#neil eats cigarettes fic

[jostenian]

cyanica on ao3 is like a mother to me

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married. 

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young. 

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio. 

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night. 

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin. 

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children. 

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day. 

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him. 

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!” 

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning. 

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake. 

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know. 

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips. 

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites. 

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked. 

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one. 

[spaceofentropy]

It was supposed to be a quick thing, when I started writing it. Instead, my fic for the Harringrove Corner Pride Event grew and grew until it became the 38k-word story it is now.

My prompt was "Find me in the future" and what I offer you today is a story about time travel, paradoxes, pining, the fear of screwing up, and also monsters, titled

Time travel is real

On ao3

Rated E for blood, not sexy times

Pairing: Harringrove (but the last chapter is all Munver because I am a self-indulgent fool!)

Relevant tags: Time Travel AU; Canon Divergence; Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Blood and Injury; Homophobia; Internalized Homophobia; Protective Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper; Robin Buckley is a good friend; Fix-it fic (if by fix-it you mean I fuck things up even more and the body count is higher); Whump; Pride Parades; references to HIV/AIDS Crisis; Billy Hargrove tries to be a decent brother (results may vary); Karen Wheeler and the married ladies of Hawkins being creeps

Summary: It's the summer of 1981 and one of Billy's friend bets that Billy won't have the guts to go and spend five minutes talking with the naked weirdo that's hiding under the pier.
Billy's 14 and he has no idea of what consequences accepting that bet will have.

It starts like this:

"There's a weirdo under the pier."

From where he's propped against the wooden parapet, Billy stops letting his gaze float over the people walking by them on the pier and turns to look at Stab. The rest of their group does the same, all keeping their eyes politely away from Stab's busted lip and swollen cheek even as they look at him.

"As if the whole beachfront isn't full of weirdos every day," Jimmy Z. says in a dismissive huff.

Pudge and Lily nod, and she's already back to drawing little black toothy monsters on the green fabric of her shoes. There's a hole in the sole of her right shoe. She said her mom's waiting for her next weekly pay check to buy her a new pair. They've been waiting for the right pay check for two month.

Billy looks away and stomps down the jealous resentment over the fact that at least her mom seems to be the kind of parent that will never stop trying. Unlike his, or some of the parents of the others in their group.

"A different kind of weirdo," he hears Stab insist.

Billy does his best not to snicker when Jimmy F. eyes Stab with all the skepticism a five-foot-nothing kid can muster. Which is a lot, if your name is Jimmy Fernandez.

"Define different," Jimmy F. says.

"I think this one ran from an asylum or something like that."

"Like Roaming Maggie," Jimmy F. is quick to supply.

"No, different! This one doesn't have shit."

"So, like the poncho guy."

"No. He's naked."

"So, like Perv Guy last summer," Lily intervenes without even looking up, and Jimmy F. nods.

"No-ooooh!" Stab is getting closer to the end of his patience. "This one is not approaching anyone."

"Ok, so, like the high lady with the tattoos and the−"

"No, he's not talking to the sirens−"

"Kraken," Pudge says while exhaling a plume of smoke. "The lady with the orange bush said her talking to the kraken was what kept it from eating the pier."

Billy pulls a cig from his own pack as he tunes the diatribe out. There's a good chance they're gonna go on for hours. They've done it before. It's the first weekend of summer break and they still have fuck all to do: inane chatter is perfect for them to waste time but not money.

He likes when it's like this. When they can just sit around, or swim, or talk about shit that doesn't really matter. He likes when they can forget life is shit, parents are a mess, school's a drag, and the future is on fire. Nothing better than to let his friends' words wash over him and make the world seem a little less fucked.

He has just finished his cigarette, making sure to smoke every last bit of it, when he registers what Stab's saying:

"I bet Billy wouldn't."

"I wouldn't what?"

"Find the balls to go and talk to the weirdo under the pier."

[stabbyfoxandrew]

I can be ur devil or i can be ur angle

(Guardian Angel plsssssssss) - @jtl-fics

WIP Wednesday (9/27) | Guardian Angel Neil AU

After he stirs the flavor packet in, Andrew shoves Kevin’s long legs into the floor so he can sit down to eat. 

“Hi, Andrew,” Kevin says, barely glancing at him. Andrew grunts in reply and looks over at the TV screen, where Nicky is absolutely obliterating Aaron. He should be laughing at Aaron’s pisspoor gaming and trying to get a reaction out of him by now. But his entire belief system was just ripped out from under him, so Andrew just sits quietly and stirs at his food.

These last couple months he thought he was essentially talking to himself. But Neil is real. Andrew’s got proof and everything! A feather from an angel’s wing, right under his pillow! That’s kind of creepy of him, isn’t it? Definitely. 

Well. Oopsie. It’s Andrew’s very first time encountering the supernatural, Neil will have to excuse him. Speaking of Neil… Andrew’s got to get back up there. He’s got to… Well, he’s not sure what to do now. He’s got a couple ideas. But kissing an angel silly might just be against the rules.

Then again, it might not be. So Andrew scarfs down his noodles without tasting them at all, then rushes back up to the roof. Predictably, Neil isn’t there. 

“Neil?” Andrew says. Then again. But the angel doesn’t make an appearance. His words from earlier ring in Andrew’s mind, ‘You have other things to do. I want you to take care of yourself. See you tomorrow.’

Andrew chews on his lip then goes back inside without lighting a cigarette. He finishes the assignments he’d let pile up in the last couple weeks then takes a shower and goes to bed at a decent time. And for the first time in what feels like years, he falls asleep quickly.

<- previous | first | next->

[particleseparationroom]

chapter 2 is so close to being finished and i get to do a lot of worldbuilding but it's all subtle and behind the scenes agh agh agh agh

grissom is a large underground military base with a vault attached. that's where people come from btw, they grow up in a nuclear family and start military training at 14. i would've done communal parenting but that's a little too communist, and it's a lot sadder if the culture emphasizes the glory of the nuclear family while both of your parents are too busy serving their country to really care about you. :0)

and anyway, they're just two people who got drafted to raise a kid. did you think they wouldn't do a eugenics? they're playing matchmaker gattaca style. theyre making punnett squares in the 4th dimension. the president said i need to have kids with you. this serves no literally purpose but furthering their ideology, inbreeding isn't even a concern with a population of 5000. if anything it causes problems, because the only time you can have kids is when you get drafted to do it and that generally doesn't make for great parents.

the land on the surface is unusable for farming so they get all their food from underground greenhouses and hydroponics - that's what neil's job is, as head agro guy he oversees food crop production. and later he works on removing nuclear waste from the soil, because their population is growing and in a few years their greenhouses won't be able to keep up. even w/o working on the surface it's a big job because they're all vegan out of necessity.

i really really wanted to let them have meat/dairy for like, cultural reasons. it's hilariously inefficient and it's the exact kind of stupid thing a bunch of ultra-american fascists would go out of their way to do, but it's not even possible. cows/goats and chickens underground? generating methane? drinking so goddamn much water, eating so goddamn much food? there's no way that would yield enough food to feed all 5,000 residents and justify the cost. so basically everything they eat is soy and any time i mention any food i have to quickly check if it's 1.) possible to be made without meat/eggs and 2.) possible to cultivate hydroponically and 3.) able to self-pollinate or be manually pollinated. i've learned so much about sugar beets and latex farming.

they still go out of their way to make pointlessly american/hoosier things. like soda (water is carbonated via fermentation, flavored with sugar derived from beets and various chemical flavors) and pork chops (seitan made from wheat/gluten, breaded and fried in vegetable oil, seasoned with whatever herbs they can grow) and sugar cream pie (so many substitutions it's basically sweet tofu in a pie crust). and cigarettes (tobacco is easy to cultivate but why would you want to smoke underground?).

i don't think anybody as into hard scifi as i am will ever read my fic or even notice these details but it would bug me if i didn't make it accurate

[strangerhands]

thank you for the tag frannnn🫶🫶 (you have no idea how excited i am for that abo mk... im gonna eat it so hard.)

last song: neil's theme by robin guthrie and harold budd from the mysterious skin soundtrack (i put it on loop while i sleep lol)

and before that, cry by cigarettes after sex was also on repeat🧎

currently reading: i have been meaning to reread dust city by robert paul weston all month🧍

last film: prey (2022) (i need that monster in-)

currently craving: sushiiiiii specifically salmon and tuna sashimi

three ships: finnpoe, spiderdads, satosugu. (yes im a masochist)

first ship: ohhh man idek. maybe sophie and howl from howl's moving castle? maybe spirit and rain from spirit: stallion of the cimarron😭😭😭

favourite colour: black and blue

currently working on: ummmmm. nothing😅😅😅😅

but there is. So Much robbie smut sitting in my notes. so one of those will probably be what i work on first once i finally get around to it. either that or this one super angsty moon boys fic ive had sitting around half finished😅

no pressure tags! (sorry if youve been tagged already): @runa-falls @spacecowboyhotch @ladywynne @winniethewife @virtie333

thank you for the tag @reallyrallyauthor and @silver-night-m 💙

last song: Keep Your Friends Close from EPIC: The Ocean Saga

currently reading: A Taste For Poison - Eleven Deadly Substances & The Killers Who Used Them by Neil Bradbury

last film: Ticky Tacky (it's a short but that counts too right?)

currently craving: the sage, vanilla and honey tea blend i used to drink whenever i felt sick but which sadly got discontinued 😔

three ships: Stony (Steve Rogers/Tony Stark), Dr. Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra

first ship: my memory is shit but probably Sailor Moon/Tuxedo Mask? definitely smth anime but i don't remember what i watched when

favorite color: black & gold

currently working on: i am just going to put the wip titles here without context

The Lunar Effect aka ABO!Moon Knight because I can't stop and I am an idiot with not enough energy but way too many plans (also it's hot so sue me)

Corrupted!Mr Knight - MKB Caught - "Red Handed"

Pretty Boy - Steven Grant

Alrighty who to tag 🤔 @my-secret-shame @strangerhands @campingwiththecharmings @eyelessfaces @bluemoonperegrine @oddbunny and anyone else who wants to do this 💙 no pressure of course and if you already got tagged no worries

[isimpfortoomanypeople]

A match to water- Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

What if you saved Billy on the night the mind slayer attack the starcourt mall? But in return you had to swap your life for his, how would he cope in the days following your death?

Warnings: death, grief, alludes to suicide, funerals, abuse, Neil physically hurting Billy. This fic is heavy so please don’t read if you don’t want to cry, only read it if you’re in an okay mindset, please look after yourself

A/N: this fic is inspired by the lyrics from ‘a match to water’ by pierce the veil. If you’ve been following my ‘so this is it?’ series you know that I have maladaptive daydream disorder and this was a story that was created while I was listening to the song. In this story you were able to heal Billy and Max’s relationship. I’m from the U.K. so I’m sorry if some parts sound overly British. I made myself cry while writing this so I’m sorry if you cry reading this. Apologies for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy

I scream out god you vulture Bring her back or take me with her

You screamed out in agonising pain, your clothes felt warm as the blood poured out of the hole in your chest. Your lungs felt heavy as they plummeted you to the dark abyss below.

The corners of your eyes became dark, the outlines of your peripherals starting to fade to black, slowly closing off your point of view.

The monster’s arms lowered you to the ground with a thud, it all felt as if it was in slow motion. As soon as you hit the ground, you felt nothing but a coldness that bit at every nerve in your body, eating them away till you felt a sense of numbness flooding throughout every corner of your body.

You heard a muffled cry from the distance, as death took a hold of your every sense, it was hard to tell if this voice was inches or yards away. The cry sounded horrific, the sound that your mother let out on the announcement of your father’s death

You didn’t even register that you were dying as death felt peaceful, a state of numbness where nothing could hurt you. Euphoric in a sense, it didn’t feel this hollow empty pit of despair and fear that we’re taught to fear till the day of our departure from this earth

You knew you were dying when Billy screamed out “how could you be so stupid! It was supposed to be me, but no you had to play the goddamn hero” he tried to yell but sadness took a hold of his throat making it crack and crumble in despair,

He scooped you close, rocking you back and forth in his arms, not caring that your blood stained the pearly white of his vest. His tears fell on your cheeks as his heart broke into a million of pieces.

Billy once pride himself on being a man who didn’t, in his own words, care about the cows of Hawkins till his eyes caught yours across the room at Tommy’s house party. You were leaning against the wall you and your friend both playing a drinking game to make the party more bearable, instead of beer pong or flip cup you both played a game of “drink whenever Tina says something that makes you want to claw your eyes out”. Safe to say that you were pretty drunk at this point listening as Tina droned on about how she lost another dress size for her playboy bunny costume for Halloween in the following week.

‘Hey, I didn’t know you liked Led Zeppelin” he spoke motioning towards your shirt, he bit his lip and smirked “I thought that you were one of those boring air heads like the whole cheer squad”

You scoffed and sneered at his audacity

“If this is your way at flirting, then you’re going to be single for ever asshole”

You both walked away, your friend giving Billy one of their famous death stares before walking into the kitchen and getting another drink. New drinking game, drink whenever Billy became insufferable.

Billy licked his lips as he watched you walk away, he lift a cigarette to his mouth and took a deep inhale. If he knew you were feisty he would of made a move sooner. Billy liked a challenge and was determined to let him take you out, however long it may take. That’s one thing about him, once he has something in his mind he has to pursue it.

When you next saw Billy he was stood by his camaro, wearing his signature leather jacket with a cigarette clutched between his lips, his eyes narrowing and scanning the whole proximity of the car Park. Growing frustrated he stubbed the cigarette out with his heel, where the hell was this mystery girl?

The corners of his lips curled as he saw your car pull up 5 spots away from his. He watched your every move, his eyes closed in on you. No one else in that moment in time mattered to him, only the stubborn Y/H/C in her red vehicle.

You applied another layer of gloss before stepping out of your car, the autumn air bit coldly at your bare arms. Today definitely wasn’t the day to forget your jacket, you’d never admit it but your mom was right you should of brought a jacket. All you needed to do was walk into school and slowly bask in the heat the building provided, but you were stopped before you could walk any further by probably the biggest asshole in all of Hawkins

“Hello darling” he smirked walking closer to you, his eyes scanned your body, damn you looked good today.

You rolled your eyes mentally preparing yourself to endure this conversation with this jerk.

“What do you want Billy?” You sighed still walking not giving him the satisfaction of looking in his direction.

“Just being friendly princess, is that a crime?”

You let out a sharp exhale, too tired to deal with him.

Suddenly a large gust of bitter fall wind froze your skin causing you to momentarily shiver. you felt something being put over your shoulders, you basked yourself in the warming comfort of the fabric over your bare skin. Then it hit you. This is Billy’s jacket, the once warm fabric felt like a poison burning your flesh, but damn it! It smelt good and for a moment you felt a blush threatening to appear across the apples of your cheeks. Damn you Billy Hargrove!

Your eyes narrowed in confusion at the blonde by your side. Should you be worried that he’s being a decent human being?

“You were cold, you can give it back to me tomorrow. We don’t want you to freeze to death now do we Princess?” He shrugged before running off to the school building, leaving you confused and secretly a little bit smitten but you’d never admit that to yourself.

Pulling the leather jacket further across your body ignoring all the glares you received from the cheer squad who watch the whole encounter unfold, jealous that billy gave you his jacket while they’re still unable to get the guy to look in their direction.

Billy has a hard time showing his emotions, so his way of flirting felt backhanded, it felt like half the time he was being an asshole to you but in reality billy was scared that he was falling for you. Usually he was one for having one night stands or having a fuck buddy arrangement, so unsure what there was about you that made his heart flutter. He claimed to never be the relationship type but now he wanted nothing more than to take you out to a diner for milkshake, all that romantic bullshit he’s seen in Hollywood movies.

Your guard started to slowly chip away around Billy. He started to carry your books to class, offered to drive you back from school. When he wasn’t being this high and mighty arrogant ass, he was actually funny and dare you even say sweet?

“Hey Princess what are you doing Friday?” He smiled leaning against your locker as he handed you back your chemistry book. You raised your eyebrows at him wary of what was to come next.

“Nothing, why?” You question sounding uncertain of what he was asking

“Great I’m taking you out to Benny’s, I’ll pick you up at 8” he gave you a wink and off he went.

“Did he just ask me out on a date?” You asked your friend in disbelief

“Beats me” they replied laughing at Billy’s bizarre behaviour.

That Friday felt like a dream, he surprised you by the way he had the ability to make your cheeks ache from smiling so much, or how he could make you produce these giddy giggles that made you embarrassed as it felt like you were in freshman year again.

When he drove you home you didn’t want the night to end, you wanted to stay this way forever bathing in the oxytocin Billy produced in you. And when he leaned in to kiss you, god you could of melted on the spot.

Fuck! You were falling for Billy Hargrove

And from that point on your relationship grew, he took any opportunity to kiss you at school. He confided in you, he had this sweet side that was only reserved for you.

He snuck into your room one night, he clambered through your window. Your jaw dropped upon seeing him so fragile, tears stained his eyes red, the broken capillaries forming around his eyes stood out. He looked broken, you’ve never seen him like this. Your Billy never cried he resulted to anger and frustration when life became too much, but never did he dare to shed a tear. At this point you believed that he was simply immune to crying.

“Billy what happened?”

He looked at the floor ashamed that you would view him as weak or even worse pity him.

Cupping his chin you tilted his face to look at him. You heart broke to see him like this, you felt so helpless as you couldn’t take his pain away from him.

“Babe, who did this?”

His eyes scanning the room, looking anywhere that wasn’t your face. He felt a sense of shame to admit that it was his own father. The one person that was supposed to love him, but Neil had it out for Billy since the day he was born, ever since he was a kid he felt the sharpness of his father’s fists rather than the comfort of his embrace. When you’ve felt abuse from your own family, you grow accustomed to it and maybe even believe that you deserve it.

“Was it Neil?” He nodded at your words, looking at you finally in the eyes. Tears pricking at your own eyes as you held him close to you. Clutching at his body to bring him even closer to you, you needed him to feel how loved he was. That somehow he could feel how much your heart swelled around him that it could cement the cracks within his own.

You both didn’t speak for the rest of the evening, just holding each other close. He laid with his head resting on your chest as you ran your fingers through his curls.

“I love you” he murmured rubbing small circles on your forearm

“I love you too” you softly smiled kissing the top of his head

“I’m sorry” you croaked as blood poured in your throat making breathing increasingly difficult.

“No, no princess stay with me” he sobbed gently tapping your face as your eyes started to flutter.

“I love you” and with that your whole world faded to black.

Billy let out a blood curdling scream as he felt your body turn cold.

Everyone on the mall floor looked at billy in disbelief, Max’s lips began to tremble as sobs took over her body. Lucas held her close to his chest rocking her back and forth as she wailed into his shoulder.

The mall stood silent, the air felt thick with grief as if all the air was sucked out of everyone’s lungs.

Billy felt a hand on his shoulder, Steve crouched down to his level. The two hated each other’s guts like their hold purpose was to make the other despise their existence. But in this moment they both held the same emotion of loss from your sudden death.

“The ambulances will be here soon, we have to go” Steve whispered as if he raised his voice it would break into the tears he tried to hold back.

“Get the fuck off me Harrington” he barked, his teeth gritted together as he held you even closer to himself, like you were his lifeline keeping him afloat if he dare let go of you he’d drown and would have to finally admit to himself that you were gone.

“Come on, you promise we could get ice cream” you pouted, giving billy your best puppy dog eyes. Batting your eyelashes at his direction.

Billy rolled his eyes at you, “scoops ahoy, the place where Harrington works really?”

“He’s not the monster you’re claiming him to be, please?” Tugging on his arm, trying to direct him into the ice cream parlour

He sighed and pecked his lips on your plump glossed ones. He couldn’t say no to you, especially those puppy dog eyes that could melt his heart in an instant. You truly had him wrapped tightly around your finger.

“Fine, lead the way princess” you smiled at him, lacing your fingers through his as you walked towards the brightly coloured parlour to your left.

“Welcome to scoops ahoy- Y/N hey, how are you…” Steve’s voice trailing away as he looked Billy up and down

“Hargrove”

“Harrington”

You rolled your eyes at this idiotic display of ‘who was the bigger man’, the clash of their egos was nauseating.

“One vanilla and one chocolate” you ordered, tugging on Billy’s arm to stop him from glaring daggers at Steve.

Will your boyfriend and your friend ever get on?

The paramedics had to literally ply Billy’s hands off your body. He walked out of the mall like a zombie, no emotion was registered on his face. His brain blocking off all reality, protecting him momentarily from the intense grief and self hatred that is to follow, that he will have to register that he has lost the love of his life.

——————————————————————————

The days that past Billy stayed in his room, locking himself in his pain and anguish. Refusing to let anyone in both literally and metaphorically. He felt like he was suffocating, he couldn’t breathe as the air felt like it was burning his lungs with every breath. Existing felt excruciating, every movement felt like pure agony. He just laid on his bed staring up at the wall hoping that this would all be over soon.

He clutched your ring tightly in his fists thankful that he was able to slip the metal off your finger before the medics carted your body away

“Get up you idiot”

“ don’t worry princess, I’m not proposing at least not yet anyway. This is a promise that one day I’m going to place a diamond ring on that hand, and we’ll run away to California. Living by the coast just us two, what do you say princess, will you take this promise ring?”

“Yes” you screamed out in happiness, wrapping your arms around his neck. You peppered his face in a million of kisses as pure ecstasy flushed over your body.

He brought your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Carefully sliding on the metal ring on to your finger.

It was a simple silver ring, but you didn’t care he could of gave you a paper ring and you’d still be as happy

“ I love you”

“I love you more princess”

You kissed him deeply, never wanting to break apart

Max was knocking against the frame, growing increasingly frustrated as her knocks fell upon death ears.

She opened the door slightly and a gasp escaped her lips upon seeing the condition her brother was in. He happened to still be in the same clothes of the dreaded night, his white vest top was drenched in your dried blood. The purple bags that clung to his eyes showed Max that he wasn’t living rather surviving each second that ticked by.

“Go away Max” he muttered, his voice was horse and emotionless.

“The invites for Y/N’s funeral came today” she croaked out, her throat still raw from balling her eyes out moments before.

Billy winced at the mention of your funeral, there was a part of him that deep down wants to believe that you’re not truly gone. But Max’s words brought the weight of reality, you’re gone truly gone.

“I know it hurts-“

“Oh so you know what it’s like to have the only person who you love die in your arms?, you know what it’s like to be in fucking agony with every breath? You don’t know shit Max!” he sneered at Max, his voice raising with every word till he was yelling at her.

Yes it’s wrong for him to take out his frustrations on her, but this hurts, this really fucking hurts him.

Max balled her fists at her side and swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill.

“You aren’t the only one who’s hurting! She was like a sister to me” she yelled back in anger before slamming the door behind her.

“So we’re back to yelling at Max?”

“It hurts Y/N, I can’t cope for much longer” his eyes glazed over as he buried his head in his pillow.

“Yes you can baby” you faintly smiled moving to sit next to him, ghosting your fingers over his hair like you use to do when you were still alive.

“Why did you do this?” He whimpered, allowing another hot stream of tears to fall

“I was selfishly thinking, but I knew that I couldn’t live without you. So when I saw that monster about to lunge towards you, I had to push you out of the way” you looked at him with soft eyes, it broke your heart to see him like this. His eyes was red and painful, still in the clothes of your death, looking like the shell of the man you use to love.

He bitterly scoffed, looking back at your eyes

“Well how do you think I feel? You left me! You fucking left me! It was supposed to be me who died, it should of be me. What am I? A fucking asshole who everyone hates? I have nothing to live for princess. And you? You were achieving straight As, everyone loved you, you had so much to live for. We were going to get married and live in California, you promised…” his voice cracking in pain as he broke down

“People don’t hate you Billy, you’re going to live a great life and you’ll find a girl who you’re going to do the things we couldn’t do”

He shook his head between sobs “I won’t ever find someone else, you were my everything princess”

“Please look after Max, Billy she needs you”

He nodded his head, blonde curls sticking to the dampness of his cheeks.

“I love you princess, I always will”

“I love you more Billy, I always will”

—————————————————————————-

He shouldn’t be here, bile crept up his throat threatening to spill the little contents of his stomach. He wanted to run out of his seat and far away from the church he was in. His blue eyes looking anywhere else but the casket that held a photo of you on top. For if he looked at it he would of broken down and billy being Billy couldn’t do that in public, even though that is what he has been doing for a week straight.

He’s finally out of the blood stained clothes and in a black suit. With Max sat by his side, she looked at her brother and reached out to squeeze his hand, they both needed each other more than ever. He didn’t push her hand away like he usually would of, but instead he held it back and blinked away the tears that stung his eyes.

Looking around he saw a see of black. It felt like practically the whole of Hawkins showed up, he gritted his teeth when he saw some of the cheerleaders at the back of the church who were acting tremendously well with their fake cries. When you were alive they hated your guts, death definitely brings out the fakeness of people. And Hawkins being the most superficial place he’s lived in, it never felt short of fake people.

It made Billy feel better to see that near the front of the church sat people who genuinely cared about you. Across from where he was sat was Steve who was rubbing the back of a very distressed Robin who was crying into her hands.

Both Billy and Steve made eye contact and for the first time in both of their lives the impossible happened, they actually gave each other a sympathetic smile.

——————————————————————————-

“We now have Billy Hargrove, Y/N’s boyfriend to say a few words”

The priest moved away from the from the podium allowing Billy to take his place.

Billy couldn’t stop shaking as he walked towards your coffin. He felt hundreds of eyes glaring at him, all looking at him in pity. He was trying his hardest not to fall to his default setting of rage to hide his true emotions. Telling himself that this is for you and not for them.

“When I first saw Y/N it was at this party, she looked so beautiful. I’ve never met anyone like her, she was wearing this Led Zeppelin shirt and I knew straight away that she was the girl for me” he chuckled reminiscing on the good times you use to share. “ I use to carry her books to class just to have an excuse to talk to her, I took her to Benny’s for our first date. I’ve never met someone who love her desserts more than Y/N, so I took her to every diner in Hawkins just for her to discover where the best place for milkshakes is in Hawkins, she says it’s scoops ahoy but I think that she only said that because Robin and Steve gave her a discount.”

He heard a faint laugh from Robin and Steve as they both wiped the tears that started to fall, billy thickly swallowed down his own.

“We spent a lot of our time going on late night drives just listening to music, she would hate me to say it but she had a great voice. She brought out the best in me, I never loved anyone till I met her, I never thought I could love anyone as much as I loved her. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed is something I think I’ll miss the most about her. We used to have this agreement that as soon as we graduated, we would move to California and I’d teach her how to surf. I love and I miss you princess, I always will”

Max threw her arms around Billy’s shoulders when he sat back down next to her. He held her close as she cried into his shoulder, for the first time that day he finally let his tears slide.

A/N: I promise that I’ll write a happy Billy fic to make up for the sadness

[mostlymaudlin]

late wip wednesday bc hehe. loved reading everyone’s stuff today great job team. have more infernal froyo au bc it won’t let me rest

“Like, could I wear this?” Neil asks. He gestures helpfully at his body, as if Andrew isn’t already hyper-aware of its existence. Neil is wearing fitted denim shorts that hit mid-thigh. He’s got an oversized, faded tie-dye T-shirt tucked into it, and an orange bandana holding his hair out of his face. His mid-calf socks are each a different shade of gray, worn with knockoff Adidas slides. Andrew hates everything about this outfit. He sucks on his cigarette, throat burning with the urge to eat Neil alive.

“No,” Andrew says after too long a pause. “Have Kevin help you.”

and another bit, for funsies. i can’t rmr what fic i read where neil had a gap tooth but i internalized that shit soooo fast

Neil smiles, and Andrew’s seen it enough times that it shouldn’t wind him like this. The slow stretch of full lips, the slight gap between Neil’s front teeth, the way the expression creeps up to his eyes. Andrew reaches up with his free hand and presses his thumb against a corner of Neil’s mouth, pulling down to disrupt the witchcraft of it all. It has the opposite effect — Neil’s eyes crinkle up as his grin gets bigger. Andrew huffs, shaking his head.

some tag backs and tags for wip Thursday or Sunday or whatever. sorry to all yall who don’t care abt aftg love u thank u for still involving me even tho im a fandom runaway 🤣

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian @tea-brigade @tea-brigade @angelsfalling16 @prettylightsbigcity @johnwgrey @urban-sith @forabeatofadrum @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @martsonmars @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @snowybank @seducing-a-vampire @sillyunicorn @takitalks @rainbow-0bsidian @stillmadaboutpetra @pacey-bunce-loves-joey @stardustasincocaine @amywaterwings @shemakesmeforget @excalisbury

[smol-midgets]

Professor!Andrew AU

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

So his students know how soft he is, but they are also kind of terrified of the short midget. The constant death threats don't help

"Get used to it, you're majoring in criminology"

One day "If you don't want a knife between your ribs I'd recommend being less of a nuisance"

"Professor, you don't have knives"

Andrew looks pointedly at his armbands

".....Do you have knives in your armbands!?"

"Don't ask stupid questions"

They still don't know if he has knives in his armbands

He's staying back after school often, teaching John, some of the strikers from the team also stay back to improve further

On morning of November 4th, Andrew wakes up to Neil gently calling his name

He opens his eyes to find bright blue eyes staring down at him, hair glowing auburn from the sunlight filtering through the windows, and a gorgeous smile

Neil bends down to whisper a soft happy birthday against his lips, before lightly kissing him. "Go brush, Drew, and come out for breakfast"

He comes out for breakfast and sees Neil standing by the counter, preparing pancakes

"You made pancakes?"

"Don't worry I didn't poison them"

"You're cooking is inedible enough, you don't need the poison"

Neil pouts and Andrew has to kiss it away. One kiss turns to two, then ten, and then Andrews setting Neil on the kitchen counter, they're lips not parting the entire time

Andrew gets late for his class

when he gets there, Kevin is sitting at his desk. Students are staring because Kevin Day is sitting in their classroom in front of them

Cue Andrew's "What the fuck are you doing here"

Kevin is out of Andrew's chair in an instant "You're late for your class. And I wanted to tell you to come to that La Guardia restraunt by 6 today"

Andrew narrows his eyes "Why"

"I wanna have dinner with you"

"Why"

"What do you mean why! Can't I wanna have dinner with my best friend on his birthday??" Did he say best friend??? Professor Minyard is best friends with Kevin Day?? And it's his birthday??????

"You were never a good liar"

"I just wanna have dinner with you!"

"Try again"

Kevin's eyes dart around him, as if looking for help

"Spill day, or leave, but stop wasting my time"

*sighs* "Fine, we have a surprise planned for you"

"I hate surprises"

"We know but you'll love this one! I swear! Will you just come to the damned restaurant Andrew!?"

"No"

Kevin tries a little more, but eventually throws his hands in the air and leaves grumbling to himself (Andrew enjoys saying no to Kevin way too much)

"Is it your birthday today professor?"

"Yes"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't care about it" and that was that

When Andrew gets home Neil asks him if he enjoyed his birthday present. When Andrew only raises his eyebrows Neil says "It's been a long time since you really got to say no to Kevin. I know how much you enjoy it. That was your first birthday present. Well... second since this morning" And then smiles cheekily

Andrew rolls his eyes, but they're fond "So are you going to try to convince me to come now?"

"I definitely want you to. We know you don't like surprises but I really thought you'd enjoy this. If you say no nobody is going to force you"

"What will you give me for it?"

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to"

And how could Andrew say no to his junkie now?

So they go to the restraunt, and all the foxes, plus a few other people from Andrew and Neil's old exy team are there (only the people they got close to). Some of Aaron's colleagues are there too. Everyone wishes Andrew and Aaron happy birthday. It's a good reunion, he gets the chance to catch up

Kevin and Aaron drink a lot and get up to weird shenanigans. Matt starts behaving like a puppy and cooing over Dan and Neil. Allison and Nicky start betting on everything and drag the rest of the foxes into it too

Andrew pretends to be annoyed by how he has to deal with the foxes' antics, but he's secretly happy to be around their weirdness again

A few hours later Neil and Andrew leave the party, and Neil takes Andrew to the roof of an abandoned building, where they share whiskey, cigarettes and kisses

They go home and cuddle and fall asleep

The next day his students have prepared an assortment of his favourite chocolates and ice creams (how he manages to maintain that body is a mystery), and a copy of a book he wanted

Andrew is just staring, and at first they think he doesn't like it but then they notice the reverent way he's holding the book (it's a book he's thought of buying for a long time)

"There's even a few cupcakes for your wife here"

"Husband" Andrew corrects automatically, finally able to unstick his tongue from his mouth, "and he doesn't like anything sweet"

Fortunately for them they quickly gather themselves and respond with smiles "Oh sorry. Well, more for you then"

They know better than to think that Andrew will thank them. But when he starts eating what they got him while teaching, they know he liked it

One day students slowly filter in the class to find a man in a large black hoodie sitting at the back of the class

Of course they are criminology students they're not going to just ignore a shady man in their class they've never seen before

So after bugging and threatening the man a little, he lifts his hoodie to reveal

Neil josten

What?!!???!!??

Several students are mortified because they just threatened Neil fucking Josten

Others are still trying to get over their shock at seeing Neil fucking Josten in real life

Andrew enters the class and looks at Neil "Aren't you supposed to be at practice". As if Neil Josten sitting in their classroom is a perfectly normal thing. Right, the only thing weird in this scenario is that he's missing practice. That's it.

Neil responds "I wanted to see you teach"

Andrew narrows his eyes "Did they kick you out? What did you do"

Now Neil looks sheepish "Ah yeah, I kind of hurt myself and Coach forced me to take the day off, but I do want to see you teach."

Andrew is visibly irritated and is grumbling something to himself quietly

The students' eyes are wide because that's probably the most emotion they've seen on their professor's face

He turns to the class and is clearly unimpressed "I don't want to be here either, but that doesn't give you free pass to stare at my face and do nothing. And you," looks pointedly at Neil, "if you're going to sit there you better keep that mouth shut."

Neil considers making a comment about how they might be staring because he's so pretty, but let's it go. However he definitely smirks at Andrew in a way that clearly says "you know how to shut me up"

Andrew tries very hard not to blush, and turns to the board in case he was unsuccessful (he was)

Everyone forcibly look away from the celebrity sitting in their classroom and try to concentrate on the lesson

Andrew makes sure they pay attention (flying chalks make for surprisingly good projectiles)

He finishes his lesson 5-10 minutes early so his students can talk to Neil like they have been dying to the entire time

In his office, later after class, Andrew looks over Neil's injuries

"It's not that bad, Drew. Really I'm f—"

He's interrupted by Andrew's mouth on his. "Don't" is all Andrew says between kisses. Neil smiles

I am SO sorry this part has come this late. I've had a lot on my plate these days. On the bright side, you will be happy to know I've found the super old post that inspired this fic! You can find it here. Credits to @humongousvoidbear for that. (I'll admit this entire fic could be better, but again, this was completely self-indulgent.)

EDIT: I have made a small edition to this part, because someone wanted a meeting of Neil and the students. This is the best I could come up with, hope you like it!

[ao3feed-iwaoi]

beauty and terror

Read this masterpiece on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ElODBI3

by morgeia

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.

— Kait Rokowski

Words: 7098, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Ash Lynx, Frederick Arthur, Skip, a few OCs I'm not going to bother with

Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Shimizu Kiyoko/Tanaka Saeko, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, the last one is if you squint REALLY hard, especially during the literal porn scene, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou

Additional Tags: Past Sexual Abuse, PAST NON-CONSENSUAL SEX, Sexual Abuse, healing from sexual abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Violinist Kiyoomi, Motorbike Racer Atsumu, Ballet Atsumu, Angst, Because Ales Says So, past trauma, Listen It’s My Fic Of Course There’s Angst, Go In Prepared Or Remain Silent Forever, dead dove do not eat, just a little bit tho, traumatized sakuatsu, Not for the weak-hearted, Angst with a Happy Ending, Atsumu Smokes, Cigarettes, Drugs Mentioned, Alcohol Abuse, Pinktsumu Anyone?, Kiyoomi Thinks He’s Straight, You May Think That’s A Joke But It’s Not, Oisaku Friendship, iwaoi canon, I Repeat IWAOI CANON, And Iwaoi HUSBANDS, Hand Study Readers I Hope You Forgive Me Finally, A Lil Bit Of Banana Fish Cross-Over, And A Lot Of AFTG, all for the game references, Andrew Minyard Is The Light Of My Soul, And Also The Bane Of My Existence, Gay Awakening, as it goes, Banter, Saeko/Kiyoko for Anyone Who’s Interested, Kuroken Canon, Arthur is a complete asshole, but what's new, Andrewification of Miya Atsumu, that one goes out for emilka

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ElODBI3

[shayberri789]

I posted 6 393 times in 2021

45 posts created (1%)

6348 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 141.1 posts.

I added 602 tags in 2021

#mha - 103 posts

#show meep - 90 posts

#deltarune - 88 posts

#aftg - 81 posts

#loz - 56 posts

#tloz - 47 posts

#pjo - 41 posts

#shay posts - 34 posts

#pied piper fic - 31 posts

#deltarune chapter 2 - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i’d do the tag but what i last wrote was character profiles for oc’s lmao i don’t even know what the last bit of creative writing i did was

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Okay but also, what if in the rwrb movie we get shots of Henry’s point of view during events? Please for the love of god I want to see henry Doing some royal bullshit in the palace or eating Jaffa cakes or whatever the fuvk they are at 3am and losing his shit at the weird texts Alex sends him.

OR OR OR. Henry’s reaction to the emails during meetings

And the TURKEYS. From an outside perspective. JUST IMAGINE

Like the directors don’t even NEED To change the plot to make the movie interesting to ppl who’ve read the books 6 times. Just make it the rwrb from Henry’s perspective. It’ll tick all the boxes for a great adaption:

- faithful

- yet new and interesting

- fulfill the undying desire of the entire fandom

- two hours of gay pining and panic

Like I would seriously kill for it sidndkdnd

108 notes • Posted 2021-10-20 02:54:51 GMT

#4

Ok but this shouldn’t be a surprise for anyone (but for some reason I have yet to see someone else say it) BUT.

Andrew’s love language is acts of service.

I don’t think I need to make a case for this; look at how/what he gives ground:

the halloween party

helping neil with his injuries both after christmas and baltimore

the time he spent with neil at the police

how much effort he goes through to keep his promises

his quietly doing things for people he cares for without a word 

80% of what he does for kevin

giving up crackers

I think a similar case could be made for gift giving. I know Nicky says that “Andrew isn’t one for giving gifts” in tfc but like. 

the keys. Come on. 

he gives neil cigarettes without being asked

the clothes he buys neil

bee’s figurines

he gives renee the keys to help jean

I’m blanking but there’s more, feel free to add lol

155 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 01:15:25 GMT

#3

Alright it’s been about 2 months since I read Carry On because Life but anyway from what I’ve seen the fandom is COMPLETELY sleeping on that part in CO when Baz returns to Watford after being kidnapped and he is LITERALLY like “I’m gonna announce myself before anyone else does and I’m going to be a Dramatic Gay™️ about it” and used magic to fucking FLING the cafeteria doors WIDE FUCKING OPEN while dressed all fancy like “I hope Simon notices me” Boy PLEASE

163 notes • Posted 2021-11-02 19:13:54 GMT

#2

If you think about it, the scene at the Hemmick’s house and Nicky’s relationship with his parents is a lot sadder when you consider what the foxes stand for.

In tfc, wymack said (paraphrased Bc j can’t remember it word for word) “it s about given you another chance - second, fourth, sixth, seventh I don’t care so long as it’s one more than you would’ve gotten otherwise”

That’s the foxes’ thing; second chances, they know they’re all fucked up and messing up and triggering each other left and right but they have faith in one another and even if they don’t always forgive they do give new chances. Nicky sees the benefit of it, he does it with his teammates and it rewards him, and they give him.

But he kept giving his family second chances, more than the other foxes would’ve, more than I would’ve (I would have never given them a second chance if they sent me to conversion camp, even if I had to live in the same house as them) because he hoped they’d do better like the foxes did, because surely they’re not as screwed up as the foxes right? But he didn’t fully realize that being fucked up is not the same as being filled with hate, and he didn’t realize they didn’t deserve his chances until they did something that made that fact apparent: they hurt Andrew, the person who Nicky gave second chances to and Andrew made them worth it, while all his parents ever did was hurt him further. And the parallels are just sad, ya know?

171 notes • Posted 2021-09-09 07:29:03 GMT

#1

My favorite thing about the aftg fandom is that we collectively decided Andrew has pierced ears and the twinyards have freckles.

266 notes • Posted 2021-09-22 20:46:30 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[platypanthewriter]

My Yuletide Exchange fic!

Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five Read them as I post here, or all at once in Ao3 under peterqpan! @harringroveholidayexchange <3

“Hey,” Steve whispered, against Billy’s lips, grinning, pinned to his locker with Billy’s fingers clenched in his jacket. "Hey, I, uh. I got the house to myself for a few days. Wanna—”

“They what,” Billy paused, pulling back to frown at him. “They went away for Christmas without you?”

“No,” Steve laughed. “It’s for business, y’know.” He was still smiling, but it didn’t look happy.

“You wanting a sleepover, Harrington?” Billy asked, laughing.

“Wanna unwrap you Christmas morning,” Steve said, and Billy’s blood all rushed to his dick without stopping to let him answer.

“...maybe I can sneak out,” he said hoarsely. He kissed his boyfriend again, breathing in the smell of wet hair care products, exhaust fumes, and melting snow.

Billy’s dad was late again, that night, and he, Max, and Susan chewed long and peacefully at the rubbery meat in her casserole, listening to tinny Christmas carols.

“Neil, uh,” Susan started, then swallowed. “I—I’m—he said to say—”

“Jesus, Mom, talk for yourself,” Max shot over, and Susan bit her lips together, watching her hands.

She sighed. “He has to go out of town,” she told them, and Billy and Max stared at her, Max’s mouth twitching.

“Wait, when?” Max asked, dropping her fork. “How long will he be gone?”

“He’ll be gone for a week,” Susan said softly, her eyes on the casserole bite she was smushing into her plate. “He’s leaving tomorrow—”

“He’ll be gone for Christmas?! Holy hell, best present ever,” she crowed, and Billy drew a breath, trying not to smile like a goon. He choked on his casserole.

The house was already decorated for Christmas—Susan had done it when they were at school—and Billy coughed into a poinsettia-themed napkin.

He slammed his fist into his chest as he rose and grabbed the phone, hauling the cord into the bathroom to dial. “Steve,” he panted into the phone, still coughing. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Hey, I can come. I can come for Christmas.”

“You can?!” Steve sounded startled, but delighted. “You—you want to come over here for Christmas? I don’t—there won’t be anything—I can try to cook a—”

“I’m not coming for dinner, moron,” Billy sighed, feeling his cheeks heat as he grinned. “Not into you for your cooking skills.”

“We should get pies or something. Or ice cream,” Steve said, laughing. “Are—are you sure you wanna—you don’t have to, I mean, I’m used to it, it’s fine, I didn’t expect you to—”

“I’m coming,” Billy told him, imagining Steve watching reruns of Family Feud and staring at the wall all Christmas day. “Shut up, doofus, I’m gonna be there, okay.”

“Gimme the phone, Billy!” Max shouted, kicking the door. “I need to call Lucas!”

He surrendered it as she brushed by him on his way out. Susan was alone at the dinner table, her head in her arms.

On Christmas eve, Steve wouldn’t stop prowling the house, so Billy finally grabbed him around the waist and spun him around. “The hell is your deal. You need walkies?”

Steve laughed, sliding his arms around Billy’s neck. “F’we got some food, we could have like a real Christmas, y’know.”

Billy squinted over Steve ‘TV dinners are food’ Harrington’s shoulder at the wall. “Whaddaya mean ‘food’?”

“...like a ham or something,” Steve mumbled, and Billy considered, swaying them around.

“...you wanna go to the store?” he asked, and Steve pulled away to see his face so fast Billy staggered holding him up. He looked delighted, and Billy sighed internally over his planned lazy day of sex. “I can make a pie or something,” he offered, and Steve hugged him.

Billy was stuffed in Steve’s old ski jacket, taking a smoke break behind the Bradley’s Big Buy while Steve bought the entire grocery store, when he heard a woman’s voice shouting, and some loud thumps. He leaned around the corner of the building into the wind to watch her smacking the pay phone around, and wondered which of her kids was getting the verbal beatdown, but then she stumbled back, wiping her face with both wrists, and turned to bang her fist against the hood of her snow-covered car. The wind tried to take her hat, and she smacked her hand down on her head.

He meandered towards her, checking his watch—Steve had been buying everything for ages, surely everything had already been bought— as she opened her driver’s-side door and climbed in, slumping against the steering wheel. The snow on her roof and window fell a little with the force of her slam, whirling away into the gray evening, but it started building up again almost immediately.

Her car didn’t move. Billy squinted, crouching, to look in her snowy window, and she just sat there, as the sun set on Christmas eve, huddled in her driver’s seat in the snow. Billy wandered over to knock on the driver’s side windshield, the salted road crunching underfoot.

She rolled it down and sniffled, and he squinted at her, fairly sure she was somebody’s mom. “Hello,” she said, wiping her nose with her wrist, but her eyes were suspiciously red and shiny. “I’m fine!” she said brightly, before he could ask.

“A—are you sure?” Billy asked, noticing her shivering, and the buildup of breath on the inside of the windows.

“Merry Christmas!” she said, her voice shaky, and he squeezed against her door as a car passed.

“Uh,” he said, and tried to weigh being nice, which Steve preferred, but which probably meant listening, against his instinct to call her bullshit. “Bullshit,” he said, raising his voice to be heard.

“I-it’s Christmas eve,” she gulped, and started to cry.

“Yeah,” he nodded, taking a last draw on his cigarette, and tossing it behind him into the snowy road. “Doesn’t look too merry, though.” She had to be one of the actual parents of Steve’s kids-by-monster-hunting, he was fairly sure.

“I’m sorry!” she yelled, more at the steering wheel than him, and flailed her arms. “This is—this is crap! Everything is—everything is crap, it’s gone to shit, I don’t—I don’t—”

“Uh-huh,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows. “Who were you tryin’ to call?”

“My kids!” she yelled, smacking the steering wheel again, which put her as probably the littlest one’s mom, he thought, since he didn’t think Henderson had a brother. Or Lucas, he thought, grimacing. You never know, look at me and Susan, maybe he looks nothing like her. She sighed. “And I’m out of dimes.”

“...I might have a dime,” Billy said, jutting his hip in order to dig around in his tightest jeans, the ones he’d worn thinking Steve would peel off him. He found a hole in his pocket, and sighed.

“It’s no use,” she groaned, clicking her lighter about eleven times trying to light a cigarette, until he gave up and grabbed his lighter instead, holding it out. Between the wind and her shivering so hard, he had to chase the end of the cigarette around, and she groaned, starting to snicker. “Oh, jesus. I’m gonna freeze to death on Christmas Eve.”

“I can’t give you one thin dime?” Billy laughed, catching a little of her hysteria, and laughing. He wiped a snowflake off his eyelashes, his cheeks completely numb.

“I have to get home,” she sighed, leaning her head back to blow smoke at the ceiling. “I got...I got dinner to cook…” she groaned, wiping her eyes. “...somehow.”

Billy stood up to frown at the front of the store. Every time the doors opened there was a wind-muffled riff of Jingle Bells or Winter Wonderland, and he looked up to see Steve still hadn’t come out. He sighed. “Maybe you can use the phone in there?”

She sniffled, nodding. “Probably.” She took a long drag and blew out, frowning at him, and rubbing her hands together. “...you one of Jonathan’s friends?” she shouted over the noise of a passing truck.

Hell no, Billy thought, and cleared his throat. “Steve Harrington’s.”

She raised her eyebrows, nodding. “What are you doing out this late? Just out offering women dimes you don’t have?”

Billy snorted, brushing the snow off his shoulders, and rubbing his arms. “That’s my plan, yeah. Nah, Steve’s shopping for tomorrow. I guess we’re burning a turkey.”

She blinked, and leaned closer. “What? ...you two are making a turkey? Here, come around, get in.”

“Uh,” Billy said, shoving his hands in his pockets, but he walked around and climbed in as she unlocked it, so she could roll up the window. “Y-yeah, he wants a turkey,” he said again, in the quiet of the car, watching her shiver. “I mean, Steve’s parents, they’re always out of town—”

“Oh, he’s going to your house?” she asked, smiling over. “That’s nice of your mom.”

Billy swallowed down she’s not my fucking mom, and it’s nothing to do with her, and fuck you, and settled on, “N-no. I’m going to his place.”

“Oh,” she nodded, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, trying to get her blood moving. “Slumber party. Well, kiddo, I wish you more luck than I have ever had, trying to cook turkeys.” She pulled her knees up, hugging them, and sighed. “First turkey ever I burnt the whole outside, had to open all the windows...carve it outside ‘cause of the smoke...but when we stuck the knife in, it was still bleeding. Goddamn...burn victim on the table. Nearly called 911 for the turkey.” Billy was snickering, but he nearly lost it as she sighed out a trail of smoke, and said, “It was so raw inside I nearly tried CPR.”

“Oh no,” he wheezed, leaning against the side of her car. “We can just eat mashed potatoes, I guess.”

“My mom suggested I try adding a little garlic,” she said, curling up tighter. “She meant powdered garlic. Powdered. We kept hitting raw garlic cloves in the mashed potatoes…”

Billy groaned into his arm, leaning against the side of her car, but couldn’t stop sniggering.

“Want me to go in and make a call?” he asked her, and she swallowed hard, her eyes welling up again. Billy froze, lifting his hands for some stupid reason.

“It’s no good,” she moaned into her knees, waving her cigarette around. “What am I gonna do?! Even if Jonathan comes and gets me, I can’t—I can’t cook—”

“...you didn’t get any better?!” Billy asked, startled, imagining decades of bleeding turkey corpses, like a battlefield.

“I did get better,” she snarled, waving the cigarette at him. “I did! It was...it was pretty okay last year, there were good parts! It was edible! But how the hell am I supposed to cook with no power, huh, answer me that, smartass.”

Billy blinked. “...your power’s out?”

“The storm,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “Knocked a tree over, broke the kitchen window—” she sniffled. “And now my car won’t start—” She laughed sharply, looking away, and crossed her arms. “Some mother I am, I can’t even keep the heat on.”

Billy climbed out, checking again for Steve, and he was finally there. “HARRINGTON!” he yelled. “HARRINGTON! Over here!” Steve stopped halfway to his car, frowning around, and Billy slammed the door and ran up as Steve was unloading like 900 bags of groceries into his car. “C’mere,” Billy said, “It’s—that kid’s—mom!”

“What?” Steve asked, squinting, and Billy leaned their heads together to hiss “—the monster house lady.” Steve stared at him. “Joyce Byers? She—there were just monsters, she doesn’t have a monster house—”

“Yeah, that one,” Billy agreed, rolling his eyes and yanking Steve’s arm until he came along to Joyce Byers’ half-buried car.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah,” Billy told her. “You got your jumper cables, Harrington?”

“Always do,” Steve said, raising his eyebrows, before leaning to sweep the snow off her passenger window. “Uh, hey, Mrs. Byers.”

Billy was considering his holidays with Steve as he’d planned them—naked the whole time, and no cooking at all—and sighed, remembering Steve agonizing over the selection of potatoes. He knocked on the roof of her car. “We’ll bring his car ‘round, okay?”

“I’m the grown-up here!” she wailed, then closed her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Yeah,” Billy told her, before walking around to put an arm around Steve. “So,” he said, talking in his normal voice, but it was like a whisper with all the wind.

“Sorry,” Steve told him. “I know you wanna get back, but I can’t just leave her there—”

“Hey, I called you over,” Billy hissed, and Steve grinned at him, his gaze dropping to Billy’s lips as he licked his own. Billy’s whole body warmed, and he wanted to just grab Steve Harrington and haul him behind the building and—he took a slow breath, willing himself to think about something else. “Uh, so. You don’t—you got no idea how to cook all this food.”

“I can figure it out!” Steve protested. “I can read—”

“And her kitchen just got smashed by a tree,” Billy continued. Steve’s mouth dropped open. “She’s got no power, and it’s cold, she said.”

Steve’s eyes were wide and worried, and Billy smashed the lid on the coffin of his sex weekend.

“Isn’t that kid of hers, like, ten? You gonna leave him with no heat on Christmas?”

“No!” Steve breathed. “Uh, that okay, though? I know—I know you wanted…” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows with a grin that was unfair, given the situation, and Billy elbowed him.

“I want you to have your damn turkey,” Billy growled. “Ham. Whatever.”

“I did also buy a turkey,” Steve admitted guiltily, and Billy kicked his ass lightly as it walked away.

When they got back to Joyce, she was starting to turn blue, so Steve bundled her into his passenger seat while they ran his engine. “Come for Christmas,” he said.

“What?!” she squawked.

“Bring...everybody,” Steve sighed, and Billy realized too late he’d doomed them to a whole day with the man Steve’s ex was dating. “Show me how to cook a turkey?”

Joyce opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, then groaned, tipping forward to lean against the glove compartment. “I invited Hopper,” she finally yelled, flailing her arms, and Billy started snickering at Steve’s frown of determination.

“But you don’t have heat,” Steve pointed out. “Invite ‘em over, I got a big-ass turkey. Eleven can hang out with Will.”

“I’m supposed to pick Will up from Dustin’s place,” she sighed into the door of the glove compartment, and Billy bit back a snicker, glancing at Steve—sure enough, when the pay phone rang through to the Hendersons, Dustin was appalled.

“You sayin’ I’m not invited, Steve Harrington?” he hissed. “You know what my mom’s got planned? I’m gonna be on the floor next to the cat, choking down some goddamn Fancy Feast, because you can’t invite your best friend to come to your stupid—”

Steve pressed the phone to his chest, and frowned at Billy, wedged against him in the relative warmth of the phone booth. “Dustin wants to come,” Steve said, as though Billy hadn’t heard him. Or met Dustin Henderson.

“So invite him,” Billy shrugged, rubbing his knuckles along Steve’s ribs, and wishing Joyce Byers wasn’t watching them from the car, blowing on her fingers. Steve licked his lips, watching him back, and Billy hissed, “Steve.”

“Right,” Steve said, jerking back to Earth, and lifted the phone again. “If you’re coming, you gotta bring food.”

“Mom’s not gonna let me make a mess, that’s why I gotta—”

“Bring food,” Billy yelled into the receiver, and hung up. He turned his face so Joyce couldn’t see, kissed his fingers, watching Steve’s face, and saw his adam’s apple jerk as he swallowed. Billy reached up and brushed the kiss over Steve’s jaw, and then elbowed the phone booth door open, stumbling back out.

“Love you,” Steve whispered, and Billy shushed him, bumping their shoulders together.

He’d been with Steve Harrington since the previous morning, and his cheeks hurt from smiling.

When they got back in Steve’s car, Joyce was starting to uncoil, going limp like her strings had been cut as she sprawled in front of Steve’s heat and defrost. Billy climbed in behind Steve, listening to Steve try to convince her to bring her kids over that night, to where there was heat.

Billy had a sudden thought. “Harrington,” he hissed, pushing himself forward to grab the back of Steve’s seat, “—we don’t have a tree.”

“Oh shit,” Steve whispered, his eyes wide, and Joyce started snickering at them. “Go get everybody,” he told Joyce, his jaw set. “We’ll get a tree.”

She just smiled at them, cocking her head, and then took a deep shuddery breath and rubbed her face. “Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll get Jonathan to bring some lights. We got a ton of Christmas lights—”

For some reason, Steve winced at this, but she reached over and squeezed his arm. She held it for a long second, then cleared her throat, and climbed out of the car.

Steve nodded, gripping the steering wheel of the car, and Billy barely waited for Joyce to turn away before he hugged Steve from behind, seat and all. “What’s your problem,” he asked, but Steve laughed softly.

“Just wanna kiss you,” he said, grinning in the rearview mirror.

Joyce’s car behind them sputtered to life, and they climbed out to disconnect the cables.

“Maybe don’t turn off the engine ‘til you make it to our house,” Steve told her, yelling as a car went by, and Billy’s heart thudded in his chest, sending his blood to his face and dick and nowhere else when Steve said our house. He tried to hide his face by turning back to Steve’s car and lighting a cigarette.

“Oh,” she laughed a little jaggedly. “It, um, it’s usually...fine. I just should have started it on my lunch break, you know. In this weather. I was a little…”

“We’re going to go get a tree,” Steve told her, firmly. “You have to bring everyone tonight and help us decorate it. I think I made ornaments in school once,” he muttered. “We could make ornaments?”

“You really don’t have to,” Joyce laughed, shaking her head, poised halfway in the car. “Just get a tiny one!”

“I’m getting a huge tree!” Steve hollered back, his feet spread like he was ready to fight for his ginormous tree, and Billy crunched closer through the half-packed snow on the sidewalk and grabbed him around the waist.

“Let’s go,” he whispered. “We gotta go actually buy it.”

“Bring lots of lights!” Steve was yelling at Joyce, who had her head on her steering wheel. It looked like she was...laughing, Billy hoped.

By the time Billy got the ENTIRE GROCERY STORE Steve had bought into the kitchen, Steve was in the front room with the twelve foot tree, trying to get the door they’d had to take off back onto its hinges. He’d drug out six dusty boxes labeled things like ‘galand’ and ‘ligt stands’ and Billy was wondering whether they were stands or strands when Steve came up behind him, sliding his arms around Billy’s waist, and kissing down his neck.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and Billy leaned into it, letting his head fall to the side.

It was warming again, with the door back in place and closed against the snow, and Billy squirmed around to face Steve, pulling him closer to kiss him open-mouthed before everyone showed up. “What’re you thanking me for,” he whispered.

“Helping me with this shit,” Steve whispered back, kissing him again. “Helping Mrs. Byers.”

Steve’s kisses always went straight to Billy’s dick, and he groaned, stepping a few inches back and clearing his throat. “Damn,” Billy said, hoarsely. “Well. You said it was our house,” he told Steve, smirking. “Gotta back up my man, right.”

“Oh shit, right,” Steve mumbled, and sighed. “Wish it was our house. They don’t need to come back,” he laughed, and it had the wistful note in it that had had Billy just about willing to climb out a window every damn day and just take whatever his dad dished out. “I’d rather have you,” Steve said, grabbing the back of Billy’s neck to yank him in for a quick peck on the lips before he stalked over to stare down at the boxes. “Next Christmas I just want you.”

“...careful what you wish for,” Billy told him, crouching to open a box. It contained cassettes, and Billy smushed the lid closed fast, but not fast enough, and in moments Steve had the house filled with John Denver and the Muppets.

“I’m going home,” Billy muttered into the next box, and then Steve grabbed him and spun him around on the hardwood floor of the front room, and Billy yelled “Fuck! Augh! Fuck you!” but Steve laughed, dancing around him until Billy submitted to ‘dancing’, trying to avoid Steve’s elbows, and not get his stockinged feet stomped by Steve’s bare ones.

“Don’t go home, babe,” Steve told him, laughing, and Billy sighed in his arms.

“...like I would.”

There were ornaments. Glass, mostly, and some cut-out plastic ones of Peppermint Patty and Charlie Brown. There was a glass stork that said ‘Baby’s first Christmas, 1966’, and one with a picture of Steve on Santa’s lap staring at the camera with huge stricken eyes like he was being flashed in a different sense of the word.

“Come on, help me get the tree up, first,” Steve told him, and Billy nodded, pulling one out with a picture of Steve’s mom and dad, maybe. They looked like movie stars in a glamor shot for a magazine, and Steve looked maybe four, staring into the middle distance. “Billy Hargrove,” Steve called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Billeeeeeeeeeee.”

Billy bit his lips as he got to his feet, and threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders, squeezing him hard. “I’m here, I’m here. Too bad we can’t get the wood stove going.”

“Oh,” Steve blinked at it. “That’d be nice, huh. There are probably pellets somewhere. Now,” Steve said, leaning back into Billy’s chest. He steepled his fingers, and Billy registered that he’d dumped three of the other boxes out in a mess of stockings, lights, and a hollow light-up snowman.

“Our tree is too big for the tree stand I found,” Steve said, like that was a normal problem to have, and Billy started snickering again. “No, no, it’ll work,” Steve mumbled, eyeing the tree and the ceiling, “—I’ll hang it from the ceiling. On a wire. And—and we can stick it in a bucket. It’ll last longer,” he announced, “—like cut flowers!”

“When is Christmas, Harrington,” Billy whispered back. “Today is Christmas eve, so how long does the tree need to last? One day, Harrington. One.”

“It’ll work,” Steve hissed back, and Billy waved as his boyfriend went off to war, a soldier searching the garage for weapons in the fight against a twelve-foot tree.

“Be brave,” Billy called, and Steve flipped him off, shutting the garage door on “—our prayers go with you!” While Steve was gone, Billy ran his fingers through his hair, and sat down to check the lights, plugging each strand into the wall. He groaned at the two that didn’t work, and considered testing every bulb...and then tiptoed to the kitchen, and wedged them into the very bottom of the trash.

Steve returned triumphant, drill in hand, and Billy got the hell out from under the ladder, stomping off to the garage himself to find an extension cord for all the lights. When he returned, Steve was trying to balance the tree on top of the bucket, and Billy tossed the extension cord aside and ran to help, so Steve could climb the ladder and wire the damned thing to the ceiling.

It looked ridiculous. “Feel like I’m in a fucking Macy’s,” Billy growled, and Steve beamed at him.

“Yank on it!” he suggested, and Billy kicked the ladder. Steve swore, glowering down.

“I’m not yanking on your monster tree, you think I wanna die like a vampire, stake through my chest,” Billy muttered, and Steve jumped down and hugged him, his sweater warm, his face cold from the air in the garage. Billy groaned into his shoulder. “...we’re boning under this thing, right,” he asked, long-suffering, and Steve blinked, then nodded.

“Yeah, I mean,” he cleared his throat, biting back a smirk. “Of course.”

“Okay,” Billy sighed again, and set his shoulders. “Okay, then.”

“Fucking love you,” Steve said fondly, and Billy glared at him, and then the piles of lights.

“Yeah?! Yeah, you—you fucking better,” he hissed, when the knock came at the door.

Jonathan and Will Byers wandered in with sleeping bags to stare at Billy’s armload of lights, and he could hear Joyce’s horrified voice when she saw the massive ham in the kitchen, next to the turkey they could have shoved Will inside of.

“Steve’s possessed,” Billy broke it to them, and Steve yelled back something about the spirit of Christmas. Billy nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows at the Byers’, and saw them realize they were as doomed as he was.

“Uh,” said Jonathan, clearing his throat. “Lemme help with the lights?”

Here’s part two! 

[sunshinebillyhargrove]

You Belong With Me (a billy hargrove x oc fic)

Note: I’ve been writing so many things and I’m excited to share one of my new fanfics to this blog. This is a small opening to a fic I want to get into this coming month. Billy Deserved Better. Tw for bullying and eating disorder. This is kind of an enemies to lovers fic but like 10 things I hate about you with a lot of Tswift inspiration. I hope you guys like it!

--Alison Gilbert wasn’t popular like the other girls at Hawkins High. Invisible actually. A careless single mother and a stuck up best friend made that much easy. Everything changes when the new King, Billy Hargrove, sets his sights on her. A secret prank tears them apart but it might be what brings them together too. Will love conquer all?--

prologue/one.

“Alison, over here!” A small hand rose across the school cafeteria. The blaring bell trilled loudly. It was lunchtime. Alison wanted the day to end. Her black Converse moved across the floor to her best friend. Many students moved like zoo animals into the big room to start eating. All of them talking about the upcoming prom.

Heather looked cute as a button with a big smile to match and lots of pink make up. Maybe a little fake. She was too popular for Alison. She dressed all in girly prep colors and was rich. Alison lived on Cherry Lane and just wore band teeshirts with ripped jeans. 

“Hey.” Alison sat down and didn’t touch her meal. She didn’t want Heather commenting on how much she ate or the fact that she liked to wear dark colors. The two couldn’t have been any more different.

“There’s a huge party tonight.” Heather gushed excitedly. Alison shrugged. “We’re going. I’ll let you borrow something of mine...that fits.”

“Fine.” Alison picked at her lunch but wasn’t interested in it. Heather slid a flyer over.

“Prom is coming up. I’m going with Steve Harrington. Is that a problem?” Heather sipped a diet coke. “He asked me.” Alison hid the pain because she had a huge crush on Steve once and Heather knew it.

“No, it’s fine.” She got up with her lunch. “I have to go to the library.” Alison got a few steps and tripped, landing with a thud. Students laughed hard at that fall. She was so unpopular and they liked to pick on her. Heather peeked behind her shoulder but pretended she didn’t see anything. She didn’t want to be seen helping her loser friend.

“Tommy, you asshole!” Alison swept her tray up and food splashed everywhere. “You’re such a jerk.” Tommy and Carol laughed with the other people in the popular click. They always bothered her for no reason. She was never mean to them. 

“Watch where you’re going, fatass,” Carol retorted back. “Go cry about it.” Alison sniffled her tears and ran away. She went into the bathroom and made herself throw up after Carol’s words. Already thin but she didn’t know it. She wanted to be pretty like Heather. Alison pretended she carried herself too high to be bothered with comments. She just wanted to fit in.

Back in the cafeteria, Billy Hargrove came into school late and saw his friends still laughing at their table.

“What’s going on?”

“Talking prom.” Tommy winked and another popular boy laughed. “You going?”

“It’s stupid.” Billy flicked his lighter around. 

“We’ll give you forty bucks to make Gilbert go. Your neighbor. Ugly dork.” Tommy smiled with a mean look. “They say the bookworms are wild in the sack.”

“That’s dumb, dickweed.” Billy shook his head.

“A hundred.” The other popular boy sprang up. “Take Gilbert to the prom and show us your Hargrove charm. Show us how cool you are, B. Kiss her before they announce prom king and queen. And then dump her for whoever is queen.”

“Hey, uh, it might be me dummy.” Carol started to file her nails and got all prissy.

“Could be Heather.” Tommy chuckled. “Just ask her, B, and get paid for it. It’ll be so hilarious.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll think about it.” Billy got up and left

-

Alison and Billy were neighbors on Cherry. Their windows even faced each other. Alison liked Max and Susan but hated Neil. He was such a creep. She heard him fighting with Billy a lot. 

Her mom wasn’t home because she was never home anymore. Always going out with guys and not caring about her daughter. She worked at the new mall that just opened in the makeup section of JCpenney. It didn’t matter. Alison liked to be alone mostly. She could just play piano and sing wherever she wanted. Alison always wanted to be on Broadway. She got all the choir solos which made Heather jealous. Her mom was a beauty queen and always mad her daughter didn’t want to be in pageants. Alison was just a theater dork.

Alison went into her house and ate a banana because it was easy on her tummy. The doorbell rang so she groaned and got it.

“Hargrove?” She made a face at him because he was such a jerk like Tomy. He didn’t pick on her as much but he ignored her a lot. “What do you want?”

“Hey, Gilbert. Alison.” He seemed shy all the sudden. Her blonde hair flowed in the wind against pale skin. She was actually really pretty. Especially since she got her braces off. Even with the big reading glasses she wore in class, she was beautiful. Big teeshirts hid her figure. “I was thinking about prom and wondered if you wanted to go with me.”

“Uh no...” Alison shuffled. “But thanks.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. I want to ask you.”

“Ask one of those other popular girls you like. I’m not interested, Billy.” She moved to shut the door and his foot caught it. 

“You mean, sluts? I don’t want other girls. Sorry, Tommy’s such a jerk. He and Carol are just stupid.” He explained and got charming. “I wanted to make it up to you. Go with me.“

“Maybe,” she said shyly. Billy was really cute and he seemed genuine. He bit his lip and looked so good. Things were better after he and Max started to get along. Alison had a crush on him but he was such a jerk to everyone. It felt like he might be tricking her to and she didn’t want to be hurt again. “I’ll think about it. You can still ask someone else though.”

“You know where to find me, Ali. I’m asking you so just deal with it. I only want to go with you.” Billy winked at her which sorta made her melt. “I’ll see you around and all you gotta do is nod that pretty blonde head of yours. Okay?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well, I always thought you were cute.” He touched her chin and her heart stopped. “I’m not interested in any other girls. We should hang out. It’ll be fun. I could show you a really good time.”

“I’ll think about it Hargrove.” She tucked some hair back. “I’ll have to get a dress and everything.”

“You’ll look beautiful in anything you wear so get a dress and we’ll go. I can pick you up at 7 on prom night.” Billy winked. “Just say yes, Ali, live a little.”

“Yes, okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Awesome.” Billy smiled and turned to go. “Don’t be nervous, we’ll have fun.”

“Your friends won’t get mad?”

“Ah, who cares about them.” He walked off and lit up a new cigarette. “See you, princess.”

“Bye, Billy.” Alison sighed against her door and locked it. She had a date with a boy.

Billy felt kinda guilty after he walked off. He could just be nice and get paid. What Alison Gilbert didn't know couldn't hurt her. But, the guilt still ached at him. He realized he might have actually liked this girl. 

-

I hope you liked it! I try not to picture young Tswift as Ali but I can’t help it.

[nekojitachan]

Hi, I love your fic'❤️ and I wanted to know if you could write even a short one about what would happened if Riko didnt find Andrew and Neil in WDWG

Thank you! 💖 Okay, so I did my best to keep this as short as possible, just a glimpse of the boys’ life if Riko had never found them/if they were able to live on undisturbed, just the two of them.

Uhm, I think it’s pretty safe? Just the ongoing burying bodies joke....

*******

Neil had just sold the two tourists from New York a (very ugly) tea set and couple rare blends of tea (Jodi would be pleased) when Massey’s recommendation returned. Neil gave him a stern look to convey ‘not now’ while he waited on a regular, Mrs. Huang, taking the time to let her sniff the lu’an tea they had in stock to ensure that it was up to her high standards before he bagged the requested amount, chatting with her in Mandarin the entire time. It was only after she left (and he was certain that the store was empty) that Neil motioned the anxious man forward while he reached beneath the counter for the wrapped bundle he and Jodi had worked on earlier.

“It’s ready?”

“Yes.” Neil answered in French as he set the bundle on the counter, just out of reach, then slid his phone into view. “New passport, bank account, driver’s license, birth certificate, the works.”

The man, face haggard from stress and freshly bleached hair falling onto his forehead, gazed at the package as if it a holy grail of sorts. “Let me see the passport. Please,” he added, his voice hoarse with need.

Used to being asked such a question, Neil shrugged and unfolded the brown wrapping paper enough to slip free the passport (French) and flipped it open to prove to the man (no names had been exchanged, which he much preferred) that it would pass for authentic (he did excellent work). Some of the tension left the man’s stocky body upon seeing it, as did a quick glance at the other items in the wrapping paper; he pulled out his phone to transfer the agreed upon amount of money to the account number Jodi had given him last night.

Neil checked his phone to ensure the money had been deposited then slid the items across the counter. “Good luck,” he told the man, who snatched up his new life, nodded in acknowledgement, then fled the Jade Leaves tea store.

Neil dealt with a few more tourists (not his favorite thing) and a handful of regulars (which he much preferred, especially when they brought him snacks) by the time Jodi returned. “Bah, it’s raining,” she complained as she pushed back the hood of her jacket; fall in Montreal could be unpredictable, could be an extension of summer or an early taste of winter, and now it looked as if the warm spell was giving way to colder temperatures and rain.

“Be thankful it’s not snow,” he told his boss as he handed over a cup filled with oolong, which he brewed throughout the day for customers and staff (well, him and Jodi) alike.

“Hush, you,” she chided before she took a cautious sip. “Hmm, how was business?”

He held up his phone, and huffed when she gave a pleased smile in return; she’d noticed the money deposited in the account earlier, an account which would soon disappear after she transferred the funds elsewhere (some to Neil). “Steady. I managed to get rid of the awful tea set.”

“The one with the gibberish on it?” Jodi’s pale brown eyes went wide and she laughed with joy as she reached to pat Neil on the shoulder. “Ah, sending you here was the best favor Gabe ever did for me.”

“Hmm.” Neil had to agree; as Aidan’s senior year of high school had drawn to an end, they’d been uncertain as to what to do next. Stick around until Neil graduated? Have Aidan apply to university? Move on to a new set of identities? They’d made a home of sorts in Racine, but Neil worried about his father’s people catching up to them at some point and Aidan was tired of them pretending to be siblings.

It was during a check-in with Durand that the forger had brought up that his cousin in Montreal was looking for help: an assistant who could speak French and if not take part in forging documents, at least keep their mouth shut. Neil and Aidan had debated it for a few days, but in the end they trusted Durand (as much as they did anyone else), Montreal put them farther away from the remnants of Nathan’s gang, and they could start anew.

Instead of half-brothers, they were newlyweds.

(Neil barely managed to not freak out when Aidan told Durand to create a marriage license for them, saving it until they were alone in the car. Only to be stopped mid-rant when Aidan held up a ring and asked him ‘yes or no’.)

Neil kept his first name (he didn’t want to let go of it after keeping it for so long), while Aidan became Andrew once more. Neil and Andrew Keenan, two young fools in love who struck out on their own rather than be apart (or so most people assumed). Neil spent the last couple months before they left Racine learning Mandarin, and was now picking up Arabic as well. He sold tea in a small store in Chinatown, gossiped with the locals, learned from one of the best forgers in North America (Jodi Liu was every bit as good as her cousin), and very rarely had to use the gun hidden beneath the counter.

“I haven’t heard from Gabe or Massey, so we should be good for the night,” Jodi said as she checked her phone for messages. “Go home.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He ran back to the small breakroom in the back to fetch the container of pork dumplings Mrs. Dai had given him (she kept telling him he was too skinny) then was out the door after wishing Jodi ‘good night’. Despite the rain, he stopped at Tony’s food truck to get a couple cartons of noodles to complete dinner, laughing at the older man’s retelling of a small group of Americans trying to order with appalling French.

“I guess it was better than them trying in Mandarin,” Tony said as he handed Neil his takeaway.

“Andrew complains about the French thing all the time.”

“Yeah, I imagine he’d get it a lot, working in a pastry shop.”

Neil waved goodbye and, after making sure the food was safe in his waterproof messenger bag, jogged down the mostly deserted streets to where Andrew worked, right outside of Chinatown. The bakery was empty of customers, probably because of the rain and the time of day, but the mostly empty display cases indicated that they’d done a good business earlier.

Andrew arched an eyebrow at Neil’s arrival and popped the petit four he held in his hand into his mouth. Once it was chewed and swallowed, he stepped toward the doorway leading back into the kitchen area, covered with a cloth divider. “Naseem, some riffraff just blew into the shop. I’m going to take it home.”

“What?” Andrew’s coworker, a young man with a closely trimmed black beard and a white scarf tied over his short, curly black hair, poked his head through the curtains and smiled when he saw Neil. “Why do you put up with him?” he asked, just like he always did, while he brushed at the flour which dusted his face; he probably was working on some of the pastries for the next day.

Neil gave the same answer, as always. “He knows where the bodies are buried.”

“Ha, you kids and your jokes.” Naseem shook his head as he glanced around the empty shop. “Just lock up before you go.”

Andrew gave him a two-fingered salute then quickly set about clearing out the register and turning off the lights (it looked as if he’d already done a lot of the closing duties already), then grabbed a small box before he ushered Neil out the door, which he locked behind them.

He gave Neil a pointed look as he pulled an umbrella big enough for the both of them out of his own bag and opened it. “You trying to catch pneumonia?”

“I’m open to new experiences?” Neil smiled when he was given the ‘you’re an idiot’ look. “I got dinner.”

“I know, I can smell it.”

“Are you going to share dessert with me?”

“No.”

Neil smiled the entire way home, especially when Andrew hooked their pinkies together; they didn’t have far to go since they rented an apartment in a building which Jodi’s family owned. It had a balcony where they could sit together as they smoked cigarettes or drank something hot, a bathtub big enough for them both to soak in together, and a gas fireplace in the living room which Andrew spent half the winter in front of, along with the cats.

Aibee greeted them at the door, certain to make the deplorable state of her empty belly known, while Elbee sauntered in from their bedroom and flopped down at Andrew’s feet after he kicked off his boots. He sighed and bent down to give the orange tabby a gentle pet before he prodded him to stand up, while Aibee was quick to run into the kitchen once she realized that Neil was headed that way, her fluffy black tail straight up in the air.

Andrew caught the strap of Neil’s messenger bag, which brought him to a halt. “Go change into something dry,” he chided as he maneuvered the bag from Neil’s shoulder.

“Okay.” Neil leaned in for a lingering kiss then did as he’d been told, pulling his damp sweatshirt over his head along the way. It and his jeans were draped over the hamper, swapped out for a soft sweater (that was Andrew’s) and sweatpants. Once dressed, he went into the kitchen to find that his husband had divvied up the food onto two plates, which had been placed on the table, and was feeding the cats.

“Shut up and eat, you ingrates,” Andrew said as he set down their bowls, his deep voice mild and expression almost tender.

“I thought I was the ingrate,” Neil commented as he picked up his chopsticks.

“You’re the idiot ingrate,” Andrew clarified as he sat down, and sighed when Neil stuck out his tongue.

They concentrated on eating for a couple minutes before they (well, Neil) started talking about their day; Andrew nodded along as he went on about the tourists and the documents he’d created. As expected, Andrew complained a bit about the tourists who just had to try out their lousy French on him.

“Jodi send you your part of the job yet?”

Neil frowned as he pulled out his phone and checked the special account where the money from the forgeries went. “Yes, another twenty-five thousand.” He gave Andrew a curious look. “Do I need to route it somewhere?” They were careful with the remaining money his mother had stolen from his father, most of it still tied up in investments for another couple years but a nice amount available for use – especially after Neil had started working for Jodi.

Their biggest expense to date was Andrew’s brother Aaron; when he’d learned about his long-lost mother dying from an overdose and how she’d allowed his twin to become an addict, he and Neil had arranged it so that Aaron’s cousin, Nicky, was able to win custody of Aaron and that Tilda’s ‘life insurance’ was more than enough to support the two until Aaron graduated high school. A little bit more money, a few more pulled strings had gotten Aaron into a university in South Carolina, and Neil had thought that was that.

Or so he had thought.

Andrew got up to fetch the pastry box (along with two forks) and set it on the table, the top open to reveal that inside was some horrendous chocolate thing and a small fruit tart. “We both have vacation time leftover, I thought we could go somewhere warm toward the end of the year.”

Neil gazed at his husband for a moment before he narrowed his eyes. “You just want to get away from the snow for a while.”

Andrew shrugged as he set the tart on Neil’s plate. “You won’t have to listen to me complain about the cold for a couple weeks.”

“Hmm.” That had possibilities, Neil thought as he picked a blackberry from the tart and popped it into his mouth. “You didn’t happen to research ‘the top ten ice cream places in Bora Bora’ or something like that, did you?”

He was given a blank look in return.

“We never had a honeymoon,” or a real wedding, for that matter, “so I get some say in this.”

“No Exy,” Andrew declared as he stabbed his fork in the chocolate monstrosity.

No, no Exy, Neil thought with a wince. He’d soured a bit on the sport after the whole Edgar Allan scandal. “No burying bodies.”

“Again with that? It happened twice.”

“And twice is more than enough, considering the second time, someone was all ‘oh look, I’m bleeding sooo much, you have to do all the digging this time,” Neil said in a mocking voice.

For a moment, he thought he’d be the one bleeding (Andrew had only grown more impressive with those flat stares of his), until his husband clicked his tongue. “Fine, we’ll go somewhere with plenty of water so we can sink the bodies.”

“Huh.” Neil considered that as he had a bite of the fruit tart. “That’ll work.” Not that he wanted to have to sink bodies into the ocean, but… well, it was him and Andrew. Things just happened.

There was a very slight curl to Andrew’s full lips, which meant he was smug as hell at the moment. Neil narrowed his eyes, uncertain about what he’d just agreed to, then figured ‘what the hell’. It would work out in the end, it always did with Andrew.

*******

Forgive me for any liberties taken with Montreal.

The cats’ full names are Anklebiter and Lazybones. If you can’t guess, Andrew named them, and Neil shortened them.

I figured this is set a year or two after Andrew would have graduated. He may be taking online university classes (more as something to do), but Neil’s happy with being a forger (and damn good at it).

It’s like... trying to figure out what to write next. I’ve one or two prompts I want to get done, the next chapter of Casts a Shadow, wrap up the soulmate fic, and another part of Not in the Stars. Decisions, decisions....

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

PLEASE write about Andrew & Jean being chaotic and bitter bffs on the same team the power they would have the intimidation level the fashionable goth energy,,, w ow also I want Andrew to learn French so badly which we all know he would if Jean started insulting him in French

IT WON’T BE UP ANY TIME SOON but I’m writing a fic about Andrew visiting Renee’s for winter break in his final year of college in which he’s forced to spend the week sharing a space with Jean. 

Over the course of said week, they form a tentative alliance that’s essentially that We’re Not So Different You And I bit by John Mulaney 

Anyway, that’s like mid-way through Andrew’s fourth year. They don’t speak again until a little before Andrew’s graduation. The Foxes have just won the Championships they made it to finals last year and lost the last  game :’( and so they’re having a party. Andrew needed some air so he stepped outside and, a little while later, he hears footsteps on the porch behind him. Jean sits down, leaving some space between the two of them so as not to crowd Andrew, and just sort of slides a piece of paper over. Andrew keeps up his cool guy facade for a while, assuming Jean will break first. He does. 

“Would you just look at it?” Jean snarled. Andrew flicked him a cool look before, picking up the paper painstakingly slowly. He held it up to his own face, not bothering to actually read it. “Illiterate too, I see.” Andrew could barely keep the scowl off his face. He squinted at the stack of papers he picked up. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Our goalkeep is, how you say? A piece of shit.”  

“You’re giving him more credit than he deserves,” Andrew cut in, his lips curling in a sneer. 

“I’m getting tired of being the last line of defense. It’s hard not having anyone to watch your back,” Jean said, shooting a meaningful look at Andrew. He elected to ignore it in favor of taking another drag of his cigarette. Jean muttered something that sounded like a curse before standing up and disappearing back into Abby’s house.

A month later, Jean stepped out of his apartment wondering which horrid little monsters the Cardinals had signed now. Turning towards the stairs, he found his answer waiting for him. 

“There’s no point in both of us driving down there. You make breakfast and I’ll drive,” the gremlin said. It wasn’t an offer or even a demand. He said it as though he were stating a fact. 

“The arrogance of Americans never fails to amaze me,” Jean shot back. 

“You’ve got dual citizenship, Frenchie. I’m sorry to say it, but that makes you one of us.” With that, the little monster turned on his heel and headed down the stairs. Jean muttered a steady stream of curses as he followed Andrew out to the Maserati

Having Andrew on his team is literally the worst. All he ever does is laze around. Sometimes, he’ll just lay down in the middle of the goal and stare at the ceiling. Jean gets a lot of shit for it bc he’s the one that recommended him for the line. It’s the day of their first game and tensions are high at practice when Jean loses his temper. He picks up an exy ball and hurls it at Andrew. Without even looking up, Andrew catches it with one hand. He stands slowly and throws it back so fast that Jean doesn’t have time to react. The ball wedges itself into the grate of his helmet, the force of it knocking him off his feet. Everyone assumes that Andrew isn’t going to play that night or will just be his asshole self but, when Jean finds himself struggling to hold the line, Andrew gets sent out and he’s an absolute monster in the goal. Every shot that comes his way gets deflected all the way down the court. The last goal of the night is made in the final seven seconds when Andrew slams a shot all the way down the court into the opposing goal. It lights up red and the crowd loses their shit. Exhausted, Jean collapses on the floor. 

“It’s hard not having anyone to have your back,” Andrew said as he passed by. By the time Jean found his voice, Andrew was already gone. Catching a ride home with one of the strikers, Jean felt a tightness in his chest. Andrew was an annoyingly lazy little bastard but Jean should have trusted him.

Jean doesn’t know how to apologize. Words are wasted on the likes of Andrew so he says nothing. He wakes early to make breakfast the next morning and says a silent prayer. Andrew is never late to anything but, when 6:30 rolls around and he isn’t there Jean’s heart plummets. He leaves the plate out on the counter while he eats. The ticking of the clock is deafeningly loud. At 6:47 there’s a knock at the door and Jean nearly faceplants in his hurry to answer it. 

“Your food’s gone cold,” Jean blurted out. Andrew turned a glare on him but said nothing as he shouldered his way into the apartment. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. His shoulders sagged, weighed down by exhaustion. There was no way he’d gotten a wink of sleep last night. 

“Moreau,” a voice said from the door. Jean whipped around to see Matt Boyd standing at the door. How he’d missed such a tall person standing in his doorway, Jean didn’t know. “Mind if I come in?” Jean stepped aside and Matt moved in. 

“Are you hungry?” Jean asked, haltingly. Boyd was the starting backliner for the Virginia Cavaliers, a whole state over. What the hell was he doing here? 

“I could eat,” Matt said brightly. He grabbed hold of a chair and dragged it over to where Andrew sat. 

“Not out of my plate,” Andrew snapped when Matt made to steal his eggs. Jean made his way to the kitchen to fix a third plate. From the dining room he could hear Andrew’s voice and Boyd’s laughter. Handing the plate over to him, Jean took his seat at the far end of the table. For the next quarter of an hour, Boyd rambled on about something or the other. If you asked Jean what he’d talked about, he wouldn’t have been able to say. He was far too absorbed in watching Andrew. 

The usual tension that pervaded his form had fallen away. Despite the obvious lack of sleep, Andrew seemed far more relaxed than usual. Every now and again, Jean saw his lips twitch up into the barest hint of a smile. From what he’d heard, Andrew had never had a good relationship with any of his teammates save Josten. But that made sense. Neil was his lover. What was it about Boyd that softened him so much? 

As soon as breakfast was finished and the plates cleaned, Jean disappeared back into his room to grab his phone. By the time he’d returned, both Andrew and Boyd were gone from the dining room. Jean found the pair blocking the open door. He stopped short when he heard Boyd’s voice. 

“I’ve missed you so much, Andy.” His words shook Jean to his core. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked quietly. Jean watched in stunned silence as Matt leaned down, mumbling yes a hair’s breadth away from Andrew’s lips. The second the word left his mouth, Andrew closed the distance between them. A soft moan slipped from Boyd’s lips and Jean watched in horror as he tangled his hands in Andrew’s hair. “Stop staring, Moreau,” Andrew said as he broke the kiss. 

“I thought that you and Josten-”

“We are,” Andrew cut in dismissively. “Matt is too.”

“Oh,” was all Jean could think to say. Back at the Nest, there had been no exclusive relationships. While most relationships in the real world weren’t like that, Jean had heard there were still a few. Boyd said his goodbyes before heading down the hall to the back stairwell. Andrew started off in the other direction. Jean had to run after him once he’d locked the door. Neither of them spoke in the car. They never did but there was a weight to the silence now that Jean didn’t know what to do about. A thousand small talk topics flitted through his head but he knew Andrew wouldn’t appreciate any of it so he kept his mouth shut, contenting himself to stare out the window. 

Jean is ready to run by the time that they pull up at the court but he doesn't. He needs to prove that he’s going to have Andrew’s back so he stays with him. 

It’s kind of awkward for a while. Andrew doesn’t like having Jean towering over him from behind bc it makes him feel vulnerable so he’s always really tense. 

The turning point in their relationship is when a striker from another team tries to start a twitter feud with Andrew. He gets asked about it in an interview and the interviewer pulls a Kathy Ferdinand and reveals that the striker is backstage. Jean is sitting with Andrew for the interview and when they try to start shit live on air, Jean snaps. He cuts the striker a new one, roasting them within an inch of their life and the interview is forced to end bc the striker throws a punch. Andrew steps in front of Jean, catching the punch with ease and judo flipping them. 

Neither of them really acknowledge that it happened but, when Andrew comes to breakfast the following Monday, he brings a loaf of sweet bread that he baked over the weekend. 

Things kind of settle after that. Sometimes Andrew leaves recipes for foods he wants and Jean starts filling their silences with something other than the news. He complains about Americans and moons over Jeremy and starts teaching Andrew French too. 

Jean has his own tiktok and most of his vids are of himself cooking and have Andrew reacting at the end but there’s a few subsections tho. One of them is Andrew and Jean and their baking escapades. It’s always super messy. Another is their ‘date nights’. On the weekends, the two of them get a little extra dressed up and go out to sample new restaurants.  They’re both massive foodies so they like to try new restaurants together. Andrew is a surprisingly picky eater and listening to him critic food is the most Jean has ever heard him speak. Platonic dates are actually incredibly nice n more ppl need to indulge in them. 

The final subsection is fashion/makeup. Jean likes to do makeup bc… why not? Sometimes, he manages to convince Andrew to let him be his model and does some really interesting looks on Andrew. Those videos never see the light of day but it’s something they do and it’s very important to Andrew. There’s something very intimate about letting Jean touch his face for hours on end but it also kind of feels nice. Also he loves the way Neil and Matt fawn over him when he skypes them with his makeup done. The fashion videos,  however, do go up. The two of them go to the mall p often and take turns styling each other. They do style challenges too where they’re both given the same horrible item (something like crocs or a really ugly sweater) and they have to make the other person look good in them. 

They do little nice things for each other. When Neil has a game against Bluefield, Jean gets Andrew front row tickets for him and manages to convince Matt to come down too. Andrew learns how to make french pastries that he leaves on Jean’s counter pretty often bc it reminds him of home. He also gets Allison to help him pull some strings and arrange for Jean to spend Christmas break in France with Jeremy. Jean doesn’t cry but he does tear up a little bit. 

Andrew is still a menace and you see that on his tiktok. He rigs ridiculous pranks like setting up a tripwire to dump glue and feather on him or wrapping all his stuff in plastic wrap.

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 5

So I was gonna try to upload an update for both fics, but I’m still feeling yucky so have this chapter for now which I’m sorry if it’s not great, the next one will be better I promise lol.

Tag List: @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @littlemisscare-all​

“Miss did you hear me?” The officer in front of me grunts.

“I’m sorry could you repeat the question for me?” I ask shyly focusing on him and not Kevin shouting and thrashing as the other cops are shoving him into the police car.

“I asked you if you could give me your recount of the events that took place tonight.”

“Oh right. Well…”

The flames are starting the consume the curtains and spread across the carpet as Tommy and I round the corner from my bedroom. I make a beeline for the kitchen to grab the extinguisher I had luckily purchased when Nikki started lighting himself on fire in their apartment. I toss it to Tommy and he gets everything currently on fire doused with the foamy liquid. 

“What the fuck?” He wonders aloud as he reaches down picking up a broken bottle out of the mess. “River who the fuck would throw a moltov cocktail in your apartment?”

It’s like Loki the God of chaos himself is answering him when my door is kicked in and Kevin sways in full of intoxicated rage. He spots me frozen with fear against the fridge and begins to stomp towards me.

“You fucking good for nothing cunt I should’ve killed you when I had the chance” He screams and lunges towards me but is knocked to the ground by Tommy tackling him.

Tommy’s fist is covered in blood by the time I can get him pulled off Kevin and he spits on him as I get him pulled out of there just in time for the police and fire department to be pulling into the parking lot.

“We’ll be in touch.” The man hands me his card with his info on it before getting in his car and leaving.

Tommy is silent as we walk back to my apartment for me to inspect the damage done. My plants near my window scorched and my carpet destroyed is enough to send me over the edge. I collapse in the fetal position and let myself break down for the first time since the chaos began. I feel Tommy lay on the ground next to me and wrap his arms around me letting me have my moment. 

“Thank you.” I hoarsely let out.

“I told you that you were stuck with us guys for the rest of your life especially me.” He pressed a small kiss to my shoulder and butterflies filled my stomach.

“Let's get off the ground.” I sniffle the both of us sitting back up slowly and eventually clambering back into my bed. 

He pulls me against his body and rests his chin on the top of my head, the soft movement of him breathing lulling me to sleep.

“It’s the goddamn principal of the matter.” Nikki ranted as he paced through my living room while I tried to enjoy my morning coffee.

“So tell Vince you’re pissed.”

“No I can’t let him think he won. He needs to think I never wanted Beth in the first place.” He scoffed.

“Did you want Beth?”

“She gives great blowjobs. That’s why I suggested a threesome in the first place.” He plops into one of my chairs looking up at the ceiling.

“Listen Nikki I’m gonna be brutally honest since we’re friends and you would be with me, this is your fault for opening up your girlfriend to Vince Neil.”

“I hate it when you’re right you know that?”

“You’ll find a new groupie to fuck Nikki you’ll be fine. Now we gotta get to the studio you boys have photos for the album we need to take today.”

The boys had finished recording their first album by the grace of God himself. They spent the entire few days in the studio drunk and pissing off their sketchball manager, but by the end of it they had a full blown album that didn’t take much money to produce. They even got to save money on photos for the album since I was their personal photographer, which aforementioned sketchball was thrilled about. His name was Alan, but I didn’t have a good feeling about him so I rarely referred to him by his name, not to his face.

“My hair isn’t going to show!” Vince pouted in front of the (awful) white background Alan had thrown together for their album pictures.

“It’ll be fine Vinnie we’re gonna get them edited by a professional.” He quipped from beside me.

“Excuse me?” I ask unaware he was having somebody else  edit my photos.

“Well yeah sweetheart you expect me to trust the work of an amature to look good enough without editing? You’re out of your mind.” 

“Listen here you sweaty ass-” I’m cut off by Tommy’s hand covering my mouth blocking the next slew of insults I had prepared.

“Let's take 5 for a cigarette break” He says cheerfully and leads me away still covering my mouth.

“You can stop licking my hand thinking that is gonna make me move it from your mouth you know.” Tommy says after dragging me outside the building we were shooting in. I pull away from him and fix him with a death glare that he just chuckles at lighting up a cigarette.

“I don’t want someone else to fuck with my photos Tommy. They’ll ruin it, I just know it.”

“It’ll be fine Riv. Besides if it’s fucked up then next time Alan can pay you more to do the photos and the editing.”

“Yeah that cheap bastard isn’t about to pay me more for jack shit Tommy.” I roll my eyes and pace back and forth in front of him. “Are you guys sure you want him as your manager? He gives me a weird feeling.”

“I think you’re paranoid babe” Tommy pulled me close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Now lets get through this photoshoot so we can party it up later alright?”

“As much as I hate The Troubadour sometimes, yes I’m willing to get through the rest of the photoshoot so that we can go ‘party it up’ with the boys there” I tease and lean in close to him.

Tommy’s intoxicating scent of leather, cigarettes, and the men’s body wash I’ve been getting him to use pulls me in and I tuck my face into his neck and place a soft kiss there. He hums as his hand plays softly in my hair and he pulls slightly to tilt my head up. Our lips connect in a soft peck and he pulls away to stroke my cheek with his thumb.

When I walk back in Alan was nowhere to be found, which was perfect for me so that I could get my work done faster. Vince it seems has also finished his little temper tantrum as well. The rest of the shoot goes by without a hitch and we get our final shot for the cover of the album, which was just a close up shot of Vince’s crotch. By the time we get done and piled into my car it’s about time to get ready for the party the boys were throwing for completing the album and releasing it themselves on their own record label.

“Are you Nikki Sixx?” A voice off to the side of Nikki calls and he turns from our conversation with a shit eating grin giving her a single “no”  in response.

“Oh well that’s a shame cause I was going to split this quaalude with him.” She shrugs and goes to move on, but Nikki quickly stops her and confirms he in fact is Nikki Sixx and he was just fucking with her.

I watch her smile and bite her drug in half placing the other half onto Nikki’s tongue and he looks like he just might be falling in love for the first time. I look around and see Vince and Beth wrapped up together and Mick nursing his bottle of vodka, but I can’t find Tommy. I make my way through the crowd up to the bar and I don’t spot the tall brunette anywhere. He could just be outside smoking a cigarette, I tell myself feeling the bits of insecurity start to blossom in my head. 

“Two Jack and Cokes please” I say to the bartender when I finally get his attention. I figure if I go to find Tommy with a drink in hand it makes me look less like a crazy person.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing ordering your own drinks?” The man to my left says and I have to put effort into not rolling my eyes.

“Well nothing on me is broken so I’m more than capable of getting my own drinks” I shoot back trying to walk away, but his hand comes up to block me from going forward.

“I’m just saying if you got a man he should be catering to you. What’s your name goddess?” His sickening grin shows teeth all too white against far too tan of skin. 

“Her name is none of your business.” A deep huff comes from behind me and I turn to see Mick casually leaning against the bar.

“What are you her fucking dad?” The overly bronze man snaps.

“I’m trying to help you, but if you don’t want to keep all your fucking teeth that’s your dumbass decision.” Mick chuckles and tips his head to Tommy making his way towards us already sending hate eyes to the man next to me.

“You should listen to the man.” I shrug. “He fights.” I nod toward Tommy for emphasis.

The man looks like he’s about to argue when I feel Tommy slide his arm across my shoulders.

“This guy bothering you babe?” He asks sipping the drink in my hand never breaking eye contact with the strange guy with a look that said ‘one wrong move and I’ll kill you.

I smile like a cat that just caught a mouse and sip my drink as well.

My back hits the back wall of the closet as Tommy tries to find a secure place to hold my body so he can kiss me and grind into me at the same time.

“Fuck can I get this kind of reaction everytime I stick up for you.” Tommy pants breaking away from our kissing to catch his breath.

He hisses as I grind against him while pulling his hair back to expose his neck to me. I take the opportunity to nip at the skin there and feel the rumbling of another groan pass through him. Tommy begins to unlace his pants and suddenly the realization of how public we are hits me. Right as a worker opens the closet door to be exact.

“Ah I’m so sorry!” I yelp climbing off Tommy and rushing out of the closet and out the back door. Tommy is hot on my tail quickly catching up with the help of his long ass legs.

“Come on.” Tommy begins leading me to my car. “We’re going to your apartment to finish this.