#then I said fuck it and shoved it all off the table and went apeshit

[thenntrewrite]

I'm not exactly sure how to approach this, so how about we start with some redesigns I've made and explaining the thought process behind the designs? We'll start off with the man, the myth, the legend himself:

Meliodas

I'll be honest. I do not like the shota/childlike appearance that is Meliodas. I get that it's suppose to be part of a running shtick of, "oh my God, he's a child—wait no he's a grown ass man?!" or a personal preference for the author (who makes a lot of his adult characters look like children/quite young for their age), but it's playing into one of the tropes I hate (looks young but is actually an ancient being). If it's your cup of tea, more power to you, but it's not my kind of flavor, so we're redoing him design-wise while also trying to keep some things (colors mainly).

So for his design, the thought process was like this:

Since he's a demon, I was like, "okay, bet" and told myself to pick one (1) from the three (3) options I gave myself, which was dragon, goat and crow— dragon in reference to his sin (Wrath) which is usually associated with dragons, goat because of goats being associated with hell and Baphomet and the Devil always have goat features, and crow because Morgan le Fay (which is his future wife in my rewrite, surprise! This bit is moreso fanservice to my middle school self. I'm sorry Melizabeth lovers, don't eat me alive)'s animal is usually the crow and crows are seen associated with death and that ties in with his curse of immortality.

Now, the goat jumped at me the most because it's the one most heavily associated with Hell, and he is the son of the Demon Lord whom I named Felec (based on Arthurian Legend, the little information we have on him), and I saw these amazing goats for someone's DnD character, and it just fueled my need to draw him as a goat more. The original idea was to give him goat-like features which was the ears, horns, the pupils, but then I got to thinking, "man, the seven deadly sins are all suppose to be from different races, yet it's hard to tell with how all of them looked practically human" and I know I can easily say, "ah no, this is just his human form, his true form is a lot more demonic and he needs the human form to blend in", but then I thought, "that's so boring", so lo and behold, I start with his eyes and worked my way from there.

I changed his hair to curls because his old spiky hair was not working, and his outfit had got to go because I thought, "he'd look more sick with goat legs", and made him two different outfits to accommodate that and to fit the medieval fantasy setting better. I was thinking of blending some attributes of a dragon and a crow to make him more demonic like, but I don't know, I just really like what I made and thought other features would throw everything off balance. Maybe he comes off more like a cursed goat and rolls with that idea so people don't suspect him of anything, but hey, I can always tweak it to make him more demonic if it doesn't come off that way. And I did not want to give him dark colors for his fur—that's going to go to his youngest brother, Zeldris.

(Here's my first official post! Hope you enjoy @gh0stofyesterday )

[lauraashley93]

It’s A New Phenomenon

Here’s a little happy story for you my loves.

Hope you enjoy.

Warning:none.

It was a quiet day at the scrap yard. You were there with Letty. You and her had became quite close even though there was an age difference. She had quickly became your best friend when she had defended you from some hang around punks around town. You loved her attitude. You started coming to her place more and she introduced you to her dad Coco. Coco seemed to like you and thought you were a good influence for Letty although he thought you needed to toughen up a bit.

You were a bit shy, always had been. You were a pretty girl but you had always been picked on. Maybe it was because you were some what nerdy? You didn’t know but you never did know quite how to stand up for yourself. Letty had been giving you pointers every now and then and you always shook your head and blushed at some of the things she would tell you to say and do.

“Come on “y/n. You gotta show them you ain’t some pussy bitch!” “LETTY!! I am not gonna throw someone down and threaten to castrate them and say... that... well.. you know...well.. that..” you were starting to blush when Letty cut you off. “What? That if they make fun of you that you will rip their dick off and shove it up their ass?” Letty rolled her eyes as you two walked into the club house. “Really y/n you gotta start sticking up for yourself.” You rolled your eyes and sat down at one of the tables. “I’m gonna go find my dad. I’ll be right back. You nodded your head at her as she walked to the back. Letty found Coco taking a drag of his cigarette when she approached he threw a hand up.

“Where’s y/n? I thought you all were hanging out?” Letty smiled a mischievous smile. “Oh we are. She’s inside. I was trying to give her more pointers on how to stick up for herself she ain’t wanting to listen though.” Coco eyed her suspiciously. “Ah no. I know that look. What are you up to Leticia?” “Nuttin’. I just figured if I can’t talk her into doing it maybe if she’s forced into it, it will help.” Coco raised his eyebrow. “What the fuck did you do?” “I ain’t do nothing. Angel is.” Just then Ez walked up. “What is Angel doing?” Letty shrugged. “Teaching y/n how to defend herself.”

Just then there was a loud crash from inside the clubhouse and and yelling was heard. All three of their eyes grew wide as they took off running when they got inside the sight in front of them was one to be had. Angel was on the ground and you had a look of rage on your face and your hand was balled into a fist. The table was knocked over and the chairs were too. Bishop and a couple of the others were walking out of templo staring at the scene before them. Coco was the first to speak.

“Why is he bleeding?

“Because he is an idiot.” You spoke through clenched teeth.

Letty furrowed her brows and Ez laughed then spoke, “I didn’t know idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose?”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s a new phenomenon.” You said as you kicked Angel as you walked by. Angel slowly stood up holding his nose trying to steady himself. Bishop looked at you shocked and smirked. “Yeah but all joking aside, what was that about kiddo?” Bishop questioned. You glared at Angel as you answered him. “Angel said he thought he could show me and Letty a good time and ‘tear that pussy up’ and when I told him that there would be no way in hell that would happen he proceeded to call us both bitches and other not so very nice names and I didn’t appreciate it!!!”

Coco was about to get mad before Letty started laughing. “ so you won’t defend yourself but someone talks about me and you go apeshit? Damn bitch. That’s a true ass friend. Sorry you got punched Angel least we know she can hold her own.”

You looked at Letty, “wait you planned this??” You looked over at Angel. “You set it up?” Letty nodded as Angel slung his arm over you. “We sure did mami. I’d never actually talk to you like that. Especially aboit Coco’s daughter.” Angel smiled at you and kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him. “I should have known better!! You guys are terrible!”

Bishop started laughing. “Remind me not to piss you off y/n.” Everyone started going outside. You went to follow but someone grabbed your arm. You turned around to see Coco staring at you. “What’s up Coco?” You could have swore you seen his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he stared at the ground. He looked super nervous which you thought was off so you took your hand and gently placed it under his chin and pushed his face to look at you. “Hey, what’s on your mind, love?” He smiled, he always loved when you called him that. Truth was he had really started to fall for you a couple weeks after you came around. There was something about how sweet you were, how gently and kind you were. You were something different and he couldn’t get enough of you. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and he grabbed your hand.

“Y/n I just kind of found it sexy the way you stood up for Letty like that. And truth is I’ve liked you for awhile now and I was just maybe wondering if you’d wanna maybe go out to dinner with me or something like on a date?” He quickly took his gaze from your eyes to the floor. You smiled as your cheeks turned red. You couldn’t believe it. You’ve always had a crush on Coco but never knew how Letty would feel about the idea of it so you never said anything but you definitely weren’t gonna turn it down if he was the one initiating it.

“I’d really like that, Johnny.” His head popped up and his smile was huge. He loved the way his name sounded on your lips. He couldn’t help himself. He kissed you and wrapped his arms around you as you kissed him back and tangled your fingers in his hair. You pulled away slowly and smiled and looked at him. “You know, if I knew all I had to do was punch Angel to get you to ask me out. I would have done it a lot sooner” Coco laughed at that and kissed you again. You might not have been happy about it before but you were so thankful Letty set you up with that stupid fight with Angel now.

@angelreyesgirl @auroraariza @spookys-girl @trulysuccubus @stunning-shitz @rosieposie0624 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @skyofficialxx @strawberrywritings @bucky-iss-bae-archive @miss-nori85 @cind-in-real-life @deeandbobbymcgee @starrynite7114 @louisianalady @itsjaybeast @-im-fantastic- @justatiredfool @scuzmunkie @ly-canthropewrites @yourwonkywriter

[thedramaclubs]

Changing lives (reprise)

Summery: Roman and Remus get the rest of the reviews and it was horrible that it closed their show. They soon meet one of their old friends and Remus’s husband meets them and soon they find something on Twitter to change their lives

Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety, demus/dukeceit

When their singing

Remus-green

Roman-red

Janus-orange

C!thomas-pink

All-purple

“The rest of the reviews are in! New York post, associated press, New York times” exclaimed Joan with ther phone in the air everyone started to get excited and looked on their phones as Roman and Remus are about to listen to how great their musical is........or so they thought.

Everyone’s faces changed to a sad and disappointed look and started leaving

“What? What’s happening?” said Roman as he watch everyone look at him and his brother in sadness.

“This is not a review anyone wants when you have shitty advance sales. This is gonna close us” said Joan

Roman gasp and Remus was shocked “What didn’t they like was it the hip hop?”

“Yeah but not that”

“For gods sake sakes Joan read it.” The twins sat down as Joan read the horrible reviews.

“Ok here’s the highlights, “Remus Allen’s FDR might just be the most insulting misguided, offensive, and laughable performance that this reviewer has ever had the squirming misfortune to endure. Emphasis on the insulting because he try to make him self look like that he was trying to give me intrusive thoughts about FDR.”

“That’s how I normally look what the hell?!?!”

“I mean it’s not so bad” said Roman as he played with his dress

“DO HIM ALREADY!!” “What I’m just saying.”

“Watching Romans Eleanor Roosevelt, corking out a heavy-handed message of activism, is like paying an aging drag queen to shove a syurp-soaked American flag down my throat. And also Eleanor should have been played by a women”

Roman was on the verge of tears “Thats not criticism that’s a personal attack.” His voice cracked and Remus hugged him as he shed a tear

“If your considering buying a ticket to the show do yourself a favor. By a few feet of good heavy rope instead and then go hang yourself”

“Holy fuck, oh god, poopy. Was the show that bad?”

“It’s not the show it’s you two. Your just not likeable.”

“What?” They said simultaneously

“Nobody likes a narcissist.” They sat in silence over what they just heard. “Leave it to me I’ll go and try to change the narrative once again” Joan then left the twins alone in the bullding

“I hate this world” “this just hurts my heart, Where did everybody go?”

They talked over each other as the walk to the bar to find a man in a pink suit. “What can I get ya?” said the man “Yola mezcal blackberry smash” said the twins at the same time. “My condolences Roman. But remember you do have friends” said the man making their drinks.”

“Thank you. Who are you?”

“Thomas Sanders.......we’ve done five shows together.”

“Ugh Thomas went to Juilliard and won’t shut up about.” Whispered Remus as he told Roman “Oh right Thomas. Thomas haha....... why are you dressed like waiter?” I’m in between gigs at the moment. Honestly Roman I feel adrift as i did in my days before Juilliard” Remus proceed to chug a drink that was on the table as Thomas continued to talk about Juilliard and the two were just over it.

“Still I have played hamlet and I’m still known as that guy from the beloved early aughts sitcom “Talk to the hand” I question everything about my existence” As he continues to rant about the past what they didn’t notice as a man in a golden sequiny dress with a black hat and a yellow ribbon tied on it with long golden brown hair walking their way

“Hey guys!”

Roman and Remus turned around to see Janus Allen, Remus’s husband

“Jannie!!!” Remus picked up Janus and spun him around and soon dipped him into a kiss which turn into a make out session. “Ahem I know you two lovebirds haven’t seen each other all day but can it wait we’re still here ya know.” They both looked at Roman and giggle a little from embarrassment “Sorry your show closed on opening night again. Welcome to the world of the unemployed,hit me up next.”

“I thought you were in Chicago?” asked Remus “I totally didn’t quit just now 20 years in the chorus and still wouldn’t let me play Roxie Hart and now their letting Tina Louise play her” “That bitch is still alive” said Remus as he chugs another drink

“We’re wasting our lives.” Said Roman as they are all slightly drunk “Ok I refuse to give up we’re still celebrities we still have power.” “Yeah well The Times casted you out” said Thomas as he poured another drink “Yep they wrote you off as aging narcissist and I’m only allowed to call Remus that.” “I still don’t understand what’s wrong with that.” Said Roman as he drinks even more. “You know what we will become celebrity arsonist.” “Babe it’s call celebrity activist we are not burning down another building like last time.” “Ok everyone think of causes.”

“Poverty”

“World hunger”

“Too big we need something we can handle”

“Let’s see whats trending” said Janus “Trump, trump, trump, ooo how about this boy he’s all over Twitter. His names Patton Heart. He’s from edgewater, Indiana. He’s gay. He wanted to take his boyfriend to the highschool prom and the pta went apeshit and canceled it.”

We are now in Edgewater, Indiana and Patton Heart is watching the head of the pta, Mrs Green being interviewed. “We have very strict rules for prom. Young ladies must wear non-revealing dresses. Young men must wear suits or tuxes. And if a student chooses to bring a date it must be of the opposite sex” “Can’t you just ban this student?” “Well we’ve been advised that there may be some legal repercussions if we prevent this boy from attending so although it breaks my heart we have no choice to cancel prom.” We move to Mr Virgil Hawkins the principal “The first thing I’m going to do is contact the state attourney this is not about school rules this is a civil right case.” “Wait seriously?” Said Patton. “Yes and if word gets out people will get mad and next thing you know some modern day Eleanor Roosevelt is gonna come and hell’s gonna break loose.”

We move back to New York “We got to go down their and raise holy hell” exclaimed Roman “We’ll be the biggest thing to happen to Indiana since........whatever’s happen in Indiana are you with me!?!” Said Remus as he and Roman start stand on top of a table they all cheered “We’ll get Joan to tag along to find us a venue” “I just book us a non-union tour of Godspell and I goes through Indiana we can ride on the bus.” Said Thomas “Can we do this guys” Said Janus “You bet your sweet MILF ass we can jannie”

🎶 We are gonna prove that in this day and age being gay isn’t a crime. This is out moment to change the world one homo 🎶

🎶Homo🎶

🎶Homo 🎶

🎶Homo🎶

🎶At a time🎶

🎶 we’re gonna help that little homo, whether he likes it or not, when your a legendary thespian 🎶

🎶First you help the distressed 🎶

🎶Then you help the distraught🎶

🎶We’re gonna go to where the necks are red and lack of dentistry thrives, Why sing and dance when you can take a stance🎶

🎶And know your truly changing lives. We’re gonna March until that town looks like the end of act one in les mis. You don’t gotta have a Ph.D in psych to know that people kowtow to the folks in the biz🎶

🎶We’re gonna teach’em to be more PC the minute or group arrives🎶

🎶That’s right🎶

🎶Those fist-pumping🎶

🎶Bible-thumping🎶

🎶Spam-eating🎶

🎶Cousin-humping🎶

🎶Cow-tipping🎶

🎶Shoulder-slumping🎶

🎶Tea-bagging🎶

🎶Jesus-jumping🎶

🎶Losers and their inbred wives. They’ll learn compassion🎶

🎶And better fashion🎶

🎶Once we at last start changing lives!!!!🎶

🎶Now let’s go help that dyke🎶

People to tag/ @artissijules

This took a long time to write

[yikesharringrove]

Hi there! Can I get something with #13 and #39 with lots of hurt!Billy?, please friend?

Thank you for your request!

13: “Does it hurt?”

39: Stranded with a broken-down car

Prompts!

This got very long, and very angsty although I tried to throw some sweetness around. I hope you enjoy! I have included a lot of my own headcanons about Billy’s mom and his early life soooo. I was also thinking this takes place after season 2, maybe late April? idk.

There isn’t all that much hurt Billy, more Billy’s hurt leads him to word vomiting at Steve and them bonding 🤷‍♀️ I really hope you like it though!

Steve was fucked.

The engine of the BMW was cold. It wouldn’t even try to turn over when he turned the key in the ignition. No sound came from the under the hood.

Steve was on the edge of Hawkins, he had been at the quarry, wiling away some time while he couldn’t sleep. It was probably close to four in the morning now, so he said fuck it, got out of the car, and started walking home. He would hopefully make it with enough time for a shower and some coffee before walking to school. Maybe his old ten-speed was in the garage still...

Headlights blared at him from around the corner, sweeping over and past him before the car stopped and reversed, pulling up with the passenger door at Steve’s elbow.

“Harrington, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Billy Hargrove, his knight in shining denim was speaking through the window, near shouting over the loud purr of the engine and the screaming of some metal band Steve didn’t bother to know the name of.

“I’m walking.”

“I see that, dumbshit. Why are you walking down the fucking highway at four-thirty in the fucking morning?”

“Car broke down by the quarry. Figured I would walk home.” Steve shuffled his feet, looking down. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep. So. Went for a drive.”

“Get in.” He almost didn’t hear Billy’s command, but Steve knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, he got in.

“Thanks, man.” Billy just nodded slightly, his face mostly hidden by the darkness of the night. He floored the car, speeding along away from Hawkins. “Um, you know my house is-it’s the other way.” Steve took in how tense Billy was, his jaw clamped and his shoulders raised. His grip on the steering wheel was nothing like the lazy one-hand her usually kept.

“You ever just need to escape? Even for a little bit?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” Steve settled in his seat. He was not opposed to taking a drive with Billy, who seemed to relax a bit. Steve was always good at reading other people. Sometimes he ignored his gut feelings in favor of something he so desperately wanted (the whole Nancy situation was example enough for that), but he could tell when something was wrong. And something was really fuckin wrong with Billy Hargrove tonight.

They drove in silence, flying down the main highway, past the Leaving Hawkins sign.

Steve turned down the music a fraction. “You wanna go get breakfast? I know a good all diner in Indianapolis. They’ll probably be open by the time we get there. My treat.”

Billy just shrugged, but he didn’t turn the music back up, and Steve called that a win.

It was nearly two hours to the city, longer if the person driving you wasn’t a speed demon, so the sun was rising by the time fields began to give way into suburbs, suburbs blooming into urbanism.

Steve sat up, ready to direct Billy to the diner on the corner of Shelby and Norton when he caught sight of Billy in the weak morning sun.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Billy, what happened?” His left eye was puffy, the cheekbone below it swollen and purple, a cut right on the high point. His jaw had long bruises on either side, as though, well it looked as though someone had grabbed him by it.

Steve thinks the worst thing were Billy’s hands.

His knuckles were white, his grip a vice on the steering wheel, but they were free of any bruising, any splits. Steve had been on the receiving end of those fights. He knew Billy fought back, and well, so if he didn’t.

Maybe he couldn’t.

The thought sent a chill down Steve’s spine.

“Can it Harrington. I’m fucking fine.”

“You’re obviously not ‘fucking fine’, Billy. What happened? Who did this?”

“Look, Princess. I’m not one of your fucking kids, so just shut your fucking mouth and leave it the fuck alone or I will make you get out of my fucking car and WALK back to shithole Hawkins. Give me directions, or get out.”

Steve sighed and led Billy along, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

They pulled up in front of Joe’s Shelby Street Diner just as a kind looking waitress with a round face and a gray ponytail was flipping the sign from closed to open.

“Welcome in boys. Take a seat anywhere you like and I’ll be by with some menus.” She blinked at Billy’s face. “And some coffee.” Steve just nodded at her and led Billy to a corner both against the windows.

“My parents used to take me here.” Steve was staring down at his hands on the table, not knowing where to look. “When I was little my dad opened a branch in the city and got an apartment out here. He would only come home on weekends so every Tuesday my mom would pick me up from school, and we’d drive out here together, and meet my dad for dinner.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling billy all of this.

“My mom worked at a joint like this. I would come and hang out after school. She would sneak me rootbeer floats and help me with my homework on her breaks.” He was smiling bitterly. Steve had never heard Billy say anything about his mother before.

“What was she like?”

Billy took a breath, his own hands nervously tugging on the sleeves of his jacket. The denim one. Steve liked it.

“She had me real young, dropped outta high school when she got pregnant at fifteen kinda young. My dad was in Vietnam when I was born. Married her when he came back. I was six. She was a total hippie, she got kicked outta her house when she got knocked up, and lived on a commune with a buncha people until my dad came back. I think she only married him so she could have a place to sleep that wasn’t a tent in a field. I don’t remember a lotta that. didn’t eat any meat until I was, like eight years old. And she fuckin’ named me after William Pester, this like hippie leader who was real famous or something. ”

Billy took a break from his story when the kind waitress returned to get their orders, both boys loading up on breakfast. Steve tried not to speak so loud, afraid of breaking this spell he had created in this booth with Billy.

“Once my dad was back in the picture, it was pretty different. He’s an asshole. Made her change everything about herself. She was always real Catholic, but kind of a free spirit. Only listened to the parts of The Bible that were nice and said to love everyone, but my dad said pickin’ and choosin’ from The Bible was just pussyfooting around religion. She didn’t like that.

“He was a piece of shit from the jump. Married her because ‘a good man supports his family’ or some garbage. Good man my ass. He would yell at her about how she was raisin’ me. Said he left to defend our country, and here she was making sure his only son grew up to be a fuckin’, well. He has a few choice words about me.”

Their food was set down before them, Steve absolutely enraptured by everything Billy was saying. They ate in silence for a minute.

“Do you mind if, I mean, did she pass away?” Steve wanted Billy to keep talking. He liked learning more about him. Every word he said only softened the edges, made him so much more human.

“Nah. She left. Packed her shit one night and was just, gone. She called me a few weeks later and I fuckin’ BEGGED her to take me with her, but she wouldn't come back. I think she went back to her commune or something. I haven’t seen her since I was ten.”

“So, you’ve been with your dad ever since?”

“Yeah. He’s not jazzed about it. Always likes to remind me that I’m a bastard. He’s the one that fucked a fifteen-year-old. He was like, twenty when he did that.”Billy rolled his eyes, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.

“Did he, do,, that?” Steve asked the question slowly, carefully. Billy snapped his eyes up to meet him.

“So what if he did?”

“I mean-I just, does it hurt?” Billy just stared.

“Are you stupid?” Steve recoiled. “Of course it fucking hurts. He got me real good this time. He’s been especially bitter since we moved here.”

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid, stupid question.” Steve pushed around the scrambled egg on his plate. “Why did you guys move here?”

“You want Neil’s fake answer, or do you want the real one?” Billy leaned in conspiratorily. Steve mirrored him without even meaning to. “Can you keep a secret, Pretty Boy?”

Images of tunnels, of monsters, of staring death in the face and charging it with a spiked bat, dreams of hard, muscular masculine bodies flashed through his mind.

“Yeah. I’m good at secrets.”

“So Neil likes to say it’s to get a fresh start. Move somewhere where nobody knows us. We can have a clean slate as a family.” He spat the last few words out. “But the real story is, he wanted to get my gay ass outta liberal, free lovin’ California, to a shitty hick town where I would be the victim of a fuckin’ hate crime if I let my impulses run wild. He caught me with a guy. We weren’t even doing anything good, just makin’ out. Dad went apeshit though. Threw me down some stairs.” He rolled his eyes and casually kept eating like he hadn’t just dropped this enormous fucking bomb on Steve. 

“I’m so sorry, Bill.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t hit me. It wasn’t the first time, sure as shit wasn’t the last.”

“Is that why your mom left?”

“Yeah, she was gettin’ it pretty bad there. I mean, so was I, so I don’t get why she left me there with him. Sometimes I really hate her for it.”

“I’m sor-” Steve cut himself off when Billy gave him a sharp look. “You don’t deserve that, is all.”

“I don’t get you, Harrington. You sit there, after I dumped all this shit on you, gave you some incriminating facts about me, and you just tell me I don’t deserve to get hit by my old man. I beat the shit outta you, remember?”

“Yeah, but honestly, I was being super shady that night. I shouldn’t have lied to you about Max.” Steve shrugged. 

“That wasn’t all you, Harrington. I had gotten into it with my dad about her, how she’s my responsibility and all that, and then Mrs. fuckin’ Wheeler was all over me when I went there-I mean, don’t get me wrong. I definitely flirted a little to get some information from her, but all I really did was like, stand there. I think I ate a cookie. Usually, older women just get a little flustered, but she was, like, into it. So, I was runnin’ pretty hot by the time I met you.”

“Oh my GOD, Karen used to flirt with me all the time! I would just sit and awkwardly smile and be like, yes hello, I am here to see your teenage daughter, since I am her teenage boyfriend.” Billy laughed at that, a real boisterous laugh Steve had never heard from him before. Steve decided he liked it. 

“That’s fucking disgusting. Just because she’s unhappy with her life, doesn’t mean she gets to throw her cat at teenage boys.” Steve choked on his pop, trying not to spew it all over the table. 

“Please never say that again,”  he coughed out as Billy threw his head back and laughed. He slowly regained himself. “And, you know, I mean what I said. I’m good at secrets. I won’t, I’m not gonna tell anybody.” Billy smiled at him. 

“Yeah? King Steve got some secrets? Any you’d like to share with the class? You know, so we’re on even turf here.” Billy winked. Steve’s face went hot. 

“Well, I mean, you and I may have some things in, uh, in common.” 

“What, like shitty dads?”

“No. Well, I mean yes, but other things.”

“Mommy issues?”

“Oh, definitely, but like, OTHER stuff, too.” He willed Billy to understand. He didn’t know if he’d be able to say it out loud. 

Luckily Billy got it. A look of pure shock spread over his face, followed by a huge grin.

“No fuckin’ way. No fuckin’ way you’re gay too, Harrington.”

“Well, I mean. I don’t know.”

Billy’s face fell.

“You don’t know?”

“I mean, like, I like girls. A lot. Like I love girls and everything about them, but there’s also, there’s also guys. And I-there’s definite interest, is what I’m saying.”

Billy smiled again, a softer one this time. 

“That’s okay. Y’know some people are into both. Bisexual, is the word. David Bowie is bisexual. For some people, it’s more about the personality of the person, less the, bits I guess.”

“There’s-I mean-Bowie? Sorry, I just mean, like, there are people like that?”

“Yeah, the whole thing doesn’t have to be black and white if that’s not what you feel.”

“Fuck. That was-thanks man.” Steve mulled the word around in his head. Bisexual. It made sense. It felt, good. “Bisexual.” Billy smiled at him again. He returned it.

Billy checked his watch, yawning like a huge cat. 

“Fuck, Pretty Boy. We should probably head back. If we go fast we could probably only be a little bit late for class. 

“I mean, or we could say fuck it.” 

Billy’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah? What do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t even care man, but it’s been way too long since I’ve been in the city, and I feel like we could both use a break from fucking Hawkins. Plus, I don’t know. I like hanging out with you.”

Steve ducked his head, studying the patch of table by Billy’s left elbow, face hot and undoubtedly red. 

“I could go for a nice day of playing hooky with you.” Steve beamed at Billy, throwing some bills down on the table. 

“Then lets fucking go then.” He bounded back to the Camaro, Billy’s sweet laugh ringing through the diner.

Oh yeah, Steve could definitely get used to this.

[harringroveheart]

harringrove horror wip

promises to keep (and miles to go before I sleep) -- untitled sequel | follows on from [this]

:::

Billy drank so much chlorine. Bleach, when he could get it. Hydrofluoric acid, once. He felt sick all the time. Felt himself dissolving away out from under.

When the monster spears him through the chest, it’s a relief.

:::

Dying takes a long time. He can hear voices, feel Max shaking him. Crying. There are sirens too, just too late.

It hurts on and off. All over.

He twists in and out of worlds like overarm swimming – a breath on the surface and a stroke underwater. Light and nothingness. Pain, deep, sucking, all-encompassing, and then just—floating.

Time slips away.

:::

That fucking… beeping. Will someone please turn it off so he can sleep?

:::

His dad holds him, rocks with him.

“My boy, my boy, my boy,” he says, choked up on tears. His words are wet, rough, hot in Billy’s ear. “I’m going to make it right this time.”

Billy keeps rocking with him because he can’t stop.

It’s his first day back from the hospital, but he won’t know it for two more months.

:::

Max is shaking her head. “This one,” she says, putting the fork in his hand.

“I made your favorite,” Susan says, looking to Neil, eyes nervous. She puts the casserole down on the table.

Max shakes her head again: It’s not.

It tastes like crap.

It’s better than antifreeze.

:::

Home, Billy thinks. He keeps staring, forgetting how to blink, where he is, how he got here. His feet are cold past hurting.   

Harrington looks around and down the long stretch of asphalt disappearing into the woods, his eyes darting back to Billy, dark and knowing. The moonlight makes them look wet.

“That’s not your home,” he says. “Let me take you back.”

He’s cold everywhere except where Harrington’s palm presses against his chest.

:::

“Thanks,” he says a little while later, in the car.

“For what?” 

“For hitting me with your car.”

“Well…It wasn’t really mine.”

“Well. I wasn’t really me.”

“You’re you now, though,” Harrington says, more question than it should be. “You know that, right?” 

:::

He has to wait all day to see him. 

He finishes his shift late, when it’s already dark and the parking lot is still swarming with cars. People going to the movies. People picking up their kids. Harrington is too tired or too distracted to notice Billy at first. Does a double take.

When he sees that Billy isn’t there to chase him, he comes closer. Follows Billy into the dark corner behind the loading bay where the Chinese restaurant dumps its trash.

It’s just how he thought it would look: the sailor uniform. Billy feels something like a smile.

“What are you doing here?” Harrington asks, suspicious. Not as hard-toned as it could be. They’ve seen each other around. Eyes over headlights on the dark drive to the Byers’ house. Tense quiet shared in the locker room after practice when they’re both afraid of each other for different reasons.  

“Just felt like seeing a familiar face,” he says.

It’s the truth. It’s all he wants. Harrington’s face is familiar and new all at once, every damn time. He looks clean, rosy. If Billy touched his cheek it would leave a mark. If he touched his hair, he could never trust himself not to stop touching it.

“You okay in there, Hargrove?” Harrington asks. “You look a little…”

I’m okay, Harrington, he thinks.

It’s just sweat.

:::

They shaved his head, Max tells him, putting her hand over his on the gearshift. In, left, second, drive.

“Neil went apeshit,” she says. “No. In, left, second, drive. There. You got it.”

“Did I look stupid?”

“No. You still looked good. Not like you, though. Do you want me to cut it again?”

He laughs. “No way,” he says. “Harrington’d kill me.”

She’s looking at him funny. He stops. Looks down at his hands. Remembering and forgetting.

“Why would Steve kill you, Billy?”

The wheel is warm under his fingers like it remembers him just fine. 

:::

After dinner he washes dishes, quiet and careful, staring at his reflection caught and dulled in the opaque blackness of the window over the sink. The flower boxes outside are spilling over, heavy with big blowsy roses, petals soft and faded at the edges, their centres a vibrant rancid pink that makes his head spin.

It’s almost midnight; a year to the day. Neil bought sparkling wine and the birthday cake Billy liked when he was seven.

A dish clinks in the soapy water, the foam itching at his wrists. 

“It’s ok,” he says dully, Susan’s reflection beside his like a smear of pale oil paint, watching, fretful. “I don’t do that anymore.”

She watches him a moment longer anyway. And when he leaves he hears her putting the detergent away in the cupboard.

:::

Heather’s house. Fran’s house. Gary Kenwick’s house. The house at the end of Dearborn and the house on Randolph Lane. The house with the rose garden and the house with the deadbolt and the house with the fridge-door left open and the milk all over the floor and the house with boys’ rooms and their dinosaur nightlights.

These are places he has been.

:::

If he goes to the steelworks and goes down and down and lies on the concrete and breathes in the dust and closes his eyes he can dream again but it’s not the same.

:::

“I don’t want it to have my mom.”

“It needs her, for its work.”

“I want to go home.”

“We are.”

He is. They are.

“Why did you lie?”

He doesn’t answer. Breathe in, breathe out. He has so many heartbeats now. So many names.

“Billy.”

Billy?

“You said it would be over soon.”

:::

He likes Robin. She works at the video store with Harrington and she doesn’t remember Billy from either of his befores. She should be sick of seeing him, day in and day out, but she likes his jokes and the nasty smile he shares with her when Harrington does something stupid.

“He told Keith The Karate Kid is the only movie that ever made him cry.”

“He told me his favorite actor is the Terminator.”

“He thinks Gremlins is ‘a classic’.”

“He thinks Gremlins is a documentary.”

“Hey,” Harrington says. “Do you two assholes want to help me here, or am I supposed to unpack these all myself?” He waves an exacto knife around at the jumble of half opened boxes and scattered packing peanuts.

Billy smirks. “Who let you have a sharp tool?”

“It’s got a safety on it,” Robin says.

:::

Every now and then they get high out the back of the store. It’s Harrington’s weed. Sometimes it’s the pills the government doctors give Billy each month to stop him from turning back into jelly. Robin and Harrington are fearless. They don’t care what kind of trip they have so long as they’re together.

“I don’t feel anything,” Harrington says, pacing, running his hands through his hair over and over with neurotic focus.

Robin gives one of her honking laughs. “Oh, I think you’re feeling it Stevie.”

“I don’t feel good,” he whines.

“You feel fine. You feel fine,” Robin insists. She’s doing something to her shoelaces, tying them into some intricate knot of vital importance. Billy laughs. It’s only fair. They got him so high last week he let them paint his nails.

“Does this feel weird to you?” Harrington asks, suddenly in front of him, sucking up all his attention, shoving his head under Billy’s hand. Billy’s fingers slide through: muscle memory. It’s softer than he remembers, and lighter too. Blond, in parts.

So, the Mindflayer didn’t get his highlights right.

Harrington calms down under his stroking hand. When Billy finally looks up Robin’s finished her task, shoelaces of both shoes all knotted together, and she’s staring at him, at both of them, surprised and then sad. 

:::

“Does your family know you’re out here?” Harrington asks, tugging the bottle out of his hands and hopping up onto the bonnet beside him. “Fuck.” He shivers. “It’s fucking freezing out here. Aren’t you cold?” 

Billy shrugs. He’s drunk. He woke up thinking about rats. Rats don’t get cold. They can probably get drunk.

Harrington is wearing a jacket pulled tight over a thin t-shirt, warm all over from sleep. He looks great. He looks too good to be true. Billy watches him take a slug of the bourbon and give it back to Billy so he can blow on his hands. 

“So…” Harrington says, after a nice enough silence. “What are we doing here?”

“Watching fireworks,” Billy says.

He can feel Harrington’s eyes on him. Confused. Pitying maybe. From up here the forest looks like a toy forest and the town looks like a toy town with tiny fairy lights. The sky is cloudless, near and black. It’s empty tonight. It’s empty every night. There’re never any stars and there’re never any fireworks.

“Well, okay then,” Harrington says. “How’d you score such good seats?”

That makes him smile. “I dreamt them,” he says. 

“Well, thanks for the invite then.”

“I dreamt you too.”

Harrington laughs. “Okay. Well, thanks for the hair, and the big dick.”

“You always wanted me to kiss you.” 

Silence.

“Oh.”

Oh.

“Were we…”

“Yes,” Billy says.

:::

A party: a basement: a couch.

“Did it hurt you?”

“No,” Billy says.

Harrington is drunk, sloe-eyed. He has lipstick on him, just a smudge, so cruel, in the corner of his mouth, like a sore that Billy wants to scrub and scrub and scrub at. He drinks his beer instead and pretends he can taste it.

“Did it lie to you?”

“No.”

“What did it offer you?” he asks. He knows. He knows.

Billy can’t answer that. He’s not here. He’s not real. He’s a wave of tar and spare parts under thin skin.

“What did it offer you, Billy? Anything? Everything?”

Kingdoms, he wants to say. Worlds and stars and kingdoms. A road that only goes where his heart wishes it could live. 

“Less,” he says.

He looks at Harrington, at the perfect inimitable color of his eyes.

Enough.

:::

[reggiebhuggins]

Faking it- part two

As usual, It’s Patrick Hockstetter and his big fucking mouth that lands you in trouble. Well. Technically he is the reason you aren’t grounded forever. But still in fucking trouble.

You’re only half listening as they rant at you. They had specific ideas of how you should date and what you should do while dating and being “All over a half-naked boy, without so much as a first date!” was not one of them. It didn’t seem to matter that you were both hurt, it was if your parents couldn’t even see it. When you pointed it out, they just glossed over it.

You and Henry are both quiet, not saying anything. You are sat side by side on the two-seater couch in your living room. Close enough your legs are touching. Neither of you moves, staring at the wall over your parent's heads. The warmth of his leg against yours is slightly comforting, you think to yourself. Your father is mid-rant when Patrick opens his mouth “They are dating, though” All eyes snap to him, and he smirks over at you as he continues “Henry’s dad is a dick. He was scared she’d get hurt.” 

It was no secret to the town that Butch Bowers was an asshole. He harassed townsfolk, ignored complaints of the public and often people came out of custody a whole lot worse off than when they went in. It was no secret that Henry Bowers came to school with bruises or broken bones. It was never confirmed if his father was the one who did it. But the implication was there. 

You could feel the tension building in Henry as you sat next to him, his spine straightening and fists clenching. But as you glanced at your mom you could just see her fierce expression melting, changing into a concerned look. Your dad’s posture drained, and he looked at the both of you. So instead of letting Henry get angry, you put your hand over his. His head snapped to the side to look at you, and his mouth opened to say something you were sure would be offensive, but his fist had relaxed, so you slipped your fingers in between his and squeezed for a moment. He looked confused, but the fight drained out of him. He held your hand tighter.

You start to talk, eyes never leaving his “He comes here to get patched up sometimes. Sleeps the night, on the floor when he can’t go home.” You hoped he caught on. You were smart enough to see that Patrick, for whatever his motive was was throwing both of you a bone. A way out. If you could come to an agreement . . . Maybe this could work. He could get a place to stay, and if he caught on like you thought he would . . .

“And what, pray tell, do you get out of it, Y/n. What does Henry Bowers do for you” Your father asks, forcing you to look away from Henry. Your father's eyes are angry, but not furious so that’s a start. 

“I sneak into her Ballet shows sometimes,” Henry says suddenly and shit you didn’t even know he knew you did ballet. “I make sure the Bitc- Uh girls at school don’t put gum in her hair. Help her brush it out when they mess with it. Keep people away from her.”

You were right. He gets a place to crash, food in his belly when his own father won't provide it and you get protection. Protection from the bitches at school who had indeed been putting gum in your hair, and taking scissors to it. More recently they’d threatened to actually hurt you with the blades. This could work.

Well if that made your mother positively melt, you father almost teared up “Alright.” he sighs “Alright, I get it. But the sneaking around doesn’t happen anymore. If this . . relationship is to continue, you will be open about it. And that includes your bedroom door, Y/n!” Peels on laughter leave Patrick, who all the while is looking around like he thinks he might need some popcorn. 

You flush, and on instinct, your hand tightens around Henry’s. He squeezes back. You send a glare at your fake boyfriends best friend and shoot your mother a confused look when she coos. Henry doesn’t stop glaring at Patrick at all. Ah. Your father clears his throat and you nod “Yes, Dad.”

“Good.” is all he says, glancing at you for one more moment before he leaves the room. 

~~

As soon as your parents leave the room the three other boys converge, and you slip your hand out of Henry’s. You miss the warmth, but that’s what he would have done anyway, so you pay no mind to that.

Instead, you straighten your back, fixing your posture and say “What the actual fuck.” 

That gets some laughs out of everyone in the room, even Henry, but you can’t stop your hands from shaking where they sit in your lap. 

“So I guess that means you’re with us, huh, y/n” Vic says, giving you what you assume is meant to be a menacing grin. 

Still, you sigh and reply “Well, it means I’m with Henry at least.” Resolutely not looking at the boy still sitting next to you

Patrick is being strangely silent from where he is standing, and you look up at him to see him wandering the room, looking at the family photos. you can’t decide if it’s creepy or normal.

“We need to . . . talk about that.” Henry says, breaking his silence. For a minute you begin to panic, thinking that this is it, but he continues “If this is gonna work, I’m going to need to know who I’m-“ there is a pause as he seems to visibly struggle with the next part of the sentence, but luckily, as ever his best friend steps in to finish it for him

“Protecting her from?” Patrick isn’t even focused on the little group, instead flipping through a book that had been sitting on the side table.

“That” Henry finishes, his teeth gritted. 

You flush. Oh. You nod, and smooth over the skirt you’re wearing “Maybe we should take this away from here. They could hear us.” You say, pointing at the door both your parents exited the room via. 

There was a general consensus, but when you all piled outside no one really knew what they were doing. Patrick headed for the woods, and you spoke, the harshest you had ever sounded “No.”

He turned, smirking and saying “What are you scared?” 

You blink, and think for a moment if he is actually right in the head and say “Yes, you fucking idiot! After this afternoon I am not going back there. Whatever that was only left because my dad shot his gun and I will not risk my life because you are crazy. No. No way.”

He turns a little more, glancing over your shoulder to where you assume the others are still standing, presumably for back up. 

But no one says anything for a moment, until “I don’t know man, If we are supposed to look after her and she’s scared maybe we shouldn’t” comes from Belch’s mouth. You turn a little in surprise, but you notice he is pale, and looking at the woods in fear. ah. 

“We don’t have to do shit.” Patrick said, laughing “That’s all on Henry” 

Vic rolls his eyes “Yeah, -cause if we mess with her that won’t look bad at all. Her folks will go apeshit, and we just spent an hour sorting this out.  If Henry has to protect her . . . we all do.”

“No woods.” You say again. 

“I’ve got the car.” Is all Belch says before you all start to head over to where he apparently parked the thing? 

“Only got four seats though.” Henry speaks again 

“We could just put Put pat in the trunk again.” Vic pipes up, with a grin.

You laugh, a little hesitant but . . . if you’re under their protection “Or just leave him here” you say 

Henry grins over at you, a leer really, and says “Or you can sit on my lap.” You flush a bright red and get quiet. 

When you reach the car, Vic climbs in the back, and Patrick with him, after Henry gives him a rough shove towards the car. Belch sits up front, obviously and Henry gets in. You just sigh and sit on his lap. You got yourself into this after all. 

The car ride is silent for a little bit, and you sit with Henry’s hands on your thighs for a while before you say “It’s Greta Keene, mostly. Her little flock does it too, but it’s mostly on her orders.” 

No one talks for a moment, no one seems to know how to act around on another now, but Henry eventually says “Consider it taken care of.” You nod, relaxing a little. 

“The spare key to the house is under the matt. Just let yourself in but put it back after.” You continue, ignoring the presence of everyone but him. 

“To do what?” It’s said with a leer, but you know he is being serious. He’s asking permission. 

“Raid the fridge, when you need it. Not the beer or more than you need or my dad will shoot your ass. Shower, towels are in the cupboard next to the door. Sleep. Oh, I’ll clear a draw out for you if you need for clothes. If your clothes land in hamper my mom will wash them.” You say, thinking of all the things he is able to do. 

“If I don’t need to do any of those things?” He asks and you catch his drift. What if he just can’t go home. 

“Do homework I guess” you tease and he pinches your side. You squirm but he doesn’t sound angry when he replies with 

“M’kay. Well, I’ll have a chat with the bitches, see what I can do there. You can sit with us when we are there for lunch. Come out with us and shit. “ 

It’s actually nice you think to yourself, talking like this without anyone else butting in. 

Of course, that’s when Vic pipes up “Uh, I hate to interrupt, but are you selling it at school? Cause don’t your parents visit there a lot? Or your aunt or somethin?” 

You pale “Shit, yeah. My mom's sister. Twins. She’s the administrator. If they catch on to this we are fucked.” 

Henry tenses a little, and one of your hands moves to rest over his again, and he says shocking you most “Duh. Means we gotta hold hands and kiss and shit. Walk you to class, go on dates and stuff.”

You relax into him again, not even realizing you had tensed once more “Right, okay. ” 

Henry takes a deep breath and says “Shouldn’t I call you somethin? Like couples are meant too?” 

You pause and shrug “If you want too. What would you call me though?” 

He seems to think about it for a while 

“Baby?” Belch suggests but you shake your head

“Sugar?” 

“Fuck no.” Henry says, making everyone laugh

“Doll? Sweet cheeks? My Girl?”

You hum “Any of those would work”

Henry nods, and despite you sitting on his lap, it’s all very business-like. 

“Alright Doll, you got it.” 

You flush and squirm in place, making Henry pinch you again

“Well, I’m definitely bringing popcorn for Monday.” Patrick pipes up from the back seat. 

You groan. 

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Sometimes he really hated his injury. Nowadays, he’d grown accustomed enough to it that it didn’t bother him but sometimes- oh sometimes the littlest thing would really drive it home.

Alex fiddled with his phone as he bounced his left knee. He wanted to pace. He ached to pace. He was restless and he anxious. But it had been a very long couple of days and there was no way his leg would support that kind of pressure. His leg bounced faster and he buried his head in his hands with a groan.

Alex wasn’t even sure that Michael was going to come and yet he was losing his mind waiting for him. He checked his phone again. No new messages. Alex had sent Michael a text asking him to come over hours ago and the other man still hadn’t replied. He tossed the offending device onto the table, ignoring it when it slid off onto the floor. He’d deal with it later.

Maybe.

The distant rumble of an old truck reached Alex’s ears moments before headlights lit up the kitchen. Alex shoved himself to a standing position and grabbed both of his crutches. Within moments he was on his front porch, waiting for Michael to pull up.

The truck stuttered to a stop next to Alex’s own car on the other side of the house and the engine shut off. Alex listened carefully but the sound of footsteps never came.

He stood there on the porch for at least five minutes, maybe longer, before his hands started to ache. Alex looked down at his body with a glare but, after standing for another few minutes, conceded to it. Carefully, he eased himself down onto the top stair and laid the crutches down next to him.

Alex was sitting and rubbing at his hands when he finally heard the truck door open and Michael’s boots hit the dirt. Moments later the man himself rounded the corner and stumbled to a stop, clearly not expecting Alex to be waiting for him.

Where moments ago Michael’s face had been open and exhausted, now it was carefully blank. He took a few more steps forward until they were close enough to speak without raising their voices but too far to touch. Alex hated that extra bit of distance but he didn’t blame Michael for it.

The last few days, hell the last few weeks, had been hard. Alex had been read in on the alien situation in Roswell in more than one way. First, it had been the Air Force, somehow convinced by his father’s cockamamie research to reopen Project Shepherd with a new Manes at the helm. Not a day later, after talking to Kyle, he’d been in Max Evans’ living room listening to the man plead for his help to keep himself, his sister, and Michael safe. Because they were aliens. They were the aliens. The aliens that Alex had just been ordered to locate and apprehend.

That conversation had required a lot of subsequent alcohol.

Alex had only had a few days to process everything. Part of that included no less than two screaming matches with Michael in which they brought up all of the lies and the hurts they had done to each over the years.

That had required more alcohol. Both to dull the hurts Michael inflicted and to numb the guilt for the ones he’d caused.

And then it all went to hell. Looking back, Alex had to marvel at how wonderfully apeshit everything went and in such a remarkably short time. It truly was impressive. Or it would be if it hadn’t spelled ruin for everything he’d worked towards for the last decade. In such a short amount of time, he’d blown up his life, gotten himself discharged, and was officially on the government’s radar as a potential terrorist threat.

But Michael and his family were safe. So he couldn’t really bring himself to regret any of it.

Except now he had to figure out how to rebuild his life. How to start over, without the military. Alex ran a hand through his hair as he stared across the short expanse at Michael. It really hadn’t taken more than half a second’ thought to decide where he wanted to start. The second he’d left the base after receiving his discharge papers, he’d texted Michael, asking for a chance to talk. To explain. And now here he was. Growing more impatient by the second.

Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head. Michael cocked an eyebrow at him.

“How did we get here?” He asked, almost surprised when the words actually came out of his mouth.

Michael shrugged but didn’t answer. “What did you want, Alex?” He asked after a beat.

Alex just looked at him before taking a deep breath. People had been telling him for years that he was brave but he’d never felt like it. Now, he was wishing with everything he had that they were right. Because he needed to be brave right now.

“I’m not brave.” He started. Michael opened his mouth but Alex held up a hand. “Please let me get this out.”

Michael promptly shut his mouth and waved a hand for him to carry on.

“I’m not brave.” Alex repeated. “People tell me I am because I went to war or whatever but the truth is that I am terrified. Every second of every day. I’ve been scared for so long that I almost don’t remember what it feels like not to be. Scared of my dad mostly. But other things, too. I mean, I never wanted to join the military - I wanted to make music! And then I got sent to war. Three fucking times.” Alex shook his head and let out a humorless laugh. “Even when I was in Iraq and I was terrified that someone was going to shoot me or I’d step on an IED or something, part of me was thankful that I was a continent away from my dad. He’s like this specter that haunts me. I’m almost thirty years old and I’m still scared of my dad. How pathetic is that?” He scoffed. “How brave am I, huh?”

He paused and looked up into Michael’s eyes. While he’d been talking Michael had closed the gap some. Still not in touching distance but closer. He was clearly confused by the topic at hand but he didn’t say anything. He just let Alex speak, something he was infinitely grateful for.

“I was officially discharged from the Air Force today.” Alex admitted. Guilt spread across Michael’s face but Alex shook his head and cut off any apology he might have. “I’m okay with it. Really, I am. Because you’re safe. You and Max and Isobel, you three are safe. They don’t have anything on you. I made sure of that.” He let out a small smile. “And I made sure that my dad lost every shred of research my family had accumulated over the last 70 years. Anyone wanting to look into you three is going to have to start from scratch.”

He rubbed his hands on his knees and really wished he could stand up. He hated sitting down for this, it felt wrong. “So today, my career ended and I hopefully obliterated any further connection between me and my father and now I have to start over. Figure out who I am now without the Air Force. And I have no idea who that is. I don’t even know where to start looking, honestly. But I do know one thing, Michael. And that’s you.” He could feel himself tearing up but he kept his voice firm. “I walked out of my CO’s office today, and all I could think about was how there wasn’t anything stopping me anymore. Nothing except myself. And I know I have said and done some terrible things, especially recently, but I don’t want to stand in my own way anymore Michael. I need to figure out who I am again and the only thing I know about myself is how much I love you.”

Michael’s eyes glistened in the moonlight, unshed tears brimming over. He looked away when Alex fixed his gaze on him.

“I said earlier that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to not be scared. The reason I didn’t completely forget? Because of you. Because when I am with you, I don’t have to be afraid.” He laughed helplessly. “It doesn’t make any sense, honestly. Because the single most terrifying moment of my life was my dad catching us. I would’ve thought after that that being with you would terrify me. That I’d spend every moment together scared of what might happen but I don’t. I never did.” He shook his head and wiped his eyes. “You make me feel safe, Michael.”

He didn’t say anything for a long while after that. There was more he had planned on saying but it was like he’d run out of words to say it with. After a moment, Michael eased himself down on the stair next to him and rested his arms on his knees.

“We’re a fucking mess,” Michael said softly. Alex barked out a surprised laugh, Michael joining him after a moment. Alex wasn’t even sure what was so funny but it took him a moment to get himself under control.

When their laughter finally faded, Michael reached out and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulder and pulled him in to his side. Alex went willingly, tucking himself under Michael’s arm and resting his head on his shoulder.

“If you don’t know by now that I’ve been in love with you since we were 17 then I’ve been doing something wrong,” Michael whispered. Alex only nodded. He knew. He’d always known. Michael’s feelings for him had been the one part of their whole thing that he’d never worried about. “I know we’ve both said things, especially lately, but I don’t care. I never want you to be scared again Alex. But you’re wrong about one thing.”

Alex hummed in question.

“You really are the bravest man I know.” Alex rolled his eyes, not that Michael could see them. “You think you aren’t brave because you’re always scared? That’s when you’re bravest. Fuck, Alex, I have seen you go toe to toe with your dad, stare him dad and make him break first. And I know how much he scares you. To be able to do that despite the fear? That’s the fucking definition of bravery.”

Alex turned his face to hide his blush in Michael’s shirt but didn’t reply. He felt Michael press a kiss into his hair but didn’t look up.

“If you need help figuring out who you are now, I’m more than happy to help. But I don’t think it’s going to take much.” Now Alex looked up. “You’re Alex fucking Manes. You’re the guy who saw a kid living out of his truck and offered him a safe place to go because sometimes people just do nice things for each other. You’re the guy who has never once cowered from a fight, even when he was scared shitless. You’re the guy who doesn’t take shit from anyone, not even his friends. You hold people around you to a higher standard because you know they can rise to it. You love crappy movies and ‘90s punk rock.” Michael leaned down and kissed him gently, Alex’s hand rising to cup his cheek of its own accord. “You’re the man I love. And the man who saved my life and my family’s lives without a second thought to the consequences to himself. So what if you have to start over? You’ll figure it out. And I’ll be there every step of the way.” He finished softly.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alex smiled and slid his hand to the back of Michael’s head, fingers tangling in his curls as he dragged him down for another kiss.

[booksbroadwaybbc]

Don't know what to do with myself. via /r/selfimprovement

Don't know what to do with myself.

Hi. I'm 21 and still in community college, but I did get my provisional admission to this university I wanted to transfer to. I work as a runner at Din Tai Fung and I'm supposed to make bank, but I don't really know yet because I'm a new employee. Headtitle question at the bottom

I think I've lived an okay-ish life, kind of. story time, skip to the end if you dont wanna read it I come from a Korean family, can't say I remember much of my childhood except mostly being beaten and yelled at. There were good times too, but they usually ended prettily shittily. Moved around a bunch, went to a lot of schools. I've dealt with a lot of abusive stuff from both parents, but I'm not going to talk about my mom because things have gotten better and she's still here for me(?). For some extreme stuff- my dad broke my brothers toes in elementary school. In my senior year, he threatened me at knifepoint and forced it into my hands and told me to stab my brother or he would stab me. Beatings from him were pretty bad, and it's not just belts and sticks bad. I played co-ed baseball in 5th grade, so bam, there was that too. He liked to throw chairs and literally flip tables when he was angry (hes a private construction worker, so he's pretty strong). Broke a lot of his phones throwing them at us, the wall, the floor, whatever. Ive had a lot of problems with my social affairs in highschool- anxiety, being cold, being short tempered, aggressive, violent, sharp tongued. I started warming up in senior year because of this girl I dated, which was a pretty big deal because gays are not allowed in this household. And well, im bi but its the same thing to them. Can't say that went too well, because my brother found out and blackmailed me in the situation we were living in. But who cares, because siblings hate each other right? Anyways, broke up with her, broke her heart, treated her poorly and whatever two years later we made up and was able to be friends again. Back to dad- he was usually never around for things like elementary grad, middle school grad, and highschool- my mom made him come, but he sure didn't seem happy about it. In highschool, he only laid down on his phone playi ng his shitty phone games. Doesnt talk to me, doesnt talk to my brother, doesnt talk to my mom. His routine: wake up, go to work, come home, phone games, eat, phone games, sleep. If you try to talk to him, he ignores you. If you press it, he'll give you some boring answer like "go away already".

Anywho, that abusive fuck was caught cheating. Had an affair with a client's sister. Sold the house we lived in, mom moved to Newark, him to San Leandro. Mom didnt want to deal with me, so I got the boot and lived wjth acquaintances in Hayward. Couldnt afford it, so mom told me to move to San Leandro with him. I moved in with my best friend helping me and we saw the evidence. Bambam, hello lady clothing and shit. I went apeshit nuts and he tried to convince me, then threatened that I would be in big trouble if i said anything. (Parents were separated but not divorced). Alright, ill keep my big mouth shut.

I worked for his "girlfriend" at her cafe in Berkeley. Why? Well, it was easy money and i needed it to keep up with my shitty coping habits- partying and party favors, mostly e. You dont have to deal with stress if youre always out partying.

Anywho, fast forward, skip a lot of details. Mom gets a phone call one day from mutual acquaintance saying dad is sick and asks her to bring him some food. Alright. So she does because she still cares, and finds out the truth. Calls me and demands me to come right now and unlock the door- note that this is a 40 minute drive. By the time i get there, theres hella police and a window is broken and theres hella shit going on. Things settled down but being my immature ass i scream at my parents for both being immature, and they shouldve just cut things clean. I yell at my dad for being a fuckhead and cheating, you didnt raise a liar but you are one. I yell at my mom for being irresponsible and breaking things. Police grabs my shoulder but i swipe it off and bam. Im on the floor, face into concrete, chipped teeth and i cant even see where my dog is. Tbh i was more worried that he ran off because he was still a puppy and i was holding him during this whole ordeal. My glasses got knocked off my face when those two officers fucking bodyslammed me into the ground. I'm 5ft4, i weighed like 130 at this time but im just a legit smol asian girl.

What happened next? Well yknow, i got arrested and sent to jail for assaulting a police officer, nbd. Sat there for a few hours, listening to some psycho making weird noises. Finally get some call saying that my mom was waiting for me, and she bailed me out. She was crying a lot and told me that my dad didnt even bat an eye as they took me away, that he smiled and tried to fix his goddamn broken window. I believe it too, because I saw that shitty smirk on his face when i got to the scene. My mom has a bit of an uncontrollable temper so she looks psycho when the other person was the wack one. This was in January 2017.

Skip forward to the next police thing. June 2017. My mom demands that i pack all my shit and move back, and she wants to go with me. I plead no, but what am i gonna do against her? Alright, we drive and she starts saying stuff about lying and calls the bitch a slut and homewrecker and stuff, dad gets up to stand inbetween and stuff. Tells her to move than basically shoves her across the living room towards the door. **insert hysteria and bam again, screaming and each other, his hands on her, me trying to squeeze my body in between them and get his hands off of her. Doesnt really work cos he turns on me, hits me away and goes back to beat her. My screaming doesnt really help either, but i try what I can to claw his arms off of her. Nooooo, bad idea, but better me than her. He grabs me and my head is locked into his elbow so I bite down, arm. Baaaad idea again, but its in self defense imo. Im just trying to help my mom. He p much beats me up into a pulp her, grabs my shirt all the way up and yikes thats embarassing. The struggle goes on and eventually its calm again because slutface is like "honey staph"- note: only words and no actions to get close, buuuut, it works. Me and mom move to my room and start removing all my weebshit from the walls. Mom is muttering and saying a bunch of bs for him to hear and he storms into the room because hes fucking triggered and start the violence again. Oh but this is where i do the fun thing- i lunge myself at him so im like on top of him but holy shit, he legit pulls me off of him and throws me against the wall cabinets, and two hand chokes me, with his knees on my chest. Mom starts screaming at him, claws his face and soon the police are here and shit. Bitch called the police, and this is where it gets more fucked up. I legally live here, its on my license. I came back to move out, so its okay for me to be here, because i came to pack my stuff and take whats mine. So why exactly did the police not believe me? Why did my mom get arrested for putting dumb scratches on his face when he beat us, with pictures - that day- to prove that he inflicted more wounds on us. We were just defending ourselves. He put his hands on us first. Anyways, that starts my worries cos im like. Im 20, but idk what to do. How do i find money to bail my mom out? How do i even do that in the first place? But i managed.

Anywho skip forward, jackass is no longer in my life, tho i have to deal with him through my brother from time to time. Parents officially divorced Feb 2018. I've lived with my mom, she bought a cafeteria for a little bit so I worked there. Things were really hard because my mom had a lot of pent up anger that she would take out on me. My brother moved out because he went to university so he didnt really have to deal with much. Im also the older child, so bam. Anyways, we fought a lot. A LOT LOT. Like apeshit crazylot. I took a lot of beatings. It was like the weekend before Christmas of 2017 where a took a huge beating and ran away from my problems by going to my now-ex's house. He offered me to move in with him and his family, so I did. I had the choice of going back to my moms lifestyle and attempt to make up, or trying to live a different life. I lived with him from like Christmas to March 2018. We started having a lot of problems because he regret inviting me, he wasnt ready to give up his personal space and I was done babysitting someone who was older than me. Doing his laundry, doing his dishes, cleaning his room. I was done with being bored, never going out, being ignored while he did the same thing my dad did. Sit on his phone and not speak a word. Yeah, there were good times too, but they seem so fleeting when it seeps in with your own personal trauma of being ignored. Btw- when i moved to his place, my brother moved back home to fill the gap, but my brother is better with dealing with my mom and she doesnt blow up at him.

After I moved back, it was better. Yeah, shit went down sometimes but i guess overall it was better? My mom cried a lot. I would hear her talk on the phone with her family members in Korea and cry about how she was tired of everything and didn't want to do it anymore. I know exactly how that feels. Well, in the later months of 2018, we got along better and havent really had those blowups. I tried my best to stay home more instead of going out at night because she hated it. I tried to be nicer to her and more compromising. She's in Korea rn and things suck. During the whole parents thing, it sucks to feel like your parents are passing you to each other likea toy they dont want. It sucks to not really feel familial love growing up, where mom is just doing things because shes supposed to and dad just flat out pretends you dont exist. It sucks that it takes two years of partying, drugs and cons to find out

Submitted October 31, 2018 at 10:33AM by xfirelily via reddit https://ift.tt/2CRsVBn