billy’s mouth hung a little open when he finished, and Steve licked his lips, grinning.  “You—you’re a doctor.  A—a doctor of butts.  A butt-doctor.”

Billy started laughing so hard, silently, that Steve was starting to wonder whether he could breathe.  

“I’m right, right?” Steve said, taking a triumphant swig, and Billy shook his head, wheezing for air.

“You mean a proctologist?!” he gasped.

“Yeah, and you understood fine,” Steve told him, annoyed.

“I’m not—I’m not a butt doctor,” Billy choked out, tears of laughter in his eyes.  “I don’t have a doctorate in ass—”

“Your loss,” Steve muttered, glaring at the napkin with the list.  “Man, my cousin is one, and he has some stories.  Dude, that’s everything, that’s every damn job.  Ever.  Do zookeepers get told horror stories?!  Oh!”  He pointed the beer bottle at Billy.  “Dentist!”

“No,” Billy giggled, his hair rising with static in the dry air of the plane, and sticking to the wall and window behind him.  He looked ruffled and fond, and Steve squeezed his hand again, trying to think of what he’d missed, before the plane landed, and he’d spent the entire flight guessing jobs, and Billy hadn’t even given him a last name.  

“Shit,” Steve said, then straightened again.  “No, okay, this time,” he said, the beer making his words a little soft around the edges, “This time I really have it.  You’re a Mickey Mouse person.”

“I’m a what now,” Billy said, still snickering.

“You know,” Steve said, his eyes narrowed.  “You crawl up the ass of one of those suits and let kids think you’re a Disney princess.”

“No, Harrington,” Billy said, breathlessly, as he shook with laughter.  “No, I do not.  Do people tell mascots horror stories?!  I don’t even want to know.  Which princess?  Just for scientific curiosity, Steve, which princess do I crawl up the ass of, in your brain?”

Steve tried to remember them all.  “Not Jasmine,” he said with certainty.  “Um.  Wait, Peter Pan?  Maybe?”

“Peter Pan’s not a princess,” Billy choked out, wiping his eyes as he tried to muffle his laughter.  

“Hrm,” Steve said, accepting another beer and huffing a sigh, but Billy leaned in suddenly and just kissed him.  His lips were warm and chapped, and Steve hummed happily against them.  Their teeth bumped, a little, because Billy was giggling so hard, and Steve was grinning so wide his cheek muscles ached.

“I’m a drug and alcohol counselor,” Billy said with a grimace, and Steve glared at his beer, betrayed, "—so, um, horror stories.  Yeah."

"I just have butt-doctor horror stories," Steve said quickly, trying to salvage the situation, and he shoved his beer behind him.

Billy laughed harder, shaking his head.  "I’ll still take that number,” he whispered, kissing Steve again—and snickering, his cheeks flushed.  “And breakfast?”

Here’s my other Harringrove stuff!  Or check out the Harringrove AUgust collection on Ao3!  Add something!  =D 

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them. 

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship. 

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it. 

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates. 

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing. 

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say. 

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think) 

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them. 

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally. 

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?  

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting. 

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do. 

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries. 

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

[megalony]

We have to go

I know I’ve been absent for a few weeks but I’ve finally managed to get an imagine done. This is a murderer! Ben Hardy imagine that I might do a follow up part for if you all like it. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​  @tabsispage​ @allauraleigh​ @onceuponadetectivedemigod​

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben is a hitman and that means he has to be careful that he doesn’t put his family at risk. That means that when he is in danger, they have to move, sometimes in the dead of night.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) tiredly fluttered her eyes open, blinking to adjust to the darkness of the room before she slowly started to scan her eyes around for Ben. Her brain was so accustomed to being woken up in the night or early morning due to her husband that any noises she heard no longer set off her anxiety. It was normal to hear him looking around for his keys, his belt or his clothing when he got up early or came home late. And (Y/n) was no stranger to listening to him stumbling home from a late night, smelling of booze and crawling into bed and wrapping himself around her like a vine.

But as she slowly looked around for him, (Y/n) started to wake up a bit when she noticed Ben was moving around the room rather quickly. He was clearly moving things by the way (Y/n) could hear clothing being ruffled and items being picked up and discarded like tissue.

What was he up to?

There was no time for (Y/n) to try and formulate any words or sit herself up in bed before her heart jumped in her chest as she was suddenly staring into her husband's wild eyes. Ben was crouched down in front of the bed, his arms folded on the edge of the bed and his chin resting on his arm and (Y/n) could barely make out the small tight-lipped smile on his lips through the darkness of their shared bedroom.

"Hey baby. Sorry to wake you darlin' but I need you to get up cause we got a lot to do." Ben's voice was quiet as he knew (Y/n) had only just woken up due to him rushing around the room and he knew he would be confusing her but he needed her to be awake before he even began to explain what was going on.

He leaned forward and stole a quick but very desperate kiss from her lips, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth before he pulled back and pushed himself to his feet.

A groan escaped (Y/n)'s lips when Ben flicked on the bedside lamp before he went back to doing whatever he had been doing that woke her up. (Y/n) couldn't fathom what was happening but all she did know was that Ben was in his organised panic mood. When Ben had to get things done he made sure he did it but when it was something panicking him he started to get a bit shakey and moved and talked quicker than normal like life was moving on fast forward setting.

Ben was never a settled man, it didn't matter if he was oddly calm or if he was always thinking about something, he had to be moving and doing something. He liked to organise and reorganise the house, it helped him calm down and get his mind in order and he liked a clean tidy house more than (Y/n) did so when he was home he got to work. Sitting down to watch a movie was something he couldn't always do but he did try and relax, it just didn't seem to be in his nature.

"Ben... what are you doing?" (Y/n) slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position that made her head spin considering she had only just woken up. She wanted to go back to sleep, she wanted Ben to crawl into bed and sleep with her or even for him to just babble about his day and draw patterns on her skin until he dozed off. She just wanted to sleep rather than wake up and work out what he was doing now.

(Y/n) could feel her heart starting to pound against her ribcage in a way that made her body coil forward itch from how uncomfortable the feeling was. Ben was stuffing clothing into bags. He was packing up their stuff in a haphazard kind of way that (Y/n) had seen before.

"Ben..."

The way she slowly said his name with a warning tone caused him to momentarily stop what he was doing to look at her.

"We need to go."

Those four little words were enough to force a whine past (Y/n)'s lips and make tears well up in her eyes without her even having to know the reasons behind Ben's words. In the six years that (Y/n) had been with Ben, she had heard those words a dozen times and she knew instantly that this was going to be a bad one.

Whenever Ben said those words it meant one of two things. It either meant that something had gone wrong with a deal or a fight and they would have to go away for a few days or weeks and then come back home. Or it was more serious and meant they would have to take everything and move homes altogether. (Y/n) hated when it meant they had to move and that had happened three times in the six years she had been with Ben. She knew what he did, she knew he was a hitman and that it meant killing people for large sums of money.

Ben loved what he did and he knew what kind of a man that made him. It made him a monster for killing people who either deserved to be killed or simply needed to be killed to fit someone else's plans and life. Ben was good at what he did and he had the kind of conscience where killing people didn't play on his mind at all, he felt no remorse for what he did. Despite being a family man and being someone who would go to the ends of the Earth to keep his family safe, Ben was a killer at heart.

But none of that mattered to (Y/n) because she always saw the other side to Ben. She saw the kind, loving and caring man who would do anything for her without her having to ask. She saw the man who smiled at her when she did nothing at all, the man who would wrap himself around her and just hold her because he wanted to feel her touch. (Y/n) saw a man who would do absolutely anything for her and for their children and that made her uncaring to what he did for a living.

But part of what Ben did meant that he had to have a normal home life, or as normal of one as he could manage. If people believed he was a good family man like he actually was, then they were less likely to believe that he was a cold blooded killer.

(Y/n) was fine with that. She was fine with creating a perfect family image for Ben because it was what she wanted, she wanted a loving family and Ben was a loving husband and father despite the cruel and heartless ways he killed people without even needing a reason to clear his conscience. But (Y/n wanted to have a home that she could decorate and make feel like it was theirs that they didn't have to uproute and leave when things went wrong. (Y/n) wanted to live somewhere where she had friends and family to talk to and be around, she wanted their boys to grow up in one place and have a permanent school rather than going to different schools and nurseries whenever things went wrong.

Leaving within a few days was okay, (Y/n) could deal with quickly packing things up and moving within a space of a week. That was okay, (Y/n) took at least three months to decorate each home they had in case they had to quickly move. She left items in boxes and essentials in easy places or bags in cupboards so if Ben did something bad they didn't have to run around and look for everything to pack up.

But they had been in this house for two years.

Billy had been born in this house and (Y/n) had it decorated lovely, they had nice neighbours for a change who weren't nosy or rude or creepy. (Y/n) had a lot of old friends in this neighbourhood and it wasn't a bad area to live in. She wanted this to be their home and to stay their home, she didn't want to take another long drive to a random destination and find a new home and start again.

Ben knew this.

Ben knew (Y/n) wanted a normal family life and a permanent home and he wanted that for her too. Before he met her Ben had a few flings and one night stands but had been dead set against being a family man because it would be too hard with his job. Then (Y/n) walked into his life and changed his outlook completely. She made him fall madly in love with her without having to do anything at all. They had two boys together and Ben loved when he came home and switched to being a normal family man, it made him so close to changing his job to something normal and reliable and more to the point, legal.

But he couldn't do that, deep down he would never be able to change that much so he did everything in his power to make their family normal, loving and happy.

"No. Ben we can deal with this... we'll call Joe or we'll just go for a week or two and say it's a holiday, Ben please." (Y/n) rubbed her hands over her face as she tried to think of anything they could do without really knowing what had gone on. She didn't want to move, they couldn't move right now it was bad timing, it was so bad.

"Baby, baby look at me." Ben moved until he was sat down on the bed next to (Y/n) so he could take her hands in his own. "Someone in connection to one of my old targets is here. Now they know me and if they find out about my last target they will put two and two together. This was always a risk and I need us to move before they spot me and things get ugly."

"Can't we just go for a few weeks-"

"I can't take that risk babydoll. My last target was an hour away from this town, that was close enough to home as it is and if someone says my name around here or this person sees me it will be a lot worse. I need us to be safe cause this person is dangerous and therefore we have to go. I've got a place sorted for now and then we'll search for a permanent place soon I promise."

Ben had targets, they were the people he killed because using names or any other tags made it too real for him and for (Y/n). Targets seemed easier, it was hard to imagine a person as a target. Sometimes in order to kill people Ben had to get close or talk to people who were close to his targets and that meant he took the risk of them recognising him. If this person recognised him and found out about someone who had been murdered an hour away from Ben's hometown it would be suspicious and Ben knew this man would know enough to suspect Ben of being a killer.

His first priority was his family and that meant that if someone was threatening their safety Ben uprooted them to keep them all safe. He also made sure he didn't take any jobs for at least two months in order to make sure things blew over and quietened down.

Ben could see the tears forming in (Y/n)'s eyes and it made his stomach churn to see her so cut up. He let go of her hands so he could hold onto her hip and cup her face with his free hand. His thumb smoothed over her cheek to brush away a stray tear before he leaned close and pressed his forehead against her own like he was trying to merge their thoughts together. Ben knew (Y/n) would eventually be okay with this, once they found a house she adored they would buy it and decorate it until it was perfect and Ben would do everything he could to make sure it was a forever home for them.

But right now he just had to move them all to keep them safe.

"We can't do a midnight flit, Ben. The boys... they won't understand, it'll be hard to move everything like it always is. And the baby..."

(Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her temple more against Ben's as she wished this was just a bad dream she was going to wake up from at any moment.

The boys were five and two, they weren't going to understand why they were leaving in the middle of the night and not going back to the place they knew to be their home. They would be confused, leaving their friends behind and going to a new home, a new school where they would have to make new friends and get used to a new school system. It would be a lot for them to take in, the last time they had moved Billy hadn't even been born but it was a lot for Harvey to cope with since he had only been three at the time.

Billy had been born in this house, (Y/n) had hoped that was a sign that this might be their forever home and she wanted this baby to be born in this home too. She wanted to get through this pregnancy without anymore problems or worries happening to make everything turn upside down.

Ben knew this was bad timing, he had been afraid of something like this happening and he wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't the only option he had right now. (Y/n) had suffered a miscarriage when Billy had only been ten months old, it had been a short time between his birth and getting pregnant again only for (Y/n) to lose the baby and suffer a very bad haemorrhage which hospitalized her for a week. That traumatic event had panicked Ben because it had taken a toll on (Y/n) and Ben couldn't take any jobs for four months because he had to look after (Y/n) and the boys.

They had finally gotten to a better point in their lives where the boys were fine, their relationship was great and (Y/n)'s depression caused by the miscarriage was under control. Learning they were pregnant again had been a worry and a shock and (Y/n) had been scared of losing this baby too.

Ben didn't want to uproot their family right now when (Y/n) had been put on bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy due to complications. He didn't want to take any risks when it came to this baby because (Y/n) losing another baby would kill her too and she was his whole world. But if he didn't move them all now he risked someone finding out about him and either the police would get involved or it would get a lot worse and he would have the risk of his family being put in harms way.

"I know, I know it's shit timing baby but we have to go now. I'm gonna go pack the car and I'll try and keep the boys asleep and move them to the car. You know the drill, doll."

He pressed another longing kiss to (Y/n)'s temple, carding his fingers through the hair at the back of her head before he slowly pulled away and stood to his feet. Whenever this happened, and it had only happened three times before, they had a drill to go through. They packed clothing, paperwork, money and any other essentials into backpacks and carry on bags to stuff into the car and then Ben or Joe would come back to the house in a few days and clear it out. They took the essentials and came back for everything else when it was clear and Ben would sort out the house in terms of cancelling the rental and cutting off the electric and giving back the keys.

A sigh escaped (Y/n)'s lips as she rubbed at her eyes that were so desperate to shed tears but she had no effort or will to cry. She was too tired and numb to cry no matter how badly she felt she needed to in order to feel better.

(Y/n) tried to busy herself getting dressed but she kept stopping and staring at the wall in front of her or finding her eyes locked onto Ben, watching his every movement. He had managed to rather neatly pack their clothes into two carry on bags within minutes and was now kneeling down at the foot of the bed in order to get the dark grey box he always kept there.

(Y/n) watched the way Ben's silver chain around his neck hung forward like a medallion trying to show him some kind of sign. The silver ring that hung so neatly at the end of the chain was slowly swaying back and forth, repeatedly tapping against Ben's chest each time it fell back towards him. With what Ben did for a living, he knew it was best to keep his wedding ring around his neck so no one could see it. If people did end up finding him and knowing what he did then at least they wouldn't know he was married and had a family.

It had only now dawned on (Y/n) that Ben was only wearing his black work jeans and nothing else, no shirt, no hoodie, not even any socks. She wondered what he had been doing before he woke her up, maybe he had gotten blood on his clothes and therefore had washed them or even binned them. Maybe he worked himself into a state and stripped off in a hot flush which had happened a few times before. Maybe he had been in the midst of changing clothes and felt he had to pack up before he finished getting dressed.

Without his shirt it allowed all of Ben's marks and tattoos to be on display, not that (Y/n) hadn't already gotten each one memorised so that when she closed her eyes she could still see a map of his body.

There was something about Ben's look that was so calming and affectionate despite the many marks covering his skin. He had scars littering his skin from where knives had cut through him during bad and drunken fights in the dead of night, he never seemed to go a single day without bruises of some sort forming somewhere on his person. And the tattoos he had made his body look like a road map. Ben had dates inked into his skin of when the boys had been born and the date of when he had married (Y/n), plus a few designs on his arms and his lower abdomen.

Ben had roman numerals tattooed onto each knuckle on both hands and he had the same design on the back of his neck in large black ink. All of these marks would normally warn people away from him, they made him look dangerous and as if he was a threat or just made him intimidating. But (Y/n) always seemed to overlook all the marks and the ink, it was as if the colours faded and she just saw the person Ben was. He seemed to loving and inviting to everyone despite his outlook.

(Y/n)'s staring didn't go unnoticed by Ben, he could feel her eyes boring into his skin like she was trying to burn him with her intense gaze but he paid no mind to her staring. It was something (Y/n) naturally seemed to do and it never bothered him.

He found the box under the bed that he had been searching for and when he took off the lid, he started placing all the documents into the small backpack he had gotten ready. The grey box was something they took everywhere with them, it contained their passports, the boys' birth certificates, their insurance numbers and documents. But it also held a plastic wallet filled with fake documents. Ben had fake passports, driving licenses, insurance numbers and legal documents created so that if things got tricky they could switch identities in emergencies.

It was harder now they had the boys because they couldn't go changing the boys' names and think that they would understand but Ben had to have the documents made just in case a new identity was needed.

He also kept a lot of money and credit cards stashed away because when they had to disappear like this, cash was the best way to pay for things because it couldn't be tracked like a credit card could.

Breaking out of her trance, (Y/n) slowly padded across the carpet to where Ben was knelt down in front of the bed. Without saying anything, she held her hand out to her husband who placed two credit cards, a driving licence and an unknown amount of cash into her hand. (Y/n) knew the drill, she would place all of those items into the seam of her handbag so if they got stuck or had to improvise, she could take them out of the hidden seam and start using them.

She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Ben's temple before she headed out of the room and quietly made her way downstairs. They had to be quick but they couldn't be too loud in case they woke the boys.

It felt like they were both in a trance or placed on autopilot because they knew what they were doing. The first time this happened they had been rushing around like headless chickens trying to remain calm. They had talked about what they would do if this situation ever happened but actually going through it was a lot different. But now it was a drill, it was a fire drill and they had to do what they always did to make sure everything went smoothly.

The couple bypassed one another in the hall and when going up or down the stairs to get the bags to pack the car.

(Y/n) went into Harvey's room and Ben went into Billy's room, both of them working in the darkness to pack up their son's clothes, essential toys that they couldn't go without and the bits such as bottles and beakers and nappies.

"Double-check there isn't anything you need to take tonight then go get in the car, I'll get the boys." Ben rested his hands on (Y/n)'s shoulders, slowly massaging his fingers into her skin before he turned and made his way into Harvey's room.

Ben grabbed a pair of socks and sat down on the end of Harvey's bed, slowly moving the cover so he could slide the socks onto his eldest boy's feet so he wouldn't get cold. He pulled the navy blue fluffy blanket from the end of the bed and was carful when wrapping it around his son before he effortlessly eased Harvey from the bed. His look-alike stayed motionless and in a sleeping state just like Ben expected, nothing every seemed to wake Harvey up, not even a thunderstorm or an earthquake.

He hated to do this.

Ben hated himself as he walked down the stairs, holding his son to his chest tighter with every step he went down. He didn't want to imagine how the conversation would go when the five year old woke up to realise he was no longer at home but was in the car driving to a new home in a new town. But it had to be done, and this was easier than waking Harvey and trying to explain everything to him right now.

It didn't take long for Ben to kneel in the car and slowly settle Harvey into his car seat with the blanket still tucked around him and his rabbit toy cocooned under his arm. Ben made sure the small emergency light in the front of the car was switched off for now so it wouldn't wake Harvey who couldn't stand any lights on in his room when he went to sleep.

He made his way back into the house and up to Billy's room, slipping a pair of socks onto the two year old and a jumper to make sure he stayed warm before he wrapped Billy's sleeping blanket around him and cradled him in the crook of his left arm.

Ben felt his heart jumping in his chest when Billy curled up into his chest, sighing as he tucked his face into Ben's side in his sleep. This was why Ben was doing this, he couldn't have anything happening to (Y/n) or their boys, he couldn't have them in danger because of him.

When Billy was curled up in his car seat safe and sound, Ben headed back inside, doing a double check of the house to make sure the essentials were in the car and all that was left were the decorations and household items that didn't need to be taken with them. He could see the pain in (Y/n)'s eyes as she looked around the house whilst pulling her cardigan tighter around her frame to fight out the bitter old of the early morning.

"I'm sorry, doll."

"I know. But can we just... try and make the next one a bit more permanent?" (Y/n) looked up at Ben with tired eyes that softened like melting chocolate when Ben wound his arms around her waist so he could pull her closer to his chest.

"We will, I promise. And this is just a precaution, I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't to keep you all safe. We have a good cover up, anyway." Ben inched his hand under (Y/n)'s cardigan until the palm of his hand was resting against the side of her stomach.

He was only moving them for their safety, and their family was the best cover they could ask for. They had two young boys and a baby on the way, no one was going to think they were anything but an ordinary, loving family.

[gayenerd]

Interview with Billie for the Kerrang Yearbook. Sounds like this took place around 2000-2001?

Hello Billie Joe. A bit pissed at the Kerrang Awards weren't you? "I was drinking with Papa Roach the night before. Everybody went to see The Cult in Brixton. All the American bands like Papa Roach and Queens Of The Stone Age were there. I felt terrible when I got out of bed to go to the Kerrang Awards." Who ended up worse off - you or Coby Dick? "Sometimes Coby can't even hold it together when he's sober! He's super-hyper all the time. You have to say, 'Coby, turn it off for 2 minutes - I'm in my bunk!' Then he'll turn it off and you can get into a decent conversation." You experienced some difficulty in getting off the stage after accepting your Kerrang Award. "Award's shows freak me out - I'm so scared shitless of those things so I end up doing stupid things. I never theought I'd ever win an award for playing music. Watching all our videos being shown up on the screen, I just looked at Mike and Tre and said. 'Does this mean we're old now?' I can be such a self-conscious freak. I just don't know how to be cool." What's the healthiest thing you've done this year? "I like to keep myself fit. I run, I skateboard, and i'll hit the weights every other day. You reach a certain age when you've gotta start looking out for yourself. I'm staring down the barrel of 30, you know? My dad really let himself fall to @#%$ and I don't want to end up like that. Theres a preconcieved idea about musicians and punk musicians in particular that we have to self-destruct, and I can't buy into that. I like to breathe. Like like it when my heart beats - Its a really cool thing." Have you cut down on your drinking recently? "When i'm on tour I drink all day long with the guys. There's nothing else to do. But i've been at homea while. There are many, many moods to Billie Joe. There's drunk me and theres not-drunk me." What have you learned about being a father during the past year? "You learn new things every day as your kids' characters and personalities are building. Joey is 6 now, he's not a baby at all, he's a little boy. And Jacob, who's 3, is a maniac. The one rule I have is that I never expose them to television." What have you learned about Tre and Mike this past year? "Wow (long pause). I learned that Mike is a Bob Dylan fan, which was kind of suprising. I'm not the biggest fan but I definately appreciate Bob Dylan. And Tre is becoming really fluent in Spanish. His wife is Nicaraguan." What color has your hair been this year? "I shaved my head when I got off the road. Its been black. I haven't really been changing it. When the boy groups started dyeing their hair, I had to stop." Any fashion tips you'd care to pass on to Kerrang readers? "I've been wearing the same pants since High School! Never been into the Versace thing." Best punk rock song you've heard this year? "Last Nite by The Strokes. They're not really a punk band, but those guys have a really cool outlook and a good sensibility about how they present themselves. All the rap rock metal bands have lost that rock'n'roll element, and i'm just a sucker for good rock'n'roll music." What song has been stuck in your head this year, even though you hate it? "Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm. It was bad when Michael Jackson sang it, but it's even worse second time around! Y'know, I think Michael Jackson should join Slipknot. His face looks so bizarre now, its like he's wearing a mask." Are Slipknot still the scariest dudes in rock? "In about a year from now, if they're still as popular as they are now, they'll be as American as apple pie. That's sort of what happened to Marilyn Manson. When he came out he was really scary looking, like 'Jesus Christ! This guy is a maniac!' But now its, 'Oh, theres Marilyn, mowing the lawn, no big deal.' I like Manson, but it's funny how the most normal people end up being the most threatening, and the people who are scariest at first end up kinda normal. That's the dissapointing thing about shock value. Neil Young is more threatening than Slipknot just because he's smarter and has more of an opinion." How much fun did you have on tour in 2001? "It's really exciting at first because you're in different places every day, but after a while i'd rather be home. I get into really long conversations with my wife, I talk to my kids a lot, I'll write little notes and draw pictures for them and fax them to the house. Our sets are getting longer, sometimes we'll play up to three hours, and its because there is no rock'n'roll lifestyle for me other than that. I'm a devoted husband and a devoted father, and so all that decadent bullshit is not my thing. You start to wonder, 'Is this the life for me?' But then I get home and I dont know what the @#%$ to do with myself because i'm not playing music. People have looked at us and gone, 'Obviously these guys have no place to go after the gig because they're still on stage!'" Where were you on September 11? "I was on West Coast time, so it was really early in the morning for me. I saw the towers fall, and it felt like the world was gonna end. What amazes me is that Tony Blair is almost heading the coalition by himself! Does he realise what he's getting his country into? This is @#%$ serious! There's been a lot of shocking words used: the 'crusade against terrorism'. The las thing you say to someone from the Middle East is the word 'crusade'." After September 11, do you share America's renewed sense of patriotism? "No way. I can't really see myself as a patriot. I don't see what happened in New York as an act of war, it's an act of terrorism. Every country has had to deal with terrorism in some form, and this is the first time America has ever seen it and they dont know what to do, so everyone is clinging to these war slogans. All the flags is people's cars and homes - it just seems kind of gross to me." Has American learnt from the tragedy? "I hope some good stuff comes out of this. People have become so self-absorbed and dedicated to their careers. I'm not a person to wave a flag for family values or anything like that, but there comes a time when your relationships and your family is the most important thing, not whether you're making $100,000 every year. Thats what I hope comes out of it - that people realise the important things in life." Six Of The Best Best Friend: " Valium. Lots of plane flights, man. Valium only lasts four hours, so if you're on an 11 hour flight take two and a half." Best advice: "Put your head between your knees if you think you are gonna pass out." Best Ass: "Tre Cool. Not only because he has one, but because he is one." Personal Best: The pinnacle moment for me this year, musically, was playing Reading. It was a great show. There's so many bands nowadays who can't play live, but to actually do it and have people singing along and getting something sentimental out of it at the same time, thats rare, and we achieved that at Reading." Best Night Out: "The furst night I went out after september 11. I really went for it. American has these feelings of its days being numbered. It's like a country that has just got cancer, but the cancer's in remission. A lot of people are doing all the things they've always talked about doing. I hadn't partied really hard in a while, so that's what I did. I went to a couple of bars with Mike and Tre and our producer. We got loud and had a good time." Best Buy: " My cellphone. The ring tone is just a goofy tune. And it vibrates well in my pocket."

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day five of Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was monsters!

Little brat’s been in the school ten minutes after the bell.

After they both broke curfew, Max staying out late trick-or-treating and going to one of her little friends’ house to trade candy, and Billy crashing at the lingering party until he was sober enough to come home and not get his ass kicked, they were supposed to be straight home today. Used up all their free time for the week apparently.

Max knew that this morning, he already told her to forget about the damn AV club. If he had to cancel on whatever chick he was going to take out (was it Carol? No, Carol is Tommy’s girl. Fuck he doesn’t know anybody yet) Max had to give her shit up to.

He gets bored of waiting for the little twerp and tosses his cigarette to the ground, marching in there his damn self.

Only time he’s ever been in this building was to pick Max up from AV. His dad made him come all the way inside and give his assessment on the teacher. Asked (slapped him and demanded it) that he do so to check on Max. Just to be sure. Like he cares.

But it works out anyways that he knows the way now that Max has decided to disappear and it’s up to him to track her down. Only problem is he gets there, and the room is empty. Not even just that Max isn’t in there, there’s no damn kids or teacher or nothing. Just a knocked over lamp and some shit on the floor.

He ain’t trying to hunt her down, but he has to get her back home in like, the next half-hour, and she’s somewhere she ain’t supposed to be. The school isn’t very big, half the damn building is closed off for the school board to use, so there isn’t much ground to cover.

He’s not trying to get himself arrested either, so he makes quick work of the school, checking all the places Max might be. Still, he comes up empty, and he’s about to just give up and let whoever she was with keep her when he sees something scurrying across the floor out of the corner of his eye.

It’s not really any of his business whether or not the middle school is infested, but it catches his eye for the wrong reasons.

It’s a gnarly little thing, a cross between a frog and rat or some shit, but Billy’d recognize that thing anywhere. It’s a fucking monster, crawling around the halls of his sisters school.

Purely on instinct, he tracks the thing to where it cornered itself, taking advantage of the fact that it’s still small and growing into its demon teeth to stomp on the gross monster. He stops once he’s positive it’s dead and not just faking him out like they do sometimes, he’s not gross or something, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when behind him, Max shouts, “Billy!”

He turns, ignoring the pile of goop that was one of those things to face his, apparently, from the flush on her cheeks and the bitterness in her tone, “Jesus, shitbird. What is wrong with you?”

He’s hardly even got the question out before Max snaps at him, “Why would you kill it!”

“Do you even know what that thing is?” Billy raises eyebrows, no patience for Max telling him what to do, but she counters with something that surprises him, “It was Dustins, he discovered it, you jerk!”

“Yeah, no. These things’ve been around longer’n any of us have been alive. And I don't care who found it first. They’re fucking monsters.”

“How do you even know what he was? You killed him.”

“It. Not him. Don’t humanize them.” Billy hisses, warning Max, “And anyways, I seen some shit kid. Don’t ask. And don’t play around with anymore of these little fuckers. Give ‘im a day or two ‘n he’ll be the size of a gray wolf. Another month or so and he’s seven feet tall.”

“But what is he?” Max demands stubbornly.

Billy answers simply, “Something you don’t want anything to do with.”

By now, the rest of Max’s friends have followed the sound of her yelling to their little showdown, and it’s Dustin, the owner of this thing, that chimes in, “But wait, does that mean you know?”

“Know what?” Max huffs, but she gets ignored, Billy firing back at Dustin, “Do you?”

All four of the kids nod at once. Billy sighs deeply, “Jesus, how the fuck did a bunch of little kids get caught up in this bullshit?”

“How did you?” These kids aren’t very original coming back at him with his own questions like this.

Again Max interjects, being left out of the questioning just making her more confused. “Excuse me, but what exactly are we talking about?”

But again nobody acknowledges her, Billy busy answering the boys’ questions.

“Had a friend came from that lab. You know about that part too?” He clarifies, getting three attentive nods, and this time one disapproving scowl, as he explains, “Well the monsters followed ‘im. Through their portals and his head and shit, they were out in California too. That’s how I know I was right to kill that thing.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Mike insists, “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know, man. How else would he know about everything?” Lucas shrugs, exciting Dustin and promoting him to ask, “Do you think he knows about Eleven too?”

“I’m still here too you guys. What is going on?” Max interrupts, serving only as a reminder, Lucas turning the conversation back to Billy as he asks, “Why haven’t you told Max?”

Billy smugly tries their little deflecting shtick on them, “Could ask you the same. Why are you showing her the monsters if you ain’t gonna tell her jack about ‘em either? I was keeping her safe. You assholes were keeping her stupid.”

Max interjects, “Hey!”

“No, that’s not fair. We had to sign an NDA.” Dustin corrects, very matter of fact for a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, me too kid. It wasn’t any secret that number six escaped. I’ve had those assholes watchin’ over my shoulder for years and I didn’t even do anythin’.” Billy feels like he’s having a trauma competition with a bunch of middle schoolers, and he hates it. His tone is harsh as he demands, “Which brings us into, what the hell did you do to get caught up in all this?”

“None of your business.” Mike spits, but for the first time in the conversation, Will chimes in, “I got taken. By the demogorgon.”

“Okay. What’s that got to do with this, kid?”

“The demogorgon is what we called the big one. Before El killed it.” Lucas explains.

“Look, I don’t know who El is, but believe me when I tell you, you brats don’t know nothing. There ain’t just one of those, you know. Every last one of those annoying little fuckers like the one I just squished’ll turned into a ‘big one’.” They all look collectively defeated by that, maybe because he knows more than they do, or maybe just because they didn’t want to admit it was that bad.

But none look more ghastly than Will, who barely manages to inform them, “That’s bad. Last night, I heard them while we were trick-or-treating. They were everywhere.”

“Then we’re gonna have to do something.” Dustin declares determinedly, but Billy shuts it down right away, “No. Seriously, what the hell? All you sorry little punks are going right the fuck back home and pretending none of this never happened. If you don’t provoke ‘em, they’ll stop.”

“But they weren’t provoked when they took Will.” One of then argues, but Billys ignoring them now, turning back to a no less calm Max, “I don’t care. I ain’t doing this shit all over again. Come on, Maxine. Gotta leave your little friends to their baby ‘demogorgon’ and their world saving bullshit.”

Max scrunches her face up and argues, “Um, did you forget that I still have no idea what the hell is going on?!”

“Honestly, yeah.” Billy admits, “But s’better if you don’t ask questions. Now if you please, we gotta go.”

“No. You’re being a jerk.” Max crosses her arms and glares at him, a clear sign shes refusing to leave with him.

Billy just shrugs, “M’always a jerk. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“I do. And that’s exactly why I’m not listening to you. If my friends are going to do something, I want in on it.”

“Look what you little fuckers did.” Billy grumbles at the boys before trying to reason with his sister again, “Max. We only got fifteen minutes out of an almost half hour drive to get home. Come on.”

“This is so much bigger than that! I don’t care what your stupid dad says, I want to do something!” Her attitude gets on Billy’s nerves. That’s definitely deliberate if the spite gleaming in her cold eyes is any indication.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Then I deserve to find out!”

Billy sighs deeply, done doing this with a bunch of little kids in over their heads, “You know what, fine, but we’re stoppin’ at a payphone and you’re gonna be the one to tell my old man I’m takin’ you out for.. I don’t know, fucking ice cream or some shit. And if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you. Deal?”

Max smiles to herself at having gotten one over on him, “Deal. Where are we going though?”

“I dunno. Ask your nerds. S’their big fucking idea.” Billy grumbles, matching Max’s bitterness.

“We’ll have to call a meeting.”

“Will my basement work?”

“No offense, but I don’t think he’s getting past your mom.” Dustin nods towards Billy, the older boy rolling his eyes even though he’s not wrong, then offers, “My mom doesn’t like visitors. Maybe Will’s?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Byers will let anybody come over.”

“And she already knows what’s going on.”

They all nod again, and Billy rolls his eyes at them again while Lucas relays their decision to Max, “Alright, meet us at Will’s in an hour.”

“Why that long though? We’re all here right now.”

“Gives us time to cover our tracks, shitbird.” Billy hums in response to Max, stepping forward and asking, “What’s the damn address?”

This ‘meeting’ the twerps called was pretty much everyone in this hick town that knows the same dirty little secret as he does getting together in a tiny house and panicking. Billy and Max get fully interrogated like, a dozen times, once by the damned chief of police himself, all the while everyone is coming up with theories and plots and arguing. So much fucking arguing among this lot.

It gets to be too much pretty quickly, day five in this place and he’s already having to jump back into some of the worst things that ever happened to him. None of these people realize how big this is. Especially not the kids who just think it’s badass to fight monsters.

He leaves without telling anyone, or without anyone noticing among the chaos, to the back porch to light one up. There’re ashtrays all over the house he could use, but looming smoke in that cramped little kitchen wasn’t going to be any better than watching it curl upwards to the stars. So outside it was.

He leans against the wall, gaze fixing straight to what’s above him. He doesn’t notice the presence of another person until he hears them speak, startling slightly at the sound of a voice breaking the calm silence of a humid November night.

It’s Steve, sitting on a rusty and banged up glider at the opposite end on the porch, lit up just like he is. “So, uh. I guess you’re a part of this now?”

“I guess I am.”

Steve just nods and responds simply, effectively ending the conversation, “Right.”

But that’s not satisfying to Billy. He might appreciate peace more than what’s going on in that house, but he doesn’t like empty silence either. “What’re we all awkward like this for, Harrington? Spit out what you’re thinkin’.”

“I dunno, man.”

Billy frowns, prompting, “Come on. I know them gears are turnin’ over there. You've been quiet since we all got here.”

Steve looks away from him, but he does answer, “I dunno it’s just.. We’ve lost so much. People died because of this. People I knew. And I don’t like that anyone else is involved I guess.”

Billy scoffs, “Even me? You don’t even know me other than the asshole you met at the party last night.”

“So? What do you mean even you? I don’t want anyone anywhere near those fucking monsters. Could be my worst enemy and I’d still save them. I’d protect anyone from those things.” The haunted look behind his eyes, which seem so tired the longer Billy looks, tells Billy everything he needs to know.

He doesn’t mean to sound so soft when he asks, “What makes you so confident you can? Save ‘em I mean.”

“I fought a demogorgon myself. Well, not really by myself. Nancy and Jonathan were there. But I took a nail bat to its fucking face. Like hell I’d just let one of those things get anyone. Even you.” Steve

Billy flicks away his burnt out cigarette, sitting next to Steve on the old glider. “That’s real touching H, but I ain’t letting nobody sacrifice themselves for me. Need I remind you I’ve fought these assholes too.”

“But you told the kids you didn’t. Said it was all your friend.” Steve looks at him, sort of doubtful, but Billy blows off the remark, “No shit Sherlock. I ain’t airing all my business to any nosy brats like them.”

“I get that, but.. “ Hesitantly, he clarifies, “Is.. your friend, you know, even real?”

Billy must look at him like he grew a second head, “Shit, man, you think I’m one of those freaky experiments? No way. ‘Course he was real.”

“Oh. You said ‘was.’ Does that mean...” Steve’s voice trails off, sparing him hearing the words out loud.

“Don’t know. He got caught about two years back. Haven’t heard from him since. They might’a brought ‘im back here, they might’a killed him. I dunno.” Billy shrugs, picking at his nails while he talks so he doesn’t have to acknowledge Steve, or the fact that he’s even admitting this shit to him, “That’s why we’re here in Hawkins though. Susan’s got family over in Hope and a little ways up by Indie, so I suggested Hawkins. Just to come see where he came from. Get some closure I guess.”

“Guess he was really important to you then?” Steve smiles softly, but Billy only sighs through his nose, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll meet someone like him again.” He offers.

Somehow that sentiment immediately sets Billy on edge though, something about his tone implying that he knows, knows him and six were more than just friends, and Billy really doesn’t want to face that kind of monster tonight. He snaps, suddenly defensive, “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

Steve’s face falls a little, evidently surprised by how upset Billy is, and he tries to fix it, “Oh I just thought that, the way you talked about him- and you look so sad when you do- that he was, you know, special to you.”

“So what? You gonna leave me to the monsters or some shit for that?” Billy growls, quickly warranting more defense from Steve, “What? No way. No I.. I get it, Billy. I do. More than you probably think I do.”

Billy half nods, his shoulders untensing as he slowly recognizes Steve’s genuinity. He mumbles eventually, working through what he needs to in his head to be comfortable talking openly with him again, “Didn’t expect to be getting relationship counseling too. That your assignment on the team, mister romance expert?”

“Shut up. You’ve never seen me swing a bat before.”

“Oh believe me, I cannot wait to.”

Steve’s smile returns, something Billy is personally glad for, though he might not be ready for that realization yet. He bumps their shoulders together, to hold Billy's attention and let him know he’s genuine, “Still, in all seriousness man, I hope you can find someone else like that for you. I know it’s not really easy pickings around here.”

This time, Billy’s tone is light, his features soft and vulnerable for the boy next to him, for the way he makes him feel less weighed down, less alone in this, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

No doubt in my mind where I belong

Ok, so I've been thinking about this one for a while and anyone who follows me will know just how incensed I still am at the whole 'Paddy locking Aaron in his own house' episode, so this is my attempt at trying to make it just a little more bearable. I've had to rejig the whole going on the run thing so canon as it was pretty much stops when Vic walks in to tell them that L** is dead.

I've used some of the dialogue from the ep itself, but yeah, I've tried to make it better.

(A03 link)

When he was a kid he caught the end of one of those dramas about the apocalypse and it scared him. He’d gone downstairs late one night, wanting some water and he’d peeked through to door to see his Mum and Dad watching it. For weeks after he’d had nightmares of the world ending and him being all alone. When it actually happens though, it’s not with a bang or anything so dramatic. In reality it’s two little words that bring his world crumbling down around him.

“Lee’s dead.”

The room is perfectly quiet at Vic’s words, as if none of them quite know what to do. All he can see is Robert’s panicked face. They both know what this means. It means a murder charge, at best manslaughter. It means Robert going to prison, possibly for years.

Then Robert’s talking, his voice carrying through the fog of panic that’s filling his head.

“If anyone’s going then it’s me on my own.”

He stares at him, their silent conversation telling him everything. His next words are the truth, he’s useless without him. There’s no question that he’s staying behind

From then it’s a rush, making sure Seb’s taken care of, that Vic will take him back to Rebecca and try to explain, packing enough clothes for the night, they don’t have time for anything else. When he comes out of the bathroom, hands full of stuff they might need he finds Robert sitting on the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is this the right thing?”

“Yeah. There’s no other choice. Robert we don’t have time. We have to go.”

“We won’t get anywhere, you don’t think they’ll have my name everywhere as soon as they can? How will we even get out of the country?”

“Look, let’s just get out of here first and then we’ll sort it. If we stay here the police will come and then we’ll have no choice. If we leave we have a chance.”

“I should go on my own. You don’t need to be dragged into this.” He shakes his head, there’s no way, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “I mean it. Your family, the scrapyard, I’d be dragging you away from it all because I was stupid.”

“You’re my husband, you think that stops just because things get tough? I meant those vows you know. Now come on, get packed.”

Even in his wildest dreams he hadn’t thought it would be so hard to say goodbye to Seb. He tries to say everything he needs to while the little boy plays with his trucks. The little boy he’d once thought he could never love, who had won him over the minute he held him. Would he ever remember them, would he hate them for leaving him like this? He presses a kiss to the top of his hair and then makes his excuses about sorting the two cars because he can’t watch Robert say goodbye to his son.

By the time Robert’s done his Mum and Paddy are there and he makes the goodbyes as quick as he can but of course his Mum doesn’t want him to go, using the baby to try and stop him, demanding he doesn’t leave. He says the only thing he can.

“I choose Robert.”

—————

It was idyllic, the sun coming through the trees, the only noise the birds singing and the distant hum of traffic.. It really was idyllic. If he closed his eyes he could imagine they were on a picnic, the three of them, Seb taking a nap after wearing himself out exploring, he and Robert enjoying the quiet. Instead he’s looking around expecting the police to jump out any second. They’d driven for an hour, far enough away that they wouldn’t be found quickly, driving the cars down a track that looked like it hadn’t been used for years, deep enough that it couldn’t be seen easily, and now they were waiting, sat in the woods like they had years before.

"So we're agreed?" Robert asks breaking the silence. They’d talked this over so many times and there was no other way.

"Yeah." They needed to get out of the country and to do that they needed passports. Robert’s contacts had come up blank, leaving Aaron with no choice but to call Cain. Now it was all set. "I'll go and get the passports from Cain and more of our stuff, then meet you. Cain can pick up the car we leave later.”

"And you're really sure? Because it's asking a lot I know and I won't...if you wanted to stay."

"I'm sure." It wasn't even a question. No one got it, not his Mum, not Liv, no one. He thinks maybe Cain comes the closest. He had to be with Robert. Couldn't even contemplate letting him go. “Like I said, useless without ya, aren’t I?”

“I know but…we can never come back Aaron. Can you really handle not seeing Liv again, or your Mum or the baby?”

“I can’t handle not seeing you again. I’m not saying it’ll be easy but there isn’t a choice. Throughout our lives together remember. That wasn’t just about the easy bits.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Stuck with me now though.” Robert grins, the first one since they’d heard the news and he smiles back. “Right, so you find somewhere near the port then text me.”

“Right.”

“I’ll find you and then we’re gone.” It sounded so so simple, he could only hope it was that easy in reality.

"Then it’ll be me, you, little chateau, by the river maybe.” It sounds like a dream.

“We could even get a little veg patch."

"Fancy yourself in a pair of wellies do you?" Robert's laughing and for a few seconds he revels in it, the normality, before he sobers. "We're really doing this aren't we?"

"Looks that way."

"And it doesn't matter that we'll have nothing?”

“Are you forgetting I’ve done this before.” There was some kind of joke in there, going on the run twice in a lifetime. “ been there done it, got the criminal record

“You had Ed then.”

“Yeah, for all the help he was. Spent most of the first month panicking every time he saw a uniform. The security guard at the local supermarket nearly gave him a heart attack. At least you’ve got a bit of sense about you.”

“Cheers.”

“Listen to me, I don’t care what I have as long as I’m with you. What about you? I mean you're leaving behind just as much as I am."

"I don't have any choice though. I can’t handle prison Aaron, I know it. Anyway, I’d rather live out my days living my best life with you with nothing than not have you at all. But you, you have a choice.” He pretends not to hear the wobble in his voice because this is where they are now, they've made the choice. No going back.

“No I don’t.” They go back to sitting in silence, waiting, thinking, until his phone lights up. He picks up his phone. "It's Cain. He's got them.”

“That was fast.”

“Amazing what you can get if you offer enough money.”

"You're sure going back to the village is safe? Why couldn’t he meet you somewhere else.”

“I don’t know, there’s something up with him. I’ll be fine, I’ll be in and out. They can't get me on anything anyway. The worst they can do is hold me up but like I said, you wait twenty four hours and if I'm not there you go, however you can.”

"But..."

"No. You go. I mean it Robert you get away. I'll find you. Don't you dare do anything stupid like giving yourself up."

"Yes boss.” He takes a minute, just in case, to drink him in and then he’s getting up, kissing him, lingering as long as he dares before he leaves.

—————

He's halfway home when Cain calls telling him he's held up and to wait, that he's sending them over with Billy. Aaron rolls his eyes at that, him of all people. Whatever is going on with his uncle better be worth it.

He's sat at the edge of the village not daring to go any further until he has to, for all his bravado in front of Robert, he doesn't much fancy being hauled in by the police, even if they couldn't actually prove he'd helped Robert in any way. It would just waste time. Time they didn't have.

After he’s met Billy and got the passports and the cash Cain has managed to get together, he goes to the house, wanting to grab enough to tide them over for a few days. Sentimental it might be but he threw a few pictures of Seb in too alongside their wedding album. At least they’d have the memories wherever they ended up. As he’s zipping up the bag he hears the door slam downstairs.

"Hello?" Instantly on edge he grabs the bag making his way to the top of the stairs, half expecting find a police firearm in his face. Instead he finds Paddy standing between the stairs and the door. "Paddy, what is it? I don't have a lot of time."

"I saw Billy.” Fucking Billy, he should’ve known he'd mess it up.

"I don't need this." He goes to walk past him, cursing Cain, but Paddy stops him, and that's when he sees Liv sat at the table. "Paddy get out of the way,"

"Listen to him Aaron."

"I know what he wants to say and I gave you my answer this morning. I choose Robert. Now move, I need to go."

“No. I can’t let you do this to your mother. Not when she’s in the state she is.” There it was the tone he was so used to, like he was a naughty child. He wasn’t that person any more.

“She’s pregnant Paddy, and everything is fine so there’s no need for the dramatics. Did she send you?”

“No, but she’ll probably know by now. I told Marlon.”

“Terrific. Why not just send an email to Hotten nick. So, what are you going to do about it? And what's your part in all this?" He switches his attention to his sister, suddenly mute in the corner.

“I’m trying to help you see sense.”

“Liv, don’t do this. You told us this morning, you said we should go.” All he gets is a shrug.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want you to go. At least let us talk. You didn’t even give us a proper chance to say goodbye.”

"You understand that the police could’ve turned up any minute night? Did you want me to throw a party?"

"Aaron."

"What!" He turns back to Paddy. "You know what. I don't have time for this. Robert's waiting."

"You're really going to throw your life away. for him?" The sneering tone whenever he talks about Robert is back. Had it ever gone away or had he just ignored it. “You won’t be able to come back. Can you really do that, give up everything? Everything you’ve managed to build up here, the life you have?”

“That’s what you don’t understand.He is my life! Nothing else matters except for him.”

“You’re about to do the most stupid thing imaginable. For him. He killed someone Aaron."

"A rapist. Don't you ever try and tell me I should feel sorry for someone like him. Robert did the world a favour and if you didn't hate him you'd admit it."

"He broke the law and just like always he thinks he can just get away with it,”

"You call this getting away with it? He wishes he was surprised that Paddy was behaving like this but he wasn't. "He's giving up everything, his business, his home, his family, his son. You think that's easy?"

"Maybe he should've thought about that before he killed someone. Maybe Seb will be better off." Aaron can't help himself, steps up in Paddy's face ignoring Liv's protests and it takes everything he’s got not to push him out of the way. Only because it’s him does he not give into the urge.

“Whatever you think about Robert even you can’t deny he’s a good Dad. The best Dad, so don’t even go there.” He bends to pick up the bag again. “I’m done. I need to go, so are you going to let me pass?”

"No. You're staying here until you see sense.” Paddy nods at Liv and she finally moves. He frowns as all she does is go to the kitchen window. It takes a few seconds to realise she’s locking them.

"You're not serious?"

“Every door and every window is locked. I love you Aaron, you’re not going to get your own way. I'm not letting you ruin you life over him.”

"So you're keeping me prisoner?” He’s going to wake up in a minute and find this is some kind of drug induced nightmare he’s sure of it.

"If necessary."

"For how long?” They can’t be serious. Any minute now they’re going to laugh and send him on his way because he’s having a hard time believing that people he loves would do this to him.

"As long as it takes.”

"Best get comfy forever then because the second your back is turned I'm gone.” He’s not quick enough to stop Paddy moving past him and he can only watch as he throws the keys into the waste disposal.

“Oh that was clever. So tell me, how are you going to get out?”

“I’ll think about that when you’re not being so stupid.” He sits in the chair he’s moved to in front of the door, the one he picked out, the one they argued over because it didn’t match the sofa and Robert hated, the one he insisted on because it was big enough for both of them to sit in if they were really close.

“I’m being stupid? You’ve just locked three adults in a house and thrown the keys away. Real mature that. Now you’ve had your fun, but I’m done. You either let me leave or I’m callin’ the police.”

“Go ahead. I doubt they’ll let you go any more than I will.” He just stares at him, wondering where the Paddy he used to know had gone. The one who had seen him through one of the toughest times in his life, who had sat by his hospital bed when he’d thought there was no point in carrying on. The person in front of him wasn’t that man, he didn’t know who this was.

“I’ll have to take my chance won’t I?”

”Aaron. Don't be ridiculous. You’ll go to prison!”

“Fine. Not like I’m going to have a life here is it? If you’re willing to stand by and let me go back there then so be it.” He’s bluffing, it’d kill him he knows it would, but maybe just maybe it’ll bring them to their senses.

“He’s not worth ruining your life over!”

“See that's what you don't get. He is my life. Without him…without him I don’t have anything.” He ignores the cry coming from Liv. He didn’t mean to hurt her but he’s only speaking the truth. Without Robert he’d merely be existing.

He knows exactly how it would go, a repeat of the months after they broke up. The sympathetic looks would last for so long and then their tactics would change, the odd mentions of cute guys, of how he should get out more, how Robert wouldn’t want him wasting his life. He wouldn’t be able to cope with it, not again.

He has to come up with something, he was wasting time here, and they weren’t going to budge he knew that, but he had to get out. He’s frantically trying to think where there might be a spare key hidden. Robert was obsessive about them losing their keys so he had them stashed everywhere but right now his brain is so muddled he can’t remember where he put them.

“Seeing sense are you?”

“No, just trying to work out how to get out without hurting you.”

“You can’t. And besides we can’t let you. You’ll see we’re right in the end. You know the police, they’d think he masterminded this. All you’re doing is adding time to his sentence when they catch you, which they will.”

“We’ll be long gone by then.”

“You and Robert against the world? Do you think that’s going to last forever, that you’re not going to resent each other for everything you’ve had to give up.” They’re wrong and he wants to shout it from the rooftops. He doesn’t have anything to give up that’s worth more than Robert and if they’re together then nothing else would matter.

“This is our only option you know, I’m not choosing this.”

“But Robert did. Robert chose the day he ignored you and Victoria, the day he went out and attacked Lee, just like I did the day I went to Pierce’s office and smacked him one for what he did to Rhona.”

“There you go. He was just protecting his sister.”

“But she didn’t want that Aaron. Can’t you see, this is what he does! He always has to get his own way! It was all about him, and what he wanted. I was the same, it was about my need to do something. Ended up nearly ruining the court case for Rhona in the end.”

“Yeah, well Vic didn’t even get a court case did she?”

“That’s not the point and you know it. He still killed someone, someone’s son, someone’s brother.”

“Paddy you really are mental if you think I’m going to feel one ounce of sympathy for a rapist.”

“Aaron, he’s not a hero. He’s selfish, and he’s reckless and I know you don’t want to hear this but if he valued your marriage even half as much as you do…”

“Oh Paddy will you just be quiet. You know nothing about our marriage. The only time you bother with us is to tell us what we’re doing wrong or when Mum drags you. I get it, you don’t like him.

“And why is that? He’s turned you against us, me and your Mum.”

“No, no. You’ve done that yourself. Do you think he didn’t tell me what you said before our first wedding? When we broke up? Always in his ear like an annoying little flea aren’t you, whispering your poison. Whatever you say isn’t going to change anything, you might as well save your breath.”

“This is the man who tried to kill me. Twice. He cheated on you. He had a child with someone else and then forced you to take him on. He’s not yours Aaron and he never will be, not really.” That hurt, even now after all this time, because it’s true, in reality he’ll never have any claim on Seb. He knows that if this goes wrong, if Robert ends up in prison he’ll lose the both of them.

“No. You stop right there. I love Seb. You know you’re so obsessed with biology and yet you reckon I’m your son.” He shrugs, biting his thumb nail. “When was the last time you saw Leo?”

“What?” Finally he thinks he’s managed to wrong foot him, sitting there with his head tilted to one side, a habit that Aaron hadn’t realised was so annoying until today.

“When did you last see Leo. You do remember him don’t you? Nearly nine years old, blonde, you used to call him your son.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you lecturing me on all of Robert’s wrongs when you're not so squeaky clean yourself are you. Now you’re with Mum you barely want to know Leo. I suppose I should be thankful you still speak to me, although right now I’d rather you weren’t.”

“Aaron, why are you being so horrible? Paddy’s always looked out for you.”

“Has he Liv? Really? Where was he when I was going through the worst thing a person can go through? When I had to take my own father to court, to stand up in front of strangers and tell them what he did to me? Where was he?”

“Wait a minute…”

“No. He’s so keen to talk about Robert’s failings, but Robert was there. He listened to me, he let me talk, he didn’t lecture or tell me what was best for me. He stood by me the whole way through, he was there in court by my side every day.” He stands up and leans over Paddy, hands clutching the leather of the chair. “You, you turned up what twice and then as soon as it was over you upped and left me to it because you’d been found out after having an affair. That’s not what a Dad does.”

“You didn’t want me near you if you remember.”

“Because you’d had an affair! Something you keep crucifying Robert over. Face it Paddy, you’re a hypocrite. You hold everyone to such a high standard and yet you can’t even meet it yourself. If you truly loved me like you say you do you’d have been there anyway. I told Robert to do one numerous times and yet he was still there.”

“Oh Robert’s so perfect isn’t he?”

“I’ve never said that, no one is perfect, but he doesn’t stand on the moral high ground like you do lording it over everyone.”

“And yet he’s got you going on the run, away from your family. You can face the truth or not Aaron but he’s the one who’s put you here, all because he couldn’t control his temper."

“Whatever. I don’t need to hear this, just move.”

“No!” He’s shouting now, getting up out of the chair grabbing at his arm.

“Don’t be stupid Paddy.”

“Why, what you going to do? You gonna hit me?”

“No.” He’s so close all those old feelings of being trapped flooding back and doesn’t know if he can stop it. For all he’s better now, it’s still there.

“Well that’s the only way you’re going to get past me isn’t it?” It’s the hand on the shoulder that shakes him out of it, swings round so fast only to see Liv’s shocked face looking back at him.

“This is what he does you see Liv, lashes out, so he doesn’t have to listen, so he can turn it into a fight”

“You’re the one pushing me to it, and you know it.”

“Cos you know we’re right, like the last time you decided to beat me up.”

“Paddy stop it, that’s not fair.” He actually can’t believe he’s brought that up. He’s changed, surely he knows that. He’s not that petrified kid anymore.

“Tell me I’m wrong Aaron. Me, Jackson, James, Kasim, even Robert. Any time you’re in a temper or things aren’t going your way you lash out.” He can’t speak, just nods, fighting back tears, refusing to let them see him upset.

“Fine. If that’s what you think.” He sniffs, stands up straight. “If I’m so bad, if I’m such a violent person then you won’t need me around anymore.”

“Now hold on, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“No. Clearly I’m not someone you think very much of so there’s no point me staying any longer.” He wishes he was more surprised, but when he thinks back there’s always been an air of disappointment, like he’s never quite been good enough. He’d never be able to thank Paddy enough for taking him in, helping him, but it’s almost as if he’s expected to pay for that by conforming to his, and his Mum’s, idea of what his life should be like, and when he doesn’t they bring out the emotional blackmail, and bring up all his past mistakes.

He knows he’s done that himself, with Robert, can remember sitting on that sofa and calling Seb a mistake, seeing the light go out in Robert’s eyes as if he’d realised that he’d never be able to forget that one moment of stupidity. He should never have done that, especially as he hadn’t even meant it, had just been lashing out in his helplessness over Liv. He knows how that feels, how could he have made Robert feel like that.

“You’re going to break your Mum’s heart.” He barely manages to stop from rolling his eyes. Maybe she’d be upset, no he knew she would, but deep down he knew she understood even if she’d never admit it.

“She’ll get over it. She managed before when I went to France.”

“And you came home then, what makes you think you’ll be able to do it this time?”

“I’ll be with Robert.” They could do anything as long as they were together, as sappy as that sounded. They’d already got through so much, this wouldn’t be the thing to break them. “He’s all I need, and you can argue all you like but it’s the truth. I’ll never forgive you if you do this Paddy, I swear."

“I’ll take the risk. I’m still not letting you out. Your Mum would never forgive me and you might not think so now but you’ll thank me one day.”

“It doesn’t matter, because like I told you, as soon as you leave I’m gone. You can’t keep me here the rest of my life.”

“I don’t need to, the police will catch up with him eventually.” He can’t believe he’d actually wish someone to go to prison like this, it’s such a world away from the Paddy he’d lived with, the one who’d taken him in.

“You know, I used to think you were the best, I wished you’d been my Dad, that I’d always had you. But that person, he would support me, he would understand. I’m twenty seven years old Paddy, I’m not that messed up kid you took in, not any more. You can’t force me into doing what you want any longer.”

“Someone has to. I’m not standing by while you mess up, again and ruin not just your life but ours too. You say you’re not a kid anymore, well start acting like it.”

He just shakes his head, there’s no point talking anymore, he was getting nowhere. He checks his watch, it’s been hours and he’s running out of time. It’s dark outside, surely someone will have noticed Paddy is missing by now but he can’t rely on that. He’d never be able to call Cain, they’d probably break his phone. No, he has to sort this himself, has to stop relying on other people.

All he can think about is Robert sitting somewhere alone, waiting, wondering. Maybe he thinks Aaron’s had second thoughts, has decided he’s not worth it, hates that he knows it’s the first thing Robert will think and that he can’t do anything to take that away.

He can’t bear the thought of him out there alone, knowing no one, having to hide, not being able to contact anyone. At least if he’s with them then they have each other.

He needs a plan, because there is no way he’s letting Robert believe that Aaron doesn’t love him enough to do this.

“Have you ever been in love Paddy?” He asks quietly. Liv’s asleep and he doesn’t want to wake her.

“What?”

“I said have you ever been in love?”

“I’ve been married four times.”

“We both know that means nothing. I mean real, intense, passionate love. The kind where if you’re away from them too long it actually aches. The kind where you’d willingly die just so they could live. Have you ever felt like that?” He’s silent, like he knew he would be. “Because that’s me and Robert. That day, in the car, I told him to go, to save himself, to leave me so he could save himself.”

“So?”

“So...if you’ve never felt that then you can’t even imagine how much you’re hurting me right now.” For a minute he thinks maybe he’s got through to him, Paddy’s staring at him and maybe he’s finally seeing it.

“See, if that’s true, then Robert would willingly let you stay so that you could have your life when he can’t have his. He wouldn’t make you do this.”

“For God’s sake Paddy, he’s not making me. The only one making me do anything is you.” He doesn’t answer and Aaron sighs, sitting back in the chair.

They sit in silence for hours. His eyes are permanently fixed on the clock over the mantelpiece, the minutes and hours ticking by. He’s seriously short of time now, and if he doesn’t get out soon there’ll be no point. He looks around, Liv’s still curled up asleep on the sofa worn out from the constant arguing. Paddy’s still in the chair, he looks asleep but Aaron’s not going to take it for granted.

He’s about to give up hope when it comes to him, can only hope they haven’t realised, that they’ve forgotten it. He wishes it didn’t have to be this way, wishes he could’ve made them see that this was what he wanted, that without Robert there was no point. They’d never change though, so convinced that what they believe is true, and he had to do what was best for him.

Once upon a time he would’ve caved, would’ve given in just to keep them happy, that it would be the only way they’d love him, if he did what they wanted. He knows better now, Robert has taught him that love is unconditional, or it should be.

He gets up, checks they’re still sleeping. As quiet as he can he picks up the bag, eyes fixed on Paddy silently begging him not to wake up. As soon as he’s in the bathroom with the door locked he springs into action, nearly cheering when he finds the window unlocked.

“Not so clever after all eh?” He whispers, pushing it as wide as it’ll go, throwing the bag out onto the ground.

He studies the window, hoping he can fit. Then again, Robert did. If nothing else it’ll give them a laugh later on.

Before he knows it he’s out, the night air cool around him. For a second he thinks he should break back in, let them out, but he reasons with himself that the two of them got into the mess, they would have to get out of it. He drags his phone from his pocket dialling the familiar number.

“Robert? It’s me.” His voice is shaking from the adrenaline and he wants to laugh at the fact he’s just escaped from his own house. He would if it wasn’t so ridiculous and he wasn’t so angry.

“Aaron, what’s taking so long?”

“I’ll explain later. Where are you?” He gives him the name of a place and then he’s quiet and Aaron knows he’s waiting for him to tell him he’s not coming, that he’s changed his mind. “Rob?”

“I’m here.”

“I’m on my way. I promise.” He tells him, jumping into the car. He wishes they’d had time to find another car but as it is he’ll just have to be careful and as much as it would slow him down he’d have to keep to the speed limit to avoid any unwanted attention.

“I’ll wait.” He smiles. That’s all he needs to know.

He doesn’t want to leave Liv like this, he knows she’d only done it because she cares. Maybe Paddy did too, but there was a part of him that knew if it had been anyone but Robert, they wouldn’t have stopped him. It has to be this way. Maybe one day they’ll see each other again, somehow. Maybe one day he’ll forgive them, but right now that’s not important. What’s important is his future and he knew exactly what that meant.

His future was with Robert now.