#i should block that faggot actually

[succubi-tch]

Cannot fucking stop thinking about the fact I saw someone claim that Americans are "genetically stupid" full fucking unironically in this day and age. Their blog was like fucking covered in madoka and other cutesy shit like bitch... You live like this????

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 8

Hello! It does look like there is only one more chapter to write on Paper Hearts so yay!!! I'm not sure how much longer Sweet Home Indiana is but it's nearing it's end too.

Steve is never going to go to another party after this, Eddie gets book two of the Boy with a Bat, and they have a frank discussion about how Eddie gets paid for his less than legal side gig.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

trigger warning: homophobic language by an OC.

****

At least the swim team knew to how to throw a party. Lyle was hosting and even though his family wasn’t well off, not like Steve’s parents, there was still enough room for the whole team and a few of their friends to have a good time.

Granted there wasn’t any booze, not openly anyway, but there were ice chest after ice chest of canned sodas. And all kinds, too. Steve was on his third Coke and had already sussed out the dude with the beer and was working his way over.

Going right up to the guy was asking for trouble that neither of them wanted.

The music wasn’t too loud, but you could dance to it in the main part of the house. People were actually laughing and having fun.

Which really should have been Steve’s cue. The universe was out to get him and wouldn’t let him have a moment’s peace.

He had almost reached the guy with the beer when Ezra blocked his path.

“Hey, Steve,” he greeted syrupy sweet. “I’m so glad you made it out. I wasn’t sure if you would come without Eddie Munson.”

Steve frowned and tried to move around his co-captain. “I go lots of places without Eddie. I went to nationals without him, didn’t I?”

Ezra put his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him. “Sure you did, but we didn’t win nationals now, did we?”

Steve looked down at the hand on his chest. “We swam our hearts man, the other teams were just better. Hell, that team from Georgia was on fire.”

Ezra snorted and rolled his eyes. “They only got where they were because they were black. They didn’t have any real talent. Not like us. Not like you and me, Steve.”

“Are you saying Lyle and Nick held us back?” he asked with his brow furrowing deeper in his confusion.

“We’ve always known that Lyle is a strong swimmer and not a fast one,” Ezra moaned waving the drink in his other hand around. “But he’s all this shit town has on offer.”

Steve gently pushed Ezra off of him. “Hey, how about not talking shit about the actual host, man.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he huffed. “That’s not even why I’m over here. I’m here to warn you about Munson.”

And there it was. Everyone in his life had felt the need at some point in the last six months to warn him off the super senior.

The other boy leaned in close, his lips a snarl. “He’s a queer, a little faggot boy,” he hissed, the spit landing on Steve’s face. “It’s the town’s worst kept secret.”

Ice slid down Steve’s spine. Oh shit. Of all the places he thought the other co-captain was going to go, that was not it. Drugs. DND. The ranting on table tops. All that slid away to sheer terror.

“And you better not bend over in the showers,” Ezra continued, “a pretty thing like you would just be his type.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wha–what do you mean?”

“Everyone knows that if you can’t pay for your weed,” Ezra sneered, “that he’s willing to take a blowjob as payment instead.” He leaned further into Steve’s space, so that they were almost touching, the stench of weed radiating off the other boy in waves. “I saw Harry Masters sucking him off for a gram of the good stuff.”

Steve stomach lurched and swooped, bile rising up in his throat. Harry Masters was on the baseball team. He was tall, good looking, with that devil may care charm of Rob Lowe. Looked like him, too.

“What he does or doesn’t do doesn’t effect me, man,” he said, trying to aim for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

Ezra laughed in his face.

“Dude,” he cackled, “if you didn’t want people to think you’re down bad for ‘the Freak’ maybe rein in the eye fucking. I’ve seen the way you look at him and it makes me sick.”

That was when Steve got it. He had been wondering what the hell this conversation was.

“Oh my god!” he laughed. “Fuck, man, you were scaring me for a second there. You’re just jealous I don’t have the hots for you.”

Ezra pushed him. “The fuck I do, Harrington!”

“No, no!” Steve crowed. “I’ve got it all figured it out. All the times I caught you staring at me, all the times I felt someone watching me, all the times you’d try to keep me late after practice. You wanted me all to yourself.”

His co-captain turned purple with rage and swung at Steve, but before he could even flinch, there was someone at his side, holding Ezra’s wrist to keep the hit from even going anywhere near Steve’s face.

“Eddie!” Steve breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie smiled at him with that soft dimpled grin Steve loved. “Hey ya, Stevie. I was just plying my wares when I heard the commotion and came over to make sure you were all right.”

“So you are my good luck charm,” Steve said brightly.

Ezra wrenched his arm out of Eddie’s hand. “This doesn’t concern you, Freak!”

Eddie leaned in close and cocked his head to the side. “It does, because you were talking shit about me and Stevie, here. And as Stevie’s good friend, I’mma gonna come to his rescue. Now, you’re going to skedaddle on home and sleep all this off.”

Ezra spat in his face. “Or what?”

The older teen just smiled menacingly. “Or else that gram you smoked will be the last you ever smoke, because I’ll report to you for doping for matches.”

Ezra paled and he gulped. “You can’t do that! I’ve never done anything but weed.”

“That’s true,” Eddie admitted. “But they’d have to do this big investigation and your name would be dragged through the mud. Or you could toddle off and go to college and leave this town in your rearview mirror.”

Ezra turned on his heel and ran out of the house as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “You do know this is where all the allegations about you being a devil worshiping cult leader come from, right?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “They can think all they want.”

*

Eddie and Steve talked about what Ezra had said about how people make payments for their weed.

“I won’t deny that people have offer to blow me or even have sex with me in exchange for drugs,” Eddie said as they lay curled up on his bed. “But I’ve never taken anybody up on that.”

Steve twisted his head to look up at his boyfriend. “I can’t say I’m not pleased to hear that, but is there a reason why?”

“Several,” he admitted pulling Steve in closer. “One is that there is an actual fucking pandemic going on regarding gay men, and I wouldn’t trust those assholes even with a condoms. Another is that if I say yes to one, then I’ve got to say yes to next guy. And as my supplier wants actual cash for his product, blow jobs aren’t currency in any country I know of. And despite what Ezra said, most of the people offering aren’t men.”

Steve hummed as he snuggled under Eddie’s chin. “I can see that. Any other reasons why you won’t?”

“Does having a super hot boyfriend count?” he chuckled.

Steve kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a very good reason.” His hand slipped down his boyfriend’s side and to his belt. “A super hot boyfriend who is very grateful for the rescue.”

Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers ghosted over his zipper. “Yeah and how are you going to show that gratitude?”

Steve slid down Eddie body and undid his belt. “I was thinking it was such a shame you didn’t get those blow jobs when your cock is so delectable.”

Eddie gasped and threw back his head as his super hot boyfriend’s breath felt hot on the front of his boxers. “God, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

And Steve spent their evening doing just that.

*

Steve fidgeted nervously at Eddie’s locker after school. He had finished the most recent comic with only a week of school to spare. He had made sure that Jonathan and Nancy weren’t staying after school for any reason so they didn’t see him make the hand off. He knew he should have just done it at the trailer, but with him cutting it so fine before the end of the year, he didn’t want to make Jeff and the others wait for it.

Eddie loped over to his boyfriend and looked around. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

He thrust the comic at Eddie, his eyes downcast. “It’s the most recent comic. There’s an explanation like before. But please don’t let people see that part.”

Eddie cradled the comic to his chest. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m guessing this means you aren’t coming over tonight?”

Steve shook his head. “Lucas wants to go see the latest Bond film, but his friends don’t want to go with him...”

“So you offered to take him,” Eddie finished. “That’s sweet of you.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “His parents think I’m taking him to ‘Meet the Littles’ or some shit like that.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, that’s more like the Steve Harrington I know and love.”

“I’ll call when I get home, though...” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” Eddie murmured. “Well talk then.”

*

This time Eddie went straight to the back page to read the explanation first.

“Hey, Eds,

Again there are parts in between this, parts that don’t include me, that I’ll some day tell you all about. But I’m focusing on the parts I was part of. This time it all started with what the kids thought was a new species of lizard and turned out to be the beginning stages of an Upside Down monster. One they they dubbed the demodog.

I can just picture you frowning as you try to remember where you heard that from and the answer is you heard it from me. You asked me what it was and I told you it from one of their game thingies, but that’s only part of it. These demodogs have flower faces and run on four legs. They are part of a hive mind that allows them to communicate with each other.

Dustin had taken one of these things home and it ate his cat. His cat. You can be disgusted, I know I was. He had originally gone to Nancy’s for help but she had gone off with Jonathan about something related to Barb Holland. This was right after our fight at the Halloween party.

I was on my way with roses to apologize to her, when he intercepted me. And the rest is as they say is history. I would do anything for that kid now.

The other players are Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield. I don’t know if you need to know that, but I feel like you have to understand that for the rest of it to make sense.

I have so many tales to tell you but I can’t because it could get you hurt and that is the last thing I want to do.

Also, (blurred words) show you all the times I was brave, that I did the (more blurred words) when it came (blurred words) because I love you so much and (blurred words again) less of me.

Love,

Your Stevie”

Eddie hated how easy Steve had pegged him for frowning at the name like he said he would or how he knew he would be disgusted at the poor cat. He stared at the blurred words for a moment before his own eyes welled up.

Steve had tried writing over the parts with what were clearly tear drops but all it had done was make it worse. Why he didn’t just write again, Eddie didn’t know.

But Eddie could now make out the words, “Also, I wanted to show you all the times I was brave, that I did the right thing when it came to it, because I love you so much and I didn’t want you thinking less of me.”

He flipped back to the beginning and started reading. It was thrilling and exciting. That was if you didn’t know it really happened. And happened to the sweetest boy he had the privilege of knowing.

He wiped away his tears and made a promise to whatever it took to protect this boy with every fiber of his being. Because by god, someone had to.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

@messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce

@acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras @ravenfrog

[blubushie]

https://www.tumblr.com/blubushie/758454164357513216/anytime-an-mlm-shipper-tries-to-pull-the?source=share

god so real, i can't scroll the tf2 tag without someone assigning medic every offensive homophobic stereotype under the sun. i've blocked so many people for the amount of "isn't he just fruitiest faggoty fag that has ever faggoted" i've seen. like i get it, you would see an effeminate man on the street and call him a slur and somehow this is okay because you are also gay or some shit. lol. lmao even.

FUCKEN OATH

I don't follow Medic's tag anymore for this reason. I'm fucking sick of seeing it and especially sick of seeing people call him "fruity".

This is somewhat off-topic but I see a lot of these young gays using "twink" when they want to say "faggot" because they know they can't call people faggots as a slur anymore. A lot of these kids haven't got it through their fucking head that slurs are never appropriate. Instead of "I should not call people slurs" it's "I should not call people THAT slur", so they just use other words (often gay slang) as a slur instead when what they want to do is call him a faggot with all the venom it carries. They talk a lot of shit but don't have the fucking balls to actually say what they want to say.

I'd rather be called a faggot on the street by some homophobic cunt than called a twink as an insult by someone who's supposed to an ally. An honest enemy is better than a deceitful friend.

[sauleline]

idk i feel like i should make an actual dni list.

terfs, fascists, exclusionists, "men dni", truscum/transmedicalists, support JKR, if you're red on shinigami eyes, unironically use a Gadsden flag anywhere on your profile, neofeudalists (ancaps), Harry Potter fans, DNI.

Also ill shoot (block) you if you don't pass the vibe check.

more general bio stuff, this blog supports trannies and faggots, I won't call you that if you don't like it, yeahg. More bio's in the bio.

i don't really have a tag system apart from "#this on booty shorts". its self explanatory. also "#Hideo "Video Games" Kojima" for anything about hideo "video games" kojima

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

im so sorry to send you this but im confused. i thought izzy hands was obviously homophobic while i was watching the show but now people on the internet are telling me that calling him gay and homophobic is a conspiracy theory. i want to trust my instincts on this as a queer myself but they say it so much i think im starting to believe it. i know literally none of this matters but its genuinely bumming me out. maybe we all just have slightly different definitions of homophobia?

I would love to answer this for you. Your instincts are correct. Izzy is gay and homophobic. You should trust your gut on this because it's important for you be able to identify guys like Izzy irl if you're someone who might be on the receiving end of homophobia.

What happened is that back in June of 2022 everyone fully agreed that Izzy was one of those repressed gay men who's internalized homophobia rotted his soul and became externalized. We wanted to put him in a jar. We all interested in how this weird little freak got this way. Then everything changed when the canyon formed. Since then it has been a mad dash to beat the allegations. Unfortunately an actor has validated them in a way that makes me really wonder about him frankly, because he seems to be operating under the impression that people are saying that Izzy is a "homo sex is sin" Style homophobe when nobody was saying that, what we were saying is that Izzy is incredibly weird about and hateful towards feminine men and he believes that Stede is corrupting Ed with his foppishness, which is still homophobia it's just a different brand of homophobia than the religious right's obsession with the mechanics.

Tbh tho I don't actually care about that actors' take because he's not a writer, he has a history of not being very good at reading the subtext given that he fully didn't realize it was a gay show for half the episodes, and David Jenkins has liked multiple metas on twt about Izzy being a homophobe so I'll trust that lol. The only consequence that Con O'Neill being publically wrong has had for me is that people occasionally do an unearned victory lap when he says something.

But also I low key sometimes feel incredibly unsafe knowing that there's a substantial group of people who claim to be queer and against homophobia but who can't understand that the whole subplot with Lucius in episode 5 and the thing with Ed in episode 10 is laced with bigotry against feminine gay men. I don't think admitting that means you have to think it's his only motivation or that it's contradictory to the read of him being attracted to Ed and Lucius or with the concept that he's mostly just power hungry, but it does sort of mean that I have to move through the world knowing that there are people in my own community who would fully blame me if something happened to me. I don't fucking like it. That's why I get so upset about this so publicly. It's like so what happens if I get attacked but the guy calls me a namby pamby or a bitch instead of a faggot. Are you gonna be like "well we don't know~". It's just an uncomfortable thought. I don't understand why they're so desperate to beat the allegations either, like he's fake. People who have experienced things like what Ed and Lucius went through at his hands are real. The argument that gay people can "do something to (someone)'s brain" is written into legislation trying to ban trans people from public life. Nobody wants you to stop liking Izzy we just want you to stop saying shit that's harmful

And I don't necessarily think that everyone who chooses to put more emphasis on Izzys obsession with Ed wouldn't be able to identify a hate crime, I just have seen more than one piece of meta that goes "Izzys not homophobic he just thinks Stede is a mincing fop who's corrupting Ed with his frilly whiles there's nothing homophobic about that" and I just have to block them for being homophobic themselves because what else do I do with that? When I vague post about this shit I'm talking about specific ass things that I've seen that have made me feel very uncomfortable and unsafe not generic canyon trends. I just really feel like we need to calm down about Izzy. Like you can feel empathy towards a gay guy that hates himself and write a bunch of fic about him getting laid without deciding actually he did nothing wrong and everyone who can see that that's not true is making shit up to oppress *checks notes* people who like a fictional character. I don't get why that's so hard to do.

[father-imperator]

obligatory intro post.

also my user used to be eli-being-silly if you're confused about who i am

hello! i'm eli (if you're a terf i'll bite you)

ME

name - eli

age - 16

pronouns - he/him (kind of apathetic though)

nationality - live in australia, scottish culturally

religion - agnostic ex christian, though i intend to convert to judaism once i'm 18

FANDOMS

like everything. bbc ghosts, sherlock, hell followed with us, the spirit bares its teeth, pjo, magnus chase, the kane chronicles, the magnus archives, malevolent, hozier, will wood, camp here and there, archive 81, the penumbra podcast, it, i am not okay with this, the secret history, the atlas six, if we were villains, dead boy detectives, the band ghost, mortal instruments, atla, etc. i like so many things i can't keep track of them.

DNI

i don't have any strict dnis. this is the internet, i'm posting on it, the general majority of the earth has access to the internet, so i can't expect that no one i don't like will see my posts.

that being said, the block button is my best friend, and please don't let my blog be a place for hateful bullshit.

DISABILITY

this might not be relevant for a lot of blogs, but i do post about disability on here, so i thought i should do a quick summary. i have hEDS, affiliated chronic joint pain, fibromyalgia, localised muscle dystrophy, autism spectrum disorder, pots, and chronic fatigue syndrome, among other things.

AHH. THE FORSAKEN PART: POLITICS

i am a leftist punk. i indiscriminately hate fascism, capitalism, and bigotry, and any and all byproducts.

trans people are facing a genocide in many places throughout the world.

respectability politics is bullshit. if you can support a white skinny cis gay man, but as soon as you see a black fat trans lesbian, or a trans person who doesn't want hrt, or someone who is kinky or a furry, or someone who uses neopronouns, or disabled queer people, or cishet ace men, or people who call themselves faggots or transvestites or transsexuals, your allyship is irrelevant.

palestine must be freed. israel is a fascist, colonialist theocracy. that being said, jewish people have a right to self determination, and i'm fucking sick of people using the ongoing situation to justify antisemitism. hamas is evil, the idf is just as evil but much more dangerous because every major political power sponsors it.

(tl;dr) i hate netanyahu, i also often hate people who hate israel because they think that israel is jewish. they're antisemitic, not decolonialist. just like how decolonisation doesn't mean we have to push every white person out of america, israeli people should not be forced off that land

political and religious zionism are different and people's actual thoughts can't be expressed over a tumblr post, you need three hours, a pot of tea, and two armchairs to properly understand someone's beliefs.

if you're confused, i'm very very happy to talk with you in dms, even if you just want to make some casual conversation :) i love making friends

[seducey-diabolik]

So while its true that Fujoshi have saved animanga before this only applies to shounen. Shoujo and otome have never relied on fujoshi and to credit them discredits the actual fans who keep the shoujo magazines and manga alive along with the yume communities in otomes.

Every one has unsourced claims that BL doujinshi have saved otomes such as Dialovers. However this claim goes against the actual evidence that YUME shippers, the primary audience of otome and shoujo, are the ones saving and keeping these genres afloat. This is well documented, using Dialovers as an example: it started as a bdsm drama CD (Diabolik Lovers Do-S Vampire Vol.1 Ayato Sakamaki being the first one released in December 2011) that ended up so popular in yume communities that Rejet created Diabolik Lovers ~Haunted Dark Bridal~ in October 2012.

Its important to note that all the love interests in Dialovers are brothers, but even with that there was a small fandom shipping them. But this was greatly overshadowed by the larger Heroine x Love Interest Community since that is the primary audience for Dialovers.

This isn't to say Fujoshi don't have a place in yume communities, except that they have always considered the other as an "opposite" of eachother in Japan. Neither are particularly respectful to the other when visiting eachother. A big problem in western fujin spaces is Gay Fudanshi using their gayness as a shield to be horribly misogynistic to female yumejoshi, quoting a now deleted (i think I blocked them months ago) twitter user "you should have just called me a faggot if you wanted to be homophobic" when simply given an explanation on why you should tag your LI x LI art, basic fandom etiquette. However yumenushi harrass fujin with long rants about how 'this character can't be gay they're married to ME!" (I'm sure you've seen that post about that Aizawa self shipper)

While there are Yumenushi who are apart of the fu crowd, due to the hostility on both sides they have to seemingly pick and choose which sides they "agree" on. A lot of fujin uses arguments of being homophobic to yumenushi, however a lot of them act very hostile to queer yumenushi, especially women who are shipping themselves with women. As a result yumenushi uses the argument of being misogynistic, however they can be just as misogynistic towards Fujoshi.

[barin-mclegg]

Whatever, one more time.

This is not about Gaza specifically. This is not about anyone specifically. "Help two trans women pay rent" is also 'fundraiser or whatever" territory. I do not see how that makes me racist

I'm not actively stating anyone should die, that I don't pay to any charities, that my life is miserable, that I won't ever reblog. I could just as well be funding half of an orphanage in Kenia, or donating to a local homeless shelter, etc etc. You'll never know, because that classifies as private information, and you're mostly assholes that don't deserve jackshit from me.

I specifically said that I don't want people to send them to me. Personally. So, put them in my messages, in my asks (not relevant bc my ask box is permanently broken, but the point), don't tag me specifically. For two of those 3, you need to specifically go to my blog anyway. So this is the best way to make it clear it won't do anything but waste both of our time and energy. I think this is the most respectful way of making that clear.

Yeah it causes me stress to see fundraisers of all kinds in the wild. Whatever. Your blog, your business. I just don't interact, if there's a tag I block it, I just don't want to be there. Again, I think this is the most respectful way of dealing with it.

My personal situation, mental and physical health, exact fucking age (menta or physical), and all that buzz, is none of your business. Fuck right off. Any judgements made about me when I was being actively harassed and getting torture threats, death threats, and suicide baiting is NOT ACCURATE. Wanna guess why? That's right! Emotionally distressing situations have impact on someone's behavior and wellbeing! If you've harassed me, you're the bad person here. I don't care, yes you are.

I DO care. Again, emotionally distressing situation. I said more shit I don't mean, or at least not in the way that it'll be read by, again, people that don't KNOW OR UNDERSTAND ME. I care that bad shit happens in the world, but I can't do shit about it, so I mostly choose not to talk about it or educate myself. This also means I have no opinion on said subjects, because I'm not a fucking dickhead about not knowing things, like most of you.

Yes, my shittiness at communicating IS part of my disability. "ohh disbaility can't do that" Ohhhh so if you can decide why people can't do shit than maybe you should decide that everyone should have a cool life and be a reasonable person, huh? Shut up. You're just a big bitch, at this point. Yes, it's disability, yes, I'm diagnosed, no, you can't fucking know anything more than that. Or are you going to tell my your full medical history and home address? And proof that you're not making shit up? Because then we can talk about the terms of me telling you anything about myself.

To the reasonable people: I greatly appreciate how unhatable you are.

To everyone in general: I, too, am reasonable when not being actively attacked. Try talking to me now. Actually, don't I'm glad for the silence. Also, don't call me a faggot, we're not buddies, you don't get slur rights.

I in no way see how what happened between me and 3000s on the eel post is YOUR business. Most of you are just miserable drama chasers, and I think that's way sadder than curating your internet experience to your best efforts. Go smash some plates or jerk off or something, jesus christ. "Ohhh but I'm traumatized/in an abusive situation/whatever I can't do thattt" Oh my god that's the funniest response anyone could ever give to this. Ohhh god. That's so funny. Ah well, I can only dream, since reblogs are going off again as soon as I hit reblog on this. If your response is something like that do actually send it though it's sooo funny.

Have a reasonably alright day. I know that's what I'm doing, at least.

Don't send fundraisers or whatever to me.

[the-firebird69]

This is also the guy who put the tube up his **** we went in in Landrigan he says is that gay guy who wiped out on the motorcycle and somehow says he can blame me and he's completely full of **** and he was not motorcycling with Will Pierce that was actually Trump and there it is again he's blaming me for what happens to him so what I say is you want to die now but really why don't you wait your turn and have predators take care of you and you guys force these things on these people and then you try and collect it and you're out front and you get cut in half and you're saying You're Trump and you're not you're this massive **** **** you're a huge faggot And yeah we're gonna go after him he's a Mac and he's been saying that he's Trump and he's not this is terrible these people are horrible to him pulling a gun on him operating on his balls having him hit his balls in the first place they don't know what the **** they're doing they're trying to say it's BJA. and they're fully aware that they both went over the stupid limb. Mean they both were on the jump and they both got injured and Mark Pitchell is BJ and he said you're so stupid it doesn't even work that way but we don't want to tell you because you're off but my God you're causing so many problems you shouldn't be Max at all we can't stand you dumb ****. And your act is so cheesy it's like fighting into a big huge block of cheese you're ruining us and it's not hard to do and we're in fighting and the foreigners are fighting us we're all gonna die so you're you're dumb what did you have him hitting the balls for what kind of stupid **** is that you got hit in the head because you're an idiot riding your motorcycle they told him about it then you said it was him. Then somebody had him run back in time and make it sound like him it's not him. And now this singer is cancer and she's supposed to be dead it's a Mac I mean this is stupid when you're **** business and get out of his face doesn't have any money in your pouring out on him and he's going to rip you to shreds and I've seen him just tear the **** out of people without trying. You're nuts you don't have anything to do with him a lot of people don't I spend a lot of time there if you don't bother me doesn't do anything you don't bother him like you're a stupid animal you get killed. OK so he was causing that he says how about you on a second round of it. Business we've been told three times. I'm **** **** we can't afford to fight each other we can't afford all this **** happening we can't afford to go through all this stuff and these idiots are gonna hit us the firing missiles at the Midwest and they're warning the hell out of us they're saying it's gonna be awful.

I can't believe the fullest stupid **** you're not up with the Times you're torturing him and teaching him and you wasted your time even being alive that's how you haven't seen us you stupid **** it's this lady you saw in Vegas supposed to be a huge favor holy **** you people are dumb is A is a business person like dad and you wanna make him feel sad and all that shady paint tickets he paid for the tickets and you should reimburse him 'cause he got more money and he knows about it you can't get him a damn thing the foreigners are laughing at us ohh look at me chris I'm dying who **** died maybe I'll get some money out of it well laughing is not funny it's true.

bja

We can't stand them anymore these macs are horrendous and all you people are worse it's gonna begin in a moment . You have this third round or volley and we're not ready coz you're being a someone who understands no you're copying people because you're damn dumb. So they're gonna send a third volley and they are going to get hit and we're going to hit them this valley would be pretty big it's gonna have some special limit and they mentioned it and it's going to be a problem it's gonna be a decent sized hit they say and it's not that many missiles when they get up to the 7th wave tomorrow morning around 8:00 AM it'll be like 2:00 million and that's not that many. And they'll be saying it didn't do anything. But that's not really the plan and the ship is up and it is almost 8:00 o'clock around 8:20 it's sundown so 1120 tonight the sundown in the Yucatan roughly 1020 really so there's a window there of like an hour and a half from 820 to 945 where we think that they will be hitting themselves and it's Trump style and he has got people doing it and it's not the Terminator movie yet but it will be shortly and BG is in a movie after this and it is a terminator movie it does happen right afterwards it is the first movie in the series it's in Mexico which is where these hit no and it's like Bailey's and it's a desert in south about it 1500 miles and he does some songs and leaves and Cesario begins but yeah he is at the border and that movie starts afterwards too and the same with Elysium you're a very ignorant . People what you do is disgusting. We're gonna show you how stupid you are'cause you're saying it to our son and yeah you can't tie your shoes to Santas you're gonna have to just sit there 'cause you're a moron. In meetings we're tired of you mouthing off. If you don't have it you don't have it. It's gonna hit momentarily& anymore stupid things into law with a Sharpey it's gross We've heard enough from you Sarah we know your perspective what he's doing is what he's doing is trying to fight them and what you do is you make this ball of **** **** and you can see what he's doing and it's amazing and it works what you do doesn't too much but he's using it somehow and he has to actually very mad at you idiots you didn't figure anything out we told you about we have to do it ourselves and he told us we're on our own we checked in it's true. The Revolutionary War analogy is proceeding. You are almost defenseless and using missiles as an insult you're insulting yourself and everyone else now you're an insulting prick OK you **** idol of people yelling you and swear you and threatening your position it'll come down on people and I need to heat you up thank you for the permission. And it says that the Santas and we're doing it now and he can't stand it so we have to do it till the rest of you idiots bothering him to hear morons and you need the treatment it's not fair that we're not doing it to you. We see how it works now

Thor Freya

Olympus

[talenlee]

The Seemingly Sudden And Impressive Presence of Actually Queer Anime Circa Right Now

Hey, do you know what I mean by ‘this user can say it?’

I want to say it’s a cohost meme but the idea is that there are some words that get treated as cursed or slurs or dangerous magical words that are reclaimed slurs, in the mouths of people who can reclaim them. Simply put, if I, a bi dude, want to make a joke where I use the word faggot, fuck off telling me I shouldn’t. And this led to the joke that ‘This User Can Say It’ was a flag that signalled that whether or not an individual wanted to out themselves in any specific way, they had the rights to use particular terms.

But I’m not here to talk about slurs I’m here to talk about anime. It should be no surprise to anyone who pays attention to the trends on this blog (so, Tab, gotyaoi, me) that there’s a low key anxiety about doing too much on this blog about too many anime. It wasn’t intentional but I’ve just been watching more this year and that means more of this year has been talking about anime.

Here then is a list of anime that won’t show up in the Story Pile, but absolutely Can Say It.

Birdie Wing

Yugioh Golf Lesbians. It’s Yugioh Golf Lesbians. I can’t believe that’s a useful summary of a real anime that exists and that it’s actually good, but believe it or not, Yugioh Golf Lesbians is a real thing, it really exists and it’s really enjoyable. The characters have crushes on one another, they are awkward about that relationship, they want to be around one another and tease each other and oh and also someone assassinates a golfer with a bazooka.

This series is silly in so many ways. Birdie Wing was going to be a June Story Pile. I wound up bumping it, not because it wound up being unworthy of being a Pride Month series, but just because it’s currently ongoing and if it’s a good two-season anime I’d rather watch them all at once and make a single unified block of it. Also, when I have as many possible options in front of me as I do, even a modest reason like ‘do both seasons at once’ is a good reason.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury

See also Birdie Wing. I really like Witch from Mercury! I think it owns bones! It has some truly heroic moments and the action is beautifully constructed and intense and oh my god I love these characters so much, and I love the setup for the second season that the first season left hanging, particularly because I can see a lot of a familiar experience in Suletta.

No, I was never a lesbian mecha pilot, I’m sorry.

Still, everyone gets a favourite Gundam I think and god damn if Witch From Mercury might be mine. Or 0080, I gotta finish that one. It’s also just so exquisitely good looking. I’m used to mecha anime having some fuzziness or sloppiness depending on when they show up. Late 90s mecha anime often relied on blockiness of the mecha to cover for animation errors, and mid 00s often were relying too much on 3D models that stood out. Whatever they’re doing in Witch From Mercury looks so good on its own.

I really look forward to seeing if this one has a coherent, solid throughline. But if it’s got a tragic end I don’t want to cover it in a Pride Month because we have time enough for queer tragedy the rest of the year. Let Pride Month be things that are cool and rule, and I hope that next year, that will include Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury.

Also, I get to double dip and maybe it’ll be a smooch month series because so many smooch month series fail to hold my attention because they don’t have sick ass mecha battles.

The Executioner And Her Way Of Life

If you watch the opening of this series and think hey does this get gay, let me assure that yes, yes it does, this is an anime that can say it, and will say it, and offers you its hand as it leads into a light novel series that gets not only canonically and repeatedly gay, but it’s gay in a way that I think resonates pretty hard with say, anyone who’s had a long distance relationship over the internet.

I think this series kinda rules! It will get an entry, you will be able to see it sometime this year! But also, it feels like this anime is set up to put every piece in place and explicitly outline a queer kiss, and it’s a very enjoyable narrative with a really enjoyable set of pieces all being positioned around one another…

and then slams the book closed before the relationship progresses. You get to see a queer yearning, a queer plan, a queer crush… but not queer love. Not queer life.

You do get to see a giant centipede monster girl though.

Do It Yourself

For reasons that make more sense when it happens, I already covered Do It Yourself. This is a series that Can Say It, but also doesn’t, which is a bit of a bummer considering the series is otherwise very wholesome and very sweet. It still owns an interesting spot in history which means it needs to live alongside another article.

It’s been written, it’s in the scheduler, it’s going to happen in time.

Princess Connect: Re-Dive

I don’t imagine I’ll ever write about Princess Crincess Rincess Dincess. I got it because the game attached to it shut down and I thought it’d be interesting watching an anime tie-in and see what you can assume or extrapolate about the game based on that. That idea didn’t wind up working out, because Redive Of A Princess Connection is just a pretty sweet, middlingly funny unimpressive anime, which means, eh, nah, not gunna bother talking about it. If you like cute girls that get thirty seconds of screen time each and the same four jokes each episode, then yeah, that’s this.

However, as a Pride anime, it does have a metatextual thing. See, Connection of A Princess and Her Redived Life is a sequel series to a game subplot, and it’s explicitly about the world resetting from a point in the game, changed in a way that means the villain kinda wins.

In the game, that villain is a dude. In Princess Connect But The Pryncess is Gwyn, the same villain with the same name is not a dude.

Trans girls will literally defeat the hero and reboot the world to get nice hair, and I think that’s admirable. It certainly sounds easier than putting up with the way doctors dole out the support.

My Master Has No Tail

I really liked My Master Has No Tail, which is a fun little anime about a Tanuki Girl who learns how to perform Rakugo theatre from a disillusioned kitsune pretending to be a human. This series kind of rules and it’s got this ongoing thread through it about people sustaining illusions about who they are, about how they interact with the world, and how they engage with art. Simply put, this is an anime that wants to be about how people are fooled and how we like to be fooled.

Unsurprisingly, this shows up in Tricks Month.

My Master Has No Tail doesn’t say it, but it absolutely could.

There! A bunch of stuff! If you’re just looking for queer anime to check out, and maybe if you want to see if you’re into them the way my articles wind up shaking out, you should check them out!

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Anime #Media

[peacefulworld2003feelthegroove]

I will say, it does kinda drive me crazy when people claim source as king in some discussion. Some discourse on here is like, defined by the self, and created out of individual thought. Sources don't always fit into the discussions you argue. And sometimes, your sources are just fucking false. Like how people used to in mass (and still do on a smaller scale) cite various texts for why "nonbinary people don't exist". That's a good example of the intersection of bogus and off topic- it's not about the biology of one's existence, one does exist, so there is no arguing the fact, just the act of repression and submission.

But I mean on a similar note of bad sources, I've seen people link REDDIT as a source. Someone posting "I'm a psychologist AMA" replies as a source. I'm sorry. First of all people can lie on the internet. Second of all psychologists are all quacks and just because one says something that aligns with your belief doesn't void that. Third of all, REDDIT? COME ON.

Some of you people will really be out and about here like:

"Guys, I've figured it out. I'm trans."

"No you're gay"

"What? This is a discussion about me..? I know myself best."

"Source?"

".. what? My.. own introspection?"

"OK well than why does studies show most trans people are just gay people who didn't know? [Links results of a Google survey done within a specific group of instagrammers 12 years ago, but links it through text that says 'source' that outsiders to the argument won't click] checkmate!"

"You... can't use a source about others to define me? I know what if your version of me is not that, than your perception of me is simply false."

"All you faggots know what to do is to harass me. Kys" [posts callout in the following day where they claim a selfie the OP took was actually a picture they took while OP came to their house to beat them]

Everyone on the outside: wtf this is terrible, this gay person comes to people's homes and tries to kill them. They got doxxed? Oh, i don't care. They deserved it lol, fucking serial killers like that should fry.

"Hey, I'm gonna be homeless soon. Any reblogs of my art would be appreciated if you can't commission. Thanks so much"

Everyone on the outside: omg did you just rb from [op] they're literally a killer... yeah and a serial harasser and a pedophile. You should delete that rb and block them and spread these Twitter threads and callout doc so more people don't make the mistake.

[horrorfan676]

Michael Myers x Male reader

The Halloween Party Massacre

It's been a long couple of years since the Haddonfeild Massacre. Every Adult is still freaking out about Halloween. Honestly, so were you.

It was because you had an encounter with Michael Myers yourself. He had killed your foster parents. You weren't complaining though. They were often abusive.

Recently, your boyfriend left you for your female best friend, Emma. You guys were planning on a Halloween party at the Myers house together but Emma replaced you.

" Are you excited for the party tonight, Y/n?" Kari asked. Kari was your friend ever since first grade. " Yeah, I'm excited to see Ben. I think he's into me." You respond.

"Why did Liam and Emma think that it is a good idea to host a Halloween party at the Myers house?" Kari asked. You shrugged your shoulders. Kari doesn't know that it was your idea.

"The party is about to start soon. We should get going." You said, changing the subject. Luckily, Kari agreed as you two got into her car. You live by yourself because your 18 years old and you don't want to live with anyone right now.

Every college student was there already, drinking and having fun. You and Kari walked into the loud house. "Hey, I'm going to get a drink and socialize." Kari yelled. You nodded your head as you feel a slight headache coming on.

Parties weren't really your thing so you weren't used to it. You carefully pushed the dancing students out of your way. "Hey Y/n, we didn't think you would come tonight." Liam yelled over the music. "Hey." You greeted awkwardly.

It was very uncomfortable to see Liam and Emma out together yet. "Let's go outside so we can here each other when we talk." Emma suggested. You agreed and walked out with the couple.

You actually thought that they wanted to catch up with you. Liam pushed you onto the ground. It was dark in the backyard so you couldn't really see much. "Kari told us that you liked me." Ben spoke as he walked up with Kari.

You didn't respond. You felt betrayed. You thought that you could trust Kari and that she was your friend but you were wrong. You couldn't believe that you actually feel for their lies. "I'm not a faggot." Ben said as he kicked your side. You were sure that was going to leave a bruise.

The boys kept kicking you as the girls cheered them on. If you had some muscles, you probably would've stood up for yourself but you were a Twink. They suddenly stopped. The girls started screaming as a knife went into Ben's head.

The three ran away, leaving you behind with a serial killer. You turned around to see that it Michael Myers himself. He stares at you for a couple of minutes before leaving for the house party.

You slowly got up when Michael went inside and started walking home. You were glad that your house was a block away. You can hear people screaming as you walk to your house.

They deserved it, especially Liam, Ben, Kari, and Emma. When you got home, you took a shower and got ready for bed.

Before you could fall asleep, there was a thud in the living room...

[papirouge]

The blog “opisaterf” is violently pro abortion btw. Just be careful, Idk if she’ll attack you for reblogging from her :(

She supports late term abortions for females and for babies with even mild disabilities, it’s so sad to see radfems fall for this type of oppression and think it’s liberating them

Honestly I couldn't even tell whether I ever reblogged from her lol

When I directly reblog radfem post that's bc I agree with the post's content - not necessarily the blogger as a whole. I NEVER reblog to argue radfem because they're (for the most part) INSANE and will lash out at you like a flock of harpies and I reaaally don't want this energy in my life lol Last time one of my post made its rounds in radfem circles and some tried to act smartass with me I shut them down real quick and blocked them. I'm too old for that stuff... smh

I've started screenshotting awful stuff radfem says for "receipts" in before I get accused of making stuff up. I literally saw radfem say female rape wasn't a thing, glamorize abortion, call stay at home moms "slave", "handmaiden" or "sperm receiver" unprovoked, call a pro-life gay teen a "AIDS ridden" "faggot" (while whining that conservatives are the homophobic ones...🙄), support female (serial) killers, say that male BABIES were misogynists/rapist in becoming and thus should be wiped off at birth, call babies "satan"..... These women are utter sociopaths.

How ironic is to see them mock TRA for being genital fetishists/weirdos but radfem really are no better in the lane of psychopathic behaviors.... They can be utterly unhinged, aggressive, hypocrite and toxic and it's about time they stop acting like victims for being unanimously disliked - some of them actually they deserve it.

In the end of the day, my goal isn't to pick fights with radfem, but actually expose how awful they can be and WHY some people -who aren't necessarily misogynist or TRA- are turned off by them. I know some radfem/gendercrit women follow me and I'm appreciative they have enough open mindedness and self awareness to try to acknowledge this reality.

Radfem love oppression when it means oppressing anyone remotely disagreeing with them or supporting the eradication of the most vulnerable populations such as unborn babies (arguing over their humanity) or people with disabilities (they want to prevent from existing).

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: One more chapter! You guys are a dream, thank you so much for reading ❤️

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, derogatory terms for homosexuality, blood/gore and death/dying

Word Count: 5690

—————————————

Eight: All Die Young

“Um… I think besides everything with Ricky… the night of homecoming was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.”

“With Bradley Lewis’s death.”

“Yeah. I-I mean, it started off as a normal day, a-a great day, actually.”

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

Awaking to a text from Stanley Barber, informing me that he was driving us to school, was a heavenly sight. Almost as heavenly as waking up beside the boy, himself in the near future. Grabbing my phone off its charger, I rolled onto my stomach and texted him back, my feet giddily kicking in the air. It amazed me how he could change my entire demeanor within seconds. I could go from a sniveling baby to a hopping and skipping lovesick fool when it comes to Stan. And I don’t even think he meant to have this much of an effect on me. I wondered if I had the same effect on him? I never really paid much attention to it, just accepted the fact that he would never reciprocate my feelings. Even during that time, I had no idea if we were a couple or just adoring each other. It didn’t matter, though. Stan was finally looking at me the way I wanted him to.

Jacob stared at me with unease as I skipped down the stairs, prancing my way into the kitchen for breakfast. “Mom, (Y/N)’s being weird.” He called out as he opened the front door to leave. Pam hushed him before handing me a plate of food.

“Hush, now, Jacob. Let her be in a good mood for once.”

“For once?” I frowned and sat myself down. Pam smiled over at me and gingerly kissed my forehead as I began eating.

“Yes. For once.”

When I finished eating and readying myself for the day, I received a text message from Stan.

Stan: I’m outside

Me: omw

Pocketing my cell, I called out to my family before stepping outside to see Stan in his car with a grin on his face. “Good morning, lovely!” He called out above his music as I strode up to the vehicle, climbing inside. I gave him my usual greeting before leaning over and kissing his cheek. He chuckled and waited for me to strap myself in before riding down our street. It was clear he was in a good mood, because he let me pick the music for the ride. As Waterloo by ABBA flowed out of the drawn-down car windows, I felt the comforting warmth of his hand latch onto mine. Our combined hands shook to the beat of the music as we happily sang the words to the song. Remember when I said I had only been this happy one other time? This was even better. There were never any consequences to being with Stan, never a dull moment, never a hint of doubt between our bond. I’d never been as close to anyone as I was to him. And now at last, we were even closer in more ways than one.

Stepping onto the school campus, we were no longer strangers. I still walked within my bubble, and I probably always will throughout my life, but from now on there was no need to allow Stan inside. He was planning to be beside me through it all. He wasn’t afraid to be alienated with me any longer, we were to embrace it together. We were going to allow the stares, the whispers, the rumors. Allow them to act as water on a duck’s back. I was proud of him, I was proud of us. Even as I felt the dark brown glare of Ricky Berry trail after the two of us, watching our bashful and lovestruck glances throughout classes, the way we held hands in the halls. I was certain he got the message that I was no longer his, despite the forceful way he claimed me the previous week.

At lunch, I was just about to declare my spot in line when I felt a gentle hold on my arm. Stan, with a warm grin, pulled me away and walked us to an empty table. “Um, Stan, I’d kinda like to eat lunch today.”

“I know, Nugget,” He held up two brown sacks. “I made lunch for the both of us.” The way his grin grew prideful made my heart swell in affection. We sat across from each other as he slid the bag over to me.

“Awe, Stanley, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, though,” He shrugged and watched as I took each item out of the bag and carefully organized them. “So, about homecoming. I was thinking we could make a big deal out of it. If you want to.”

“I totally want to,” I nodded, eyes trained on my task. “What were you planning, beautiful?”

I didn’t miss the bashful blush tinting his cheeks when I snuck a glance up at him. “Uh… Well, I was thinking when I pick you up, we can take, like, a shitload of pictures. Like, just let Aunt Pam go at it. She’ll love it.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And then after the dance, I wanna take you out to eat.”

“Really? Where to?”

“Nothing too fancy. You don’t like all that. I was driving around yesterday and saw this restaurant that specializes in their pasta,” I suddenly felt the tip of my nose being gently pinched. Looking up, Stan was playfully wiggling my nose with a goofy grin on his face. “I know how much you love pasta.”

“I do,” I laughed and swatted his hand away. “And after that? Are we robbing a bank and driving off into the night?”

“If only,” He wistfully sighed. “But alas, I’m afraid we’ll have to remain trapped within Brownsville until we’re old enough to run away.”

I gave a mischievous smirk. “The entire act of running away is rebellious. Why wait until we’re allowed?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t feel like running away,” We shared a laugh. “But in all seriousness, we go to my house and just chill. We can have a dance contest. Our last was a tie, remember?”

The antsy excitement rushed through my veins the closer the night approached. I was never one for making a scene about school dances, but this time was different. It was my senior year, I had Stan, Ricky was out of the picture. Or at least, he was for the next hour. After lunch, Stan walked me to photography class, the two of us hand-in-hand as we had been for the entire day. Approaching the door, he wished me a good class before leaning in and pecking my lips. Our fingertips lingered as he pulled away and continued to his own class. Feeling my burning cheeks, I turned to go into the room, but an arm blocked my path. “Hey, Zip.”

Inwardly groaning, I looked up at Ricky. His bruises were beginning to fade, the dark ring around his right eye taking its time to heal. I silently hissed at the sight of him. “What.”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize. Brad talked to me the other day and… made me realize that what I did was really fucked up. Really, babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You’re so fucking lucky I haven’t called the police on you, Ricky-”

“Yes, I know,” He sighed, discreetly rolling his eyes. “And I really appreciate it. Gives me a chance to better myself, you know? Help you better yourself. And what better way to make up for what I did than to make homecoming the most magical night for you? Yeah? We still on for tonight?”

My eyes dangerously widened at his hopeful smile, his expression melting under my fiery stare. “Are you kidding me?! Hell no! You think I wanna be anywhere near you?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“Besides, I already have another date.” I shrugged and moved to duck under his arm, but he leaned against the doorframe to decline me access inside. I quickly backed away from him, my fear kicking in at his brash behavior.

“What, Stan The Faggot? You’re really going with that fucking twink when you could be going with me?” He laughed right in my face. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.

“Don’t ever speak about Stanley that way. He’s the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met and is an even better boyfriend than you’ll ever be to anyone-”

“Boyfriend?!” He cackled. “I knew it. How could I not? It was so obvious! You’re fucking crazy.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t see the way he dresses? He’s fucking weird, (Y/N). He’s a goddamn drug dealer. What is he gonna offer you? Huh? Free weed? Babe… Come on, you are so better off with me.”

He lightly shook his head with a smile of disbelief as I took out my phone. “I just remembered. You’re not supposed to be near me, talking to me, or even looking at me. I think Jacob would love to hear about this-”

“Fuck you.” Ricky hissed before stomping away, leaving me in an empty hallway that was filled with the ringing of the tardy bell not too long afterwards. At that point, I was just about sick of guys. I was irritable during gym class, running off my anger and letting it steam off my shoulders. When the coach told us we could stop, I took greedy gulps of air and trudged to a nearby bench to rest. As I plopped down, I noticed Syd and Dina walking together to the opposite side of the field. It was good to know they were to finally talk everything out. Now for her and Stan to make up…

I was thankful for a split second for the shadow that casted over the burning sun raining down on me, but huffed upon seeing who it was. Some guy from my math class stood before me. He was shirtless, displaying his six-pack and chest glistening with sweat. He beamed down at me with a suave smirk. “Hey, Zip.”

“Hey.”

“So… I know you and Ricky are… you know. So, since the dance is tonight-”

“Sorry, I already have a date.”

“Right,” He nodded slowly, beginning to back away. “I should’ve known. No worries.”

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

“And he just walked away?!” Stan laughed on our drive home from school. My hold on his hand tightened as I tried to hold in my own laugh.

“No, he ran away!” I snorted, triggering the increase of his laughter.

“What is that, the fourth guy today?”

“Don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes as he pulled up to my house. Unbuckling myself, I froze at Stan’s intentuous stare. He reached over and grabbed my hand again, raising it to his lips.

“I expect you to dazzle everyone like you usually do.” He kissed my knuckles.

My breath hitched. “Of course. And I expect you to do better than me, like you usually do. What time should I be ready?”

“I’m picking you up at eight. On the dot.”

“On the dot, got it.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He returned it and tilted his head to try and deepen it, but I pulled away with a giggle. Stan watched in awe as I got out of the car, snatching up my backpack as I did. Waving him off, I turned and headed inside my house.

I had to look perfect. Not just for Stan, but for me. This was a new era of myself, I had shedded my skin and materialized as something beautiful. I had to showcase just how beautiful I’ve become. So, after my shower, I struck up a playlist and dolled myself up. Starting off with my hair, I simply pinned it up with white butterfly hair clips. My makeup was nothing special, other than the baby pink eyeshadow and the small application of glitter over it. To seal up the look, I added cherry lip gloss to give my lips a bit of a pop. I hoped Stan would appreciate it. My face burned at the thought of him tasting the cherry on my mouth. Backing away from my mirror before I exploded, I entered my closet. My dress was something I never thought I would ever wear. It matched my makeup in baby pink. An off-the-shoulder look that hugged my torso and flared out to the floor. I managed to zip it up myself before slipping on a pair of white heels. Turning to my reflection, I let out a breath.

I had never looked any more beautiful, I think. I remember gazing at my parents’ wedding photo as a child and wishing to look as beautiful as my mother one day. I wondered if she was looking down at me, proud of who I had become at that point. Gazing fondly down at the ring on my pinky, I blinked back the stinging of my tears.

Yeah, she’s proud.

An eager three knocks sounded at my door and I hurried to open it. Pam immediately teared up the moment her eyes settled on me, camera ready in her hand. “Oh, my baby… You look so gorgeous! Just like your mom!” She gushed. I could only chuckle as she took multiple pictures of me. Hearing a taunting laugh, I looked down the hall to see Jacob leaning against the wall, silently mocking his mother’s excitement. I kindly showed my middle finger to him, much to Pam’s disappointment. “Oh, come on. Now it’s in the picture! Jake, leave your sister alone!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He feigned innocence and batted his eyelashes at me. I playfully sneered at him before David’s voice sounded from downstairs.

“(Y/N), Stan is here!”

Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. Eight o’clock. On the dot. That punctual bastard. Clutching my phone in my hand, I nervously made my way to the top of the stairs. Everyone was waiting for me at the bottom, including Stan. God, he looked so cute. He was wearing his baby blue suit, some sort of black and tan shirt beneath that oddly went well with the suit. Leave it to Stan to defy the laws of fashion. I could tell he paid extra care to his hair, the way it was styled perfectly for his curls to sit off to the left side of his forehead. I was sure I was grinning like a maniac as I descended the stairs, but Stan’s expression was the reason I was grinning. He looked absolutely astonished and at a loss for words. His jaw was dropped and eyes were bulging as he watched me walk closer to him. When I quietly greeted him, he couldn’t even respond. Great job, (Y/N), you broke him.

“How’d I do?” I whispered and hooked arms with him. At my touch, he snapped out of his haze and beamed at me.

“You certainly did not disappoint, lovely.”

“Awe, and you aren’t looking too bad yourself, beautiful.”

Pam squealed from the sidelines before rushing over to us. “Stanley, doesn’t she look stunning?”

“Absolutely, Aunt Pam.” He grinned at the older woman as she began taking photo after photo of us. We decided to indulge her and pose for each one. All the while, I felt a red hot glare from the side. Glancing its way, I noticed Jacob fuming at the sight of Stan and I hugged up on each other. His Big Brother Mode was going to activate the second Pam was done with us. To my horror, she finished sooner than I thought. As she excitedly showed our photos to David, I watched as Jacob slowly approached us. Just as he opened his mouth to spit some sort of threat towards the poor, unsuspecting Stan, I turned to the front door and flung it open.

“Well, we really have to go! We’re already late, you know.” I chuckled and gently shoved Stan out of the house.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Pam called out after us. “You two be careful out there! And have fun!”

“And (Y/N)-” Jacob began to add in a warning, but I waved him off, mouthing an ‘I know’ as Stan scrambled to hold the car door open for me. I quietly thanked him and climbed inside. The car ride to the dance was very pleasant. The hum of soft rock music fit the mood of our night as we quietly sang along. Stan found a parking spot rather quickly and leaned back in his seat after turning the car off. Bringing the visor down, I checked myself in the mirror, gently running my fingers over my white gold hoop earrings gifted to me by my dad for my previous birthday. They were pretty expensive and I hardly wore them, so why not? Hearing a click, I turned to see Stan lighting up a joint. After he took a hit, he looked my way and smiled, offering it to me. Without any hesitation, I joined him in a quick session. As I took my third hit, I felt his eyes on me.

“What?” I raised a brow and exhaled the smoke. His eyes shown in adoration.

“What a sight you are…”

“A sight? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re sitting in my old-school car, looking like a goddess and smoking a joint. You’re so beautiful… Just perfection.”

“Jeez, maybe I should get dolled up to smoke more often.” I joked and handed it back to him. We shared a chuckle before Stan put the smoke out. He gave me a wink before getting out of the car and rounding it to let me out.

Our highs kicked in the moment we stepped into the gymnasium. Our clammy hands found each other as we walked further in. I let him lead me through the sea of dancing bodies and bouncing balloons, the two of us hitting them out of our way as we ended up near the bleachers. When we stopped, we overlooked the scene before us as I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Best theater in town, Stan.”

“Best theater in town, (Y/N),” He looked down at me with furrowed brows. “So, why aren’t you on stage?”

“I don’t perform without my co-star.”

“Well, in that case.” He took hold of both my hands and swung us around. At that, we let loose, broadcasting our best secret dance contest moves to anyone willing to watch. I thought it was perfect. The two outcasts, both outcasts for difference reasons, wildly dancing together away from everyone else. And yet, they were the life of the party. It was meant to be. My feet stung from the stomping and jumping I was doing in my heels, but I couldn’t care less.

“I fucking hate this song!” I joyfully shouted, eliciting a laugh from my date.

“Me, too!” From the sound of our laughter, it was clear the two of us were high. Three songs later, in the middle of my rounds of spinning, I felt Stan’s hands on my waist, attempting to stop me. When I did, my surroundings rotated around me and I leaned into him for support. Looking up, I saw Sydney awkwardly smiling at the both of us.

“Oh! Hey, Syd! I love your dress.” I smiled and gestured to her attire. Her smile widened.

“Thanks, (Y/N), y-you look great.”

“Awe, thanks.” I gushed and bashfully waved her off. My attention turned to Stan, who had a look of indifference on his face, but a hint of pain in his eyes. Sydney noticed it, too, and looked back at me.

“Uh… Can I borrow Stan for a second?”

“Go ahead.” I motioned. Stan stared at me for a second before following Syd onto the bleachers. I suddenly felt very out of place, so I decided to keep my hands busy and get myself some punch. Thankfully, I found Dina there, pouring herself a cup. When she noticed me, she quickly set it back down on the table and reached her arms out for a hug. “Dina, you look so good!”

“Are you kidding me?!” We engulfed each other in a tight hug before pulling away. “You look fucking amazing! You always have to show out, huh?”

“I try…” I lowered my voice. As the two of us talked, lonely guys would come up to us and ask to dance, but we would hold hands and politely decline. After the third walked away, Dina turned to me.

“Hey, so… In detention… The thing that Jenny said about Ricky. Was that true…?” The hesitancy in her voice made me deeply inhale as I nodded in confirmation. Instantly, her eyes welled up with tears as her hands covered her mouth. “(Y/N)... I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve been there for you.”

“No, no, Dina!” I quickly took her hands into mine, my heart wrenching. “It’s okay! I’m okay…”

“You’re okay? H-How are you okay?” She frowned and blinked back her tears. A warm smile twitched its way onto my face.

“Stan… he’s been making everything better…” I admitted. Dina’s face lit up before she hugged me all over again.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! I’m so happy for you! God, you fucking deserve it, girl!” She exclaimed as I hugged back, quietly laughing at her excitement. Our hug was cut short, when Dina caught sight of our dates heading toward us. I turned to them and happily watched as they approached us, their hands lazily clasped together. Sydney held out Stan’s hand over to mine and I gladly took over. “Stan!” Dina grinned at him as he allowed me to lean against his side.

“Dina, you look, um… you look like a Christmas tree.” He awkwardly complimented as I rolled my eyes. Dina looked down at herself.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded before his eye caught something. “Oh, god. Whitaker’s still watching us.” He sighed. We directed our gaze to our principal, who indeed was standing across the gym, arms folded and a piercing gaze on the four of us.

“It’s probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in his entire life.” Sydney crossed her arms, as well, as we all grinned. Stan leaned forward and placed his other hand over ours as he hummed.

“I don’t know, guys. I mean, we’re wanted criminals. Why are we out here in the open? Exposed. First rule of the heist is split the loot and split the fuck up, right?”

“We don’t have any loot, Stan.” I raised a brow in false confusion as Dina smirked at me.

“Yeah, all we did was disrespect this fine institution.”

“And disrespect ourselves.” Sydney finished, Stan humming again before we all shared a soft laugh. Stan’s smile disappeared as a slow song came on. I barely recognized it, but he sure seemed to know it. His free hand reached up to cover his eyes.

“Oh, no. On principle, I just- I can’t,” He groaned and began to free himself from my grasp. “Sorry, this playlist is all over the map. I’ll- I’ll be back.” He squeezed between Syd and I to leave, but I followed right behind. He was nearly at the DJ table, when I managed to stop his striding.

“Stan! Stan, wait!” I laughed and turned him to me. “Come on, I wanna dance to this.”

“(Y/N), I have to enlighten that poor DJ over there.”

“After this song?” I pouted and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t care about the music. I’ll dance to anything with you.”

“That is a lie, but fine,” He sighed before his hands rested on my waist. Our dance started off with timid shuffling, Stan clearly not used to slow dancing. I chuckled and directed his eyes away from his shoes.

“Stan, it’s just swaying, I promise.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look before moving with me to the music. Of course, since it’s Stan, he had to add in a few spins that had us stumbling. We laughed aloud when we almost toppled over, and we earned a few weird stares, but we didn’t give a shit. Just as it seemed we were getting the hang of it, a voice that rang throughout the gym interrupted the song and dance.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr File announced from the stage. “If I may have your attention. Stop talking. Look up here please.”

“Thank god, they stopped the song.” Stan whispered in my ear as we turned to the stage. I playfully and gently hit his chest as our teacher continued.

“It is my privilege to introduce your homecoming king and queen, Jeff Butters and Julie Frasheski!”

As the homecoming royalty hopped on stage, we all clapped and cheered for them, Stan and I exchanging looks that said ‘I have no idea who these people are’. “What up, Westinghouse!” Jeff exclaimed into the microphone, his queen by his side, the both of them wearing sashes and crowns. “Yeah! Where my boys at? Whoo! Where do I begin? I wanna thank my mom for meeting my dad-”

His amusing speech was cut off by Bradley Lewis running onstage and clamping his hand over the mic. “Listen up!” He yelled as the feedback screeched. Our smiles dropped as he swayed, clearly drunk. As Mr File tried to take the mic from him, he thrashed about and moved away. “Give me a second! I would like to take this moment to talk about something very important that affects everyone here.”

“What the fuck…?” I muttered and watched as he turned to the middle of the crowd.

“Sydney Novak!” His exclamation sent a flinch through Stan and I, and I felt him tense under my hold on his arm. “Hey, Sydney! Raise your hand! Raise your hand! Give a wave so everybody can see you!” When she didn’t comply, he moved on, proceeding to pull out Sydney’s supposed diary and flipping through it, exposing all of her secrets to the whole school. He told about how at Ricky’s party, she had kissed Dina upstairs. As he spoke, he hopped off the stage and pushed past people to stalk closer to his victim, the path to her and Dina made clear. I could see the panic in Sydney’s eyes. My blood boiled at the derogatory term he used for her sexuality, but Stan was just about ready to pop. His jaw was severely clenched and his face was flushed red in anger. I felt him move forward, but kept an arm in front of him. But there was no holding him back after the next thing Brad exposed. “And my god, don’t even get me started on the daddy issues on this one. I mean, it’s fucking worse than Zip’s! And we all know about that!” That comment punched me straight in the gut and Stan ripped his arm from my hold, pushing his way through the crowd. “Everyone in Sydney’s life thinks that she’s a piece of shit. And I mean everyone!” His cackling was interrupted when Stan broke through everyone.

“Hey, man! Leave her alone!” He went to stand in front of his friend, but Brad immediately swung, his fist connecting with Stan’s face and sending him to the ground, unconscious. My breathing stuttered before I wordlessly shoved everyone out of the way, trying to get to his limp form. There were a few people separating us that wouldn’t budge. I growled as Brad continued, shaking his fist from the blow.

“But that is not even the weirdest thing about Sydney… Novak,” He took a few steps forward, and I watched as Sydney wiped a tear from her eye. This whole situation was fucked. “Get this. Sydney claims that she has-”

To this day, I have no fucking clue how it happened, but Brad’s words were cut short when his blood and brains exploded onto everyone near him. Including me. I heard nothing but white noise the second the blood platter smacked into my hair, onto my face, my dress, my shoes. Brad’s headless body fell limp to the ground, the remaining of his brains spilling out from where his head should have been. His head should’ve been there… His head should be there! I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. My eyes were glued to the bloodied corpse on the ground. I was sure everyone was screaming and running around, but I couldn’t do the same. I saw shaking Dina’s form, trembling as she moved, but my focus snapped right back to the fucking corpse. I should’ve moved. I should’ve screamed. I should’ve ran. I should have been crying and gagging and panicking, but I just… I couldn’t. I don’t know what the fuck.

“(Y/N)!” I felt a hand pulling me by the arm, but I was in such a state of shock that I blindly let whoever drag me out of the school- no, the crime scene. I felt the cool air nip at my exposed skin, but I still couldn’t have been bothered to react to anything. It wasn’t until I felt a piece of bloody meat slip down my face and disappear into my dress that I could breathe again. I let out a blood-curdling scream as I felt it run down my skin.

“It’s in my dress! It’s touching me!” I cried. The mess of curls in front of me whipped around to face me. Through my teary-eyed vision, I could make out that it was Stan. He was awake, he was fine. But I wasn’t.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!”

“It’s in my fucking dress!” I gagged as I felt it run down my stomach. “Stan, a piece of his fucking brain-”

He firmly grabbed me by the shoulders and rushed me to his car. I hyperventilated as he placed me in the passenger seat. Before closing the door, he reached into my dress from the bottom and slid his hand from my knees, past my thighs and planted his palm on my stomach. He gagged when his hand touched the meat, grabbing hold of it and ripping his hand from my dress, throwing the flesh to the ground. Stumbling a bit, he shut my door and rounded the car to drive. I had to ride with my window down, letting the wind blow against my face to prevent the contents in my stomach from resurfacing into Stan’s car. He drove all around town, calling out for Sydney. He would glance over at me every once and awhile when I would gag or groan, but that was it.

What a sight I was.

Do I look beautiful now, Stan?

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

When Stan decided to give up on the search for Sydney, he sped us to his house. The sirens of police cars and ambulances echoed within my empty mind. But the moment I left the car, I hurled my guts up into Stan’s yard. He caught me before I could fall and rubbed my back until I emptied my stomach. Then when I was done, I did the same for him.

I had no concept of time, I can’t remember how long we were throwing up in his front lawn, but when we were done, he guided me inside the house and down to his room. The second he let go of me to retrieve new clothes, my entire body trembled and shook uncontrollably. “S-Stan… S-S-Stan.” I whimpered out. He returned to me with clothes tucked under one of his arms. He held me by the elbow and guided me to his bathroom, sitting me down on the toilet lid before starting up the shower for me.

“Nugget? Hey, do you want me to-”

“N-No.” I don’t know why I said that. I needed him in that room with me. He was patient enough to look away as I undressed, nearly falling a few times, and stepped into the shower. He left the door slightly ajar, so I was sure he could hear my sobbing as I sat down, letting the water rinse me of Bradley Lewis’s blood and guts.

I returned to Stan in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He stood from his bed and carefully watched the way I moved. The way I slowly blinked and walked two steps at a time toward him. Silently, he lifted his covers for me to lay down. I stared at him emptily for a few beats before complying, my back facing him. I felt his lips on my neck and gladly welcomed the kiss before he whispered into my ear, “I’m gonna shower now, okay? I won’t be long.”

“Go ahead.” I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. As Stan showered, my shaking hands reached up and freed my locks from my hair clips. I tried to keep my crying near-silent as I did so, but I wasn’t too sure how loud I was being. Within time, he had returned and laid down beside me in bed. And from the warmth I felt when his back touched mine, I could tell he was shirtless. It was painfully silent as we both unevenly breathed. I bit my fingers to keep myself from crying again. Everything about me felt unbalanced. I wanted to be beaten even. It’s what I deserved for not taking care of myself.

“Hey.” Stan’s whisper broke my train of thought.

“H-Hey…”

“You asleep?”

“No… You?”

“No.” He muttered as I felt the bed dip when he turned around to spoon me. His leg draped over mine as his arms pulled me closer. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as he deeply inhaled. I closed my eyes and willed myself to ask the question brewing in my mind,

“Do you have any idea what the fuck happened? B-Brad just… h-he fucking…”

“I know,” He murmured against my skin, his hold tightening as well as his throat. I could tell by the way he choked on his breath. “I… I’ll explain it another day. N-Not tonight.”

As we fell asleep an hour later, I knew he’d never explain it.

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @magicalgothpandamaker

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 30- Lily of the valley

There are very few things Billy actually remembers about his mother.

That can be pretty hard for him to swallow at times, the fact that he lost so much of his childhood to trauma, his mind blocking out even the good memories because of his father.

He still remembers the way she smelled when she held him, but he didn’t know the name of the scent she wore, and he remembers the sound of her voice, though he had long ago come to terms with the fact that he’d never hear it again, but the one thing he remembers so clearly about his mother is the lily of the valley tattoo on her forearm.

Neil had hated it from the day she got it, always making her cover it up with bracelets and long sleeves and makeup, but as a kid, Billy was fascinated by it. He would trace over it with his little fingers, the tiny flowers tattooed dark on his mother’s arm, connecting the dots between moles and freckles and petals.

One thing he doesn’t quite remember though, is the way she had cried when he asked if this mark hurt when he touched it like the ones his daddy left on her.

Neil seem to remember it just as well, deliberately mowing over valley lilies when they sprouted or spraying them with weed killer, so one day Billy decides, fuck it, he’s tired of seeing the one thing that truly reminds him of his mother get destroyed.

On his eighteenth birthday, Billy gets the same tattoo.

His is on his shoulder instead, in his head he thought it would look a little tougher there, at least as tough as a flower tattoo his hippie mom used to sport could. Of course, Neil is just as angry with him as he was the first time when his girlfriend came home with the same thing, probably even more so now that it was his son.

The bandage is only off for like, a week before Neil’s punishment comes, which, Billy guesses he should be at least a little grateful that he waited for all the bleeding and peeling to be over before he kicked his ass.

His dad’s not the only one that has a problem with it though, the first time Billy shows up at work without it covered, Billy gets lots of comments and sneers behind his back, all sorts of people who don’t know him saying they thought he was soft, feminine, a huge fucking pansy.

He didn’t think he should have to justify it to them, he lost his mother, he’s damn well allowed to get something on his body to commemorate her if he pleases, but it’s hard not to get a little defensive about it. He almost regrets it, not thinking it through more before he got these delicate flowers emblazoned on his skin, but that’s very much an almost.

Because one night he stands in front of his mirror and traces over the stems, the delicate petals, connecting them to the light freckles around it, blood that soap wouldn't quite reach still dried under his fingernails from the number Neil did on him earlier, and he cries like a damn baby, but he lets go of all that other stuff.

He got it for her , for his momma wherever she was still waiting for him, maybe still looking for him even, not for all of those assholes, and not to prove anything about himself.

So he wears it with pride, he tears the damn sleeves off of his shirts and wears jeans instead of a jacket if it’s a cooler day, and the comments stop coming, because it’s not as fun to say shit that doesn’t get a reaction anymore.

But the rumors don’t stop, and everyone knows as they spread, they change, and suddenly instead of Billy Hargrove being a pussy bitch, the mills churning out nastier shit, like Billy Hargrove’s a faggot, and it’s not safe to have him at the public pool.

There’s a long battle between him and Heather and the managers, and the pool begrudgingly lets him stay, but it’s not without lots of rules. He’d almost rather quit, with how short a leash he’s kept on, but he needs that job if he doesn’t want kicked out.

That’s what he’s complaining about to Steve one day over a smoke, sitting in the back room of the Harrington’s with the sliding door cracked so the smoke could drift out, not that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would be home anytime soon to notice it.

Steve’s the first person other than Neil to know it was for his momma, and the look he gives him, the sadness and concern in those big brown eyes, it’s enough to make him want to laser that damned tattoo off himself.

He’ll blame the weed for what he does next, lacing his fingers through Steve’s before he can start the pity party, but he hopes Steve doesn’t do the same when he makes the choice to lean over and kiss Billy, delicate fingers barely gracing the dark ink on his shoulder, the others getting lost in tangles of blond hair.

It helps him feel not so bad about the whole thing, getting that burden off his chest, and the kiss with Steve didn’t hurt either, but the next day it’s back to the same old thing at work.

After another week or so though, he notices the gossip has changed, and this time they’re saying Steve’s name instead of his. Steve Harrington’s the pansy faggot now, and Billy has to pretend until he can get out of that chair that he isn’t terrified for the both of them.

He goes straight to Steve’s house after work, tells him as soon as he finds him, “I swear I didn’t tell anybody , I don’t know how it got out.”

And Steve doesn’t look panicked at all, but rather he gives this little smug smile at Billy and says, “I do.” calmly enough that Billy can actually feel his heart shatter, even worse than it had when he woke to find his mother’s car missing.

Steve doesn’t let Billy stew in that heartbreak too long though before he clarifies, “I didn’t want you to have to deal with all that bullshit alone, so I got this.” He holds his wrist out, and shows Billy that he has his own tattoo now too; a sunflower in the same style as Billy’s, thick black outlines with no color.

“I figure, once the initial drama blows over, now that there’s two of us, they won’t be able to say as much.” Steve explains further, looking hopefully at Billy’s face

“Maybe. But until then, you could be in danger, and you’re going to be in even bigger trouble. Seriously, what’s John gonna say?” Billy scolds, panicking on Steve’s behalf whether or not it was necessary.

“And what did Neil say?” Steve argues back, but he knows that’s not productive, so he switches to trying to be comforting instead, “Look Billy, I wanted to do this. For you and for me.”

“It was stupid of you.” Billy says under his breath, taking up Steve’s pale wrist in both of his hands, gently brushing his thumb over the just healed barely healed tattoo, “Sunflowers were your aunts favorites too, weren’t they?”

“Mhm, and I don’t regret it, Billy. I love you too much.” Steve says, the first time he had ever said those three words.

Billy smiles and bends down, bringing his lips to that little monochrome image, and mumbles against soft skin, “Love you too, sunflower.”

[memes-saved-me]

TW for abuse and homophobia below the cut

The sound of the front door slamming shut ran through Billy like a shot of adrenaline, his body telling him to get out of there. Fight or flight kicking in as the loud footsteps approached his room and his door swung open, hitting the wall and sending a tapped up poster sliding down to the floor to reveal a half drunk but very pissed Neil. His entire demeanor becoming even angrier once he set eyes on his son. He stormed towards him, grabbing him by the collar with such force he stumbled back into the shelves.

Billy had only ever seen his eyes like that once, the time he thought he might actually kill him. That’s when he knew what had caused this, why he was being held against the hard wooden planks with his father’s hands keeping him there.

“Who is this Steve Harrington? Huh?” He asked and Billy froze. Froze at the fact he knew his name, he wasn’t just some boy anymore. No, he was a person to Neil. A person he could hurt and ruin. “I thought we…talked about this.”

“He’s a guy at my school-.”

“Don’t lie to me! You know what happens when you lie,” That was when Susan appeared in the doorway to watch as she always did. To try and do something only to fall under his anger herself. “You’ve been seen…touching this boy all over town.”

For a moment he bargained with if he should argue, mainly to protect Steve from being outed or targeted. Except, he had done this before. Tried to cover the fact he was seen under the peer back in San Diego, hand down a surfers shorts and his lips running along his neck. Said it wasn’t him, that whoever told him must have mistaken him for someone else. That was until he realised it was Max who saw them, Max who let it slip not knowing any better.

So, he stood there silently as his secret began to pour out from his eyes alone. “So, it’s true. You don’t learn do you boy?”

“No, sir,” Billy subdued.

“Not even after teaching you a lesson last time?” He sighed and looked away, shaking his head only to tighten his grip and push Billy harder against the shelves. “No running off to that other faggot’s house. You will not climb out of that God damn window after this. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Billy was too tired of fighting back only to lose everytime. His mind freezing his body the second he felt even the slightest pain, a shock response that resulted in nothing more than a scared boy curled in a ball until he knew it was safe to move. To crawl into bed and cry himself into the morning.

He watched as his father smiled, nodded his head and then…sent his fist into his stomach. Which would have sent him to his knees but he was still being held up by much stronger hands. “I said I won’t!” Billy couldn’t help it.

“I don’t believe a thing that comes out of that nancy mouth of yours”, Another hit and then another. It was then that he felt his body fall, his knees hit the ground and his arms finally wrap around his waist as the pain set in.

Except, he wasn’t given a chance to feel it because then a boot was swinging straight towards his chest, sending him backwards against the bookcase again. His head smacking against one of the shelves, causing the room to blur momentarily as he instinctively tried to block the next kick with his hands. Only to feel it hit his thigh.

It all blurred together after that, just as it always did but this time it never seemed to stop. His body was aching, bruising and most definitely fractured but his face was left untouched. No evidence to be seen, no questions to be asked but his body told another story.

When the nausea kicked in he heard his bedroom door slam and the lights go out. Not that he could move, even stand to get into bed or take off his jacket. His chest hurt to breathe, ached as the sobs began and the tears rolled over his nose and onto the floor. There was still light coming from outside as he lay there curled in on himself until the pain took over and he blacked out.

The morning sun woke him, his eyes rejecting the light as his body rejected movement. Yet, he knew he needed to get up and drop Max off at school. Even if he would be skipping to nap in his car. He knew he needed to tell Steve that people might know, that they might be in more trouble than they had ever imagined.

His door creeked open and he looked to see Max standing with her backpack on and her skateboard under her arm. “I’ll walk.”

“No. Just give me a second,” Billy groaned and finally sat up, his head spinning. “Go wait in the car.”

She stood there, clearly wanting to protest but she didn’t. The door closed quietly and Billy used an empty box to get to his feet, an action that only intensified the ache of his muscles. Muscles that had spent the night in the same possible on a drafty floor after taking hit after hit for…Billy didn’t know how long he had lay there being beaten and he didn’t want to know.

He looked at his watch, still enough time to get to school and tell Steve before class. Warn him at least. Just enough time if he didn’t get changed or clean himself up, so he grabbed his sunglasses to hide his puffy under eyes from the crying, buttoned up his shirt to hide the bruising and made his way to the front door. Thankfully Neil had already left for work so he wouldn’t tell him to stop with the limp.

Billy struggled to the car and dropped into the drivers seat, forcing his legs to do what they were trained to do and pulled out of the driveway. Making sure to concentrate on the road as he took his time towards the school. Max didn’t speak, didn’t ask because she knew the answer. The bell was ringing when they pulled up, she jumped out with a quiet thanks and ran for the entrance.

The Beamer was there but Steve wasn’t around so he didn’t bother to get out of the car, he instead turned off the engine and sunk down into his seat to finally relax. Let his body release the tension from hours of being on edge, fully aware of his surroundings. Just as he felt his breathing steady someone knocked on his window and startled him right back to where he started.

“Let me in,” Steve said just loud enough for him to hear so he did. Within seconds the brunette was sitting beside him smiling like he made his day better just by existing. “Where were you?”

“He knows,” He blurted out before he could overthink it. But he couldn’t look at Steve, couldn’t face his reaction. “My dad. He knows about us.”

“And what did he do when he found out?” Steve asked, his voice firm and controlled but there was definitely anger beneath it.

“Nothing.”

“Billy, did he…” Steve went quiet.

“Look, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Billy replied to the silence.

“I’m gonna kill that bastard son of a bitch!” He smacked the dashboard and stared straight ahead. His entire body screaming that he might actually do it, that in that moment he was ready to drive straight to wherever he was and stab him until he had no hope of recovery.

And for a moment Billy believed it. The anger in his eyes as they finally met was enough to convince him that much. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Me? I know who he is and what he does to you,” Steve reached out to touch Billy’s forearm and he winced at the pressure. “Let me see.”

“Steve-.”

“Let me see!” He didn’t wait for a reply, instead he reached for his jacket and pulled open his shirt to see the dark blues and purple covering his chest and ribs. “Holy shit…”

Billy didn’t have a reply to that because his reaction was warranted. He knew that more than anyone as he looked down at his own body, damaged and trying its best to heal. “Do you think Joyce will have a look because I think it’s real bad?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve snapped back and looked at Billy with such care and worry for a moment the pain faded, but only for a second. “Get in my car so people will think you’re here.”

He let Steve help him out the Camaro and into his car. Let him take his hand as they headed for the General store where the only adult they could trust would be able to help. Do something because anything would be better than going to Hopper or the hospital and explaining why he could barely breathe without wanting to cry.

Why he thought his own father was going to kill him and that in all honesty he still might, even if it did finally send him to prison. Billy knew he would rather rot in a cell than have his only son seen holding hands with another man, a fact that made his fingers grip to Steve’s for any chance at life. Even if it was slowly dimming with every day. Steve was there to help brighten it again.