#I like it when Billy loses his powers and has to find a way to gain them back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cerealboxlore · 1 year

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I come to you with another WIP fic idea for our favorite Billy Batson

So. Y'all know Billy Batson, adorable, Sassy, homeless, secret champion of magic who can transform into an adult at any time. Respected member of the Justice League. Right? Think of him as a ten year old, been Captain Marvel for almost two years, is on top of his game! Well, he was, until a fight against Oggar, the wizard’s former disciple/apprentice rendered him without his divine magical powers, forcing him to transform back into his mortal form as Billy Batson--right in front of the Justice League! Oh no--

Thus, chaos ensued. Whilst Oggar disappeared from the battle with a cackling laughter, Billy struggled to transform back into Captain Marvel, feeling powerless and so vulnerable against the wide eyes of his co-workers who were feeling a mixed range of emotions from the reveal. Surprise. Anger. Betrayal. Silence. No one said anything for a clear minute. A full long minute where the only sounds came from Billy shouting the name of Shazam into the heavens and hells to conjure up any spark of magic he could muster. Billy's voice grew hoarse and rough, dry to the point he was losing his breath fast from how hard he was breathing, losing control of himself under all the stress. Finally, a hand is placed on his shoulder.

Batman's hand.

An emergency meeting is held back at the watch tower immediately. Not only is the subject of Oggar brought up and what he has planned, but primarily, Captain Marvel's true identity as Billy Batson. A ten year old who managed to infiltrate the ranks of the Justice League without anyone knowing.

Well. Batman knew. Of course Batman knew, he's BATMAN! But everyone else...Billy couldn't forget what they were yelling to him even if he tried.

"Irresponsible!"

"Idiotic!"

"Liar!"

"You betrayed our trust."

"Do you know how much danger you put yourself in, young man?!"

"Do you realize you could have died?! What were you thinking trying to play hero?"

Everything everyone said had stuck with him so harshly, Billy had to hold himself back from the river of tears threatening to come rolling down his face. He had a long day, a long, horrible fight against someone from the wizard's personal past, lost his powers, and now he was being interrogated by the Justice League. By his heroes.

Needless to say, the meeting ran on for much longer. They knew everything now, and Billy's status as a JL member was immediately put into suspension for the time being.

When the meeting was over, Billy didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't summon his form as the Champion of Magic anymore, his identity was shown to his idols without his permission, but also, Oggar got away. Oggar, the Wizard's own former apprentice, had continued to betray the man even after his death. Oh, he'd pay for this.

A month had passed and Captain Marvel was still absent, forcing Fawcett City to endure countless attacks and hits by super villains without Billy being able to protect it. Luckily and fortunately, the JL would step in to help protect Faecett city in the meantime, while Billy tried to figure out how to gain back his powers. He was able to get into the RoE thanks to Tawky Tawny, but the wizard's ghost was gone. With little to no help, Billy was looking more glum than ever before.

Still, with Halloween coming up, Billy's classmate and friend, Cissie Sommerly, tried to help cheer him up with a Halloween trick of treating date. Something nice for the two of them to enjoy while the chaos of everything was put in the background for a little while. Billy agreed, thinking it would be nice to clear his head for one night, and to enjoy some free candy!

However, before Halloween night, Billy uncovers a plot by Oggar accidentally, discovering that Oggar plans to use the concentrated dark magic of Halloween night to make himself the new wizard of the realm, plunging the world into eternal damnation and a new era of darkness.

Clutching his fists, Billy Batson knows what he has to do. At first he thinks of calling the Justice League, but thinking about it more, he knows they'd never let him help with how he is now. "You're just Billy Batson now. You're nothing without the powers of Captain Marvel...if he was ever real at all..."

Remembering this, Billy tucks his JL communicator away, and forms a plan. A Halloween heist for the ages to steal back his powers and enforce justice onto an old man too crusty dusty for this world.

With the help of Tawny, Cissie, Freddy, and Steve the magic pen, Billy will earn his spot back as a member of the Justice League by the end of Halloween night, proving that Billy Batson has always been a hero, and that he doesn't need powers to be Captain Marvel.

Join Billy in,

"Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?"

A fic I'm currently working on right now (among a mountain of others, haha) Tell me what y'all think of this idea!

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Sundrop's Stranger Things Masterlist

Please note - I am just posting this masterlist to get it out of my drafts - I worked on it when I was working on the fic listed below, and then I completely randomly lost interest in it, and this has been sitting in my drafts for months ever since. And I love the formatting and style of this masterlist and I don't want to accidentally lose it by accidentally deleting the draft - and I am gonna need this masterlist at some point. So I'm posting it.

Coming "Soon":

Nasty - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. You hesitate to tell Eddie your true sexual desires, fearing that he'll be turned off. But when he finds out - he is more turned on than ever. (3,000 words.)

Note: The rest of these link off to AO3 (which is the bulk of them unfortunately) - but at some point, I hope to have them edited and posted to Tumblr.

Sugar, We're Goin' Down - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader x Eddie Munson. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Eddie hasn't gotten laid in months, so when he walks in on you and Steve (and neither of you seem to notice), he has just enough sexual frustration built up that he can’t bring himself to look away. He discovers quite a few things about Steve, and you. And himself. (12,700 words.)

Eat Me Up Alive - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Thick!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Eddie is a very annoying person. And when he goes too far, you push back. Turns out - he likes it. Loves it, actually. (11,200 words.)

I'm Still Standing - Nancy Wheeler x Fem Disabled/Chronically Ill Reader. Friends to Lovers. Angst, Smut, (very slight Fluff). Hurt and Comfort. You start having horrible waking nightmares, but you don't want to worry your best friend Nancy by telling her. She's already occupied trying to chase down a trans-dimensional killer wizard, and you are convinced that the two aren't possibly related. (37,800 words.)

Bless This Mess - ADHD!Eddie Munson x Fem!Thick!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut and Fluff. Eddie accidentally forgets the two of you have a date planned. Rather than getting mad at him, you let him make it up to you. (5,700 words.)

Always Yours - Steve Harrington x Fem!Pregnant!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Fluff and Smut. Steve tells you about his 'six lil nuggets' dream, and you let him know that he's actually a lot closer to it than he thought. (2,500 words.)

Obey Your Master - Eddie Munson x Fem!Autistic!Thick!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut (and some Fluff). You are taking care of Eddie while his wounds from the Upside Down are healing. And when you offer to help 'take care' of him in other ways, he's convinced that he survived to live just for this exact moment. (11,200 words.)

Fix You - Eddie Munson x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Fix-It Fic. Hurt and Comfort. Most of your life, all you knew was darkness. Eddie was the one light in all of it. And you refused to lose him. (5,300 words.)

Drowning In You - Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader. Enemies to Lovers. Smut (slight Emotional Angst). Working with Billy at Hawkins Pool forced you to be around him. But forgetting part of your mandatory uniform at home and being harassed by random men because of it forced you to truly confront your feelings for him. (22,100 words.)

You Shook Me All Night Long - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut and Fluff. Steve never really saw you. Until one day, when you stood out as the hottest babe he had ever seen. And on that day, he just happened to be wearing the dorkiest outfit ever and stuttering over himself to impress you. Somehow, it worked. (45,000 words.)

Daisy Fields (Companion to You Shook Me All Night Long) - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader. Established Relationship, Family Fluff. Some Smut, Fluff. You and Steve happily pursue your life together, more than thankful for the silly little ice cream shop that brought the two of you together. (20,600 words.)

(This last one, I don't really like. I wrote it a long time ago, and it doesn't really go with my current style. But perhaps somebody seeing this masterlist can get some reading enjoyment out of it. It's just very unlikely to be re-posted on Tumblr.)

Monstrous - Steve Harrington x Fem!Powered!Reader. Established Relationship. Angst and Fluff. Steve finds out your big secret, and you are surprised when he doesn't hate you for it. (5,200 words.)

#sundrop writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader

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birdiewriteslit · 1 year

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“engagement”

warren rhodes x fem!reader

warren proposes to you and life couldn’t be better (set before the production of aurora starts)

lord this man has me writing all this soft shit. part 2

“Oh, my God, oh, my God,” you muttered while running to the house. You practically slammed open the sliding door, startling Camila and Karen, who stood against the kitchen counter.

“Jesus, you scared me,” Camila said with a hand over her heart. Karen noticed the look on your face and got concerned.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

You broke out into a wide smile and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “No, quite the opposite.”

You held out your left hand for them to see. “Is that what I think it is?” Camila gasped and rounded the corner of the counter, Karen following suit.

Her mouth agape, she took your hand to get a better look at the ring. “He didn’t.” She looked up at you in shock.

“Let me see,” Karen said and took your hand from Camila’s. “Oh, my God. Is that moonstone?”

“It is!” You bit your lip in excitement.

“Who cares what the rock is? You’re getting married!” Camila said, pulling you in for a tight hug.

When you pulled apart, Karen took your arms and you two started jumping around, “Y/n is getting married! Y/n is getting married!” she chanted.

Camila joined in, and the three of you danced around the living room in gleeful joy. You didn’t even notice Daisy came inside until she spoke. “What’s going on in here?”

You all stopped moving and tried to act casual. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just getting married!”

“What? Oh, my God, tell me everything now.” Daisy said, feeling the excitement in the room. You sat down on the couch, and the girls surrounded you, eager to hear the story.

“So, we were on a walk down at the beach when he did it. We were standing in the water where it was like ankle deep just throwing rocks and shit. Out of nowhere, he drops down on one knee and pulls out this ring. Then, he’s telling me I’m the only woman for him, and I’m saying yes before he gets the question out.”

Daisy grinned. “Wow, I never knew Warren could be such a romantic.”

“Sorry, but did you just run all the way here after?” Karen asked.

You looked down sheepishly. “Sort of, but it’s not like I ran away from him or anything. He’s probably telling the guys right now.”

“We have to celebrate,” Camila said. “I’m having all of you over tonight.”

—————

By nightfall, the eight of you were gathered in the living room, drunk off your asses (except Billy) and laughing about stupid shit.

“Oh, remember the time when Warren drank too much and started telling all the groupies conspiracies about the government,” Graham said, laughing loudly.

“He also told them that I secretly read Cosmopolitan. So, thank you Warren for losing me a lot of play that night,” Eddie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer.

“Man, I only told them that because it’s true,” Warren snickered while you laughed at Eddie’s misfortune.

You were sat on Warren’s lap wearing a short white sundress. His arms came around your waist as he pulled you close enough to whisper in your ear, “You look so gorgeous right now.”

You felt your face heat up immediately. Of course, this was something he would say when nobody was listening, while the others were too wrapped up in their drinks and embarrassing stories to notice.

He leaned his head back on the top of the chair, gazing up at you with a kind of admiration he’d only ever had for you. God, you were marrying this man, and he still had the power to make you feel shy.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t look at my wife?” He offered you a toothy grin and reached a hand up to play with your hair.

Your lips quirked up in a wide smile. Your hid your face in his shoulder. “You’re too much, Warren,” you whispered against his shirt.

You felt his chest move as he laughed. “You better get used to me calling you that. You’ll be hearing it for the rest of your life.

You moved your head from his shoulder to find him looking back at you. “I really don’t mind that.”

#warren rojas #warren rhodes #warren rhodes fanfiction #warrenrhodes #warren rhodes x reader #warren rojas x reader #warrenrojas #daisy jones fanfiction #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones x reader #daisy jones & the six #djats #dj&ts #djats fanfic #daisy jones #daisy jones fanfic #birdiewritesfics #birdiewriteslit

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writing-house-of-m · 9 months

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Connect... 4?

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You spend a fun day in, with Wanda, Billy and Tommy

A/N: I found this request really difficult to find inspiration for, lucky for me @nameforthemain came to my rescue (thank you mate!) The request can be found here. Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated!

Prompt: “I can’t believe you said that, you take that back.”

It is summer break for Billy and Tommy so you and Wanda booked time off from avenging to spend it with your kids.

Petting zoos, amusement parks, museums, you have done it all. Because it has been an action packed few weeks it was decided you would spend a few relaxing days at home.

If you could call it that.

For a while all of you played with different toys then various board games together, four player games which then switched to two vs two games, changing partners every so often.

That was until you and Wanda got to the game you were currently playing. The children have been long forgotten as you concentrate on the puzzle sitting between the two of you.

You have spent long minutes staring at the different combinations in front of you while your fingers play with a red counter piece.

"It's not rocket science honey, just put in your piece and get ready to lose," Wanda lets out a cocky remark.

You look up at her with an unimpressed look.

Wanda, the mother of your children, your wife, the light of your life, is going down. There is no way you are going to lose this.

Looking back at the rows before you, you go back to your planning. Finally you drop a piece into an empty column.

Wanda chuckles and immediately plays her turn blocking your planned potential four-in-a-row.

You squint your eyes and raise a brow at her. A smirk is playing on her lips which you don't understand because she has never been good at this game, where is this confidence coming from?

Something is definitely not right.

The game continues and the board slowly fills up, it isn't looking good for you. If Wanda doesn't make a mistake then she will win when you inevitably have to play a piece into a column that will give her the win.

And that is exactly what happens.

You sigh, a sour look on your face when you slide in that final counter, then turn away like that will stop your loss.

Before the red plastic you drop in even hits the empty frame below it Wanda is already placing her yellow piece in the same line. "I win!" She cheers with her arms in the air, hands stretched out.

"There's no way, you definitely cheated," you accuse.

"I can’t believe you said that, you take that back!" Wanda exclaims.

"No," you mock in a murmur crossing your arms over your chest side eying her..

Billy hears the commotion and moves away from his lego to ask, "What are you two arguing about?"

"Just about how your mom is a cheater," you say.

Wanda lets out a gasp, "No I am not!" She exasperates and throws a counter at you which you catch.

"Are you allowed to use your powers, mom? Because I saw your eyes turn red when you were waiting for your turn," he says easily.

With wide eyes you turn to Wanda, "I knew it!"

Wanda sighs and tries not to smile at getting caught out.

"Thank you son!" You exclaim, standing from sitting on the floor. Billy goggles when you lift him in the air excitedly, "A witness to corroborate my suspicions!"

When Tommy sees this he runs over with his arms up saying he wants a turn at being thrown in the air.

"Billy, I can't believe you. I thought we were friends," Wanda pouts.

"But mom you're the one who tells us to do the right thing," Billy says while you and Tommy, who is resting on your hip in your arm, nod your heads agreeing.

With no leg to stand on Wanda shakes her head in shame and confirms he is right. She can't go against that logic.

"Because mom cheated and therefore lost," you say smugly, putting Tommy down onto the ground. "I think she should bake us some cookies. Right, boys?"

"Yes!" "Alright!" They agree in unison.

"I have a better idea, how about we make them together," Wanda suggests.

"You're right, that is a better idea. This is why you're the boss," you agree and place a chaste kiss to Wanda's lips. "First one down gets to eat the chocolate chips!" You shout and immediately run to the kitchen leaving the rest of your family in the dust.

Bill and Tommy run off shortly after claiming you always do this and it is unfair while Wanda is left, laughing at your escapades.

With Wanda alone in the room, she rubs at her stomach and speaks down to it, "I think it's time to tell them this family is going to get a little bigger, don't you?" There is a little flutter in her stomach which she takes as a response to her question when really it is probably her own excitement.

She smiles as she strolls to the noise she can hear in the kitchen, most likely disagreements over the chocolate chips you are probably holding out of the boys' reach.

Wanda thinks it is time for her to step in and ban anyone else from eating any more chocolate then make some 'cheat free' cookies for her family.

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theredofoctober · 10 months

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SPITE— The Boys fic, Billy Butcher x reader, crossposted from AO3, reader uses she/her pronouns

TW: Violence, noncon

The super villain known as SPITE (reader) has been stalking Billy Butcher. He captures her, and chaos ensues...

Read after the cut

---

"You little cunt."

The words lose their meaning quickly in the lurching dark through frequent repetition.

Their first utterance is a hiss against your ear as you're dredged from the street to some rank basement, roiling in your captor's grip like a sturgeon all the way down.

The second usage of the phrase errupts in a catankerous grunt as their speaker attempts to bind you to a chair, a gyre of your tulle and satin costume half-smothering him as you thrash, and kick, and bite.

"You little cunt," snarls Billy Butcher, for the third time, as you clip his jaw with your forehead.

Then, with a vicious grin, he spits a gout of his own blood into your face.

"Like that, do you, you fucking supe slag? Don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."

His shackles your throat with his fist, smirking as you flinch from the red razors of his teeth. He wears a mask of revulsion, the whites of his eyes within it shocking, horrible.

You can't seem to look away.

"Not so brave, now, are you, flower?" asks Butcher. "See, I've been following you, and just picture my fucking surprise to find out that you've been trying to do the same to me. And just me, that is; you've kept well out the way of my Boys. You've been very clever about it, I'll give you that. I doubt they even have a clue who you are."

He releases your throat and wipes his hand on the garish fabric of his shirt with a laborious theatricality.

"So," he continues, "either you were trying to kill me off—which you are absolutely shit at, by the way—or there's something else you're after. Wonder what that could be?"

Butcher kicks a chair leg, and you rock upon it like a bowling pin.

"Look at ya," he sneers. "Running around here, dressed like some clown's tart— sorry to tell you, love, but the circus ain't in fucking town."

Swallowing dryly, you attempt to scrape the chair backwards, inch by inch, across the floor, putting space between yourself and the man with the coarse velvet of murder in his voice.

Butcher watches your retreat, shaking his head.

"Where are you gonna go, sweetheart? You can't use your fucking fairy magic powers when you're all tied up like that, so don't get any ideas. You're cosied up with me for a bit. So let's have a chat, shall we?"

With your voice obstructed by a makeshift gag you merely widen your eyes in response.

"Well, love, I'm glad you asked," says Butcher, with an acid sarcasm. "There's only two ways you're leaving here tonight: either as strawberry slushie at the bottom of a fucking rubbish bag, or all in one piece, except for your dignity, that is. Better make up your mind. I don't have all night."

He pauses, pretends to consider.

"Well, I do, but I wanna spend it cracking open a couple of beers with the lads, not down here chin-wagging with a bleedin' Supe."

Butcher's gaze is thick with the dregs of an old and bitter madness: you feel more than undressed by it, skinned, rather, your muscles flayed from the bone.

"Look at you," says Butcher, coldly. "Sitting there in all that pink bollocks looking like something Piglet shat out after a mad one in The Hundred Acre Wood. What's it all about, eh?"

He kicks suddenly at your calf, his boot rending layers of candyfloss fishnet thread with a blow that will surely bruise.

"Nobody's making you wear this shit; Vought won't touch you with a bargepole after all the stunts you’ve been pulling on the sly. Your own kind don't want anything to do with you. You're a loner. So what were you doing prancing about in this silly fucking get-up? Waiting for me to notice?"

Butcher shunts your chair back against the wall, tipping it at an angle that, at his high vantage, likely allows a view that is particularly obscene.

"Don't be shy," he leers. "Every time you threw a kick at me I could see right up at your knickers. And they're fragile little things, ain't they?"

You strain against your bonds, bucking with such an indignant gusto that the ropes start to fray against your muscles.

"Oh no you fucking don't," says Butcher, and slaps you so hard across the cheek that you're still again in an instant, your ears sirening from the blow.

"You don't wanna piss me off, darling," says your captor, grimly. "See, I could really fucking hurt you, but I don't wanna manhandle you more than I have to, savvy? Then again, I think you're gagging to be roughed up. Didn't put up much of a fight, did you, and now I've got you right where I want you—"

You mumble your objections into the wad of lace against your teeth, but Butcher ignores you, caught up in the rhythm of his spiel.

"—Seems like you're desperate for me to give you a good seeing to. Well, don't worry, love. Daddy's here."

He's being ironic, you think, but as a strange combination of want and loathing twists his countenance you begin to change your mind.

"I can't stand your sort," Butcher mutters. "Filthy mutants, the lot of you. But seeing you in this mess I might have it in me for a pity fuck."

He shoves a thumb into your mouth and pulls free the gag, wincing as his fingers come away wet with drool.

"Well," he says. "Speak up, love. Do you wanna shag, or die?"

"Neither," you rasp. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Butcher's smile is blood and ice.

"See, I thought you'd say that. So I took the liberty of popping all the security footage I've got of you onto a nice little pen drive so I could play it back to you, remind you how many times you’ve tiptoed around me about in your glorified stripper wear without finishing the bloody job. Let's have a gander, shall we?"

He fumbles for a remote, and a vast television screen illuminates in the centre of the room, revealing picture after picture of you tracking Butcher across the city by night. You recall taunting him with your proximity, enjoying the game; it's how you always hunt your targets, hounding them until they go mad with paranoia, an end hastened by hallucinations cast like spellwork from your fingertips, each more awful than the last.

Butcher, however...

He had been difficult. He'd barely seemed to respond to your assaults, no matter your pressure upon his mind.

"In case you're wondering, I saw your poxy visions," he announces perceptively, rapping the television screen with his fist. "But you underestimate the level of fucked up I've witnessed in my life. I've seen scarier shit in my morning routine."

The screen flickers, and you're faced with a shot of yourself standing in Butcher's shadow, so close to him that your breath is almost on the back of his neck. How smug you'd been in the thought that he hadn't known you were there, that you were so extraordinarily clever, and daring.

Humiliating to think that Butcher had followed you with equal stealth, despite his limitations.

"Tell me why you picked me to wind up," he demands, "and not Frenchie, or M.M., or any of my mates. Why am I so special? You've heard my theories. Now it's your turn."

You don't immediately answer, keeping a mutinous silence.

Butcher approaches you with a slow, heavy tread, a killer's prowl, and leans into you, smelling of beer and cologne, and his own congealing blood. You wonder what he makes of your own scent: sweat and sugar, the remnants of perfume, petty irritants for his rudimentary human senses.

Smirking, you say, "You despise us all so much, Billy. I wanted to see what your face would look like when you realised that a Supe had killed you."

"Nah," says Butcher, shaking his head. "I'm not convinced. I reckon you wanted to know how hard a 'normal' like me could hate-fuck you when you got caught in the act."

He shunts a knee between your thighs—each lashed to either side of the chair, conveniently apart—and grinds an apex of bone against you, forcing a reluctant shiver through your core.

You're afraid to move, lest you provoke him; you can't be silent lest Butcher thinks he's won.

At last you settle to hiss between your teeth, "Why don't you just do it? Like you said, I can't use my powers with my hands tied like this. So what's stopping you? Why don't you just do what you want, Mr King Shit of Fuck Mountain?"

"That's not my style," says Butcher, with a sneer. "I want you to ask for it. Beg like the pathetic cunt you are. I'm giving you a choice."

"I'm tied to a chair, genius. I don't have many choices."

"You were trying to murder me, sweetheart. You're lucky you're getting any options."

"You could just let me go."

"And put up with you tormenting me for another bloody month? Not likely."

You burst into sudden laughter and Butcher freezes, his face clouded by sheer loathing.

"Shut up," he snarls. "Shut up right fucking now."

Butcher makes a fist, and you wonder what he means to do: violet an eye, shatter a tooth, break bone like a glass in some grimy pub. As your laugh continues he aims a punch and misses as you weave your head aside, splitting his knuckles on the back of the chair.

"Shit!"

"You're a hypocrite," you say, as he wipes off the blood. "I know all about you. Your hard-on for killing Supes. You act like you think you're better than us, but really? I think you're a jealous little fanboy."

"Who's the fucking fan here?" snarls Butcher. "Admit it. That little stalking act— you've been flirting with me."

You wrinkle your nose.

"You wish."

"Don't have to wish. I reckon if I was to feel that snatch of yours right now you'd be wet through."

The laughter dies in your throat, and you edge about in your seat, attempting to shimmy your skirt further down over your hips.

"Wouldn't mean anything," you mutter, at last, and Butcher gives you a cunning look.

"Only that getting smacked about by a man who wants to kill you is your cup of tea. And I'm starting to think it is."

He shrugs off his vast coat, throwing it aside. Veins stand out on the backs of his hands and arms, and you realise, suddenly, that he is serious in what he means to do, entirely so. You could die tonight, and the worst of it is that no one would care.

"Make your mind up, Spite," says Butcher. "You know what's on the table. You pick, or I will. I don't think you'd like that. My crowbar wants to make friends with every one of your stupid fucking Supe bones."

The peril of your situation is unavoidable. You move your lips, the sounds escaping at such mite softness that Butcher cranes his ear towards your mouth.

"What did you say? Speak up, darlin'."

With a sudden lunge you snap at Butcher's earlobe and latch on with grinning teeth. Blood crests your tongue in a grisly baptism, and as the man wrenches from your grip you see how badly he wants to hurt you.

"Oh, you sneaky little fucker!" he barks. "That's it; I've had enough of that mouth."

In a punishing scuffle Butcher stuffs another wad of torn fabric between your jaws, thrusting it so far down your throat that you almost choke. Then he drags your hips forward on the chair and scrambles for his zipper, his face murky with rage.

"You wanna play, Supe? Then let's have some fucking fun."

His fingers pierce your core, twisting deep, and you writhe like a halved worm around them.

Butcher drives his face so close to yours that your foreheads knock together, his eyes the very black of death.

"So I was right. You're making a proper mess, poor little thing."

You attempt to remain defiant, scornful, but you can barely maintain the artifice when Butcher's hand is so deep within you, each rough twitch of his fingers inducing a further slickness. Desperate, you wrench your arms against the ropes that hold them fast, hoping to wear through your bonds.

"Pack it in," snaps Butcher. "Or I will really bloody hurt you."

You believe it, but don't cease your struggling; you never relinquish a fight, whatever the cost.

Cursing, Butcher wraps a fist around your throat, squeezing until you gargle in pain.

"Now you be a good little trollop," he says, "and take my fucking cock, alright?"

He's so hard as he enters you that you see, in his expression, a dark, aching relief, as though soothing a terrible burn.

How long as he thought about this, tortured by your figure twisting and dancing around him through the rain-lashed streets in a miasma of summoned dreams? How close did he come to splaying you across a wall in some filthy alleyway, crushing you like a butterfly under his boot?

Now he has you jailed from your powers he makes you feel weak. How exhilarating that he is capable of this, a man born entirely without super abilities.

With each violent thrust the chair bangs against the wall, swinging a blade of pain up through your middle. Butcher's hands rip at your costume, tearing it between your breasts with an animal malice.

"You're tight," he says. "So fucking tight..."

He kisses your stuffed mouth with a clash of teeth, and the assault sparks the flint of lust in the secret part of you that has yearned to be dismantled by his stark hatred.

Even as you'd schemed to kill him you'd thought this man handsome, admired, coldly, his brutal methods, imagined standing over his corpse, admiring the loss of homocidal life as you might a sun beam in broken glass.

Now you are such fragments in his handling Butcher has no mercy for you. The man is out of control, taking, by instinct, in a berserker state, knowing nothing but the satisfaction of violence.

His cock jars you like a slaughterer's bolt, knifing your warmth with his ever greater heat. There is no talking, for a time, only the fever of his vengeful need. The room resounds with exerted grunts and the squeak of the chair beneath your struggling bodies; the angle of fucking is awkward, and you notice Butcher glancing at your bonds, evidently considering whether or not cutting you loose is worth the risk of you killing him.

At last he barks, "I'm gonna move you. Try anything stupid and you can kiss your kneecaps goodbye."

You nod limply, and Butcher pulls a blade from somewhere and hacks at the ropes with a careless malice, unflinching as he nicks the skin beneath. Keeping only a knot around your wrists he wrangles you over a couch and ruts you, face down, upon it, his fist in your hair, straining its roots.

"This what you thought it'd be like, you fucking brat?"

You try to brace a leg upon the floor, but your foot skids, and Butcher presses you harder against the couch cushions, smothering your ragged breaths.

"Supposed to be superior," he grunts. "Can't even put up a proper fight."

You twist under him, throwing him off onto the floor in a landslide of churning limbs, and as he staggers up after you again he's grinning widely.

"That's more like it."

As he comes for you again you vault yourself over the back of the sofa and roll into a dark corner, loosening the rope across your hands. When Butcher seizes you by the ankles and hauls you towards him you steeple two fingers at the man's forehead and flex.

What you put into his mind is the vilest image your thoughts can conjure, so corrupt that he drops you swiftly and flinches back, his face paling.

"Fuck me."

For a moment you think that Butcher might vomit, and scrape yourself further across the ground, towards the door, waiting for the inevitable heaving to give you time to run. But he only turns his head and spits a clot of plegm into the dust, his countenance wrenched by a savage glee.

"I knew you Supes weren't right in the head, but you're really somethin,'" he breathes. "Can see why all your quarry end up bashing their own brains in against the nearest wall. Not me, though, love. You've picked the wrong bastard."

A rare fear eats through you as you dump the last of the rope and scamper up the stairwell towards the street. As you barrel your shoulder into the door at the top it resists you, barely splintering despite your harshest efforts.

"Supe proofed," says Butcher, smugly, as he comes up the stairs behind you. "At least against half-baked cunts like you that don't even have decent powers."

He slams you against the door, dizzying you in the blow. The next thing you're aware of is being dragged back down to the basement, and although you rail him with blows and waves of toxic thought Butcher manages to lumber back over the threshold again.

"I'm not finished with you," he says, and lets out a yelp as you sweep a foot under one leg, bringing him down onto the concrete floor with a resounding boom.

Spitting out the gag, you snap, "Go on, kill me, fuckface. I'm waiting. Make it good for me!"

"I'll make something bloody good, that's for sure," Butcher retorts, and he pins you on your back, arms trapped beneath you. "I never leave a job half-done."

He kisses you again, his tongue gilding your throat, and you feel his hardness between your legs again, undetered by the fight, likely strengthened by it. This is a man who feeds on brutality: why should his fucking be any different?

This time when his cock enters you his right hand follows, finding your clitoris with a nimble ease. You loathe the way he makes your body jump to his touch, the stupid, whimpering moans that pass your bleeding lips with the ruthless beat of his thrusting.

You detest how easy it is for him to mould your obstinance into something needy and mewling, as though he knew this potential was there from the beginning.

"How's that feel?" asks Butcher, thickly, a devilish blaze in his eyes. "Tell me. Is that good, you little cunt?"

"Yes!" you blurt out, and hate him for making you say it, for the fact that it is true. "God, don't—"

You attempt to bring your knees together, to dislodge his hand, but you can't shift Butcher's weight, only trigger him to fuck you deeper, rolling his fingers between your heaving bodies until you're slick as an eel with perspiration.

"Go on, make some noise," croons Butcher, "'cause you're gonna come so hard you'll forget how much you hate me."

Your mouth opens to protest, but to Butcher's grinning satisfaction you can do nothing but let out hoarse, quavering cries, all rational thought simmered to steam on the pinnacle of your ecstasy.

You've never known pleasure so sharp, so clean. You're still in the throes of it when Butcher bucks against you one last time, flattening you beneath him as he fills you with his groaning release.

He rolls off and lies beside you for a minute, seeming to gaze at the ceiling, with something between disgust and a quiet smugness.

Then he says, into the lull, "You want a drink?"

You sit up slowly, disliking the precarious wobble in your arms as your brace yourself.

"Why," you say, slowly, "the fuck would I want to drink with you, Butcher?"

Getting to his feet he shrugs, and fumbles about on a table for a bottle of something murky and likely possessing the qualities of turpentine.

"'Cause you're still sat on your arse rather than trying to kill me again, so I reckon you need a bevvy. And I know you ain't got anywhere else to go."

Butcher pours you a shot of the dark liquid and eyes you with a cagey interest when you don't immediately take it.

"I'm the only one of your marks that isn't a Supe," he says. "I haven't figured out your M.O. yet. Be easier to pick your brains when you're pissed. Might loosen you up a bit."

"Not a good idea," you mutter. "Might realise we've got more in common that you think."

You outstretch a hand and pluck the glass from him, sniffing the contents suspiciously.

"Ain't poisoned, Spite," says Butcher. "Be fucking rude, after what we just did."

"It'd be bang on character, then," you reply, coolly, and drain the glass in a wincing swig. "Christ. How do you drink this shit?"

"I've got a strong stomach. Or kidneys. Take your pick. So, now you're watered, speak up. Why did you come after me?"

You wind your arms around your knees and look at Butcher sideways, thinking, with some annoyance, how much your answer will stroke his ego.

"A lot of Supes out there are afraid of you. I just wanted to know why."

#ao3 writer #the boys #the boys fic #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #dark!billybutcher #dark!fic #tw noncon

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thisfanisgonesorry · 1 year

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handcuffed - jim hopper

you REALLY dont wanna get arrested right now.

cw/tags: DUBCON. DUBCON FOR DAYS. uhh, very bdsm-y, obvious power dynamics, degradation kink, handcuffs, obviously. timeline debatable, age difference but thats what makes it hot!, he spits in y/ns mouth. cums in her panties if thats a kink? what would i call that? y/n is canonically a bit of a slut but thats okay! mutual pining if u squint.. maybe enough lore for multiple parts. hopper is lowkey a prick whoop whoop.

havent posted in a while but i wrote this (shitty) gem from a few weeks ago.

Surely, this would be a good day. Surely.

Well, that is what I was thinking before I was sprinting down the road, trying my best to avoid the cops. Needless to say, now I’m restrained by an all-too-familiar chief of police and he’s hauling ass to his cop car, which would now be 50 or so feet from where I’m currently standing.

I’m trying to break free so I can sprint in another direction and pray to god it works. Maybe into the woods, break line of sight. We’re by the backroads, so there’s not a lot of people, though maybe losing face in a crowd would be what I need.

I seemed to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I was near Billy’s shithole of a house, just when the cops showed up, and of course, they had to assume I was to blame. Now, at a worse place at a worse time, I’m harshly pressed into the hood of Jim’s car, and he’s struggling to keep my arms in place to put them into a pair of handcuffs. His body is tightly holding me into place, but god damn, I am not getting arrested right now.

“Let me go, Hopper!” I shout, trying to pull my arms out of his grip so I can use them to push him off. I try to move any of my limbs in any direction as an attempt to get him off me.

“Stop struggling.” He says, as he meets my face, feeling the stubble of his moustache brush my ear. I freeze for a moment; before continuing anyway.

“I wasn’t even at that stupid Hargrove’s house! You already arrested all of the assholes there, why are you harassing me!”

He lets out a few grunt, and then I hear a click and feel cold metal around my wrists, so I struggle more as he tries to stand us both up, still pressed against him as he tries to not let me escape him.

“Get the fuck off me, Jim.”

“Watch it.” He breathes out, “You’re about to get us both into somethin’ you don’t wanna get into.”

“I don’t wanna get arrested by some pig! Not over some shit I didn’t do!”

He finally brought some distance between us as he turned me around, looking at me face to face, though still trying to keep me in place with a hand firmly on my shoulder. I was trying to analyse the situation, there was one, semi-large, semi-hard, glaring problem.

Maybe all that struggling was not the wisest idea I could’ve had.

“Are you hard right now?” I said, with a bitter taste on my tongue, deciding to get rid of that taste by spitting right in his face.

“I told you to stop struggling.” He said through gritted teeth as he wiped the saliva with the back of his hand. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” He gestured towards the backseat.

“What? This, or you?”

“Get in the fucking car, Y/n.”

“I didn’t do anything. I’m telling the truth this time, promise!” He began to shove me, before I tried to intervene once again, desperation levels rising to a shameful amount. “Hey! Hey! Maybe we can work something out!”

“I’m taking you in and if you don’t stop talking, I’ll find some way to shut you up.” He seemed unphased despite the half-mast tent in his pants. He glared at me, speaking sternly. “And don’t fucking spit at me again.”

“I’m not friends with Billy, I’m sober as a judge here, Hop!” I furrowed my eyebrows, “Plus, it’s not like you can walk into the station with a boner, can you? Or are you willing to bet it’ll go away by then?”

“You’re right. I can’t. I know what you’re implying, I also can’t..” He hesitated for a moment. “..Act on it with someone under my custody.”

He could sense the sardonic attitude behind my voice. “Why not?”

“Don’t play that game with me.” He said, pushing me again towards the backseat, though I crashed into the side-mirror of his car, letting out a moan of pain which made him, and his buddy, a bit more rash.

“Help me, help you?” I said with a fake grin, trying to push his buttons, either as a tease or a genuine way to get into his pants. “C’mon, what d’ya got to lose?”

“My job.”

“I won’t tell no one. C’mon, I’ll help you out and you can think about letting innocent ol’ me go, how’s that?”

Is it bad that through the numerous times Chief Hopper has thrown me in jail, I’ve always thought, ‘might as well go out with a bang, right?’, he’d been on my ass for years, either for underage drinking or hanging around pot, he’d find some way to get me in handcuffs. I was old enough to do both of those now, and for once, I was completely innocent.

“If you’re so innocent, why’d you run?”

“Look, I was just at the wrong place, wrong time. I saw sirens comin’ at me, what d’ya think I’m gonna do?” I could feel the tension; sexual or not, it was thick in the air. He was clearly sexually frustrated, and look at him, of course he would be. Sure, he was hot, but it’s not like the chief of police gets many weekends.

“I’ve heard you use that excuse before.”

“I’m telling the truth here! What have I got to lose? You’re hard and I’d fuck you to get out this time. I’m not sitting in a drunk tank with Billy!”

“Why’d you run?”

“Fine! I got pot on me! But it’s not from Billy!”

“Where?” He said sternly, trying to pull it off me. I didn’t want to admit it was in my bra, so I tried to avoid eye contact. “Where.” He repeated, louder.

“It’s in my bra..” I said, still avoiding eye contact. He looked at the buttons to my white and green shirt, deciding if he should or not. I rolled my eyes at him, almost to urge him to just hurry up and get on with it.

He quickly began unbuttoning the shirt, it was probably not his best choice, but once it was unbuttoned, he tugged it out of my jeans and tried to push it as best he could off my torso. He took in the view for a moment, but only a moment.

“Where?”

“Left side.” He raised his large hands to put his hand on my right; “MY left.”

Granted, I hadn’t exactly prepared for this moment, so my bra was an off-skin tone, and wasn’t exactly ‘sexy’. He put his hand in the cup of my bra, feeling it for a moment, his fingers grazing my nipple, before he pulled his hand away, with a small baggie of mix in his hands.

“Look, I wasn’t actually doing anything wrong, okay?.. I’ll do anything, I just.. Please don’t bust me for this.”

He looked at the bag, and he exhaled sharply, you could see the cogs turning in his brain, like clockwork, deciding. Weighing his options, even.

“Anything?” He spoke almost silently.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He said, “I’m serious.”

I hesitated for a moment, before simply nodding, and he let out a shaky sigh before grabbing my face, he was still rightfully so, very angry at me, so he firmly pried my mouth open.

“Swallow it.” He spoke sternly before spitting in my mouth.

I swallowed it immediately, “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

It took me by surprise how quick the tables had turnt, and his breath shook, and he quickly opened the backseat door, pushing me towards it, though I still stood upright. He had full control, so it seems he wasn’t just going to bend me over and fuck me. At least, not right away.

He pressed his mouth on mine, one hand holding me in place by the waist and the other holding onto the roof of the car. Slowly, he moved his hands down, playing with my belt until he could tug down my jeans so they rested around my knees.

“Hop, c’mon.” I breathed, pulling away though his mouth chased mine slightly. He peaked down, eyeing white panties with a small bow on the elastic.

He pulled away fully, then fiddled with the belt of his own pants, before unbuttoning them and leaving it open like that. I tried to open my legs for him though I was restricted, he pressed our clothed crotches together, a sigh escaping him as he did.

“Can you.. unbutton your shirt?” I asked, a little more timid than I would’ve liked. He gave a short nod, before unbuttoning his shirt so I had a decent view. He was fit, though obviously rockin’ a bit of a dad bod. A good amount of hair and honestly, I could be mad about the last screw I might have for a while, yet I’m not.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Please.” I responded softly, leaning towards him though he simply pulled away. He seemed proud of himself, devolving me into almost begging for it, yet also unsatisfied. “Sir? Please?”

“You’re so smart, such a fast learner.” He said, though it somehow sounded like he was degrading me, and yet, it was driving me crazy.

“I.. I want to touch you.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

“C’mon, Hop. Don’t tease me.” I pleaded with him, and it must’ve worked.

Almost like a switch went off; it was quick, but not harsh, he turned me around and bent me over the back seat.

“Beg for it.”

“I’m not begging for it.”

He took a fist of my hair and pushed my face into the seat, speaking sternly. “Don’t act like you’re not a slut. I’ve heard the stories. Beg.”

“Shit, please.” He pushed my face further; “Please, sir, please!”

“For such a fast learner, you’d think you’d know how to keep out of trouble.” He said, alongside rustling of fabric, I assume pulling your pants down with only one hand isn’t easy. “Last time. Were you at Hargroves or not?”

This was probably the most evil form of interrogation.

“No! I swear it, I hate his guts; him, and his shitty weed. What do I gain from lying to you right now!”

“You do whatever you can to get your kicks out of me. I know you get around. The amount of drunk-tank ramblings about the vixen behaviour you get up to, who knows, this is just another way to fuck with me.”

“Tough talk coming from you.”

“Quit acting like a brat.” He snarled, “You want this, you need this.”

“I don’t.” I lied, and he could tell.

“So if I just pulled up my pants and undid those handcuffs, you wouldn’t kneel and beg about how you need me? I see how you look at me.”

Shit. He played into exactly what I meant and he’s still got me caught.

“No, I mean, yes, I dunno!” I cried with urgency.

“Say you don’t want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me, Jim, please.”

“Exactly. Look how wet you are.”

He pulled down my panties, soaked beyond any chance of denial, or even dignity I could possibly have left. He shakily breathed, lining himself up to my entrance to only grind against the slickness, teasing.

“Jim, please, I’ll be good, please. I’ll stop getting into trouble, just—”

Almost like a heaven-sent miracle, he began slowly pushing himself deeper, one hand the chain of the handcuffs, and the other still tightly in my hair.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, bottoming out in a smooth movement.

He began at a slow pace, just to feel the way he felt as he moved. It wasn’t fast enough to build any pleasure.

“Faster, my god.” The pace was agonisingly slow.

“I bet you like it rough, huh?” His grip on my hair tightened, almost stinging.

“Shut up—”

“The rumours are right, aren’t they?” He grunted.

“No, ‘m a good girl.” I panted, “I’ll be your good girl.”

“Are you? How long have you wanted to fuck me?”

“If I tell you, will you fuck me like you mean it?” I pleaded, “C’mon, fuck me real hard, please — I’m good for it.”

He rolled his eyes and began thrusting, the sound of wet slapping sound quietly echoing through the woods.

“You really are just a slut, look at you.” He laughed, letting go of my hair and reaching around and grabbing my throat, pulling me upright. “Answer my question.”

“So long, Jim, I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”

“Yeah? Is that why you’re such a little bitch? Why you’re on my nerves all. the. fucking. time?”

“Yeah, ‘m sorry, please.”

“Stop getting into so much fucking trouble.” He cursed, finally letting go of the loose chokehold and grabbing both hips to fuck into me harder, though completely stopping instead.. “All this so I’ll fuck you? Huh?”

“Yes! I’m better than the other dumb whores you fuck, god, shit.”

“Yeah? You want me all to yourself? Say it.”

“I want you, now fucking move!”

He began thrusting again, I went limp and slumped over, he was groaning and only now beginning to lose his composure. I was drooling over the carseat, my eyes were rolling back into my skull, all over some stupid cop with an amazing dick.

“Y’re so nice aren’t you, you’re so good, you’re gonna let me cum right? ‘m your good girl, please, touch my clit, ‘m so close, please, you’ll let me—”

“Look at you, so needy.” He panted, reaching down to toy with my clit. “God, I’m so close, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Please!” I began chanting as I unwound on him, “Oh, fuck, I’m—”

I clenched around him and felt the rush of the orgasm hit me like a wave, he shuddered and kept fucking into me until my orgasm rode out.

“Feels so good, y’so good..” I mumbled tiredly, feeling him pull his still-hard cock out. “What? What are you doing?”

“I’m not cumming inside you.” He said, stroking his cock to completion.

“Please. Want your cum, please.” I mumbled into the carseat.

“Fine, I’m gonna..” He groaned in annoyance though it could also pass as pleasure.

“Thank you, sir.”

He kept jerking himself off, “Ugh, Y/n, fuck, I’m—” He grunted as he came on the panties still bunched around my knees.

“Can you.. help me.. get dressed?” I mumbled. He sighed, pulling up my panties and jeans before rolling me over to do up the button and zip. “I can feel your cum, s’warm.”

“Yeah. It is.” He sighed, buttoning up the tshirt and scooting me into the car fully.

He got into the driver’s seat and began turning on the car, talking into his walkie talkie about something or other. “Are you goin’ to take me home?”

“No, Y/n. I have to take you to the station for the pot.”

I groaned tiredly. “Oh, fuck off, Hopper.”

#jim hopper #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

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wanderingmind867 · 2 months

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I did it! I made a Justice League Canada concept finally, although I only made one original character. Still, I'm impressed I thought of seven characters (even if it took me months):

Justice League Canada: Originally conceived around 1988 or 1989 when the Justice League Detroit gets a mission in Canada. The mission goes well, and the Justice League gets some contacts in Canada. A year or two after this, the Justice League loses a fight in disastrous fashion and their public reputation sinks even lower. Knowing that the United States has turned on them, the Justice League use their connections in canada to keep the team running. Only one requirement: the team will have some oversight by the canadian government. Nothing too severe. But there will be some oversight and guidelines.

They serve as a Justice League branch solely isolated to Canada and (occasionally) the US states on the Canadian border. In those cases, they closely work alongside the revived Justice Society of America.

Justice League of Canada Founding Members:

1. Martian Manhunter (J'onn J'onzz): When the Justice League Detroit moves from Detroit to Ottawa, only two members of the Detroit team come to Canada: Martian Manhunter and Gypsy. Martian Manhunter acts as the team's leader again, the same way he did back in Detroit. He moves his private detective practice as "John Jones" from Michigan up to Ottawa, giving him a convenient excuse to be in Canada.

He's with the team for their year or two. If this were an actual comic, he'd be on the team for the 20-25 issues. But after a year or two with the team, J'onn leaves to head back to the states. He's gotten an offer from Harley Quinn and Captain Cold to supervise their team of reformed (or semi-reformed) supervillians, and he couldn't say no to the offer. Especially since his brother was on that team.

2. Blue Beetle (Ted Kord): Ted Kord is known as the Canadian Bruce Wayne. Well, maybe not explicitly by that nickname, but that is the type of character he shall be. I wrote so much for his origin that it needed it's own seperate post/note. Which I did make.

3. No name for this character yet, but some Norse and/or Inuit demigoddess or nature spirit. I want something to match Wonder Woman, except with more of the beautiful mystique of the snow and aurora, as well as with more respect paid to the indigenous communities of Canada. I have a well formed image of this character because this is a character type already beaten to death (honestly), but I think we could find a way to make it unique.

4. I don't have a name or backstory for this character yet, but I have two details: they're an elemental who can control the waters, and they're from Vancouver Island. Besides that, I've got nothing. I don't know if they're indigenous or just caucasian, I don't know if they're male or female or neither, I just know they're an elemental from Vancouver Island.

5. The Angel of Dawn/Ange de L'aube (Samantha Guizzon): Samantha Guizzon is a highly skilled CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) Agent. She's one of their best agents, known for her skill with research, espionage and for her very detailed knowledge of non-lethal combat.

Oh, and she's also got metahuman abilities. She can generate and manipulate light. She got her nickname (Angel of Dawn) because she can use her light powers to form shining hard light wings upon which she can glide through the air. She can also emit blinding light from her body, not unlike a miniature solar flare.

Samantha was assigned to the team to represent Quebec and Canada's francophone community. Originally from Montreal, Samantha is proud to represent Quebec on the team.

6. Captain Marvel/Shazam (Billy Batson): I saw someone say Captain Marvel was from Minnesota. I don't know if that's true, but I'm rolling with it. Mostly because I've seen jokes online before that Minnesota is the US state most like Canada (or at least I swear I heard that somewhere), and now I need to roll with it.

Captain Marvel/Shazam aids the team, but he's not actually living in Canada (like the other team members). Nobody knows why Captain Marvel isn't in Canada, let alone a Canadian citizen. Nobody even knows why he asks strangely naive questions or never stays around too long after missions. Well, maybe Martian Manhunter knows. But the secret is safe with him.

7. Gypsy (Cindy Reynolds): I know that there's a good chance Gypsy was DC's ripoff of Scarlet Witch, so let's take it one step further. Let's embrace the mild plagiarism. Her and Red Tornado will have a brief romance (although theirs crashes and burns a lot faster than Vision and Scarlet Witch's relationship).

When the Justice League Detroit disbands, only three members agree to head up to join the Canadian branch. Martian Manhunter, Gypsy and Captain Marvel/Shazam. The rest of that team stayed back in the states or were otherwise too busy to agree to join the new team.

Additional Members:

8. Booster Gold (Michael Jon Carter): Michael Jon Carter is from Edmonton. But I get really bogged down in backstory. So much so that I had to give him his own seperate post/note. Because I wrote like 7 to 9 paragraphs, too many to share here (especially when I'm trying to write about a whole roster of team members here, not just one).

9. Red Tornado: Although not really Canadian (being an android created in the United States), the Red Tornado is asked to join the team as a personal favour by the Martian Manhunter. Moving to Ottawa and taking on a human identity as university professor "John Smith", the Red Tornado becomes the team's heart and soul.

10. The Geomancer: This is a placeholder name for now, but I have a backstory. Daughter of a PEI farmer, young Emily Harrison is a metahuman with the power to control earth (and more specifically, dirt and soil are her specialities). Emily took over running the farm when her father had to retire, and she now runs it with her dad's best friend, an old, burly acadian man named Jean.

Emily never intended to be a superhero. She was content to just till her fields using her powers, and never have to worry about anyone judging her for them. But then one day the Justice League Canada came to PEI. Because the villian the Justice League was chasing also kidnapped her father, Emily and Jean help the Justice League stop him. This brings her to the notice of the Justice League.

This later, when Martian Manhunter, Captain Marvel and the Angel of Dawn all take absences from the team, they ask Emily and Jean to join the team. Emily was pretty reluctant to join, until she managed to get a promise the league would send her someone to help with the farm when she's doing super hero work.

11. Jean Boudreau: Jean is an acadian man from New Brunswick. A while ago, he moved to PEI to get a job as a farm hand. There he met Emily's dad, and began working on his farm. When Emily inherited the farm, Jean has already been working there for 10 years. He knows Emily the same way he knew her dad, and he wants to help protect her from the judgement of the world

When the Justice League comes to PEI to stop the villian who kidnapped Emily's dad, Jean is outraged. That's his old friend they kidnapped, and Jean will go to the ends of the earth to save him. Similarly, Jean follows Emily onto the Justice League when she joins them to help protect her.

Jean has no superpowers. He's just a strong, older man with all the physical abilities that entails. He does take martial arts training while he's on the league, though. He's also one of (if not) the only member of the team with no secret identity. He's just Jean.

12. Captain Newfoundland: There used to be a superhero called Captain Newfoundland in some old comic strips. I know little about him, but he looks super cool. And I want to take him, add some cool new details, and bring him to a wider audience. I'd add elements of Captain Universe and of The Phantom Stranger.

The last relic of an old alien race which came to earth eons ago, Captain Newfoundland and his kin were the original settlers of Newfoundland. Except back then, it wasn't Newfoundland. Back then, it was called Atlantis. This ancient race of star beings settled on Atlantis. They made it a paradise on earth, lush and beautiful. But then Atlantis fell to a massive volcanic eruption, and all of Captain Newfoundland's people either died or fled back into space. But not him.

You see, Captain Newfoundland was an exile amongst his people. He was friendly to the humans and animals of earth. He took it upon himself to watch over them and care for them. Since his people felt this made him too tender-hearted for his own good, they exiled him to the farthest tip of Atlantis. Funnily enough, this tip was the only part of Atlantis that survived the explosions. It never fell to the seas, and became the place we now call Newfoundland.

Nowadays, Captain Newfoundland is the humble protector of "The Rock". There's just one catch: he needs a host body. Kind of like how the Spectre needs a host body to do his thing, Captain Newfoundland needs a human host body to serve as a conduit between him and humanity. His current host body is an old Newfie, Brian Wellford (name subject to change if I think of anything better).

Captain Newfoundland is not a permanent member of the Justice League Canada. Kind of like the Phantom Stranger, he comes and goes wherever he's needed. Also, he doesn't often leave his stronghold on the east coast.

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luminnara · 2 years

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Opposites Attract | Billy Hargrove x Reader

Requests are open! | Commissions are open!

Summary: you’re super nerdy—you’re all about D&D, sci-fi, comics, and everything that people like Billy Hargrove and his new pals make fun of. In fact, they think it would be a great idea to bet on whether or not Billy can make you like him. Lucky for Billy, he’s already got a thing for you…but what if you don’t like him back?

You didn’t know how you ended up being stuck right in front of Billy Hargrove in not one, but two classes senior year, but you hated it.

He was always right there, gaze burning into the back of your skull, boots sometimes kicking the legs of your chair, fingers occasionally yanking on your hair or shirt if he decided he just had to have your attention. You would always turn towards him, looking totally annoyed, to see one of those infuriatingly handsome smirks on his infuriatingly handsome face and find out that he forgot a pencil again or something equally stupid.

When you were lucky, he left you alone after that. He’d manage to sit quietly and you would do everything in your power to ignore him, spending your time doodling in the margins of your notes or dreaming up new scenarios for your campaign. Sometimes, you even managed to forget that he was there.

When you were unlucky, though, Billy made himself a nuisance. He insisted that you acknowledge him every five minutes somehow, whether it be by kicking your chair, accidentally shoving you when he stretched, or leaning so far forward that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

Not only did it send a flurry of butterflies through your stomach every time he did it, but it also really, really pissed you off.

“I can’t believe him,” you growled one day as you clutched your books to your chest. “I mean, seriously, who does he think he is? He’s so annoying, and it’s not like he ever actually needs anything or has anything useful to say—Eddie, are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, totally. Sounds shitty. Hey, did you decide on a class yet? I gotta get this campaign started this week or I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it, man.”

You rolled your eyes and slammed your locker shut. “Elf. Paladin.”

Eddie Munson, one of your only friends, gave you a grin. “And I’m sure you’ll blow us all away with your holy might, toots. Thanks. First session on Wednesday.”

His usual sweet, goofy expression brought a small smile to your face as you walked with him down the hall. “Good. I need a distraction.”

He slung an arm around your shoulders. “And a distraction you shall get, o fair maiden, in the form of the gnarliest, most fucked up—“

“Freak.” Someone grunted as their shoulder slammed into his, sending you both stumbling a few steps.

You shook it off and just kept your attention on Eddie. “More fucked up than the last one?”

“Oh, trust me, it’s gonna be brutal.”

“Better be.” You grinned. “I’m graduating this year. Gotta go out with a bang.”

Down the hall, Billy Hargrove was watching you with a thoughtful expression on his face. You and that weirdo Munson, huh? You looked close. He had his arm around you. You were always hanging around him and his little pack of freak nerds in the cafeteria. But seriously, that guy? You could do way better.

Namely, you could do Billy.

You just never seemed to pick up on his advances, and he was growing frustrated. How the hell was he supposed to get you talk to him if you never did? Was he supposed to use the direct approach, the one that worked on girls like Carol? Or were you way too nerdy for that?

“Hey. Hargrove.” Tommy H elbowed him. “How ‘bout her?”

Billy turned to snarl at him, but when he followed Tommy’s gaze, he saw that he was nodding towards you.

“What about her?” Billy asked.

“Bet you can’t get a date with the nerdiest bitch in town.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Billy scoffed. “I can get a date with anyone.”

“So you’re in?” Tommy grinned. “Get that super dork to crush on you by the end of the week, and I’ll get you a 12 pack.”

“...Alright. Fine.” Billy sneered. “It’s a bet.”

-----

Every so often, you got paid a decent amount of cash to “babysit” a group of kids who really didn’t need a sitter.

As far as you knew, at least.

Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will--that kid, who got kidnapped or whatever not too long ago? Yeah, that Will--El, and Max, Billy Hargrove’s younger sister. Stepsister. Whatever.

Even when you were only hired to keep an eye on one or two of them, you usually ended up hanging out with the whole gang. You got the feeling that they knew that you knew that you didn’t need to be there, but it was easy money, and you’d been babysitting them since they actually needed it, so none of you really minded. And besides, you actually had a lot of the same interests, so all you ever had to do was order pizza and sit around while they argued about movies or told you about their campaign.

“You guys are so good at D&D,” you laughed, pulling your feet up as you sat on the couch.

“Well what about you?” Mike asked eagerly. “What are you playing right now?”

“We haven’t started, but Eddie swears it’ll be brutal.” You snorted. “Hey, don’t you guys start high school next year? Are you gonna join the club?”

“Of course,” Dustin scoffed. “I mean, what else would we do? Sports?”

They all laughed, though you noticed that Lucas’ was more nervous than the others.

“Well good, because even if Eddie somehow manages to graduate, they’re gonna need more players.” You turned your attention to Max and El. “How bout you guys?”

El gave a small shrug. “I’ve never really…played.”

“I’m sure the boys would be glad to teach you,” you said, reaching for a slice of pizza.

She smiled. “I might like that.”

“Yeah. Yeah! We can totally do that!” Mike said enthusiastically. “We just need to write your character—“

Your eyes shifted to Max as she sat there, looking somewhat cross. “What do you think?”

“Look, no offense, but the nerd shit really isn’t my thing.” She said, as nicely as she could manage.

You noticed that her leg was bouncing, something she only did when she was anxious or upset, and you frowned slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” She snapped. “I mean…yeah. I’m fine.”

“Max…” Dustin groaned.

“What?”

“You did get permission to come over here, right?”

She was quiet for a moment, and you knew that the answer was going to be no.

“Max, are you serious?” Dustin complained. “Is that psycho freak gonna come looking for you?”

“Are you talking about Billy?” You asked.

“Duh! He’s a total dick, and I swear, if I ever have to see him again I’ll—“

The doorbell rang.

It was way too much of a coincidence for you to not believe you were about to see an angry Billy Hargrove ripping the door off its hinges, but as everyone froze and the seconds ticked by, there was nothing. Just a tense silence, broken only by the ringing again.

“Oh man,” you groaned as you stood. “Anybody else wanna be the babysitter for a change and take responsibility? …no? Great…”

You steeled yourself, reaching for the knob and twisting it slowly…and there he was, just as expected, only he was leaning in the doorframe, looking pissed off but not as angry as you’d been bracing for. He exhaled a puff of smoke in your face before giving you a curious look, and you could practically see the wheels turning before he spoke.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you here, sweetheart.”

“Well, here I am.” You cleared your throat. “Can I help you with something?”

He looked past you, eyes shifting towards the kids. You saw anger there, a bright spark of rage flashing across his entire face as he spotted Max. She looked back at him stubbornly, setting her jaw and daring him to say anything, and you got the feeling that this was a normal thing for them.

“Maxine.” he bit out, voice dangerous and low, “been lookin’ all over for you.”

“Piss off, Billy.” she spat.

He was holding himself back, and it was taking so much effort that he though you should be proud of him, because he was doing it for you. You, who was standing in his way, ever the dutiful babysitter, keeping the lion in its cage even though you had no idea what you were doing. But god, he wished that you did. He wished you knew how much he wanted to be good for you.

He forced a tight smile onto his face. “Come on. Su--your mom is worried.”

The tone in his voice was serious enough, earnest enough, that Max recognized the urgency in it. She didn’t like Billy, not really, but she knew how rough his dad was with him, and even though he was her shitty stupid stepbrother, the thought of him on the receiving end of Neil Hargrove’s wrath wasn’t a pleasant one.

“...Right. Yeah.” she cleared her throat, glancing around for her sweater. “I’ll, uh...be right out.”

The others looked at her in confusion and you raised a brow. When you looked back at Billy, you saw that he seemed thoughtful, pensive, almost, but by the time his eyes snapped back to yours, his expression had returned to that devil may care aloofness that he was so good at.

“Didn’t know you babysat, sweetheart,” he said, relaxing his posture slightly.

“Oh, yeah...” you smiled sheepishly. “I mean, these guys don’t really need it anymore, but I don’t mind the extra cash. I’m sorry if Max wasn’t supposed to be out, I just sort of assumed she had permission since the party is always together--”

At the word party, he snorted, and you were reminded that Billy Hargrove was, in fact, an asshole and not at all your type of person.

“Nah, Max loves to run off. It’s no big deal.” he said with that gorgeous smile of his, even though he was absolutely downplaying how extremely pissed and stressed he was thanks to his sister. “Besides...she’s in good hands here, I can tell.”

You blinked. Was that...a compliment? Was he capable of those? What the hell?

“Well…thanks,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Anytime,” he winked.

And even though it was a weird exchange, a big part of you hoped that you could talk to him again, about more than just “I’m not giving you another pencil” or “quit kicking me.” You were hoping for a real conversation, because you were hoping that there was more to Billy Hargrove than pretty eyes and a bad attitude…

And the next day, your wish came true.

And the day after that.

You suddenly found Billy lingering around every corner, greeting you with that gorgeous smile and asking how you were as if he genuinely wanted to know.

And you told him.

And he listened.

Billy hung on to every word you said like they were his lifeline, paying extra close attention whenever you said you liked something. He noticed everything, more than anybody else would, because he was good at watching people and good at taking in his surroundings, and with you right in front of him, he had plenty to focus on and memorize.

And he felt himself falling with every new “thanks, Billy” that you gave him.

“I mean it, baby.” He said, every time. Because he did.

And goddamnit, you were really, really starting to like him. He was holding doors for you, he was carrying your books, he was telling you how much he liked your outfits…and it was working, all of it, and by the end of the week, you were sighing and wishing that he would ask you out for real.

And then Tommy H came and fucked it all up.

“Damn, Hargrove, you did it!” He cheered on that Friday, approaching the two of you as you stood at your open locker.

Billy gave him a sharp glare. He was finally making progress with you, and the past week had been like heaven on earth for him…and here was this chucklefuck, coming to screw him over because of some stupid bet.

“Guess i owe you that beer, huh?” Tommy grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

Billy wanted to break his arm.

“I’ll be honest, I really didn’t think you could pull it off. I mean—“ and Tommy turned to look at you, lip curled in a nasty sneer that you knew all too well. “—this one’s like, the prudest prude in town.”

“Excuse me?” You asked haughtily.

He leaned towards you. “But you’re just like every other girl, huh? Creamin’ your pants over Hargrove.”

Your nostrils flared angrily and your face felt like it was absolutely on fire as you turned your gaze from Tommy to Billy. “Are you saying this was a fucking joke? A bet?”

Billy immediately straightened up, and for once, he was struggling with what to say. “I—no, look, it wasn’t—“

“Fuck you, Billy Hargrove.” You could feel tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, but you weren’t about to stand there and cry in front of them. No fucking way.

So you slammed your locker and spun on your heel, marching away with your head down. You didn’t know where you were going, but you needed to run, get away from them, get away from the guy you knew you shouldn’t have started to trust.

Tommy let out a loud laugh as he watched you go. “Aw, I think she’s crying over you! That’s so fucking patheti—“

Billy interrupted him with a fist to the jaw.

“You fucking idiot!” He snarled, grabbing the front of Tommy’s shirt and slamming him against the lockers. “The hell’s your problem?”

Tommy looked confused, eyes wide as he tried to process what had just happened to him. “Yo, what the hell, man?”

“You ever make her cry again, and I’ll make you cry twice as hard.” Billy growled. “Is that fucking clear?”

Tommy nodded quickly, and as much as Billy wanted to stay there and beat him to a pulp, he knew he needed to find you. Because he needed to fix this before you never spoke to him again, even if that’s what he deserved.

He found you outside, sitting alone at a picnic table. Your forehead was resting on the top, your elbows on either side of your face as your hands covered your hair. You looked smaller than usual, all curled in on yourself, and Billy wanted to punch himself in the jaw for dragging you into this and ruining everything.

He approached you, clearing his throat when he was a few steps away. “Hey.”

“Go away, Billy.” Your voice was muffled.

“I wanna talk.”

“I said go away,” you said, louder this time, though your voice was heavy from your crying.

Billy shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. “Tommy’s a fucking idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that he does.” You said.

“No. He doesn’t.”

You sighed loudly, picking your head up to look at him. “I know how this works. I’m the weird nerdy girl, and you’re the hot bad boy jock, and your shitty jock friends probably bet on whether or not you could get between my legs this weekend.”

“First of all, I’m not a jock.” He growled. “Second of all…Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look. It was a bet, but I only took it because I wanted to…get to know you.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him. He held his breath, hoping beyond hope that that was enough, that you would believe him and he could take you out for burgers or something and you could both just move on. When you finally opened your mouth, he straightened up slightly, standing at attention for whatever you had to say as if it would help his chances.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” You asked.

“…what?” He barked.

“You heard me.” Your lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line as you looked up at him. “How am I supposed to believe that anything you’ve said this week was genuine? God, I feel so stupid…just leave me alone. It’s not like you care anyways.”

“Hey.” He growled. “Don’t you fucking say that.”

“Say what?”

“That I don’t care.” His eyes were dark, his teeth bared like an angry dog. “I do care.”

“…prove it.”

He rolled his eyes and you expression only hardened.

“Prove it, Billy. Otherwise I’m gone.”

“Fine.” He hissed. “I’ve been listening to you talk all fucking week.”

“Is that seriously supposed to make me feel better?” You scoffed. “You just can’t stop insulting me today, can you?”

��No, babe, I’ve been fucking listening to you.” He repeated. “Your favorite color is moss green. Not pine, not forest, moss. You like vanilla shakes and you love dipping your fries in them. You’ve got a cat named Peter and a dog named Lucy and you want a lizard but your folks keep saying no.”

As he spoke, your eyes widened. Had he…had he really been paying attention, like you had so naively hoped?

“When you were six, you fell and scraped your knee and you’ve still got the scar. You like DnD, Audrey Hepburn, and Fangoria. You can’t fucking swim, and you took ballet until you were nine.” He sighed. “That good enough for you?”

You were speechless.

“I…uh…wow,” you stammered, your anger fading away.

“I told you. Tommy is an idiot.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and held them at his sides, fingers clenching into fists and then relaxing again over and over as he fidgeted. “I only took his bet because I wanted to win. And because I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“You could have just talked to me like a normal person,” you said dryly.

“You’re always with Munson.”

“Well, yeah. He’s like, my best friend, so…”

“Is that it?” He asked hopefully.

“What?”

“You’re not dating that guy, right?”

The look on his face was almost endearing. “I’m not dating him.”

He visibly relaxed, fists unfurling as his shoulders dropped slightly. “Good.”

“You…really remembered a lot,” you said, chewing at your lip. “So…I guess maybe I owe you an apology for some of what I said just now. But Tommy is still—“

“Still a dick. Yeah.” He held up a hand for you to see, his knuckles red and angry. “Already took care of him.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken slightly. “Huh?”

“Soon as you left, I socked him.” He said, sounding incredibly serious. “He comes out here before I’m cooled off, something’s getting dislocated.”

“How…chivalrous.” A smile tugged at the edges of your lips. “My knight in shining armor.”

“Don’t drag me into your weird fantasy shit.”

“I think you’d be great at Dungeons and Dragons!” You argued.

He chuckled as he stepped closer, asking for permission to sit with his eyes. You scooted over a bit and he took that as an okay, sitting with his back to the table, legs spread obnoxiously to take up extra space as he leaned back on his elbows.

“You’re…nicer than I expected,” you said as you looked at him. “This whole week, you have been.”

“Yeah, well. People have layers.” He said absentmindedly, fishing in his pockets for a cigarette. “Babe, you got a smoke? …nah, you’re too goody two-shoes for that…”

You laughed lightly as you watched him and he froze, glancing up at you with those bright, wide eyes of his. He loved the sound of your laughter.

He wanted to hear more of it.

Giving up on the cigarette hunt for the time buying, he instead turned his full attention on you and cleared his throat. “Look, this whole thing was shitty. Lemme take you out to the diner later ‘n make it up to you. Deal?”

“…all right.” You smiled, even though your eyes were still puffy from crying and you were tired behind belief. “Deal.”

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #Billy Hargrove #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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applejuiz · 2 years

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This is so interesting to me because I think I can finally identify the fundamental misreading of Steve’s character. This tweet highlights the very fandom notion of Steve, that he’s some angsty self-deprecating sweetheart who just wants to be valued and needed, when that’s not at all what his character in the show has ever been. I like my angsty fics for sure, but canonically Steve’s arc has never been about being wanted and needed, it’s always been about moving past expectations and reaching emotional honesty.

Buckle up, it’s a Steve Harrington Manifesto.

In season one, Steve is deeply embroiled in toxic masculinity and is surrounded by bad influences who lean hard into cruelty and apathy. He doesn’t always agree, he half heartedly calls out Tommy and Carol when they cross a line, but they’re still his friends. He has a place with them and in school. But his role and the expectations of him are in direct conflict with his blossoming love for Nancy. He genuinely cares about her, he is falling in love with her, but there are only certain ways he can express that love without compromising his reputation. When he thinks Nancy has cheated on him, he doesn’t confront her about it, he doesn’t find a healthy way to work through those emotions, he sinks into the cruelty and apathy, to an extent what’s expected of him as a boy in the 80’s. He lashes out at Nancy and Jonathan, and has to face the consequences of those actions. (Cue one of the best redemption arcs of all time.) He realizes, listening to Tommy and Carol continue to be horrible about everything while he deals with the emotional fallout of the day, that this isn’t a solution, that he doesn’t feel better, and that he has done harm. He makes amends for it, cleaning the sign and going to apologize to Jonathan directly. He’s trying to process the situation in a better way. When he steps into the Plot finally, he makes the deliberate choice to not walk away but to stay and fight and confront the physical danger with Nancy and Jonathan. He ends the season happy with Nancy, making amends with Jonathan, changed for the better.

In season 2, it’s clear that he’s still struggling with confronting emotions. He and Nancy have been dating for a year, but they’re faltering because she’s grieving and wants to take action, and he doesn’t know how to confront her emotions or take that action with her. He clings to the facade of normal and happy, while Nancy can’t do that. They’re not toxic, they struggle to meet each other’s emotional needs because of traumatic events. Steve is used to pretending and ignoring emotions for that apathy (but no longer tied to cruelty like Tommy and Carol). Nancy can’t handle that, it’s bullshit. Steve has made progress though. When his ‘title’ of King Steve is threatened by Billy, but Steve healthily refuses to engage with it until Billy becomes a threat not just to his social power but to the physical safety of the kids.

So, Steve adopts a bunch of children. Namely, Dustin, who he talks to about relationships. He encourages behaviors he’s used to, act like you don’t care. Unless you love her, which you better not because emotional honesty means getting your heart broken. It doesn’t work for Dustin. But Steve is allowed to be honest about his feelings for Nancy without derision like with Tommy and Carol. She’s different, she means a lot to him.

He is once again losing Nancy, and isn’t lashing out about it, but is trying to process his hurt. He allows Nancy to walk away, with a maturity that he definitely didn’t have in season one. But it’s still the easy choice for him. It’s not full emotionally honest. He loves her and he wants to be with her, but he steps back to prevent his heart from breaking further.

So he’s a shitty boyfriend but a pretty good babysitter. And Steve allows himself to make an honest emotional connection with Dustin and the other kids. Once again he’s encouraged to confront the physical conflict and steps up both with Billy and the tunnels. And he ends the season with a sweet true moment of connection in the car with Dustin. He’s still grieving his relationship with Nancy and watching her from afar. But he drives away.

In season 3, Steve is single for the first time in the show. His friendship with Dustin is strong and he’s getting closer to Robin fully outside the expectations of high school. He’s looking for love and failing miserably. His conversations about love with Dustin and his bonding with Robin culminates with the bathroom scene (which is arguably the best scene in this entire show.) His speech to Robin in the bathroom is clear: these facades I used to believe in were stupid, I should have been emotionally honest to myself and others, and I should have been hanging out with you. He doesn’t hesitate to admit that he was in love with Nancy, and that she broke his heart. And he follows it up with his confession. He’s fully emotionally honest about his love for Robin. He never had a speech like that with Nancy in the first two season (that we saw) but I think we can assume that there wasn’t, their flirting was always more coy and wrapped up in those expectations from external forces. And Robin’s response is one of complete emotional honesty. This moment is important for his character, to learn that there are connections and love beyond romance. His care for the kids and Robin is real and fulfilling and it gives him space to be emotionally honest. Here he is truly open, confronting and being honest about his feelings in a healthy way. And he receives in return emotional honesty, and a connection that’s important despite the fact that it’s not romantic. (This is that thing, that ‘the answer to every teenage boy’s problems isn’t girlfriend’. This is that. It’s right here.)

So when we hit season 4, Steve has multiple healthy platonic relationships built on emotional honesty. He knows who he is, but he’s still looking for love (not sex or other fleeting attachments). He’s no longer afraid of falling in love, he’s actively looking for someone who makes him feel the way Nancy made him feel. So when Nancy re-enters his life, when he has people telling him that there’s something there still, he takes a chance on it. He bares his soul to her in two parts with his dream. It’s pure emotional honesty, it’s walls down. Season one Steve probably couldn’t have dreamed of saying something like that to anyone. But he is able to say it now.

(His desire for a big family is perfectly in character btw, and he’s very obviously not looking for some 50’s nuclear family with all the toxic roles and expectations that have been foisted upon him. He describes a genuine and loving family based on the connection he experiences with the kids. It’s beautiful and it’s his transcendence beyond the expectations that he will be like his dad or Ted Wheeler. He doesn’t want to meet those expectations, that’s part of his arc.) And, later, once again walking directly into the physical conflict, he faces his emotional conflicts. He tells Nancy exactly how he feels about her, honestly and healthily. He has no expectations and no jealousy. He faces the risk of a broken heart again and death again, and he faces it bravely.

It is the obvious next step in his development. Whether or not he and Nancy end up together, he has reached new heights as a character, his arc is almost completed. I think how Nancy responds in season 5 and how he processes that is the best possible conclusion for Steve. He has come full circle and is the most evolved version of himself. But if you never understood that arc, and read it as something else entirely, based on fanon, yeah, maybe it was disappointing. I, however, am beyond satisfied that the best character on Stranger Things continues to be the best character on Stranger Things.

#this got so long #My Steve Harrington Manifesto #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stancy #can you tell I miss college #I miss college

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howtobecomeadragon · 2 years

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Completely separate from Mike and his issues with saying "I love you," I wanted to focus a little on El saying "I love you" to Mike.

Mike yelled "I love her and I can't lose her again" in 3x06. We know that she heard him while she was in the bathroom because she brings it up later, but in the moment, she comes out of the bathroom and asks "What's going on?" She decides to not say it back or pull him aside to talk about it. She doesn't feel a need right now to say it back. When Mike and Lucas brush it off, Lucas says it's just a family discussion, which gets the ball rolling here on mixing Mike and El's "I love you's" with a familial meaning. El moves on to finding Billy.

In the next scene with El, she thinks back to spying in her mom's mind, inspired by the rainbow on a box of Lucky Charms. It's part of her plan to figure out what's going on with the flayed, but I also think that any mention or flashback to El's mom is so important and so connected to her feeling that familial love. When she goes into Billy's mind, we once again see a mom, Billy's mom, and we're shown how much he loved her. In this episode, El sees love in 3 ways: her own towards her mom, Billy's towards his mom, and Mike's towards her, which she doesn't confront at all and is told is part of a family discussion. Familial, familial, and... romantic?

In 3x07, Mike and El talk about how "blank makes you crazy" and how "old people say it." Mike is the only one talking here except for El asking clarifying questions. This serves to show the audience that Mike can't say it, but I think just as important here is El: El isn't saying anything either. She has this time to talk to Mike about what she heard at the cabin but doesn't. She hears that Mike is trying to talk about his feelings towards her and she could take this as a time to talk about her feelings, but doesn't. She looks confused and anticipatory, but that's it.

In 3x08, El is reunited with Hopper. She gets some of the most beautiful parental love from him and is told for quite possibly the first time that even though she can fight, she shouldn't, because Hopper wants her to stay safe. Hopper wants to protect her and doesn't want her sacrificing herself to protect him.

They're attacked by the Mind Flayer and Billy, and we see that Billy's love for his mom protects El: she's able to reach him enough for him to stall. Such a big importance placed on mother's love, familial love. It almost makes me wonder if she's letting go in some way of her own mother, as these two moms were closely linked a couple episodes ago. Finding a mom in memories. She has Hopper now, she has a parent. But then she loses Hopper too.

We skip forward 3 months, her powers are still gone, she's moving away from everyone and everything she's ever known, living with people she doesn't know well. We have another Hopper and Mike parallel here: "I know it will" vs "I know they will."

And for the first time, El says to Mike "You talked about your feelings, your heart. I love you too." She only says it back once she's lost everything else. She only says it once she's lost her sense of parental love and she's completely floundering. Mike's love is a replacement for Hopper's.

I know I've seen analysis that El is holding Will's bear and so she's literally holding a symbol of Will between them during this kiss. But it's also just a girl who lost her dad, holding a teddy bear for comfort. She needs comfort wherever she can get it right now, from a teddy bear and from her boyfriend. And El goes right from this conversation to reading Hopper's letter. More focus on missing Hopper.

And for all that we talk about Mike not loving El and how we don't really see him loving her the way that she needs, we don't focus so much on the other way around. Yeah, sometimes it seems like Mike loves El because she's a superhero, but why does El love Mike? Because he was one of the first people to be nice to her, because he helped take care of her when she needed to be housed and fed? Because he's still in her life? Because they have known each other so long? From El's POV, there's not a ton there to base romantic love on. That sounds a lot like familial love to me.

Not going into s4 as much detail, but in 4x01 and 4x02, El's struggling with her grief so much. She isn't getting the love she needs from Hopper, and now she isn't getting it from Mike either. When they fight in 4x03, she's sitting at her craft table where she was fixing her diorama of Hopper for half the conversation, up until she tells Mike "you can't even write it" and she finally stands up to really face him. She's missing familial love and she's begging for love from Mike. She doesn't need it to be romantic love. She just wants to hear that she's cared for and valued for more than her powers, like she heard in her last conversation with Hopper. If Mike was honest about not loving her romantically but loving her platonically, she likely would've been content. But he isn't honest, he can't say it, and worse, he reinforces that he values her for her powers, in direct contrast to her last conversation with Hopper.

And this happens again in 4x09 in Mike's speech. Just more contrast to that last conversation with Hopper.

El has only ever said I love you or asked for love from Mike when she thinks Hopper is dead. She's looking for love where she can get it, and now that she has Hopper back, she's going to understand better how she loves Mike, what love she needs, and what love she's going to accept.

#el hopper #elmike #platonic elmike #mike wheeler #byler #jim hopper

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witchsickness · 1 year

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headquarters are at harrington’s.

well. the new headquarters, since, according to max, the byers’ floor was creaking under their combined weight. not that billy’s complaining. thinking of that house turns his gums sour, and harrington’s place is—big. big enough to lose yourself in.

billy’s nurtured the habit of keeping tabs on things he considers his, though, which isn’t sensible, but, then again. neither is he. in a house full of not-kids-anymore, he can always find harrington. a twisted game of needle-in-haystack, and billy’s the detector.

on the far side of the upstairs corridor, the door’s half-open. billy brushes his knuckles against it, intending it as a knock. ends up pushing it all the way open instead. ‘you busy?’

harrington’s clearly not. frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the bat in his hands. he looks up as billy walks in, blinks himself back to awareness. ‘is it time?’

‘not yet. i, uh—’

‘want some help with the straps?’

billy looks down at his own hands to find them gripping a vest. much good it’ll do. what the thing they’re going against is after can’t get bullet-proofed. still. they’re dying tonight. maybe harrington’s hands on him can be his one good memory this time around.

‘sure,’ he says, handing him the jacket. it’s secondhand, and the velcro hooks are worn thin, the loops lumpy. billy has to pull the hem down while harrington presses the strips to make them stick. through the kevlar layers, the touch doesn’t even register. billy wants to scream.

‘all set,’ harrington says, arms dropping to hang limply at his sides.

‘right.’ billy has to cough to clear the raspiness off his voice. ‘that’s actually—that’s not what i wanted to talk to you about.’

the bat rolls silently on the carpeted floor when harrington pokes it with the tip of his shoe. ‘whatever it is, make it quick. might be your last chance.’

don’t i know it, billy thinks, and says, ‘that thing we’re after. is it. the same that—’

‘fuck if i know,’ harrington scoffs, and billy gets the impression it’s more to himself. ‘what makes you think i have any idea what anyone is talking about, ever?’

billy sucks his teeth. a loud, shrill noise that does little in the way of comforting him. his hands can’t stop shaking. ‘harrington. you’re making this way too easy, yeah? at least pretend you got a clue.’

with a lilt that means he’s reciting terms that mean nothing to him, harrington says, ‘it’s all part of the same creature. a hive-mind.’ with a smile like he’s amused, ‘was there something else, or—’

‘i want you to kill me.’

the smile withers on harrington’s mouth. ‘what the fuck?’

‘i mean it.’ unlike every other time, shelves digging into his back and hands around his throat, choking litanies out of him, do it, kill me, set me free, billy—finally, he means it. for the first time. for the last. ‘if this thing gets me again. don’t—wait for me to spit it out. not this time. hold el back if she tries to—’

‘i feel compelled to remind you el has psychic powers, so holding her back isn’t really—’

‘just—’ billy grinds his molars. pain shoots down his nerves, and he—revels in it. the luxury of being the only resident in his own mind. for a while longer, at least. ‘just take me out. that’s all i’m asking.’

harrington—laughs. throws his pretty head back and laughs like carefree isn’t just a distant memory. ‘are you serious? you think, what, an alien entity has it out for you? keeps ripping time and space to shreds to get back at you?’

‘it targets people, genius.’

‘yeah, and you beat it once. why would it try again?’

behind his eyelids, billy sees red. he has to fight a snarl off his face. ‘this isn’t a discussion, harrington. i’m asking you for a favor. or doing you one, depending on how you look at it. here’s your chance to finally be rid of me. once and for all.’

cogs are whirring inside harrington’s mind. he hums, considering the offer. ‘how?’

‘please. you’ve been drooling to use that bat of yours on me for a long time.’

‘too messy. don’t want your brains all over me.’ harrington takes a step closer. like this, the bat’s sandwiched between the tips of their shoes. ‘here’s an idea. how ‘bout you don’t get caught?’

‘sure, but if—’

‘all you need is a good memory.’

it takes a second to draw the invisible line from harrington’s eyes to billy’s—billy licks his lips. ‘i’m done for,’ he says, breathless. earlier than expected. he thought he had a couple more hours in the bag. one last fight.

‘how long would it take,’ harrington says, pressing closer, ‘to make a new one?’

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my stuff #if anyone reads this. just know i had to physically restrain myself from sneaking in a big bat-d/ck pun #promise i'll shut up and stop posting dumb stuff here soon but i liked this one?

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lena-scribbles · 2 years

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ! ʙɪʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴏᴠᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ)

A/N; Somehow I couldn't wait to write another part, so I decided to go with Billy. So...yeah... Hope you like it.

Oh, and go check out my Wattpad here;

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Lena_scribbles

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Anger. Abashment. Fear.

That's what Billy feels in this exact moment.

Why does he feel as if he can't live without you? Why can't he just stop thinking about you? Why does it has to be you? He does not understand a thing and he hates it.

He saw many things, and felt many things but never has he ever came accross one like that. It's not like he regrets meeting you- the source of these emotions. He still remembers how you two meet, as if it happened yesterday...

It was... rather quick.

His car stopped on the parking lot as it was a daily thing for him to drop Max off to school. But this time something was... Out of order. Just what exacly? Everything was the same as it always been.

"What the fuck?" He whispered. Billy looked around him, trying to find the source of this weird mood in the air that felt like only he could feel it. Kids playfully pushing one another? Birds chirping? Cars driving in the distance? Maybe-

Suddenly someone bumped into him. He was ready to kick the living shit out of whoever decided it was best to disturb his train of thought. Billy spinned around quickly just about to remind this bastard their place, but-

"Sorry, sorry!" And just as quickly as you came, you dissappeared. Somehow he couldn't rip his eyes away from your running form.

...Who he hell were you?

He has never seen you around. Were you new? Maybe he just didn't pay much attention to you? Either way there was something about your presence that drew him to you. Like you were lurring him just by brushing his arm.

Whatever you were doing, you did a good damn work.

After that incident he decided it was nothing important and that he was just overanalyzing things. He'll forget about you in no time.

He didn't. Day after day, week after week, he was silently coming closer and closer to you, while trying to understand these weird feelings. Every time he dtopped Max off to school he was looking for something. Someone.

"...you good?" Asked his younger step- sister Max after getting out of his car.

He huffed a bit of smoke."Fuck off, brat." And with that he kept moving his stare to different directions.

"Hey! Wait up guys!" He recognised that voice. It was you. Your so called friends were walking away and happily chatting while you were trying to quickly tie your shoes, already long distance behind them.

Tap, tap, tap, tap. Billy didn't even get to fully understand what was happening, until your crouching form was getting closer until you were covered in his shadow.

"Hey" you looked up at him with doe-eyes, and just as you did, his mind was corrupted with thoughts how good you looked beneath him. How right you both looked- with Billy reminding you how small you are compared to him. How little power you have against him. "Friends left you behind again, huh?" He said. "No, they just-" You stopped, turning away from him. Your shoe laces were finally tied up."...yeah. They did." With a quiet sight, you stood up. He chuckled "I don't think they're worth losing your time for when they can't even see when you're not around." He leaned on the wall beside him. "...why do you ca-" RRRINNNNGGG!!

The bell loudly ringed, making you flinch a little. With a quick excuse you stormed off.

Billy still stood there, feeling sudden emptiness.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Allll right, that's all for part one. Let me guys know who should I write about next time. As for now uh... Drink water. Love ya, sugar 💖✨

#stranger things #billy hargrove #yandere stranger things #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere billy

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ashwhowrites · 2 years

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Ok, this isn't from the prompt list, this is actually based on something that happened to me, well, just the violence part. Billy x FemReader, a bit toxic, probably. But basically, she somehow crosses the line and Billy completely loses his cool and slap her but Reader has a similar temper so she doesn't hesitate even a second before hitting back, really hard too, and Billy finding that hot. Kind of like that fight scene in Mr & Mrs Smith

Absolutely! I'm also sorry to hear about the personal connection to the violence

I have to admit I have never seen the film- so I hope this is what you wanted :)

Y/N and Billy fell in love young, and probably too young. just a bit too immature to have strong feelings for someone. Teenagers with anger issues and independent tendencies

Billy struggled with the fact that his teenage years are dedicated to one girl and her only. He spent years jumping from bed to bed, and that's how he liked it. But now that's all changed. Part of him loved having a fire bomb of Y or N all to himself, but the other half missed running around wild.

They were very alike in many ways. Both hot heads acted on action and refused to accept feelings. They danced around each other for months, getting jealous when the other would put on a show just to fight. a screaming match that ended in a make-up fuck, refusing to say sorry for any actions.

She knew they were bad for each other, but one look in his baby blue eyes and she was panting under him. He fucked with her head, but he fucked her in her bed too good to stop. She used to be independent, never allowing a man to take charge of her emotions. She doesn't know when she gave him the pedestal, and some days she wants to kick him right off of it.

They were in the middle of a huge fight. Going for each other's throats, screaming over one another.

For them it was all about who had the power.

Billy has been screaming at her for hours. Something about her being a slut and a whore.

She was getting tired of it. The fighting. The screaming. The accusing.

"just shut the fuck up!" She screamed over his voice.

He stopped fast. A deep growl, "what did you say to me?" He peered down at her.

"I said. Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Before both of them knew it, her face was forced to the side. He fucking slapped her.

With even more anger in her bones, she slapped him right back, twice as hard.

His cheek burned, his head was forced to the side as hell.

She fucking slapped him.

And he liked it?

He felt his jeans hug his crotch a little tighter. Looking up her chest heaving up and down. A snarl on her lip. Fists balled together.

"you are so fucking hot."

His lips crashed onto hers.

All the anger in their veins laced in this kiss. They were growling at each other as they grabbed at every piece of skin available.

Hot anger makes for great sex, they learned.

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove angst x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove request

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booksandpaperss · 2 years

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So, This may be depressing but.

I’m counting up moments in Stranger Things across the seasons where Mike has shown next to no regard (or simply none at all) for his own life… yall it’s concerning.

There are (so far) at least 3 glaringly loud instances where Mike has canonically not cared about his own life at all. We have:

-The cliff scene (s1)

-the scene where Mike hits flayed Billy on the head and is literally almost killed (s3)

-the shoot out scene where Mike throws himself in front of Will several times and even tries to do the same for Jonathan like one or two times (s4)

And ofc an argument can be made for *all of season 2* when Mike was willingly right by Will fully knowing that he was literally possessed by an otherworldly entity that wanted to kill everyone and yet Mike did not care at all, he was just focused on keeping Will safe hmmm

And these are just the biggest instances where it’s really clear, I’m sure if I actually got around to doing my ST rewatch I would notice subtler moments where Mike maybe wasn’t considering his own life as a primary or even secondary cause for concern.

Which brings me to my point: I’m REALLY worried for Mike in season 5. There are way too many hints that Vecna is gonna target him, and even some hints that vecna is ALREADY watching him in season 4. And with how his mental state has been lately, I really don’t think he would be able to emotionally handle dealing with vecna and fighting him off. I can say with 100% certainty that if vecna went for Mike RIGHT NOW, with where he’s mentally at as of the end of season 4, Mike would not make it out on his own; it doesn’t matter what song they would manage to find to play him, or what Will would be able say, because as of right now there is a part of Mike that wants to die. And as long as that’s the case, Mike will not be able to find it in himself to to choose to live despite vecna “persuading” him to die (that’s pretty much what he does), he just won’t. If he IS the one (ha 💀) that’s gonna get vecna’d on the flower field at the start of s5 instead of Will, El would HAVE to pull him out with her powers bc otherwise we’d lose Mike right at the start of the season and I really don’t think that’s gonna happen, the Mike angst is gonna be dragged tf outttt.

Most likely though, its gonna be Will in a Vecna trance at the start of the season, which is good (angsty as hell ofc but Yk, that’s gonna be the season 🥲) bc that gives Mike time to get to a better place mentally before it’s his turn. I’m thinking that by the time Vecna tries to kill Mike, he’ll be in a place to believe that he deserves to live, which means Will’s words WOULD be enough to save him.

This would also be such a beautiful message for people struggling with depression, it would be the same message as the running up that hill scene in s4 and let me tell u that scene had me SOBBING, and with Mike there would be the added layer of his mental health struggles being made worse by being queer and I just know that’s gonna hit home for a lot of ppl… god 😭😭

#TW for discussions of depression and mentions of suicidal ideation #im gonna make a longer in depth post abt this #how vecna is gonna go for Mike bc the way he kills ppl is by convincing them they deserve to die #and how Will’s love completely on its own can’t save Mike #just bc that’s not how being depressed works #byler #mike wheeler #mike wheeler is not ok #mike wheeler i know what you are #mike wheeler analysis #byler s5 #stranger things 5 theory #of sorts #mike gets vecna'd #elli talks mike wheeler

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kiirotoao · 1 year

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“El’s not stupid” and Mike’s defensiveness: Byler underneath it all

So, phrase of the day that I can’t stop thinking about that’s driving me insane about Byler: “El’s not stupid.”

Or, I think more emphatically and accurately, “El’s not stupid!” With an exclamation point, because both times that it’s said in season 3, it’s said pretty strongly.

So first, we have Mike, of course. He says it in his fight with Will: “El’s not stupid! It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” And then, just a few episodes later, we have Nancy saying it, too: “And El’s not stupid! She knows her abilities better than any of us.” What a dichotomy, if you ask me, and what an enlightening one, at that. Because when we look at how the phrase “El’s not stupid” precedes two very specific and contrasting contexts, things start to become pretty interesting. Let’s look at Nancy first, because oh boy, I cannot wait to use it as ammo against Mike (affectionately).

Nancy declares that “El’s not stupid” in addition to the following conversation:

So let’s observe. We have Max, Mike, Nancy, Lucas, and Will having a conversation clearly about El and the flayed. This is about El’s abilities and the situation at hand. They’re trying to find what’s causing the flayed to appear and how to stop them from spreading. Mike is pretty vehemently against El going into the void out of fear that she’ll get hurt “for no reason,” ignoring the problem that they’re all facing right now. Pretty much everyone is against Mike in this argument, fighting for El using her powers because it’s for the greater good, and for the fact that - as the ladies reinforce - she can handle going into the void multiple times. When Nancy says “El’s not stupid,” she says it in the context of trust.

Nancy agrees with Max that El can do things on her own. That El can advocate for herself. That El is strong. She’s not mindless. She’s not misguided. She’s not overexerting herself (Although, overexertion is kinda arguable as she did lose her powers shortly after this in the last episode of the season, but still. In this immediate instance, she does in fact find Billy and still retain her powers).

To Nancy, El’s not stupid, she’s capable.

A high praise of character, if you ask me. It’s a praise directed to her as a person. Because Nancy doesn’t just say that she’s capable to use her “abilities,” she says that El is capable to be “her own person with her own free will.” This is about letting El uphold herself without any other influence. She defends El.

Now, let’s turn to the rain scene in all its heart-wrenching glory and see what Mike has to say about El not being stupid:

Besides the glaring difference of this being a one-on-one skirmish without four extra people around, this conversation is not about El. Or, it didn’t start off that way at all. Will was upset that Mike and Lucas brushed him off in exchange for a desperately hopeful phone call from the girls, and he felt like his foundation, the “Party,” was being ripped out from underneath him. And as the leader of the Party, Will puts responsibility on Mike. Will feels like he’s being treated poorly, and he’s making it clear to Mike. Will is upset at Mike. This conversation is about Mike. And so I think that it’s natural for Mike to defend himself when Will is roasting him at his wit’s end, but notice how he snaps back.

“El’s not stupid!” Mike says. So I’m thinking, right! Okay! Because she’s so much more than that! Because she’s such an incredible girlfriend and he loves hanging out with her! Because she’s kind and caring and sweet and- “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” HUH???

After not saying anything about Will, Mike’s sudden attack on him feels so abrasive and sudden! In contrast to how Nancy immediately defends El for “[knowing] her abilities” and being “her own person” and having “free will,” this conversation between Mike and Will contains none of that praise! Mike turns the conversation towards Will. Rather than focus on El, Mike focuses on Will. So when Mike says, “El’s not stupid,” he says it in the context of immediate self-defense.

And there are a number of valid reasons why I think Mike snaps like this, sure, you can argue it all. He loves El. He misreads Will’s anger as a personal defamation against El and gets indignant. He knows that Will doesn’t have a girlfriend and doesn’t know what it’s like. Whatever the case, Mike snaps back because, to him, she’s not a pointless pursuit. She’s not worthless. She’s not meaningless.

To Mike, El’s not stupid, she’s important.

But what does importance have to do with El? Nothing. When something is important to someone, it’s a value. A value that oneself holds in direct relation. This isn’t directed to El as a person, it’s directed to Mike. Mike wants to protect her, and through that, Mike wants to be tied to her. Unlike El in season 3, Mike cannot think of himself as an individual. Unlike El in season 3, Mike doesn’t want to uphold himself without any other influence. In the rain scene, he defends himself.

Now, okay, let’s play this through for Mike. Mike gets defensive when Will brings up El in the rain fight. Flash flash forward to when Mike is arguing over El and the flayed. This is the first time we hear Mike officially say that he loves El. Here’s his chance to speak less towards himself and more towards El. What does Mike say about El?

In sum, Mike thinks that El’s powers should be used with care, she’s not a machine, she shouldn’t risk her life, and he loves her because he “can’t lose her again.”

None of this focuses on El’s character but only her importance as a person.

So, yeah. Nothing. As far as Mike is concerned about El, we still get nothing. Once again, all of this cycles back to Mike and his need of her. He cannot and does not express what he loves about El. All we know is that he loves her… with no clear reason why other than his own worry.

So when we look back at the rain scene and that snap, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” It just… doesn’t seem far-fetched to me to say that Mike is upset at Will because of something much deeper, and this line emerged from a place of frustration. Perhaps frustration that he can’t say why he loves El. Or perhaps why he can’t love her because of the boy right in front of him.

Just look at the way Mike reacts after he says that line:

He’s speechless by himself. He looks ashamed. And unlike Nancy and Max's clear delineation of El's merit and rights, Mike doesn't say a thing about her in the rain scene other than, simply, she’s “not stupid.” And then that’s it. He can’t go on about El, not when he needs to defend himself again. Not when he just messed it up with Will. So let’s see what he says:

In sum, Mike doesn’t want to be a jerk to Will, he associates growing up with getting girlfriends, and playing D&D and keeping things the way they were is childish.

Notice how all of this focuses on Will’s importance and his character.

In Mike’s eyes, he doesn’t want to come off as harsh. Mission failure, but he at least tries to placate what he knows he just said. Mike treats Will as someone important to him, and he doesn’t want to hurt him. And it doesn’t just end there. He then expresses the situation at hand, remotely mentioning Lucas and Dustin also having girlfriends and Will’s dissimilarity in that. And finally, he knows that Will still wants to play D&D and rebuts that they can’t play forever. Even though they are in disagreement, Mike directly addresses Will’s wants and seems to know his heart. And following such a sudden, assertive, and knowing line as, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” without a single prompting word from Will in reply, it seems to me that Mike is very likely projecting his shared wants onto being Will’s fault. It’s just the easy way out to hide inner feelings.

Because truly, Mike doesn’t meander with Will. He doesn’t avoid the heart of the situation. Mike may not actively be praising Will’s character, I will admit, but he addresses Will’s wants and pursues Will constantly, knowing when he’s screwed things up with Will. It’s like Mike doesn’t even have to express who Will is to him, Mike just acts, and so it’s clear that there’s so much that Mike loves about Will. So again, with such a reflex jab as “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” to Will saying that El is a “stupid girl” (which, side note: I think Mike is misreading Will's anger using El as one against El, and Will never really meant to call El "stupid" at all. When Will said that El's "stupid," here, I think that he said it more like an enhancer rather than an actual defamation of her as a person), it all seems.. a little suspicious on Mike’s side. Why can’t he praise her character? Why does Will cause such a roadblock to him? Why is Will so different and so easy to pursue compared to El?

So yeah, in all cases, El’s not stupid. But in the rain scene, was it really in Mike’s mind to defend her or defend himself and the conflicting truth?

#byler #byler analysis #byler is endgame #byler brainrot #will byers #mike wheeler #mike wheeler is gay #stranger things analysis

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grapesodatozier · 1 year

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apologies as always for how incoherent I get when talking about mileven lmao but I’m having thoughts about them again and how important mike is to el, and how consistently there for her he is, and how that plays into st4 vol 2 especially.

as soon as mike meets her, he’s listening to her. he doesn’t tell her it’s weird when she says no to closing the door, he finds an in between and asks her if it’s okay with her before walking away. he spends 353 days listening for her, and reminding her that he’s there for her whenever she’s ready. he listens in s3 and thinks over what she said, and even in the midst of all this when she’s hurting or in trouble he shows up for her and defends her against flayed billy and holds her when it’s over and she’s exhausted, then apologizes and encourages her to be her own person and pursue what makes her happy, while making clear that he wants to be there with her when she does. he pays attention, and he remembers what happened when el turned herself to dust to save them all in s1 so he stands up for her in s3 when she won’t stand up for herself bc no one else there (except lucas, who also comes through for el in a big way) understands what el has been through and how far she’ll push herself for others bc she feels like it’s all on her. mike again is there for her in s4, crossing half the country to prove that he’ll always be there for her.

and to me that’s the crux of his speech to her. el’s series-long arc, to me, is about guilt and feeling solely responsible and alone. so it’s so powerful to me that she tells brenner he’s at fault, not her, and at the end of that she has mike right there, who led a multi-day, endless search across the desert for her, showing her she’s never doing anything alone anymore. but, naturally, when faced with the stress of seeing max being hurt, she slips back into the guilt and gets incredibly overwhelmed (especially bc she has henry constantly blaming her), so what helps her get through is mike. and to me it’s not even really about the “I love you,” to me it’s about the “I’m right here” and the “i can’t lose you” and “I need you to fight.” that’s what it’s always been about. when el is faced with all this pressure and is falling back into that place where she thinks it’s all on her, when she’s feeling powerless and alone and immense guilt, mike is there to say “this is not all on you, I’m right here, I’m always gonna be right here, you’re never alone in doing this anymore.” and to me, that’s what that scene is all about. he says I can’t fight this the way you can but I’m here for you and I always will be. please come back to me. and she does! she always comes back to him like he always comes back to her 💕

there’s a beautiful children’s book I love about grief, and in it one of the characters has a huge block she has to drag around, and her new friend comes up to her and asks her to hang out, and she says “maybe tomorrow?” bc she doesn’t feel she can move the block or let go of it. and over the course of the book, the new friend keeps coming back, and listens, and helps the grieving character pull the block until she can talk about her grief, and the block gets smaller. it doesn’t go away, and it’s still hers, but her new friend helps her with it and stays with her and it gets smaller. and it just makes me cry all the time bc like…that’s what love is!!!!

and that’s what mike does for el. el has gone through so much terrible shit, but mike is always there to listen to her and help her carry it. he never stops waiting for her, he never stops writing to her, he never stops looking for her, he’s always there at the end of each season to listen to her.

and we hear from mike that el still thinks it’s all her fault, but she told mike she feels that way!! that is a huge step!! even if she does still feel solely responsible at this incredibly low point, she knows that she can share that feeling with mike. a part of her knows she’s not alone even in the moments she feels most alone bc mike always shows up for her and listens to her. when visiting max in the hospital, el leans on mike. even in her darkest moments of isolation and guilt, she knows instinctively that she can lean on mike.

and that’s where their relationship is for me. in every single time they say to each other, “I’m here.”

#god i love them so much do you understand how much I love them #st said healing is not linear and mike will be there to weather every up and down with her #yeah they’ll mess it up sometimes bc they’re both traumatized kids but in the end they’re always gonna be there for each other #mileven #st4 #grief tw #angst cw #abuse mention

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