#this is about my sims harringrove | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shieldofiron · 1 year ago

Text

You Never Can Tell

This fic is inspired by my Sims Harringrove family, and is a celebration of my 1000 follower count (now it’s more than 1000 but shh act like I had this ready on time.) Omegaverse with Mpreg (With a Twist), Omega Steve and Alpha Billy, SUPER FLUFFY. Also on AO3 here.

Steve didn’t believe he was really going to do this. As if to punctuate the thought, the baby kicked in his stomach, and he instinctively covered his stomach with his hand.

Hargrove couldn’t meet his eye, silently adding a new pillowcase to one of his pillows, but his eyes darted to Steve’s stomach. He’d been trying not to stare, which Steve appreciated, but some things couldn’t be helped.

“Thanks for doing this,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice steady while the baby kicked the shit out of his ribs.

“Don’t mention it,” Billy said gruffly, tossing the pillow onto the thin mattress, “Least I can do.”

That wasn’t true. Billy could do a lot less. Steve had been couchsurfing for weeks, trying to find something more permanent than being hidden in Nancy’s basement, subsisting on pop tarts and whatever Jonathan could spare from dinner.

The situation with his parents had been slowly deteriorating ever since he had to tell them that the alpha was attending university and Steve didn’t want to tell her. Besides, he didn’t really have any attachment to her, and Steve wasn’t looking to turn this into some sort of shotgun mating.

When he’d told his father that he wasn’t interested in repeating his parent’s mistakes and mating the first person that had knocked him up, everything had gone from bad to worse.

Steve thought they would get over it. They thought he would eventually freak and give the baby away or get an abortion. And before it got really bad and they damaged everything forever, Steve had decided to move out.

It wasn’t like they really knew him. At least not all the parts of him. They were practically ghosts to each other, rattling around in a big house, not a family at all. They didn’t understand why Steve wanted this, even if it was hard. They didn’t understand wanting a family, or they wouldn’t have made just a facsimile of one.

And they weren’t interested in having an unmated pregnant omega around, even if he was their son. So it was a surprise that Billy Hargrove was interested. At all.

The alpha had changed since the whole disaster at Starcourt. They all had. But Billy Hargrove going from polite nods in the grocery store to offering to room with Steve and giving up his bedroom for a baby… that hadn’t been on Steve’s bingo card for this year at all.

The next best offer was staying at the Byers, but between El and Hopper, the house was getting fuller by the minute.

Billy plucked Steve’s pregnancy pillow from his arms and laid it out over the center of the bed, “There. It’ll be just like a sleepover.”

“Yeah. Every night.”

Billy laughed, “Just the three of us.”

Steve’s hand fell back to his stomach instinctively.

“You, me, and old reliable here,” Billy patted the pillow, “Unless she has a name.”

Steve huffed out a little laugh, “Not yet.”

Billy eyed the fat pink thing, “Looks like a Dorothy to me.”

Steve smiled, “I think she’s more of a Blanche.”

Billy grinned, sliding a hand along the pillow, “Oh really? My kinda girl.”

“You’re really cool with this? I can sleep on the floor until I get a cot.”

Billy’s scent flared with displeasure, igniting the room quickly and then dissipating, “I’m not making a pregnant dude sleep on the fucking floor. No way.”

Steve was too afraid to ask if Billy would sleep on the floor. He thought Max had mentioned something about a bad back, the doctors having to fuse or nail the lower vertebrae of Billy’s spine.

And besides… it wasn’t like Billy was going to make a move on him or something. There had been a time in high school where Steve had thought maybe, but…

In the dark, trying to get comfortable around his pregnancy pillow, with Billy pumping out calming alpha hormones, that time seemed all too real.

Not that Steve was looking for an alpha. He had a lot on his mind. He’d gone from spending his pitiful paychecks liberally, on treats for Dustin and expensive hair products, to counting his pennies to buy a crib and make up his half of the rent. In the dark, Steve tugged on his too long hair where it curled over his collar.

“Does the baby have a name yet?” Billy’s voice wasn’t quite a whisper, but it wasn’t nearly near his normal speaking voice. The sound skittered across Steve’s skin, painting his cheeks pink.

Steve tugged the pregnancy pillow closer, trying to arrange it so that his stomach was comfortable. This was weird, right? Or is the weirdest part that he didn’t feel all that weird about it.

“I was thinking if it’s a girl… I like Tessa,” Steve mumbled, “And if it’s a boy, maybe like, Ben? Or Benjamin. I dunno.”

“Sounds nice,” Billy did that half whisper thing again.

————————��——

Steve had to delay getting the cot because Billy found a deal on a crib, they just had to drive to the next town to get it. Then Billy pointed out that a cot probably wouldn’t be good for Steve’s back and besides, they had a good thing going with Dorothy/Blanche between them. And didn’t it make the most sense for Steve to get stuff for the baby first?

Steve had to admit, he was getting more and more used to this one bed thing. They’d officially moved it into the dining room after Billy built the crib in one afternoon while Steve was at work.

And it got less awkward as time went on. Both the bed thing and the roommate thing. They angled the tv so that they could see it from the bed, and went to sleep watching old movies that Steve brought back from Family Video and reruns and shit, curled around the pregnancy pillow. Steve spent a lot of time readying for the baby in their new room, tucking newly cleaned onesies into the thrift store dresser that they’d found and Billy had kindly painted for him.

Billy was always making too much for dinner because he was used to cooking for his whole family, so there was often more than enough for Steve, and anyone else who came over too. Even Dustin had grudgingly admitted that Billy was a good cook after Billy had made the whole party spaghetti. He’d made fast friends with Robin, and sometimes Steve would go to bed while they chattered away for hours in the kitchen, only waking when Billy slid in next to him, murmuring quiet goodnights.

Some people still found it weird.

“When is he gonna get his own bed?” Max was trying to be quiet, but apparently that didn’t run in either hers or Billy’s family.

Steve balanced the groceries on his hip and shut the door gently behind him, leaning back and stretching out his sore back.

“I dunno, Max, it’s fine,” Billy said back, the alpha’s voice pitched low like a warning growl.

“I just think-”

“Max, lay off, okay,” Billy huffed. “It’s Harrington’s decision. And we haven’t had any problems yet.”

“But it’s not fair, I can’t believe you’re letting it happen.”

Steve frowned, not sure what she meant by that.

“It’ll be fine, Max, you’ll see.”

Max had stalked out, making an indignant noise when she saw Steve at the door, grabbing her skateboard with a huff, and walking out of the apartment.

“What was that all about?” Steve crept around to the kitchen.

“Ah, nothing. She’s just sixteen,” Billy was leaning over a large pot on the stove. “You know. Sixteen year old girl shit.”

Steve didn’t know. He had no idea, actually.

“How does stew sound? I thought Max was staying, so I made too much,” Billy’s shoulders were tensed close to his body.

“Billy,” Steve sighed, resting a hand on his belly, “Maybe… maybe we should revisit me getting the twin bed for the nursery. Besides, I’m getting up like ten times a night to pee. That can’t be good for your sleep…”

“If that’s what you want,” Billy shrugged, “Taste this, let me know if it needs salt.”

Steve carefully lowered himself down into one of the dining tables and obligingly opened his mouth. Billy brought over the wooden spoon laden with stew, that he blew on carefully before feeding it to Steve.

“‘S fine,” Steve mumbled, though he couldn’t say he’d really tasted it.

Billy really was a great alpha, took care of Steve so much. He was close to ending his apprenticeship at the mechanic’s shop, and he was making good money. He wasn’t blowing it on stuff either. He was responsible, and caring.

And Steve was here, sleeping in his bed, taking up the space that would eventually be taken by Billy’s true omega. It couldn’t have been easy for Billy, it would be hard to find someone to date with a random pregnant guy in his bed, eating all his leftovers.

Billy turned to his stew, dancing a little to the old Chuck Berry song on the radio. He lowered the heat and turned the radio up, spinning around and pulling Steve to his feet.

“Billy, I think-”

Billy wrapped one warm arm around Steve’s waist, taking the other hand in his.

“Just dance, pretty boy.”

It was a little awkward with Steve’s belly between them, but Billy spun him around, laughing a little, like whatever argument he’d had with Max didn’t matter. He pulled Steve close, filling Steve’s senses with his cool salty ocean scent and a hint of cigarettes and motor oil that made him a little dizzy. But it wasn’t the pregnancy. No, Steve couldn’t lie to himself that much.

That night in bed, Steve couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable. Billy’s bed really was heavenly, soft and plush. He’d admitted to Steve once that this was the first thing he splurged on when he moved out on his own with his money from Starcourt. Not only because he needed it for his back, but because his dad had apparently piled all of Billy’s shit on his old mattress and lit it on fire before skipping town.

And that was a part of the problem. What was Steve meant to do with all of the stuff he knew about Billy? All the small things that Steve had stored up, like a squirrel for the winter. It was all instinct, not something he meant to do. But somehow he started to think of Billy as…

Steve rolled over and watched Billy. His mouth was open, tongue lolling out slightly and drool dripping from his mouth down his cheek into his pillow and rumpled curls.

Maybe Billy wasn’t always the kindest of alphas. He was prone to black moods, withdrawing, sulking in the shower or curling up for long naps. His stories about his childhood made the reason evident enough, but still. He was crass, often loud and made more dirty jokes than a retired sailor.

He apparently didn’t know how to portion a meal, though Steve had a sneaking suspicion that he did. He just wanted Steve to be fed. He built a crib for the baby, gave up half of his bed, working his whole life around a child that he didn’t even know, had no ties to.

And there was the knot of the issue. When Steve had a baby here, with Billy around… it would be like… sort of felt like…

Billy snuffled and rolled closer, throwing a hand over the pregnancy pillow. It grazed Steve’s belly softly, and the baby rolled, moving towards Billy’s warmth.

Steve worried himself to sleep, vowing that in the morning they would have to talk, work something out. Because he was pretty sure if he stayed here much longer he was going to fall in love with Billy, and that could only end badly.

Because Billy was… too good for this. Too good for this situation, too good for Steve, who couldn’t even take care of his own pup, and didn’t know how to budget, hardly knew how to cook…

Steve had fully resolved to cut things off and move out in the morning. He needed to stand on his own two feet. He needed to leave before he…

Steve woke up and at first, he thought something was wrong with him. The only thing he had looked forward to while being pregnant was not having his heat. But he woke up cramping, slick between his thighs.

His eyes snapped open, “B-Billy, I think the baby…”

Billy wasn’t there.

Steve carefully got to his feet. These were probably contractions. He was probably just an idiot.

There was light coming from the bathroom. With every step, it hurt a little worse. It really felt like a heat, not like the doctor or all the books had said labor would.

He knocked softly, “Billy.”

“Go away, Harrington.”

Steve frowned. He thought he wasn’t Harrington anymore. It hurt worse than he imagined it would but he tried to push it aside.

“Billy, I think I’m having contractions,” Steve leaned against the door.

Billy groaned beyond the door, “God fucking… of course… I wanted to be there, Steve. I was really excited to see the baby. But you’ll have to get someone else to drive you.”

“Why?”

“I’m having my fucking rut, I s-shouldn’t leave the bathroom.”

Steve leaned against the door, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Billy said softly.

“No, I… that makes more sense actually…”

“What?”

“I thought I was in heat at first. I’m probably just… y’know…”

“Right.” Billy’s voice was clipped off sharply at the end.

“I could…” Steve’s heart rose. Just a little. In any other circumstance he was pretty sure Billy would turn him down but in a rut… maybe…

“Oh, no,” Billy said swiftly. “No, it’s okay. You go back to bed.”

Steve rested his forehead against the door, and Billy whimpered inside.

“Billy,” Steve mumbled.

“Steve,” Billy groaned, “Go back to bed. I might try to leave, take a drive. Clear my head.”

Steve was pretty sure Billy meant he would go to do something else, but it was nice of him to pretend, for Steve’s sake. And he got the picture, really he did.

Steve crawled back into bed, holding his pregnancy pillow close as he listened for Billy to leave. He pretended he wasn’t crying, like Billy pretended that he was just going to take a drive and not to go find another, better omega to spend his rut with. Just like Steve pretended that didn’t hurt, and that he wasn’t already in love.

Later in the morning, Steve woke up alone for the first time in weeks. He got up and made some toast, even though he didn’t feel much like eating it. He didn’t have a shift today which was a shame, he could have really used some distraction.

Instead, he just wandered around the apartment, picking things up and putting them down. Turning the tv on and off. Going through the baby clothes again, the ones that he’d cleaned and folded with Billy. He sat on the edge of Billy’s bed that he’d increasingly started to think of as their bed, and had leftover stew. The baby was kicking like crazy, and without Billy’s low singing to soothe the baby, Steve didn’t know what to do. Even his baby loved Billy more than him.

The whole thing was making him feel rather pathetic, actually. So when Lucas rang the bell at four, Steve couldn’t blame himself for leaping for it.

“Bi- Oh, hey, man,” Steve bit his lip. Of course Billy wouldn’t ring the bell at his own house. He felt like an idiot.

“Hey,” Lucas smiled, holding out a covered dish. “My mom made some extra casserole, she asked me to bring this over on my way to Mike’s.”

Steve blinked at him, “Does everyone in this whole town know I can’t cook?”

“No,” Lucas didn’t lower his hands, “She really made extra. She told me.”

Steve frowned, but eyed up the container. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Cheesy and potato-y, not like the super healthy crap his mom used to make when he lived at home.

“Okay,” Steve took it, “Fine. Thanks.”

“No problem…” Lucas waved, “Well. See you, Steve.”

Steve came back into the kitchen and frowned, staring at the innocent container. Lucas and Billy weren’t the best of friends, but they’d slowly started to make their peace, even hanging out a few times. It was weird of Lucas not to mention Billy, or to just bring enough for one.

His suspicions were confirmed the next day at work.

Robin came back from lunch, her eyes trained on the floor, “Hey, uh, my mom packed too much in my lunch so I left it out back there.”

“What?”

“My mom made me too much,” Robin noded, sort of weirdly. “I left it out for you, if you don’t want to go to the chinese place.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Robin bit her lip, “And my mom made too much.”

“Your mom made too much of the same peanut butter, no jelly sandwich, with one apple that you’ve eaten since you were eight?”

Robin’s eyes danced to the Romance section, “Yeah.”

“Spill it, Buckley.”

“I can’t!” She cried.

“Oh, can’t you,” Steve rolled his eyes, “Come on. What’s the deal?”

She gnawed her lip, “So… Nancy called me last night and asked me, y’know, as a favor, to bring an extra sandwich.”

“Nancy called-” Steve wrinkled his nose.

“Well, I guess… Billy’s been holed up at Susan’s, he asked Max and your little brigade of tiny dorks to keep you fed,” Robin frowned, “So Mike thought he’d ask Nancy who asked me. So it’s not like…. A big deal…”

“Not a big deal,” Steve threw up his hands, “Why doesn’t everyone just take an ad out in the paper. Jesus, I knew Billy thought I was pathetic, but-”

“Billy doesn’t think you’re pathetic, dingus,” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, he does. The other night I even asked him to share his rut with me, because… wait. How would you know what Billy thinks of me?”

Her eyes were still caught mid roll when she froze, cringing.

“What do you know, Buckley,” Steve pressed.

“I mean, I don’t know anything for sure,” She hemmed, sliding around the counter and tugging on her jaunty tie.

“But you know something, don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything,” She sighed, “But… Steve… come on.”

“What?”

“You haven’t spoken to the guy in what, a few years-”

“We waved. Sometimes.”

“And then he comes up out of the woodwork to take you to his small one bedroom apartment,” She smirked, but her eyes got starry. Starry like Doctor Zhivago-y. “And he’s building the crib and taking you to doctor’s appointments, and cooking you food because he knows you can’t cook.”

“I really want to know who told him I can’t cook,” Steve pouted.

“I did,” She took him by the arms, “But the point, Steve, is that he spent his rut locked in a bedroom at his stepmom’s trailer, or did you miss that part?”

Steve twisted a little, ready to deny it.

“And why are you so interested anyway,” Robin smiled. “He’s just free food, right?”

“Billy isn��t just free food,” Steve snapped back.

“Okay. Then what is he?”

“He’s… nice to me. Puts on bad movies and dances with me in the kitchen and drives too fast and…” Steve frowned. “He does stuff for the baby but also there’s other stuff too. It’s like I’m not pregnant or… no… like he’s cool just hanging out with me. And me being pregnant, the baby… that’s all just cool with him. Like he likes… even that part of me.”

Robin nodded, “Yes. And how do you feel about that?”

“I really… I fucking miss him, Robin,” Steve doesn’t immediately recognize the feeling, but the baby kicks like he finally hit the buzzer.

“Yes,” Robin nodded, “Now, when he comes out of rut, I don’t want to hear anything about how you’re a bad omega or some shit. Go get your man.”

Steve intended to. The only thing was it turned out to be slightly harder to get your man when you started to have contractions near the end of your shift. Steve had heard that the first time giving birth there was plenty of time, but that really didn’t seem to be the case. All too soon, it got out of hand. He called and left a message at Susan’s, hoping maybe Billy might be able to hear it if he wasn’t banging some other omega across the mattress. And Robin insisted that she could drive him with her learner’s permit, but the drive to the hospital had also taken about two decades off of his life.

It shouldn’t matter that Billy wasn’t there. He wasn’t really the baby’s dad. Robin was there, helping him fill out the forms. And the contractions weren’t really that bad, except for sometimes when they were. Steve gripped the plasticky waiting room chair, trying to breathe through the pain while Robin hurried through the questions.

When he finally got in a room it turned out his regular doctor, who had been seeing him for months, was off for the day after a marathon cesarean surgery. And would Steve mind if they call another doctor in?

He minded. He minded quite a bit but he was terrified to say it, so he just shut up and got on the bed when they told him. Robin was out of her mind a little, but she was holding his hand and telling him to breathe through it.

“You can go, I got this,” Steve told her.

“As if,” Robin sniffed, “This is best friend privilege. I’m overruling you.”

“Rob-”

“Motion carried,” A voice cut in.

They both turned towards the door. Billy was sweating like he’d run there from the trailer, but it was probably just his rut. He sagged against the door.

“You came,” Steve breathed.

“Best friend privilege. Gets you out of all sorts of tight jams,” Billy smiled, “Also I called the Doc before I drove in. She’s gonna hook me up with some rut calming injections.”

“You called her? B-but she’s supposed to be off until Monday-”

“Funny, she didn’t mention that,” Billy shrugged, “Now, how are you doing, pretty boy?”

Steve’s eyes did not have permission to fill with tears but they did anyway.

“Pretty boy?”

“Steve?” Robin whispered, “Is it… is something wrong?”

“No, I-” Steve swiped at his eyes and immediately broke into a sob.

“Oh,” Robin looked between them, “Let me give you all a moment alone.”

Billy was still hanging onto the door when Robin dashed out, “What’s wrong? Steve?”

“I didn’t have time to plan,” Steve tried to still his voice but there was still more than a little bit of a wail at the end.

“Plan what? Are you missing something? Your hospital bag, I can drive out right fucking now and get-”

“No. Billy, why did you ask me to move in?”

Billy blinked, “To help you out. Steve, I don’t understand, what do you need to plan?”

“How to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

It took Steve a moment to be able to suck in a breath and look up. Billy was staggering towards the bed, his scent heavy with rut, his mouth open. It reminded Steve a little of how Billy looked when he slept, his mouth open, cheeks soft and pink.

“What?”

“I know that’s… God, probably the last thing you wanted when you offered to let me stay,” Steve whispered, “But, Billy, I-”

“It’s all I could hope for,” Billy was leaning on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide with shock.

“What?”

“Everyone told me it was crazy. I mean it was crazy, because there was every chance you’d hate me, loathe living with me-” Billy broke off, shaking his head a little. “But I’ve been hopelessly in love with you, Steve. For years. Tried to deny it, lie about it…”

“Billy,” Steve whispered, “Why did you ask me to move in?”

“You needed help and I’m… I’m in love with you. I had to offer. When you love someone you offer to help them.”

“And you don’t care? About the baby?”

“What about the baby?”

“That it’s not yours.”

“It’s not mine?” Billy gasped incredulously, and then his face split into a grin. “No. I don’t care about that.”

“You really-”

“Love you. Yes, I do Steve. And you-”

“Love you,” Steve broke off with a gasp, grabbing out and holding onto the guard rail on his bed with white knuckles, “Shit.”

Billy reached out and took his hand, “Sorry, sweetheart. Worst timing ever.”

“Just,” Steve gritted out between his teeth, “When this is all over, kiss me?”

“When this is all over, you’ll have a baby, and the kiss of your life,” Billy held Steve’s hand tightly to his chest. “Promise.”

And just a few hours later, with baby Ben in a tiny bassinet next to the bed and Robin asleep in the visitors chair, Billy curled around Steve on the tiny hospital bed, and after wiping the happy tears from Steve’s eyes with his thumbs, Billy did just that.

Billy’s lips were soft and when he pulled back, pressing small kisses to the corner of Steve’s mouth, the whimper he made was soft too.

“You’re amazing,” Billy whispered, “That was… incredible.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes squeezed out a few tears, “I feel pretty incredible.”

“Good,” Billy rubbed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks.

“You’re really okay with…” Steve sucked in a breath when Billy’s breath ghosted over his lips again. “All of this?”

“All of this is all I want,” Billy kissed him, slipping his tongue inside and just stroking softly at the sensitive inside of Steve’s lips.

“How are Oma and Papa,” A nurse breezed in, clipboard in hand.

“I-”

“We’re good,” Steve interrupted. “Feeling pretty incredible, actually.”

#harringrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #harringrove fics #moodboard #1000 follower fic #someone get a im not a stepdad im the dad that stepped up shirt for Billy plz #harringrove fanfic #harringrove fanfiction #omegaverse #tw mpreg #alpha billy hargrove #omega steve harrington

210 notes · View notes

saunsausilu · 5 months ago

Text

navigation

masterlist of everything

media

all for the game (x) – mattneil · andreil

attack on titan (x) – rivarae

avatar the last airbender (x) – zukka · zukki · sukka

bleach (x) – ichigo/omc

bts (x) – bunkook · namgikook · yoonkook · jikook · taegikook

bungou stray dogs (x) – dazatsu

captive prince (x) – lamen · n/d/l

daiya no ace (x) – miyusawa

dc (x) – d s · halbarry · jaydick · birdflash · sladick

final fantasy 7 (x) – zakkura · strifentine

fire emblem: three houses (x) – sylvix

genshin impact (x) – tartali · kaeluc · xingyun · ayathoma · scarakazu

haikyuu (x) – daishiba · kugushiba · kagehina · sakuatsu

harry potter (x) – hp s · tomarry · harry/omc · harry/george · drarry · hinny

jujutsu kaisen (x) – itafushikugi · fushiita · gego

marvel (x) – stucky · ironstrange · foggymatt

my hero academia (x) – mha s · tododeku · aideku · bakudeku · rodeku · shindeku · todoiideku

naruto (x) – naruto s · short king naruto · izuita · sasunaru · gaanaru · shikanaru · madatobi · obikaka · irukaka · gaikaka

persona 5 (x) – akeshu · pegoryuann

sasaki to miyano (x) – sasamiya

shadowhunters (x) – malec

spiderverse (x) – punkflower

star wars (x) – sw s · the jedi · jangobi · codywan · bobadin

stranger things (x) – harringrove · steddie · harringroveson

the magicians (x) – queliot

voltron (x) – keitor · klance · sheith

weak hero class 1 (x)

yuri on ice (x) – victuuri

19 days (x) – tianshan

bed friend (x) – kinguea

between us (x) – winteam

big dragon (x) – mangkornyai

blueming (x) – da un/si won

cherry magic (x) – kuroada

cutie pie (x) – yidiao · liankuea · nuersyn · kueadiao

don’t say no (x) – leofiat

dumb husky and his white cat shizun (x) – ranwan

ghost host ghost house (x) – pluemkevin

i told sunset about you (x)

jinx manhwa (x)

kinnporsche (x) – kp lore · kinnporsche · kimchay · vegaspete · vegasporsche

love in the air (x) – payurain · prapaisky

low tide in twilight (x)

midnight museum (x)

mo dao zu shi (x) – mdzs s · wangxian

moonlight chicken (x) – heartliming

my school president (x) – tinngun

not me (x) – seanwhite · danyok

our dating sim (x) – kiwan

pearl boy (x)

roses and champagne (x)

scum villain self-saving system (x) – bingqiu · bingliushen · liushen

semantic error (x) – jangchu

solo leveling (x)

star in my mind (x) – kluendao

the eclipse (x) – akkayan

the eighth sense (x) – jaewon/jihyun

the s classes that i raised (x) – jinjae

tian guan ci fu (x) – hualian

trash of the count’s family (x)

unknown the series (x)

vice versa (x)

word of honor (x) – wenzhou

misc

general format: 𝑥 writing, 𝑥 art, 𝑥 edit, character tags

fmvs (x)

forehead affection!! (x)

original writing

poetry (x)

omegaverse

gen tag

last updated: jul 27/24

tags undergoing edits (dna)

divider symbol ˚ (·) • . ° .

#navigation

2 notes · View notes

thissortofsorcery · 2 years ago

Text

Harringrove social media AU (in a season 2 setting because that is my paradise land) where Billy makes surfing TikToks as a teenager, with a really good following and a promising career as a pro surfer. Until Neil moves the entire family to a landlocked state, and Billy knows it's to punish him.

There could be several reasons for this:

-Billy is becoming too independent from Neil;

-Someone questioned a bruise Billy didn't cover up well enough and now it's all over the internet;

-Billy was caught with a guy he was seeing;

-Billy's mom saw his TikToks and tried to get in touch, Neil had been keeping him from her;

And now Billy's in a town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, two months into the school year, and everybody expects him to, what, be chill about it? Not care that Neil can just ruin his life and his career on a whim, and there's nothing he can do about it? Billy's raging, Billy's seething, Billy's hurt, and no one wants to or can help him. Susan won't lift a finger or say anything against Neil, looks down every time his dad raises his voice or his hand to hit Billy. And Max- Max is furious with him, blames him for the move like he was the one who decided to pack everything, like he was the one who sold his board and packed the cars and bought the ugly house on Cherry Lane.

What the hell is Billy supposed to do now? He's a senior and he had no plans of going to college, hasn't even thought of applying anywhere. His account is going to die out if he doesn't post anything, and who can guarantee he can raise it from the dead in a year if he makes it back to California once he's eighteen? He needs the TikTok money to make it back to California anyway. He's screwed. He's so screwed.

On the other side of this, is Steve. Steve is a gaming streamer and youtuber, or was- is. He's trying, okay? But ever since- everything, he can't play horror games anymore. He used to stream horror games pretty much exclusively, had whole events for it, charity streams, sponsorships, and then the whole Upside Down thing happened, and he knows his role in it was minor, okay, he knows he was there just for the tail end of it, but a seven-feet tall monster with a flower for a face coming out of the ceiling of the Byers house was both his starting and breaking point, apparently.

His channel was pretty good. Pretty stable. Then he tried to stream Blair Witch about a week after everything and had a panic attack on stream. Things didn't get better after that.

Nancy got him into Animal Crossing, because it's soothing, so he streams that now. And The Sims. Needless to say, his channel took a pretty big hit, as did his reputation. Like Tommy H. says, he turned bitch.

But it's fine, everything's fine. He's got Nancy, he's got a loyal online community that stayed after everything, even if it's small and no one's anywhere near Hawkins. He's got his SAD (Steve After Dark) Streams for when he can't sleep. Halloween is coming up and he's maybe sad he's not doing Spooktober this year, but. Maybe on the last week. Maybe on Halloween Day. If Nancy doesn't want to go to Tina's party.

Billy and Steve collide pretty much the same way. Steve is on edge and Billy is on edge, then the world's ugliest dogs are let out, and Maxine sneaks out, and Billy finds her in a house full of boys and an 18 year old washed out streamer who lies to him about it. Next thing Billy knows he's waking up in a half-destroyed kitchen with an empty syringe two feet from him, car gone, and not a single person in sight.

On Monday, Harrington's face looks bad. It's been a while since Billy's felt this guilty about putting a bruise on someone's face, but he knows he lost it a little, that night. Went too far. He doesn't remember most of it, and Billy doesn't know if that's from whatever drugs Maxine shot him with or from just- anger. Remorse just clogs his throat and he can't breathe. He decides to stay the fuck away from Harrington.

And then Tommy H. just has to take pictures of them, make a damn video, post it to Instagram and TikTok and tag them both. Of course it goes viral.

Billy spends a full week in a state of panic. He fully expects Harrington to press charges now.

(Steve, similarly, is panicking. He streams family friendly content now. He can't just get into fights. He can't stream until his face heals as it is.)

Billy feels even more like shit when his follower count goes up and his account sees more activity than it has since the move. Like it's a reward for beating up Harrington, or something. It's not right.

(The same happens to Steve.)

So Billy has an idea. He wants to apologize to Harrington. Wants to make it up to him. Maybe he can help him get his popularity back, get his channel to how it used to be, somehow. And if it keeps his own account alive, well.

It takes a little convincing, but Steve agrees. Dustin is trying to get him into his nerdy games, but Steve isn't sure he likes them. Steve's been having a hard time, since the second round with the Upside Down. He can't sleep, can't focus, Nancy went off with Jonathan. So maybe he wants a distraction, okay? Maybe he wants something that isn't life or death.

So Billy and Steve start a partnership of sorts. Steve films a couple of youtube videos playing co-op games with Billy. Branches out to TikTok, maybe. Starts bringing Billy to his streams, at first just to hang out and then to take over and play some stuff. Billy manages to burn down Steve's entire 9th generation legacy mansion on The Sims in 30 minutes. Billy and Steve play Dead By Daylight together, and Steve feels increasingly comfortable playing horror games with Billy around.

It's working so well for Steve, he decides he wants to pay it back. So he teaches Billy to ice skate so they can make content for Billy's TikTok. Steve takes Billy sledding when it snows. Billy films Steve falling asleep in unlikely places during the day and not waking up when Billy piles things on him.

Steve hunts down and finds Billy's old surfing board that Neil sold and buys it back.

At some point, Steve becomes Billy's best friend. If he could- If they could, Billy would- They could be more, Billy thinks. But they're all over the internet, and Billy doesn't think Neil watches their content, but word can get back to him really easily. People like to speculate as it is. It's a small fucking town.

The climax would be, of course, getting Billy out of Neil's house. Getting Neil arrested. So Billy can be free.

(Feel free to explore and play with this AU as you like!!)

#harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #billy antis dni #mine

367 notes · View notes

prettyboyporter · 4 years ago

Text

Love Between My Fingers

harringrove for BLM ficlet for @wingedbears , who wanted Steve playing with Billy’s hair.

Also inspired by this art by @wrecked-fuse

~*~

Tonight, Billy lets Steve play with his hair.

It’s not the first time Steve’s made a move by playing with their hair, and not the first time that Steve’s ever touched curly hair before.

But Steve’s the first person to touch Billy outside of medical purposes after his recovery, and Steve knows this. And it’s definitely one of the handful of times that touching someone’s hair had great significance to him.

They’re in Billy’s bedroom in December because Neil’s been gone for months, kicked out by Susan, so now Steve can be in Billy’s bedroom, and snow falls in thick blankets outside. “Roads are gonna be slick as hell,” Steve says. “Doesn’t really look safe for driving.”

Billy agrees with a little nod. He doesn’t speak often -- not like he used to anyway, not since he was released from the hospital and he hovered around Steve’s perimeter at Family Video until Steve invited him in. He lured Billy with videos and popcorn the way Hopper lured Eleven with food in a box outside of his cabin.

That night at Billy’s house they watch A Christmas Carol with Alaistair Sim and Christmas Vacation. They sit too close together on the sofa, knees touching, too much Bailey’s in their hot chocolate. Steve doesn’t bring two separate popcorn bowls -- one big bowl rests between them on their thighs.

“It’s getting late,” Billy says. He’s shoulder to shoulder with Steve on the sofa at this point. “You don’t have to drive in that, if you don’t want. Could stay in here with me. I’d be okay with that.”

Steve follows Billy to his room and Billy talks about the aches he still feels, even months after the accident, how sometimes he can feel the snow in his bones. How sometimes his scars feel tight or randomly start throbbing.

Steve just says, “oh yeah?” and Billy keeps talking as they climb into Billy’s bed, facing each other. He talks and Steve lets him, asks him probing questions, prompts him to continue -- Billy hasn’t poured his thoughts out like this in months, as if some sort of stopper had been pulled, so Steve listens to him ramble until the hour grows late and Billy climbs over to turn off his bedside lamp.

“Thank you for telling me all of that,” Steve whispers. Everything feels still in the room, outside even, like the snow fell to muffle everything.

“Thank you for listening,” Billy whispers back.

They never turn away from each other. Still facing each other, Steve reaches out to touch Billy’s hair. He lets the curls fall between his fingers, sliding the locks through carefully, and he can see Billy’s eyes watching him in the darkness. He can feel the air between them charged.

Billy’s leg brushes against Steve’s under the covers.

Steve slides his leg under Billy’s and Billy takes the cue -- he entwines his legs with Steve’s and then Steve slides his hand over Billy’s side. Steve’s stomach does a nervous swoop when Billy reaches up to touch Steve’s chin, because this is it. This is when it will happen.

It doesn’t really surprise Steve that the evening, or morning, ends with a kiss. Ends with a kiss or starts with a kiss, whatever, Steve thinks, but now that he knows the intimate touch of Billy’s hair between his fingers, of Billy’s touch on Steve’s skin, and he’ll never give that up.

#harringrove #my fic #my writing #harringrove for BLM #soft fic for hard times #soft times at ridgemont high

166 notes · View notes

hoegrove · 5 years ago

Note

Hi!!!! I love your Harringrove sims!! Can you put them to download, please? They're so perfect!!!

Helloo :)) ❤ thank youu! I enjoy fucking around with them way too much heh

I’ll have to look into that - I think I’ve shared them in my library (... I’m not sure) but there’s a lot of CC involved; mainly their outfits and Billy’s hair, haha. Well, I’ll make a post about this later or tomorrow, okay? :) I’m more than willing to share, I just gotta figure out the best way to do so (+ I might have to clean up my library and get rid of all the test versions :’) )

6 notes · View notes

callunavulgari · 5 years ago

Text

Year-In-Fic | 2019

How many fics did you write this year? What was your total wordcount?

This year I wrote 41 fics (technically 40 as the last was published today, but I wrote it in December so I’m counting it), for a total of 96,689 words. For even more interesting numbers, of that 96k, a little over 70k of them were written in the month of October alone, so I’m pretty proud of that.

Fic Roundup!

children of dust and ash | Bartimaeus | Bartimaeus/Kitty(/Nathaniel) | 1,801 words | Kitty summons Bartimaeus on a chilly fall day in her thirty-eighth year.

sweet music playing in the dark | DBH | 1,102 words | “I noticed some time ago that you seem to have an appreciation for jazz.”

Radio Ga Ga | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,143 words | There’s always another party in Hawkins, Indiana. It would be almost boring if it weren’t for Steve Harrington.

Sunlight | Marvel | Loki/Thor | 765 words | They aren’t quite out of the solar system when Loki appears at the arm of Thor’s chair, hair shorn short and a furious snarl on his face.

like the bough of a willow tree | Detroit Become Human | Hank/Connor | 1,214 words | There’s a human lost in his woods.

knocking on heaven’s door | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,748 words | “Just, get in the fucking car. I’ll drive you home.” Billy looked at him, very seriously, and said, “What if I don’t want to go home?”

no more dreaming like a ghost | KH | Axel/Roxas | 813 words | He is in the kitchen, the stove top still warm under his thighs, and everything smells of cherries. The pie is cooling on the windowsill, the sun slanting in warm and buttery, and it is like a dream. A memory. A wish.

Cheers | DBH | Hankcon | 6,368 words | “Are you coming in or not?”Connor blinks, jerks his eyes up and away from those hands and-The bartender has blue eyes. They match the spinning LED at his temple perfectly.

bury a friend (try to wake up) | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,587 words | Steve digs up Billy’s body on a Tuesday.

won’t be too soon ‘til I say… goodnight moon | KH | Riku/Sora | 4,549 words | The house was built in the fall of 1882.

you’ll never know what hit you | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 5,379 words | “C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

make this chaos count | EOS 10 | Ryan/Akmazian | 724 words | “You really should stop looking for me,” Akmazian tells him, fingers creeping across Ryan’s ribcage, mapping the architecture of his ribs.

eat you up whole | The Witcher | Geralt/Regis | 2,527 words | “How many mouthfuls do you think I could take from you before it had some effect?” Regis whispers, lips against his throat. Geralt can feel the pinprick of fangs. “Four? Six? Ten? More, even?”

forget the horror here | DBH | Hankcon | 4,390 words | “Hello,” the android says, it’s chest heaving, the gleam of its heart brighter, bluer than before.

summoning demons (and other bad first date ideas) | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 3,868 words | “If I let you out of that circle,” Ryan says, slowly. “Are you going to eat me?”

Itch | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims | 1,440 words | The boneturner takes from him two ribs - one for him and one for Jon.

the salt water sting | Dishonored | Corvo/Outsider | 2,163 words | The ship wrecks several hundred miles off of the coast of Karnaca.

a skeleton of something more | SGA | Rodney/John | 3,072 words | “John?” he murmurs, still coasting on the pain. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, if cotton were also made of glass.

in the woods somewhere | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 4,570 words | Stiles buys a house in Virginia.

Wake Up | The Magnus Archives | Martin/Jon | 550 words | “If you wake up,” Martin tells him, experimentally. “I won’t go through with it. You can tell me what a stupid idea it was, and we can laugh about it, and everything will be normal.”

Pas de Deux | KH | Axel/Roxas | 506 words | Roxas doesn’t remember what the sky looks like anymore.

try to wake up | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 1,226 words | They do not, in fact, bone down and praise Satan.

too late to come on home | LoZ | Gen | 1,391 words | “You look familiar,” the boy says in his strange, haunting voice. “Are you lost?”

patron saint of the lost causes | Harry Potter | Draco/Harry | 4,203 words | “Can’t you just, y’know,” he waves a hand and makes an obscene gesture, his cheeks flaring red. “Shag it out?”

wouldn’t you like to see something strange? | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 1,571 words | “I’d say you make my heart pound, but well…” Stiles nods meaningfully to his chest, where if you look hard enough between the slots of his ribs, you can see the lump of muscle that once was his heart, pointedly not beating. “You know.”

the night is softly, sweetly calling | Teen Wolf | Sterek | 2,938 words | Here’s the thing that Stiles never tells the Hales: his mother was strange too.

Haunt | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 1,486 words | Ryan couldn’t remember a time when the world didn’t believe in ghosts.

bite my tongue, bide my time | PJO | Nico/Percy(/Annabeth) | 1,376 words | “What’s wrong with you?” Nico asks, cowering when Percy places a gentle kiss on his collarbone.

Bird Song | Raven Cycle | Ronan/Adam, Gen | 1,445 words | On a dreary Sunday in early January, Ronan dreams himself a pair of wings.

kiss me hard until you’re done | Star Wars | Reylo | 3,082 words | He looks up at her from under heavy lids, dark hair sweeping forward to frame his face. “May I have this dance?”

beauty in the dissonance | Marvel | Tony/Loki | 1,411 words | When Tony dies, it isn’t for forever.

like real people do | Stranger Things | Harringrove | 2,808 words | “I’ve got the sight, man,” he says with a small shrug. “And look, I feel for you. You’re dead and I’m not, and that sucks, but unless you’re planning on doing something about it, I’d really appreciate it if you could stop feeling me up and let me get back to sleep.”

i’d rather drown in your ocean | Naruto | Itachi/Shisui | 1,630 words | The Uchihas are an odd sort. Everyone says so.

catch your breath | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien/Sam | 2,588 words | Mark had never assumed in a million years that he would ever see Damien again. He hadn’t factored in zombies.

Nightmare | The Magnus Archives | Martin/Jonathan | 1,424 words | “All right,” he says, taking Jon’s still outstretched hand. “Let’s give the dream what it wants.”

dreaming of the crash | Gravity Falls | Mabel & Dipper | 484 words | When the end of the world comes, they’re under the bed.

don’t we love it now? | Kingdom Hearts | Sora/Riku/Kairi | 1,784 words | When Kairi is eleven years old, she gets lost in the woods.

all this, and love too, will ruin us | Star Wars | Reylo | 1,102 words | Rey is awake to watch the sunrise

open the walls, play with your dolls | Coraline | Coraline/Wybie | 2,886 words | Halloween at the Pink Palace is a lot like any other time of year.

in every golden trace | Queen’s Thief | Costis/Eugenides/Irene | 4,645 words | For as long as Costis can remember, he’s had two names scored across the skin atop his ribs, one on either side of his rib cage, nearly perfect mirrors to one another.

a different kind of danger in the daylight | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 6,930 words | Sleeping with Holland was never part of the plan.

Best story I wrote this year: Probably the night is softly, sweetly calling. I wrote this for the 18th of October, and it’s the much awaited third part of a Teen Wolf/Addams Family fusion that I wrote back in 2014. A lot of people have asked me to continue this series over the years, but I never did because I felt my writing style had changed too much and then I fell out of the Teen Wolf fandom completely. But I’d written another Teen Wolf fic a few days before (more on this later) and I was just... very nostalgic all of a sudden. My style of writing had changed, but to offset the change of tone, I wrote the story from Stiles’s POV instead of Derek’s and it made all the difference. I was pretty pleased with the result, and hope that it made everyone happy.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. patron saint of the lost causes. There were a couple fics that I think I did a really good job writing this year, the one listed above and below included, but I think that this one was my favorite. Writing Drarry was a surreal experience, because even when I was in the Harry Potter fandom I didn’t really write for it (well, I didn’t publish what I’d written for it) and I was surprised by how easily it came to me. I tried to channel a lot of the feeling of men who had mothers when I was writing this one, because it seemed very right.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. All right, so technically my stats are all messed up this year because when I posted the third part of the Addams/Teen Wolf fusion, I also posted a chapter to Que Sera, Sera since so many people were subscribed to that story. So. From a purely stats standpoint, Que Sera, Sera was the most popular because it has a total of 25,790 hits, 2973 kudos, and 115 comments. BUT, I did not actually write anything new for that one so-

in the woods somewhere was the first fic I’d written for Teen Wolf since I wrote take me to church in August of 2017. It has over 900 kudos and some 5000+ hits. When I decided to do Dark Month this year, I knew that I wanted to revisit some of my old fandoms, so Teen Wolf was always going to be a given. I wrote take me to church as a cathartic goodbye to the show, the fandom, and of course, Stiles and Derek. It was my soft epilogue for the boys.

in the woods somewhere has a very similar feel to it. It’s post-canon, obviously, and features Stiles buying a house in Virginia and Derek slowly working his way back into his life. It is also very much in the ‘soft epilogue’ genre, leaning heavily into the magical Stiles Stilinski trope while maintaining the FBI agent direction canon was leading us in. Also it has a lot of comfort things for me - judicious descriptions of food, a packed witchy cabin in the woods, and warm shower kisses. Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Possibly either won't be too soon 'til I say... goodnight moon or all this, and love too, will ruin us. The first of these two fics is almost 5k of spooky season Riku/Sora that was strongly inspired by Uzumaki-sama’s old fic Goodnight Moon. It was the second day of October and my prompts for the day were moon cycles, nightmare, cage, lookalike, mirrors, and glowing eyes, which was just asking for fic exploring doppelgangers and old haunted houses. I loved writing it, and maybe I should have expected it since Kingdom Hearts is such a quiet fandom nowadays, but it honestly stung that it didn’t get more attention.

The second of those fics was a Reylo fic (yes, yes, I know, it’s an awful ship, etc. etc.) that was very much written to be slow and melancholy and kind of surreal. Sometimes my smallest fics are my favorite, and I really liked this one. But alas, some things were not meant to be.

Most fun story to write: I had a whole lot of fun writing summoning demons (and other bad first date ideas). A lot of the fics I wrote this year, particularly during October, were really fun and easy to write. I missed writing every day. This one in particular though was about 4k of Ryan accidentally summoning Shane (the demon) while Shane was standing right next to him in his human suit. It let me play with a lot of body horror tropes that I don’t explore usually, and Buzzfeed Unsolved is a very fun, fresh fandom to dig around in. This is the second of the three (I think it was three, at least) fics that I wrote for the fandom during October and I had so much fun with it.

Story that could have been better? I don’t know about better, but Sunlight and Bird Song were both supposed to be significantly longer. I wrote Sunlight shortly after watching Endgame, and it was always going to be me working my way through my issues with that movie (Loki not really coming back, weird wonky time travel, Thor leaving his people after his whole arc was him learning how to be a good king) but I got distracted and had to go somewhere that day and just never got back to it.

Bird Song is actually a fic I’ve been meaning to write for years. Ages ago (and we are truly talking ages ago, like September 2015 ages ago), @kaikamahine gave me a prompt for E, 17, and hymnal, which basically balanced out to Ronan, churches, and wings. So day 20 of October was going to be Raven Cycle (with such prompts as stacked deck, darkness, wings, and fight fire with fire, it was begging for it) and I was finally going to write Ronan wingfic. It was going to be great. There was going to be Calla and Ronan interaction and found family themes and there was going to be a church, because obviously, but then I wasn’t doing so well and ran out of time, SO. Definitely could have been better.

Story I wrote to fix things: beauty in the dissonance, the 24th fic of October, was a Tony/Loki flavored story where both Tony and Loki are, in fact, alive. Sunlight was written as a direct response to Endgame, even if it was never finished properly. make this chaos count was the 4th day of October, and written because I’m still not fucking over Ryan and Akmazian. And then knocking on heaven’s door was written just after viewing s3 of Stranger Things. It was uh, less of a fix it fic and more a wallow in your grief fic, but it still applies.

Oh, and a different kind of danger in the daylight was technically fix it fic? I’m generally okay with how Shades of Magic ended, despite my favorite character dying because it came off as a good death. However, the recipient of my Yuletide gift wanted no character death and I wanted to write something post-canon, so presto, fix it fic.

Longest completed fic this year: a different kind of danger in the daylight, followed by Cheers. Both are hovering between 6 and 7k, which isn’t technically long, but since about 90% of my fic this year was written over the course of a day each... I’ll take it.

Fandom you enjoyed writing for most this year: I had a lot of fun with Buzzfeed Unsolved and The Magnus Archives, but I also had fun dipping briefly back into Harry Potter and Teen Wolf.

Favorite character you wrote this year: I had way, way too much fun writing Geralt and Regis in eat you up whole. I have literally no idea if it translated into good fic, but it was fun and just shy of porny and I just really like Geralt. I also had a lot of fun writing Lila in the Shades of Magic fic.

Most memorable comment(s) this year: I got two comments from @kaikamahine about a week ago that honestly made my day. @faorism reread one of my older Stranger Things fics and left a comment, which made me reread it, which was just very good. Every single comment I got on the new Teen Wolf fics with some variation of ‘missed you’ or ‘so glad you’re back’ made me fucking melt. The two different comments where the reader wasn’t even familiar with the material, just read and enjoyed because I wrote it. The comment on one of my Stranger Things fics that just reads, “What the FUCK this SLAPPED.” The comment directly above that one that is from one of my favorite writers in the fandom. The several comments on the single PJO fic I wrote this year which were different variations of “oh my gosh it’s you” and “it’s been so long.”

And of course everyone losing their collective shit over some of the grosser October fics. Namely Itch.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t: For the most part, the fics I wanted to write but didn’t are the same as last year- Sabriel AU, Enjolras/Grantaire fic, found family Dishonored fic, bodyswappying Reylo, Sterek Bioshock and Carmilla AUs which I am likely to post as is sometime next year.

I still want to finish the Castlevania OT3 fic, the giant canon-divergent Bright Sessions AU where years after the series ends, Mark ends up running into Damien again in a small town in the middle of nowhere only to realize that he has a daughter, a farm, a life, and is just so drawn to it that he keeps coming back. I have the Wolf 359 post-canon fic where everyone has feelings and found family is a general theme and maybe Eiffel smooches an AI. I also have the smuttier Wolf 359 fic that’s been lurking in the back of my head for months where Eiffel and Kepler er, basically eiffel tower Jacobi.

Oh, and I have the Reylo fic where Rey (and Ben, through the bond) sit through General Organa’s funeral and keep coming back to each other afterwards. And that Final Fantasy 15 fic where Dino and Noctis do the nasty. And the Hera & Jacobi fic from October. And uh, the post episode 9 fic that’s been lurking about in my brain.

Oddest story: Probably i’d rather drown in your ocean? It was pretty spot on aesthetically for me, but it was weird to write Itachi and Shisui again, especially in a strange modern day vampire context? Also Itch and Nightmare were both Magnus Archive fics that were super gross (Itch) and just plain spooky and bizarre (Nightmare) but they were so fun to write. Hardest story to do: Cheers gave me some trouble initially but got a lot easier as I went on. I hit writer’s block pretty bad with the Shades of Magic fic too, but that seems to be what happens when I come up on deadlines. Easiest story to write? Most of October’s fics were a blast to write and super easy besides. Basically all of the Kingdom Hearts, Stranger Things, and Teen Wolf fic. And the Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Most mining of your own history in one story: Probably either open the walls, play with your dolls or no more dreaming like a ghost. Not in any way that really matters, but there are a couple familiar details.

Themes, or absence thereof: Mostly either spooky scary things or fix it fics. Sometimes both.

Where did you publish/archive your stories? Ao3, as per usual. Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: The only thing that I currently have planned is the post episode 9 fic and a couple things that I’ve had planned for a while that may or may not come out.

Sexiest moment (excerpt): “How many mouthfuls do you think I could take from you before it had some effect?” Regis whispers, lips against his throat. Geralt can feel the pinprick of fangs. “Four? Six? Ten? More, even?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Geralt murmurs, and Regis laughs.

“I would,” he agrees.

“So, why don’t you find out instead of boring me with all the details?”

Regis pulls away from his throat, far enough that Geralt can meet his eyes again. He swallows at what he finds there. Amusement, yes, but also hunger, brighter than the moonlight reflecting in his eyes.

“A taste, first, I think,” Regis says in a low, cool voice, and then closes the space between them.

Geralt had forgotten the blood on his lip, but he remembers it when Regis catches him in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s wet and bruising, and Geralt is responding before he remembers he shouldn’t, fighting back the only way he knows how with the rest of him indisposed. He claws at him, bites at him, and the vampire laughs when Geralt catches his plump lower lip between his teeth and bites down. Regis gives his mouth one last darting swipe of the tongue before he is pulling away.

There’s a flare of color high on Regis’s cheeks and his ears are distinctly more pointed than they were five minutes ago, the sclera of his eyes gone red.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been bitten by a human before,” Regis tells him, leaning close like he’s divulging a secret. “It’s a rather exhilarating experience.”

“I’m all for a repeat experience,” Geralt quips, eyes narrowed. “Lean in just a little and we can see if I can manage to tear off your lips before you rip out my throat.”

“Please,” she whispers, and feels herself quiver like a taut bowstring when he touches her mouth gently, with the very tips of his fingers.

He smiles and leads her away, through the demons and goblins and fae that she came here to kill.

They make it as far as the parking lot before he is hitching her up the side of a gleaming Mercedes, hooking her legs around his shoulders, and hiking her skirts up over her thighs so he can duck his head beneath them. His fingers linger for a moment on the silver of the knives strapped securely to her thigh, and then he is reaching in, guiding her underwear to the side and getting his mouth on her, right where she wants it.

She must make some kind of noise, because he chuckles, tongue circling her clit in a slow, languid way that makes her think that he is savoring her, that he likes the taste of her on his tongue.And he must, because she knows what he is. Knows that just as he’s savoring the taste of her, he is eating her, feeding off of her want like the things that she hunts in the dark feed off of blood and marrow and souls. She knows, but it isn’t enough to stop her from tilting her head back, gasping for him, the distant wink of streetlights and stars so far away.

He makes her come with his mouth on her, with his fingers inside her, and even as she’s shaking around him, she knows that it isn’t enough. She wants more, wants to feel the heavy press of him inside around, wants to kiss his lips and taste herself on his tongue.

“Please,” she says, her thighs shaking, and he laughs, pulling away and easing her down, until her legs are looped around his waist instead of her shoulders. He reaches between them, and she knows what’s happening beneath her skirts, knows that he’s getting his cock out of his pants and pressing it against her, can feel it as he sinks slowly into her, the tight fit of it so sweet, so perfect that it makes her ache.

“You’re lovely,” he whispers, kissing her shoulders and fucking into her slow, a teasing stretch that makes her mouth water, makes her twitch.

“Is this what you wanted?” Hank jeers, one finger circling the rim of Connor’s hole. There’s a flush of angry blue across his cheeks. His hair is coming loose from its usually immaculate tail, curling against his forehead. His eyes are blue. His LED is not. “To lay back and take it? From a fucking machine?”

Connor whines, back arching as Hank dips the tip of his thumb inside, just enough to hold him open.

“That is it, isn’t it?” Hanks says softly. There’s a touch of triumph to his gaze as he fucks Connor open on his thumb. Something mean, too. Disdain, slowly unfurling in the curve of his lips. He shakes his head. “All this time, coming to this bar. Talking to me like you thought I was some kind of human, and you just wanted something like me to hold you up and take you apart.”

“No,” Connor gasps, but can’t help the twist of his hips when Hank adds another finger.

“No?” Hank says with a laugh. “Look at you.”

Connor’s cock jerks against his belly as Hank drags his pants the rest of the way down his thighs. They make it as far as his knees before they tangle, stuck on his shoes. His cheeks feel hot, and he- god, he wants to protest. Wants to say that Hank’s got it all wrong, that this is more. That he’s more.

But then Hank is flipping him over, until the arm of the couch is digging firmly into his belly, his ass high in the air. Hank pulls his fingers out, then leans over and spits, the cool slippery slide of the saliva trailing down the curve of his ass.

“All right, Connor,” he says. “This what you want? I’ll give it to you.”

No, Connor should say. It isn’t like that.

Instead, he says, “Please.”

Crackiest moment (excerpt):

“Did you just sneak into my house?” Stiles breathes, absurdly charmed.

Derek’s in his human disguise, everything dangerous about him hidden away from view, lurking just under the surface. He gives Stiles a look, and says, “Don’t be weird about it.”

He shuts the door behind him.

“I’ve got a nice monster knocking on my door just before the witching hour,” Stiles tells him playfully, making room for Derek to take a seat next to him. “How am I not supposed to be weird about that?”

Derek does something akin to rolling his eyes, the flames doing a little shimmy around the circumference of his eye sockets. He leans back against Stiles’s headboard, seemingly unconcerned that their sides are pressed together. Derek’s skin is very warm, human warm, and Stiles is all bones. He sucks up the warmth greedily.

“I’d say you make my heart pound, but well…” Stiles nods meaningfully to his chest, where if you look hard enough between the slots of his ribs, you can see the lump of muscle that once was his heart, pointedly not beating. “You know.”

“What’s the local legend about this thing?” Shane asks, hopping up onto the throne easily and spreading out, eyes on the night sky. He looks good. He always looks good, but Ryan likes him best like this, out here with the moonlight shining down on them and the camera catching all his best angles.

As Ryan watches, he blinks, and turns to look at Ryan, puzzled. “Ryan?”

Ryan clears his throat. “The locals say that if you make a wish while sitting on her throne, the witch will grant it.”

Shane gives him a wicked smile and hums a few bars of Genie in a Bottle. Ryan chokes out a laugh, crossing the space between them until he’s leaning up against the side of the throne himself.

Shane closes his eyes. “I wish, I wish with all my might, please dear god, let there be ghosts here this night.”

Ryan holds his breath.

“C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

All around them, the world is still.

Shane cracks an eye open and squints at him. “Did it work?”

“Jon?” someone asks, and Jon blinks.

Martin is standing before him. He’s wearing something out of another time, a costume of silken breeches with a well-cut waistcoat of a rich, opalescent blue. There’s a puffy cravat hugging his neck, and polished buckled shoes on his feet. Jon almost expects him to be wearing a wig, but his hair is the one thing that’s been left untouched, hanging loose around his chin.

“Martin?” Jon asks.

Martin seems to take him in, his eyes running slowly down Jon’s body, lingering at his wrists, his waist, his thighs. It’s a bold sort of move, one that Martin would never be half so blatant about if he were awake.

“You, er. Look nice,” Martin says, and Jon glances down at himself.

He’s sure that moments ago he’d been wearing the same thing he’d worn to the office, shabby coat, mostly clean shirt, a pair of nondescript trousers that didn’t have any stains. But now, he finds himself in a dress. The gown is long and brilliantly red, the skirts heavy around his thighs. There are embroidered patterns reminiscent of roses along the bodice and down the front of his petticoat.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, still staring. Experimentally, he moves his hips, and finds that the skirts swish obligingly with the movement.

“Yes, well,” Martin murmurs, cheeks flushing horribly. “You always did look rather good in red.”

“In red-” Jon repeats in horror. “Martin, I’m in a gown.”

Favorite dialogue (excerpt):

“Are you ever going to stop looking for me?” Akmazian asks him one night.

Ryan is tired. Akmazian is a shadowed figure in the dark that he tries not to look at too closely, because if he does, Akmazian will be gone.

“Maybe,” Ryan tells him, and turns over onto his side. Away from the shadow, the ghost.

The bed dips under the weight of a person who isn’t really there, and Ryan can feel Akmazian’s breath on the back of his neck, warm and damp.

“Don’t touch me,” Ryan says, and means, I don't want this to end yet.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, darlin',” Akmazian murmurs back, then drags his lips over the back of his neck anyway, just to be contrary. Ryan swallows, his throat dry, tongue thick in his mouth. He clenches his fingers in the sheets, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that his vision stains red behind his eyelids.

“Please,” Ryan says.

“You really should stop looking for me,” Akmazian tells him, fingers creeping across Ryan’s ribcage, mapping the architecture of his ribs.

“I know.”

“You’re never going to find me.”

Ryan laughs. “Never say never.”

There is silence behind him and then, “Ryan. Please. You’re hurting yourself.”

Ryan trembles a little when a hand lands on his hip, just this side of too solid.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re hurting the stars.”

Ryan is silent for a moment. Then, “I just miss you.”

A sigh.

“I know,” Akmazian murmurs, and leans over to place a kiss on Ryan’s forehead. “I miss you too.”

Ryan opens his eyes, turns to look, and like always, Akmazian is gone.

“Look,” Potter says, audibly slurring. “I’ve had an idea.”

Draco crosses his arms. “And what, pray tell, is this idea of yours, Potter?”

Potter leans forward, using a hand to prop himself up, until he’s well into Draco’s personal space. He smells like beer and whiskey, and his cheeks and jaw are more beard than stubble.

“Break your curse with me,” he breathes, a hand settling atop Draco’s blanket-clad knee.

Draco swallows. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“No, look,” Potter says, leaning in even closer, eyes a bit wild. “We can just… you know.”

“No, Potter,” Draco tells him. “I don’t know.”

But he does. He really does.

“You know,” Potter says again. “Shag it out.”

“I think that you’re confusing things again,” Draco says tiredly. He sets the book on the nightstand next to him. “Remember the terms of the curse? Love, Potter. Not sex.”

Potter’s nose wrinkles. “But sex is part of love. Usually, anyway. It’ll work, I know it.”

“It won’t,” Draco insists, slapping Potter’s hand away when it begins to wander up his thigh. “Do you really think that I didn’t shag my wife before she left me? Because I did. We tried for years. Years, Potter. Trust me, if the curse were going to break because of a fuck, it would have happened well before now.”

Potter blinks at him, his eyes wide. There’s a ruddy flush on his cheeks, and Draco’s not sure if he likes it.

“We could at least try,” Potter says, almost gently. He doesn’t touch Draco again, but he looks like he wants to, hand trembling where it lays on the bedspread.

It feels like there’s glass in Draco’s throat. He is so, so tempted. Here is what he wanted - or at least part of it - Potter in his bed begging to fuck him, and he’s going to have to send him away.

“I think you should leave,” he tells him, and Potter’s mouth shuts with a click.

Favorite lines (excerpt):

“Relax,” he croons, stroking her fingers before he pulls away. “Your secret is safe with me. Most of this crowd knows that I’m not on speaking terms with that side of my family. They won’t suspect you because of me.”

Her face is flushed, either from rage or humiliation. Possibly both.

“So you-”

“Yes,” he says, fingers dropping to caress the fabric of her gown, swirling a thumb around the sweeping petals of an embroidered rose. His gaze is sly, a bit predatory when he glances back up at her. “I know what you have under this pretty skirt of yours.”

Rey’s breath catches, and she feels something- a slow trickle of heat seeping in to pool around her navel. She shifts, thighs sliding together, and hopes that he can’t smell her.

“Just as I know exactly what you’re doing right now,” she tells him in a hard whisper, jerking away from his grip on her elbow.

His eyes widen, affecting a look of innocence - a ‘who me?’ - that isn’t quite as effective when his lips are also curling up into a slow, pleased smirk.

“And what exactly am I doing?” he asks, his eyes laughing at her.

She glares at him. That seems to be enough of a reply, because he chuckles before taking possession of her arm again and pulling her smoothly towards the dance floor. Once they’ve reached the edge of it, he stops, dropping her elbow in favor of dipping into a low, courtly bow.

He looks up at her from under heavy lids, his hair sweeping forward to frame his face. “May I have this dance?”

The dance floor is crowded, full to the brim of masked people sweeping by in jewel-bright dresses and dark suits. She knows not to - knows that this place is a lot like fae courts of old. You don’t eat the food, you don’t drink the wine, and you definitely don’t dance.

But she’s already drank the wine, so she might as well dance.

The ship wrecks several hundred miles off of the coast of Karnaca. The storm that ends them is a rare sort, fiercer than most, a huge bank of dark clouds that seems to come from the void itself, blooming on the horizon like a warning. The lightning cracks the world asunder, thunder deafening, but it's the wind and waves that will always be a ship’s downfall.

Corvo watched the wave approach, saw its frothing white caps and the way it had stretched, higher and higher, until it loomed over the ship.

They never had a chance, and by the time the wave came crashing down, Corvo was already holding his breath.

Much of what he remembers after are mere snippets: the gulping suck of the water around him, broken pieces of the ship spinning by along with those of the crew who were unlucky enough to be caught by the ship’s pull, sucked down into the void, devoured by the whale god himself. He remembers his first gasp of air once he’d surfaced, the tang of brine and salt heavy on his tongue as wave after wave battered his body.

He doesn’t think that most of the crew survived the first few minutes much less the whole night, and he is certainly alone when the sun blossoms on the horizon hours later, clinging to a piece of ship the size of his torso and kicking relentlessly towards the dawn.

Corvo grew up on the coast, his hair stiff with salt from the ocean breeze. He grew up in and out of the water, hauling cargo or gutting fish on the docks. He’s familiar with the ocean - how the pull of the tides work, which days its best to avoid the dock, how to escape the sea’s wrath when a riptide or an undercurrent tries its damndest to drown you.

So he knows that his chances of making it to land are slim. But Corvo has always been stubborn, his legs have always been strong, and his story is far from finished.

Stiles buys a house in Virginia. It’s a modest thing close to Quantico, but not too close, tucked away into the heart of the wooded Appalachians. The bones of the house is all stonework and sturdy dark wood, a rickety wraparound porch bracketing the house on all sides. The first thing that he’d bought for it were two overpriced rocking chairs he’d gotten from the nearest Cracker Barrel.

Over the course of a year, he fills the house with things. A soft, dark gray sofa. Several solid end tables. A pair of emerald lamps he gets from an antique shop. A moss-green throw that is warm as a hug when it’s wrapped around his shoulders in the dead of winter. His living room is a bit too mountain man chic, but he likes the way that it looks when he’s coming home from a long day at the academy, warm and inviting.

He gets his bed set from a woodworker a couple dozen miles down the road, a man with a gruff bristled gray face and a warm smile, who trades Stiles the custom set for some warding and a couple bottles of what he calls, ‘miracle elixir.’ The set is sturdy mahogany, a pair of wolves carved across the top of the curving headboard, runes filling the gaps between them. The chest of drawers and dresser are just as solid, and Stiles has to hire movers to help him get everything back to the house.

The bulky rednecks decked out in worn flannel that help him with it carefully avoid looking at the runes of the headboard, their eyes skittering away from the carvings like frightened rabbits. They exchange apprehensive looks when they see the herbs drying over the sink in his kitchen, but to their credit, stay quiet and hightail it out of the place when he pays them. Here in the Appalachian backwoods, no one talks about magic, but everyone knows it exists.

Stiles has people over every once in a while - flies his dad and Scott in from California, has Lydia drive down from Boston, or Kira from North Carolina - but mostly, he’s alone. It’s a strange thing to get used to, the silence of the nights out here, where the night sky is bright and clear enough to see the stars above him, not a hint of light pollution to be seen, and the trees rustling in a quiet wind is almost louder than the hoots and hollers of the local wildlife.

He’d thought it would be lonely, and to be fair, sometimes it is.

Some nights he comes home and collapses back onto his sofa, and would do anything to be right down the road from Scott and Melissa and his dad again. He has days where he craves Melissa’s pozole or his dad’s meatloaf so badly that he can taste the heat of it on his tongue.

But mostly, the quiet is nice.

He cooks himself soups that simmer in the slow cooker while he’s at the academy and roasts that he makes on the weekends. He experiments with food the way he never used to back in Beacon Hills, where he had his dad’s heart to worry about if he made anything, and fast food which was easier to grab when he didn’t. He takes a world tour through his kitchen - homemade pierogi, hearty paella, steaming pirozhki, spicy-smelling curries, and hand rolled sushi. The first time that he makes his own bread in the ancient oven that came with the house, the smell of it coming fresh out of the oven is so good that he nearly cries.

It’s three winters into living there before he hears a scratching at his door in the middle of the night, and when he goes to investigate, finds a large black wolf on his doorstep.

It’s favoring one of its paws, dark fur matted on one side of its head where he can dimly make out a sluggishly bleeding gash. It blinks at him, eyes glowing a bright, familiar blue, and Stiles spends a minute watching it before he smiles and steps aside.

Fic goals: Hey Heather, it was only 800 words, but you did technically write something original. Now, let’s do something original that’s a little longer. And while we’re at it, let’s do something novel length.

#heather says what #heather writes #2019 #new year's memes

8 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 6 months ago

Text

So. A few months back, I reached out to Ivy to ask if they would be interested in doing a collaboration with me, with the Harringrove Cafe. I, like many of you I am sure, am obsessed with Great British Bake Off (because what's not to love) and one day I got to thinking how funny it would be if Billy & Steve held a baking competition at the cafe.

The long & short of it is, Ivy was kind enough to let me borrow their world and bring it to life in the Sims in order to tell that story. In July, alongside the story the Cafe was to host a menu featuring the contestants dishes, with the fandom casting their "votes" for the winning dishes through their orders.

With the cafe closed, obviously this event will not be occurring and the story is currently unfinished; but I am so grateful for all the work that was put into the cafe, and to @half-oz-eddie for allowing me to play in their sandbox, and I guess I am just happy that this exists and want to share it. I had such a great time and I'm proud of what we accomplished. I hope others enjoy it too.

I've tried to think of creative ways to share this but my brain is overworked and it's not that serious lol, so I'm just going to share the finished chapters as they would originally have appeared.

So onto the story....

The Great Baking Contest: A Harringrove Sim Story

Copperdale. Early in the evening on their way to dinner, Steve and his partner Billy pass the old library - the one that had fallen into the mysterious sinkhole that opened up in the middle of downtown. It has been months since the incident, but the site is still a wreck.

Billy: It's a shame the town doesn't make enough money off these tourists to fix it. This eyesore is driving away our business.

But that gives Steve an idea. A brilliant idea.

Jonathan: Wait. So you want to host a baking competition?

Steve: Yes! To save the library.

Argyle: Man, that place nearly killed us! I say we should leave it for the sinkhole gods. Think about it. What are the chances a sinkhole would open up in the middle of California? Spooky!

Eddie: Weird things do seem to happen to us a lot.

Nancy: But the library is really important to the community. It helps people get jobs, and gave kids from under privileged communities resources they don't get anywhere else.

Steve: Exactly!

Eddie: But a bake off? How would it even work?

Steve: We'll televise it on Good Morning With Nancy, and sell tickets to the live event. And for those who can't afford the ticket, we'll offer a specialized menu at the cafe - proceeds from the sale will go toward the library fund. It's a great idea. Right?

Jonathan: I just want to know how you convinced Billy to go along with this.

Earlier that evening....

Billy: What's in it for me?

Steve: I'll let you top for a week.

Billy: You sure you can survive a whole week Pretty Boy?

Billy: You had to be there.

Jonathan: What does that mean?

Eddie: It means you need Stevie boys ass.

Part 2

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #Harringrove cafe #The Harringrove Bake Off #Harringrove sims #Stranger sims

21 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 6 months ago

Text

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 4

Copperdale studios, early morning.

The commercial break ends and we're back with Nancy and her guest's Steve & Billy on the couch of her morning show.

Nancy: Welcome back! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this is 'Good Morning With Nancy'. Before the break my guests, the owners of Harringrove Cafe, revealed the first two teams in Copperdale's very first amateur baking competition. But there's one more team left to introduce. Steve, Billy, everyone is wondering who made the final cut!

For the first time Billy looks almost more excited than Steve.

Billy: Team 3 is the best team in my opinion. There's Robin Buckley, of Dirty Paws training center; who is a bit of a spazz yeah, but is actually pretty good in the kitchen. Although I still say it's weird she cooks in the same kitchen where she makes dog treats.

Steve: Hey! It's not like she doesn't wash everything in between.

Billy: Whatever you say. I don't know if I trust it. But I'd trust her partner Chrissy Cunningham with anything. She's like, my favorite person.

Steve pouts. He seems a tad jealous.

Steve: You can't have favorites Billy!

Billy: Oh please. Everyone knows Chrissy is my best friend. Best friend. Favorite. What's the difference?

Steve: Yeah but, people will think their team has an unfair advantage if you go around telling everyone that!

Nancy: Hmmm... but isn't Robin your best friend, Steve?

Steve: For the duration of the competition I have decided that I have no friends. I'm 100% impartial.

Billy rolls his eyes as Nancy laughs.

Nancy: Aren't you two banned from the Karaoke machine for life because you tried to sing that Toy Story song in Russian and wouldn't let anyone else have a turn?

Billy starts to giggle at the memory and Steve blushes.

Steve: Okay. Maybe it's a good thing the final vote is up to the public.

Nancy: Yes, I think so. But the question on my mind is how did you convince her to get involved with a very public show like this? Robin is known to be very camera shy.

Billy: Yeah, I've been wondering that too.

Steve: Well...

A few weeks earlier....

Steve walks through the park on a cloudy afternoon with his best friend Robin. With them 'Captain Roger' an excitable boxer breed that Robin is pet sitting for a client. Steve has been trying to convince Robin to participate in the Bake Off but Robin is reluctant. The idea of being on TV makes her too nervous.

Roger gets a scent in his nose and starts to run ahead. Steve notices a sign in the park reminding people to leash their pets.

Steve: Hey, is he okay off leash?

Robin: Of course. It's part of the training. I like this park because it's usually empty this time of day and we can work on heel and return commands without being disturbed too much.

Steve was never allowed to have pets growing up and is always very fascinated by Robin's work with animals. If only Billy weren't allergic.

Steve: He really comes back on command? That's so cool. What a good boi! You're a good boi aren't you Roger.

... In the studio

Billy: *sighs* You tried to pet it didn't you?

Steve: What! Why would you think that?

... back in the park

Steve goes to pet Roger, forgetting what Robin told him about Roger disliking people reaching for him suddenly. Robin cries for him to wait but it's too late. The fearful dog goes on the attack and Robin gets bit separating them.

Steve: Robin! You're bleeding.

Worse! Roger has run off. Along with Robin's paycheck and possibly the reputation of her business!!!

Steve: Lets get you to the doctor. Thank god the clinic is close.

Robin: Forget about me! Get the dog!! Roger! Roger here boy!

Steve: Stop, before you hurt yourself. I'll get him and meet you at the clinic.

Robin: Are you sure? What if he tries to bite you again.

Steve: That was my fault before. I won't forget to go slow this time. Just trust me, alright?

Robin: I trust you. You better find him Dingus!

Later at Copperdale Health Clinic ...

Robin sits on an exam bed while nurse Chrissy cleans her wounds and wraps them to keep them from getting infected.

Chrissy: There. You're all done, Robin.

Robin: That wasn't so bad.

Chrissy: It's a good thing you didn't need any stitches. But what's wrong, Robin? You look upset.

Worried, Robin gets up and begins to pace.

Robin: I'm worried about Steve. I mean he's a complete dingus for forgetting Roger is people shy, but I still don't want him to become a chew toy. He's probably puppy chow by now.

Chrissy: I'm sure he's fine Robin. Steve's always come through for you before hasn't he?

Robin: *sigh* That's true I guess.

DING. Over the sounds of the busy clinic an elevator arrives down the hall.

Chrissy: Robin look!

It's Steve, and trotting happily at his side is Roger. Robin isn't going to have to explain things to his owners after all.

Steve: You owe me big Robin.

Robin: Oh as if! This was all your fault to begin with. If anything I owe Chrissy. She's the one who patched me up and kept me from worrying about your stupid ass.

Steve and Chrissy share a look and Chrissy's smile turns just a little bit evil.

Chrissy: True. And I know exactly how you can repay me.

... Back in the studio

Billy: If I didn't know better I'd accuse you of blackmail. Did you two plan that whole thing?

Steve: Slander. I would never put someone in harms way just to achieve my goals Billy.

Billy: Yeah you would. Does Christmas of 86 ring a bell?

Steve: That was an accident! How was I supposed to know a moose was that dangerous?!

Nancy has heard this story so many times. Desperate to save her show before it can devolve into another retelling she jumps in.

Nancy: Let's meet the teams, why don't we?! Joining us on the stage this morning is team #1 Max Mayfield and El Hopper! Give it up for team one.

The audience cheers as Max & El walk out from backstage.

El: Thank you for having us!

Max: Yes. And that moose thing was half your fault Billy. I told you not to feed it peanut butter!

Billy: It was a baby Max! Was I supposed to let it starve?

Nancy: *raising her voice* Argyle Beachem and Eddie Munson of 2nd Grove, everybody. Come on out Team Two!

The crowd roars as Eddie and Argyle appear, waving to the crowd and posing for the flashing of lights as Eddie's fans start to rapidly take pictures. Laughing Argyle poses beside him and encourages them to get his good side.

Nancy: *smiling* And last but never least, give it up for Chrissy Cunningham and Robin Buckley. Our Team Three!

Nancy: That's all the time we have today folks. Tune in next week as we kick off The Harringrove Cafe: Amateur Bake Off, and watch these six talented competitors compete for the crown of Copperdale's most talented amateur baking duo! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this has been, Good Morning With Nancy!

The end...

This marks the end of the completed chapters. I will share some stills from the baking competition because they're super cute, but sadly I don't have time to finish the story. Thanks for joining me on the ride and I hope y'all had a good time!

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #stranger things #Harringrove cafe bake off #harringrove cafe

8 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 6 months ago

Text

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 3

Copperdale Studios, early morning.

The studio is full as Nancy hosts her morning show for channel 4. Her guests are Steve & Billy. As the commercial break dies down, Jonathan gives the signal they are going live.

Nancy: Hello! Welcome back! I'm Nancy Wheeler and you're watching 'Good Morning With Nancy'. Joining me on the couch today are Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, the co-owners of Copperdale's very own Harringrove Cafe, and this summer the judges of Copperdale's very first Armature Bake Off!

She pauses to allow her guests to wave to the audience. They give an enthusiastic cheer.

Nancy: Steve, Billy, thank you for coming on.

Steve: We're glad to be here!

Nancy: since the announcement we've been flooded with calls and messages from folks who want to know more about the competition: where can they watch, how can they apply. But my sources tell me that you've already narrowed down the teams?

Steve: Yep that's right. We personally invited six of Copperdale's most talented amateur bakers to compete - who also happen to be really good friends of the cafe!

Nancy: Do you think that's fair though? It sounds like there's a lot of talented folks in the area who would love to be considered.

Billy shrugs.

Billy: Our business our rules. We don't work with just anybody.

Steve: For good reason! We've collaborated on menus in the past with many talented individuals and we've always been careful to maintain a high standard. So for this endeavor it just made sense to reach out to those folks.

Nancy: Well, viewers are excited to hear more about the teams. So lets get into it!

Cut away to montage

Team 1. El & Max

Most people can't tell that Billy & Max are siblings just by looking at them but five minutes in each other's company usually does the trick. Max and her best friend Eleven are local college students and when they aren't focused on school, or helping out at the cafe, they can be found hanging out in the game room at Argyle's Pizza Palace. Max loves to whip up tasty treats in her dorm room, and her additions to the menu have always been a hit. When she heard that the winner of the competition would get their own personalized menu....

Cut back to Studio

Billy: Wait a minute! What did you tell her?!

Steve: Lets talk about team #2! You guys are gonna love the next team.

The camera cuts away again

Team 2. Argyle & Eddie

Steve and Billy's friend Argyle is known for the best pizza in Copperdale. Argyle got his start as a delivery boy and inherited the business after his uncle retired. The Pizza Palace has flourished under his leadership and has become Copperdale's go to spot for game night and greasy eats to satisfy anybody's munchies! The other half of this dream team duo is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of 2nd Grave. The band started right here in Copperdale! They can often be heard practicing in the backroom of the record shop where Eddie works. But now that the band is taking off, Eddie probably won't be seen behind the counter too much longer. A lesser known fact about him is his secret passion for baking soft fudgy brownies that will take you out of this world!

Cut back to studio.

Nancy: Yes. Viewers will be happy to know that one of those members includes local rock legend, Eddie Munson of 2nd Grave. Is it true?

Billy: Unfortunately.

Nancy: After their single 'squeeze' reached the billboard top ten this summer, 2nd Grave has seen a great deal of sudden success. How did you convince Mr. Munson to take time out for this endeavor?

Steve: It was all Billy.

Billy: Yeah he pimps me out.

Nancy laughs nervously and tries to steer the conversation back to something more suitable for her younger viewers.

Nancy: I'm sure you're kidding.

Steve: No, really! Truthfully Billy is very good with people. He can be very persuasive...

A few weeks earlier....

Eddie and his band have regular gigs on Saturday night at Copperdale's only nightclub. It's a good opportunity to ambush him, Steve thinks.

But things don't go exactly as planned. Heather gets a little too drunk, and Steve leaves to make sure Robin and her girlfriend get home safely.

But Billy's got this covered. All he has to do is remind Eddie of how important this project is to Steve. Munson is a total marshmallow under all that leather.

Back in the studio...

Nancy: Aww, it sounds like you guys have some really great friends. It's nice knowing that you can always count on them to be there.

Steve smiles and Billy shrugs, looking a little embarrassed with the sentimental turn of the conversation. Nancy turns towards the camera.

Nancy: Coming up, we'll reveal the final team and meet the amateur bakers in person. After this commercial break!

To be continued in part 4

#Harringrove #harringrove cafe #Harringrove bake off #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Eddie Munson #Max Mayfield #Eleven Hopper #argyle stranger things #sims story #Harringrove Sims #Stranger Sims #HG Bake Off Chapter 3

10 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 1 year ago

Text

WIP Tag Game

tagged by @spaceofentropy ❤️

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Um I absolutely will not be tagging as many people as I have WIPs cause honestly we would be here all year lol. And I am mostly limiting this to my fan fiction folder because again we’d be here forever if I didn’t. And these are limited to the ones with outlines started.

In no particular order.

0. Big Bang Fic (zero because it’s almost not a WIP anymore) 🥹

1. To B, With Love

2.All The Kings Men

3. Blinding Baby Like City Lights

4. She’s Always A Woman

5. Love Ain’t Fair At All

6. News Paper AU

7. Dragon Shifter AU

8. Runner Steve Au

9. Vampire Apocalypse

10. Stepford Wives AU

11. Military Brats AU

12. Angels & Demons AU

13. Mafia AU

14. Bridgerton AU

15. Star Wars AU

16. The Bachelor AU

17. Gender fluid Billy - She Lays Me Down Soft & Sweet sequal

18. Star Trek AU

19. Destined - The Wish Your Heart Makes sequel

20. Rock Music AU

21. Werewolf boyfriends Full fic

22. Steve for Senator - Fake relationship Au

23. Ballet School Au

24. Moonwood ficlets

Non Harringrove:

1. Caligator - Virtual Reality Sim

2. Caligator - Dom/Sub Billy owns a leather bar

3. Caligator - Slave fic hurt comfort Dystopian

Absolutely zero pressure tags: @adelacreations @dragonflylady77 @passivenovember @brightside-of-the-upsidedown @robthegoodfellow @half-oz-eddie @intothedysphoria @shieldofiron @thediktatortot @neonponders @medusapelagia @martyreasemymind

#harringrove #caligator #WIP tag game

13 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 2 years ago

Text

Scenes From: Harringrove Legacy Save

The Harrington Family Save is a family legacy sims save based off of my a/b/o fic, “The Wish Your Heart Makes”.

The goal: Successfully run a business and raise three generations of sims.

The first generation: Billy is a young adult sim. He is married to Steve another young adult sim. Together they are starting a company.

The Second generation: Daisy is a child sim around 9 years old. Poppy a toddler sim around 4 years old. Billy and Steve agreed on two children and with a new company getting off the ground now is not the time for more... but there’s always the chance.

Milestones:

Billy & Steve made enough money in their careers to buy and restore their dream home. It has become their little slice of heaven in the big city.

With enough Simoleons in the bank to start their own company, they have quit their salaried jobs and registered their new business H&H Homes with the labor office.

Both sims are passionate about saving the old houses that have fallen to neglect around Simsdom and making them into ready homes for new families. But it will take a lot of capital and partnering with a top notch real estate agent.

Her parents were occupied when the realtor arrived so their daughter Daisy took it upon herself to keep him entertained until they were ready.

The meeting went great and the agent is going to send a list of potential properties to buy in the next couple of days. Steve got to work updating the company blog while Billy gave their toddler a bath. Team work makes the dream work!

#fizzi plays the sims #the wish your heart makes #the sims 4 #family legacy save #alpha beta omega #Harringrove Sims #Steve was giving Billy a blowie in their office I kid you not #this is why we can't take you anywhere #poor daisy had to great the real estate man and tell him a bunch of stories #Y'all are supposed to be businessmen!#😄#I am leaving it up to fate but I am betting on more kids #something tells me

11 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 2 years ago

Text

On Eddie x Jason.

This post is literally me just admitting that in my Harringrove Family Legacy save, Eddie and Jason have their own household and about a million babies. Feel free to keep scrolling.

This is a “deep dark” secret admission because the character of Jason Carver makes me Ted Talk Mad and everything to do with his role in S4 steps on my black girl trauma. It is what it is and like I said, I could give a Ted Talk on it, but that’s another post. This post is about me creating virtual dolls and making them play happy families because that’s something my soul needs. I’m here to verify that humans are complex and contrary individuals, because the ex-evangelical in me hungers for the very public, very messy, very gay awakening of this character. Church mouse to proud heathen stories are my jam. So I made toast in the sims and put jam on it just to see how i’d feel. Picture me crying into my toast because it’s delicious with jam, just like every other time. 😂 The betrayal!

Jokes aside, I don’t know if I will ever be able to comfortably engage with the rest of fandom enough to go all in with shipping this pair, cause to be frank that’s just asking for more black girl trauma and we’re not about that in this house. But their sims are hella cute and it makes me feel good, creating a story where Jason gets to grow up and change for the better instead of being sliced in half by a monster. I guess I am just a solid believer that teenagers deserve the chance to change no matter how bad you think they are.🤷🏾‍♀️

#fizzi plays the sims #Eddie X Jason #le sigh #the character tag was a fucking mine field for racist takes and white saviorism on top of anti-Billy nonsense #I haven’t really swam in those waters since right after s4 dropped though so maybe it has changed #But I was not about to subject myself to that on the daily lol you can keep all that #jason carver #eddie munson

9 notes · View notes

thissortofsorcery · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 814 times in 2022

That's 814 more posts than 2021!

32 posts created (4%)

782 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shieldofiron

@heartbuckley

@ariesbilly

@imsodishy

@vhagar-apologist

I tagged 129 of my posts in 2022

#harringrove - 35 posts

#billy hargrove - 25 posts

#billy x steve - 9 posts

#mine - 7 posts

#billy antis dni - 5 posts

#sorcery says - 5 posts

#steve harrington - 4 posts

#personal - 4 posts

#max mayfield - 3 posts

#so cute - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#i’m not sure what the rules are for interacting with minors in fandom are but let it be known i’m 27 if that makes anyone uncomfortable

My Top Posts in 2022:

There could be several reasons for this:

-Billy is becoming too independent from Neil;

-Someone questioned a bruise Billy didn't cover up well enough and now it's all over the internet;

-Billy was caught with a guy he was seeing;

-Billy's mom saw his TikToks and tried to get in touch, Neil had been keeping him from her;

His channel was pretty good. Pretty stable. Then he tried to stream Blair Witch about a week after everything and had a panic attack on stream. Things didn't get better after that.

And then Tommy H. just has to take pictures of them, make a damn video, post it to Instagram and TikTok and tag them both. Of course it goes viral.

Billy spends a full week in a state of panic. He fully expects Harrington to press charges now.

(Steve, similarly, is panicking. He streams family friendly content now. He can't just get into fights. He can't stream until his face heals as it is.)

(The same happens to Steve.)

Steve hunts down and finds Billy's old surfing board that Neil sold and buys it back.

The climax would be, of course, getting Billy out of Neil's house. Getting Neil arrested. So Billy can be free.

(Feel free to explore and play with this AU as you like!!)

225 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

Billy tried not to, is the thing. But it’s like his body has a mind of its own. It’s often like that when it comes to Harrington.

It was an accident at first. Harrington tripped just as Billy had been walking by, and his chest had crashed straight into Billy’s. The surprise of it had nearly sent them both to the ground, but Billy had managed to hold them both up somehow, grip tight on Harrington’s elbows.

He was so warm.

Billy had shoved him off, barked out a “Watch it, Harrington!” and walked away.

A month later, Billy can’t call it an accident anymore.

If Billy times it just right, he’s walking back from the nook where the vending machines are hidden just as Harrington’s walking towards them. More often than not, Harrington will trip on the uneven tile or be distracted with conversation. More often than not, he’ll bump into Billy.

Billy’s started to count down the minutes to this accidental touch everyday. He tries not to. But when the hands of the clock start inching closer to their lunch period he starts remembering it: the warmth of Harrington’s skin through his clothes. The hair on his arms when his sleeves are rolled up. The hardness of his bicep when Billy grips it to hold them both up. If he’s lucky, Steve might steady himself with a hand on Billy’s chest, right where his buttons are undone.

Billy shifts in his seat.

He didn’t use to be like this, during basketball season. Now that that’s over he finds himself looking for Harrington everywhere, hungry for a glimpse of his mop of brown hair, craving accidental touches.

Not so accidental, on Billy’s part.

Ms. Garret’s still talking about homework, at the front of the class. The clock hands are ticking, always closer to lunch, but never fast enough.

Billy’s leg bounces under his desk. The teacher’s going on about exercise sheets Billy’s not gonna turn in. He leans back in his chair, looks out the window. Casual. He’s not antsy. He’s not.

The bell rings.

Billy’s out of his seat like a shot. Harrington’s classroom is closer to the cafeteria. Billy takes large strides to the cafeteria, doesn’t stop by his locker on the way.

When he crosses the wide cafeteria doors, he slows. Tries to pinpoint where Harrington is. Like a sixth sense, he sees him a few feet behind him out the corner of his eye.

Harrington’s wearing the red sweater today, sleeves rolled up. His hair looks extra floppy. He’s talking to Wheeler, pointing to the vending machines.

Billy sets off.

It’s quick work. Shove coins in. Get soda. Watch out the corner of his eye for Harrington.

Here he comes.

Billy turns around.

One step. Two. Harrington’s sneaker catches on the broken tile of the cafeteria floor, and he crashes into Billy, a quiet “shit” murmured under his breath. Billy grabs onto him, one hand on a lean bicep, the other on a hairy forearm. Harrington gets his feet under him, but they’re still pressed close, hips nearly touching. Harrington’s hand is splayed on his chest, fingers wide, nudging under his open shirt.

“Watch it, Harrington,” Billy says. Not barks, not yells. Just says. His voice is rough, like he gargled glass. Their faces are close.

“Sorry,” Harrington mumbles, face going pink. He’s just an inch or two taller than Billy, but it feels like nothing. They’re so close. Harrington’s eyes flicker to Billy’s mouth, so quickly Billy might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been watching Harrington’s face so intently.

Without his permission, his thumb strokes Harrington’s forearm. Steve breathes in sharply.

Somewhere beyond them, someone drops their lunch tray, and the clatter lurches them apart. Like they’d never touched at all, Billy heads to the cafeteria doors, Steve continues to the vending machines.

At the threshold, Billy glances over his shoulder. He can’t help it.

Harrington’s heading back to Wheeler, Coke in hand. He sidesteps the broken tile expertly.

When Billy looks up at Harrington’s face, he’s looking back at him, with a little smirk on his face. It can’t be- Can it?

Billy shakes his head. Nah. No way Harrington would go out of his way just to bump into Billy.

He goes to his car to smoke it off.

272 notes - Posted December 13, 2022

It takes a while for Billy to notice, but there’s something to the warm feeling that spreads across his chest whenever he sees Steve.

He knows he can’t get enough of Steve. Can’t get enough of how he looks at Billy from under his lashes when he’s flirting, of how he tosses his head back when he laughs, of the long line of his neck, of his moles.

But there’s something else to how their eyes meet across a room, a light to Steve’s eyes when they land on Billy, like-

It takes Billy a while to put his finger on it. It’s been a long time since someone’s looked happy to see him.

Every time Steve looks at him, it’s there. That glint in his eyes like, hey, there you are. It’s different than looking at Billy like he’s hot, Billy knows he’s smoking, but Steve looks at him like… Like his presence is something good. Like he wants him there.

Billy’s not used to that.

Steve’s sitting with Robin and Dustin in the corner booth at the diner when Billy comes in with Max, and he’s laughing at something they’re saying, but when his eyes land on Billy his whole face changes. His smile looks like it… grows, somehow.

He leans his whole body towards Billy and says,

“Billy, hey!” In that bright voice he gets when he’s happy, Steve’s happy.

Happy to see Billy walk in the door.

Billy’s sure his face is doing the goofiest, sappiest expression, looking back at Steve. Just grinning at each other like fools in the middle of the diner.

Just happy to be there, where the other is.

290 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

Billy’s just put his jacket back on. His boots go on next. His earring dangles in his ear with the movement, and his back and ass ache when he rises back up. Sore.

It’s dark in the entryway of Harrington’s house at three in the morning, quiet and still hours before the sun rises. Billy hadn’t meant to fall asleep. But Steve had barely rolled off of him, one leg tangled between his, nose in his hair, and Billy was so warm and comfortable- He hadn’t meant to. It was a mistake.

He shouldn’t be there when Harrington wakes up, Steve would regret it for sure.

Steve wouldn’t want anything serious with a guy. With Billy.

He’s got his keys out of his jacket pocket when he hears it,

“Where are you going?” Steve’s voice comes from the stairs, hoarse with sleep, making Billy jump.

Steve’s in the middle of the steps with only his underwear on, the line of hickeys down his chest and halfway to his stomach that Billy put there fully exposed, a grumpy confused frown on his face. Arms crossed like he’s cold.

“I’m just heading out,” Billy says softly, unwilling to break the cover of the dark. It feels like they’re inside a dome, here in the entryway, close together but far apart.

Steve comes down the steps slowly, and his feet barely make any noise on the carpet. Billy doesn’t look away from his eyes. They’re not clouded with sleep, anymore, and they’re honed in on Billy like lasers.

“It’s the middle of the night, man,” He says, like Billy hasn’t left in the dead of night countless times before. Like they’re not used to hookups in their cars.

“Yeah,” Billy steps back, because Steve just keeps coming closer. “I’ll get out of your hair, princess. Go back to bed.”

He means to say it mean, but it comes out- soft. Like a whisper.

“Billy,” Steve says, and he’s smiling. Why is he smiling.

Steve’s hand touches his chest where Billy didn’t bother to button his shirt, his pinky nudges a nipple on purpose. Billy’s breath hitches.

Billy knows his eyes are wide, his mouth is open. He looks up from Steve’s hand to his face, and Steve looks so fond, so- He’s looking from Billy’s eyes to his mouth like he wants to kiss him.

He does kiss him.

Billy drops his keys. The need to get his hands on Steve’s face is sudden, urgent, like he has to hold on to him or he’ll fade away, or change his mind. He needs to hold Steve’s face to his or he’ll lose the press of Steve’s soft lips, lose the tongue pressing in to curl against his own.

Steve’s hands are clutching at his jacket tightly, pulling Billy in at the same time his body wants to press Billy into the door. It takes Billy a minute to realize Steve is trying to yank off his jacket, pulling roughly at his shoulders. He has to let go of Steve’s face to take it off, but he does it one hand at a time, and he trades it for pressing biting kisses into Steve’s mouth at the same time. He’ll hold on with his teeth if he has to.

Distantly, he hears his keys jangle against the floor, like they’ve been kicked away.

“Stay,” Steve pulls back to pant into his mouth. His eyes look right into Billy’s. There’s a look to them, half-scared, half-shy. Steve’s hands are tight on Billy’s waist. “Stay with me.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of Billy’s mouth, licks between his lips. Billy surges up, catches his bottom lip in his teeth, bruises a kiss on his mouth so intense Steve’s head moves with his nod.

“Yeah,” He says, and rests his forehead on Steve’s. Their noses brush together. “Okay.”

333 notes - Posted December 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Billy doesn’t know it yet, but a lot of things in his life change because of Steve Harrington.

Billy’s hiding in the library when he overhears it. He’s ditching calculus because he can’t stand Mr. Hermann’s voice on a good day, the way the old man talks like he’s shouting, and Billy’s head is still ringing from where Neil hit it on a shelf last night because he was late getting Maxine home for dinner.

Billy would normally spend his voluntary free period smoking outside, but it’s fucking snowing today- just one more thing to be grateful about December in goddamn Hawkins, Indiana.

That’s why he’s sitting at a table that’s kind of out of the way in the library, hidden behind the biology section. He yanked out a book about the ocean to look at the pictures to distract himself until next period.

That’s when he hears them talking. Harrington and Wheeler.

“Mike says Dustin’s driving him crazy,” Wheeler’s saying softly, from across the shelves hiding Billy. “He won’t shut up about you.”

“We’ve been hanging out,” Harrington says, just as quietly, and his voice sounds like it’s coming out through a smile. Billy tries not to picture it in his mind. “He’s cool, you know, for a middle schooler.”

Harrington says it like he’s annoyed, but his tone can’t be anything but fond. It’s ridiculous. Billy’s seen Harrington driving around the dweebs Maxine’s friends with, has seen them at the arcade and at the diner, so he knows Harrington’s been hanging around them like an overgrown mother hen. Billy can’t make sense of it.

“You seem better,” Wheeler says, after a moment of silence, and there’s something hesitant about it. “Lately, I mean. Lighter.”

Harrington doesn’t answer, and Billy wishes he could see what his face looks like. He’d noticed Harrington had been looking rough since November, even after the bruising had faded, with bags under his eyes and hollow cheeks. A blank stare, like he was somewhere else in his head.

“Dustin’s a great kid,” Harrington repeats, kind of distantly. Then in a rush he says, like the words will disappear if he doesn’t get them out, “He’s been calling me in the walkie some nights. He can’t sleep either.”

“Oh, Steve…”

“So we talk a lot. About, you know… Being there for him, it helps.”

They go silent. It’s clear something happened to the kid, and to Harrington, and Billy doesn’t care- except something happened to Max, too. She’s been quiet, and spooked, since That Night. Billy wonders if whatever happened to them happened then, after they left him drugged on the floor.

“I always wanted a little brother,” Harrington cuts through the silence. Wheeler makes a soft noise like she’s listening. “I hated being alone all the time. I thought it would be like having a friend for life, you know. Then I got older, and my dad… I don’t think… I think that if I had a brother, my dad would make us resent each other,” He says, like a confession, and it sits like a stone in Billy’s stomach.

“You can’t know that, Steve…” Wheeler says softly.

“No, I know. It’s just a feeling,” Billy hears Harrington shift, then the shelf wobbles, like he’s leaning on it. “You know what my dad’s like, with me. I keep thinking, if I had a brother… He’d be comparing us all the time. Pitting us against each other. Makes us tell on each other. To make sure we were alone. I don’t know,” He huffs, and mocks himself with a little laugh. “Like you said, it’s stupid.”

Billy has to swallow past a lump in his throat. His hands are clenched into fists. It sounds a little too familiar, Harrington’s feelings about his father. Neil knows how to be an asshole too, especially about Maxine, and being a good big brother. Makes a point of disciplining Billy about it. Except all it does is make him hate Max.

“Maybe it’s not,” Wheeler says, and her voice is firm this time. Maybe she’s holding Harrington’s hand, even. “He really is an asshole.”

Harrington snorts, but it’s still a little sad, “Thanks, Nance.”

Billy sinks lower in his seat, careful not to make noise. He feels suddenly exhausted. The ringing in his head feels worse than ever.

“This is better, with Dustin,” Harrington says. “He’s awesome. And the other kids too.”

And my dad can’t touch him, he doesn’t say, but Billy hears it all the same.

Eventually, Harrington and Wheeler leave and Billy’s alone again behind his bookshelves, with the marine biology book he hasn’t looked at in half an hour. Harrington’s words don’t leave him though.

Billy knows his resentment of Max mostly comes from how his dad treats her, he’s aware enough of that. He hates that she never suffers the consequences of the shit the does, that she can do no wrong in Neil’s eyes, that she and Susan make up Neil’s idea of a perfect family and Billy doesn’t.

It hadn’t occurred to Billy that Neil could be doing all of it deliberately. This whole time he thought his dad wanted him to like Max - wanted him to be a good big brother. He never thought it could be all a part of a different game, to make him hate Max and make Max hate him.

What was it that Harrington said? To make sure we were alone.

Easy to control.

That’s what Neil likes, isn’t it.

Billy ends up ditching the rest of the day. He can’t stomach the thought of sitting in a classroom listening to teachers droning on about shit while his head’s buzzing with memories trying to reorganize themselves. This can’t be right. He can’t have gotten it this wrong. Billy’s too old to be this dumb, to fall for this shit.

See the full post

418 notes - Posted December 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

4 notes · View notes