#i had a sort of a revelation recently about Billy and how I feel about him

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Don’t Give Yourself Away

Pt. 2 of the Low Life series that I started forever and a day ago! It’s just the enemies section of the enemies-to-lovers plot, bear with me here

TW: alcohol, underage drinking, driving under the influence, mentions of violence, violent thoughts, Billy just wanting to punch things basically

Read it on A03 here! :D

~~~*~~~

Fuck Steve Harrington.

That’s the consensus that Billy’s brain has come to as he sits in the overcrowded, gratingly loud cafeteria of Hawkins High. It’s been half a day here and that’s the only thing ringing through his ears  as he picks at the hunk of ground up meat this school tries to pass off as “food”.

“I mean, who the fuck does he think he is anyway?”

That’s Tommy, grunting over a mouthful of applesauce, his girlfriend sitting next to him and twisting up her mouth in some kind of disgusted agreement. Or maybe it’s more so irritation at the very bitter topic of interest. Billy can only grunt wordlessly back at him.

Tommy’s been rattling off for the last ten minutes about how Steve “betrayed” them, Carol’s listening with vague disinterest, and Billy’s thinking of ways to crawl out of his skin. All it took was one long look at Steve Harrington this morning in the parking lot to tell him he was in some serious trouble. And when that wide eyed girl got out of the same car… Billy felt the bitter fire of jealousy lick at every corner within him. And lord did he hate it.

He hates even more how he can’t even convince himself in some kind of soothing reprieve that she’s just a friend or a sister because he saw them. In the hallway when he was walking from one dreary class to another. Billy heard the guy giggle as she hit his chest and reprimanded him for his “stupid” sunglasses. As he smiled the brightest thing Billy had ever seen and said something that sounded like “I missed you”. Said something like “Tell me about it” when she pointed out that it had only been an hour. He purred it out as he cradled the side of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss; pulled her closer, smiling like she was everything and he couldn’t be close enough. Right there in the middle of the hallway for everyone to see. For all the hope and potential to seep out of Billy’s body and pool onto the ground.

“Leaving us to be with those… freaks.”

The boy in question is about 2 tables over, talking with that girl and some lanky dude with a shaggy haircut who looks like he can’t hold himself upright. Billy thinks it’s the punk he bumped into earlier in the hallway as he stormed away from whatever show Steve Harrington thought he was putting on with that girl. The same kid who Tommy and Carol were picking on earlier as they entered the cafeteria- sending rude jeers and snickers his way about being “cursed” and “creepy”.

Tommy and Carol are jackasses. It doesn’t take a whole lot of time for Billy to put that together- they’re loud and inconsiderate, walking and acting like they have something to prove with everything they do. They look down their noses at everyone they can, despite Carol only being 5 foot and Tommy being not even a foot taller. They take up so little space but walk like they can make demands of the world. Small fish in even smaller ponds. Billy knows and hates the type.

But Steve Harrington… He’s 2 tables over and he’s laughing something loud and bright and handing the lanky dude some of his food in some kind gesture and he’s got his arm around that girl and he kisses her temple where her hair meets soft skin and- and Tommy is right. Who the hell does this boy think he is and why the hell does he think he gets to be that way so unabashedly? Where does he get off, shining so brightly that Billy can’t even hope to get near?

“Clearly he made a big mistake.” Carol mutters, paying adamant attention to her tray and looking pissed to high hell with the conversation at hand.

Ripping his eyes away from the laughing and joyful Steve Harrington does more harm than good, because it means Billy has to look at a sulking Carol and Tommy. Billy hates more than anything that these people are the best people for him to stick to. He’s not here to make life-long friends- he’s only got a couple of years until he can get the fuck out and back to California. He’s not clinging to any hope for happiness here, he just wants people who are popular enough to make life easy and tolerable enough to keep him sane. A year or two and that’s it, he’s out and can scrub all of this clean from his memory. And hell, maybe sharing a common enemy will give him something to do in the meantime.

Billy’s not even fully sure what Steve did to these two to have them bitching so much. Tommy’s been rambling uselessly and Carol seems about as sick of it as Billy is, regardless of her seeming to agree. Everyone else around them is paying no mind anymore.

 This shit must happen often…

The only information he’s gathered is that Steve was their friend and they had some violent falling out and now Steve walks around with the prissy girl and the punk-ass boy. It’s been a long 10 minutes already.

 Just two years...

“Not King Steve anymore.” Tommy bites out and that gets Billy listening.

“King Steve?” He scoffs at the title. “Are you serious? Who the hell called him that?”

“Everyone.” A girl chimes in- Billy doesn’t know her name. He stopped inputting information past a certain point.

“Why?” He asks over his orange juice carton.

Everyone at the table looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“Because he’s hot.” Carol supplies like it shouldn’t need to be said. Billy holds himself back from comment.

“He’s never had an awkward day in his life.” Tommy says, sounding just as bitter as before. “He acts better than everyone and we all just… agreed.”

At that, Tommy turns in on himself. There’s guilt on his face.

“He practically ruled the school.” Another girl adds, doing a fuck all job of reading the room as she swoons over her words.

And with all that, they’ve answered Tommy’s question.

 He knows exactly who he is. He’s the King, because they told him so.

Billy sends another look his way, to the boy that seems to have everything he could possibly need. The boy smiling and laughing. Somehow Billy doesn’t think this fallen “king” made that big of a mistake. This boy looks like he needs nothing more in his life than these two “losers” and a place to be with them… and Billy feels bitterness in himself growing ever faster.

“Yeah, well not anymore.” Billy growls darkly.

The energy shifts at the table- all the dejected faces of these people who have lost their effervescent leader turn hopeful onto Billy. He couldn’t have guessed to overthrow the “king” of Hawkins High on his very first afternoon, but he can’t say he fully dreads it.

 People doing what I say? Could be nice. It’s good to have people on my side… and it’s only two years.

“Yeah, not anymore.” Tommy nods in agreement, grinning through something sour still. Billy can’t say he really gives a shit about whatever this dude is going through.

“Anyone else to avoid?” Billy asks dismissively.

“Underclassmen mostly.” One girl complains. “God they are so annoying.”

“Some of them are worth a good screw though.”

The girl smacks the guy who just perked up. “You’re so disgusting.”

“I’m right.”

“Stop screwing freshmen! Just because you can’t get anyone else to touch your dick-”

Billy tunes out their bickering.

“I heard Julie’s a pretty good screw, too.” Tommy says lasciviously, clearly feeling more normal again. Carol doesn’t seem to be having it, though.

“I don’t trust Julie as far as I can throw her.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve heard some pretty good things-”

“She talks too much.” Carol crosses her arms indignantly. “It’s the people who talk the most that have done the least. Plus her mother is the town gossip, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? She never shuts her trap.”

Billy hates a gossip. He makes a face that Carol must register, because she’s giving him a look like she’s been proven right.

“Yeah, exactly. So unless you want a single kiss and everyone to know about your dick that she’s never even seen before, you’ll stay away.”

“Jealous?”

Carol turns to Tommy with a gasp. “You’ve never even touched Julie Warner, so don’t you start.”

Tommy’s grin is feral and Carol looks about ready to deck him, but she just scoots in closer to him and continues to pick at her tray of food.

The brisk fall air coming in from the open window feels like an insult. Billy looks outside and wishes it smelled of salt rather than pine. Wishes the trees weren’t so fluffy but rather slim and impossibly tall. Wishes the world wasn’t quite so gray and brown and hopeless. Wishes, wishes, wishes…

He shoves his hands in his pockets for some protection and feels out the crumpled neon invite he dismissively shoved away before.

“What about... Tina?” He asks with general disinterest, reading from the paper in his hand. They shrug.

“Tina’s cool.” Carol admits. “Her mom is out of town on some business thing so the house is gonna be empty for the party.”

“Doesn’t really matter what Tina’s like though.” Tommy says, scraping the bottom of the applesauce container with his spoon like it’s his dying meal. “A party’s a party, right?”

Billy figures he can agree.

“You’re going, yeah?”

All eyes turn to Billy again, expectant. Suddenly, the weight of whatever “leadership” role he’s taken on has hit him. Maybe he should have just skulked in the corner and kept away from anyone’s attention. Maybe all those “freaks” they pick on had the right idea of lurking in the shadows and keeping your head down.

Then again, no. Talk is dangerous, and… Mr. Chief Hopper said it himself: “Not a lot to do around here but talk.” If they’re gonna talk, he’d rather control the conversation.

 Two years…

“Is there anything else to do in this piece of shit town?” He asks by way of an answer, with a sort of disgust he can’t wipe from his words.

They all laugh with mirthless agreement. Clearly, Billy was right. A boring old town full of cow shit and corn stalks- nothing to be proud of or excited about here. He’s surrounded by people itching to get out, just like him… except Billy’s not going to be like them. He’d bet his soul that at least half of these kids are gonna become burnouts trapped in the general area; like wriggling and desperate flies in a small town spiderweb.

“So, Billy…” The girl next to him purrs, scooting in and getting far too close for comfort. “Tell us more about California.”

Billy absentmindedly squirms out of her grip and silently begs for strength.

~~*~~

“I’m very sorry Billy,” Coach Walters or Wallens or goddamn Walrus says, not sounding very sorry at all. “But the roster was already decided over a week ago.”

They stop in front of his office, the man fumbling with a set of keys. Billy’s glaring down at them with furrowed and angered brows, feeling himself snarling at the clanging metal.

He looks up when the Coach does, his expression failing slightly at the almost sympathetic look on the coach’s face.

“I’m sorry. You’re just too late.”

“I can’t be too late.” Billy insists, voice straining a bit. He’s not going to say he’s been following the coach around desperately ever since school got out 20 minutes ago, asking and pushing and borderline pleading to try out for the basketball team… because no one’s here to see it anyway so he doesn’t have to admit to shit.

“You are.” The coach sighs, reaching out to grab the equipment from Billy’s hands. He offered to carry it, thinking it’d give him an edge of favor. Now Billy holds it back like it’s a hostage.

“You can make an exception for me.” Billy says assuredly. Coach Walrus shakes his head, bushy eyebrows low and deep frown unable to be hidden, even behind his abundant whiskery beard and mustache.

“I’ve given two exceptions already to other guys.”

“That’s not my problem!” Billy bites, holding back a wince when the coach frowns harder at him.

There’s a pause, a staring match that holds all of Billy’s hope for a decent time here in this wretched place. There’s nothing to do around here but wander the streets, and the temperature is dropping far too rapidly for that to be comfortable much longer. He doesn’t want to be huddling in the cold outdoors this fall, or god forbid by the time winter sneaks around. And there’s no way in hell that Billy is spending more time at home than he needs to. Billy’s got a few things going for him, but he could count those few things on one hand, and he’s not going to sit here and let one of those things be ripped away by being a week late when that isn’t even his fault.

He stares. He refuses to back down. He refuses to hand over the equipment.

“It is if you wanna make the team.” The coach says lowly. Threatens, if Billy had to guess… but there might be hope in that statement, and it keeps Billy from throwing the sports equipment down on the ground at his feet.

The coach stalks into his office. Billy follows.

“I was on my team back at home.” He tries quickly, heart pulling uncomfortably at the thought of it. He can’t think about things he misses, or he’ll get stuck.

“Alright, that doesn’t mean much.”

“We were in the best division in the state. We won championships.” Billy’s selling his former team way up. No one has to know, and certainly not this man. He only hopes he doesn’t look into it too hard.

The coach takes pause, eyeing Billy as he fiddles uselessly with paperwork on his desk.

“That says nothing about you as a player.”

Billy’s going to pull his hair out. He clutches the bag of dodge balls in his hand with a death grip.

“I can show you how I am as a player.” Billy grits out, vague recognition of threads breaking from under his grip. “If you just let me try out.”

The coach raises his eyebrow.

“You can put that equipment over in that corner.”

Billy looks down at the fraying bag and his popped out veins. He takes a few steps to toss the assaulted bag in the aforementioned corner.

“I just don’t have that kind of time right now, Billy-”

“Well I can vouch for myself.”

“I can’t just have kids vouching for themselves and getting onto our Varsity.”

“I was the best player on my team!”

Some would say that’s debatable, but-

“You were the captain?” the coach asks with a skeptical look. The words “best” and “captain” don’t have any correlation in Billy’s mind, but he nods his head anyway.

“Yes, I was.”

A lie. But it’s not like captain even matters, especially when the real captain was the son of the coach and mediocre at best.

“And do you have someone who can vouch for that?”

Billy reels. He hears a gruff, distant voice in his head.

 ... name and number… someone I can call… your best interest in mind...

He desperately wishes things could just be easy. He wishes it wasn’t such a witch-hunt to find someone who cares.

“You can call my coach.” Billy says, trying not to sound as lame as he feels. He’s fully aware his coach retired last year, it’s some new guy now that Billy didn’t bother to meet before the move. He knows if this man calls, he’s not going to get much by way of an answer. He’s hoping it’ll work in his favor- he seems so busy with fuck knows what that maybe he’ll just get sick enough of this to let it slide.

The exasperated sigh that leaves Coach Walrus seems like the nail in the coffin, Billy’s just not sure which coffin yet-

“Coach?” calls a voice, smooth and distant. “Coach Wallace?”

Another groan fills the room as the coach pushes past with an apologetic face to get back into the gym. Billy follows, feeling more flustered than he’d like. They’re not done here, they can’t be-

“Sorry Steve.” Coach Wallace laments.

 Steve.

The boy in question is standing in the door, mid-afternoon sun backlighting him with a glow that makes Billy want to hurt someone. Maybe him. Maybe there’s something to be said of Billy wanting to destroy every pretty thing he sees.

Steve looks at him with confused curiosity in his eyes. Billy can’t help but puff his chest out at the evaluation- maybe Steve even rakes his eyes up and down Billy.

But Steve looks away quickly. Billy tries not to deflate.

“Are you still coming by for dinner?” Steve asks, looking at the coach. Billy scoffs. Steve glares.

“Oh, yes, sorry Steve. I hope I’m not keeping your parents waiting-”

“Nah, if I know my mom she’s still mixing drinks and… making hors d'oeuvres or something.”

 The fuck is an “or derve”?

The coach and Steve laugh. Steve’s laugh is too damn pretty. Billy thinks about ways he can wrap his hands around a laugh.

“I just came by to ask if you still need help getting to my house.”

“Oh yes, if you could. I’ve been there so many times, you’d think I’d have the trip down by now.”

“Eh, it’s a little out of the way.” Steve shrugs, popping out his hip, hands in his pockets. His nonchalance is liable to drive Billy to murder. “I just uh… I’ve got somewhere to be tonight and I’ve kind of gotta… get ready for that. But no rush-”

“Ohhh… a nice date tonight?”

 Get ready, huh?

Steve rubs the back of his neck, smile sheepish. He’s just so polite.

“Eh it’s… it’ll be something.”

“Alright well then let’s-”

Billy clears his throat as loudly as possible.

“Oh! Sorry Billy uh... “ The coach heaves another sigh, like Billy couldn’t be any more of a burden. Billy fucking hates that sound. “Look. I’ve made a lot of exceptions already, but you seem committed to wanting to be on this team and lord knows we could use the commitment here. So… I’m taking your word for it just this once. Practice is right here every weekday right after school except for Mondays, alright?”

“Got it.”

“If I decide at practice that you’re not up to snuff, don’t throw a fit with me.”

“That won’t happen.”

Billy doesn’t specify which one he means. The coach seems to notice.

“I mean it.”

The coach points a thick, red finger in Billy’s face, his own very serious. And with that, he’s turning back towards Steve and leaving the gym. Steve is still standing there, backlit by the sun, leaning against the door and only shifting to let the coach leave first.

He peels his eyes away from Billy, looking impossibly and offensively disinterested.

And fuck Steve Harrington.

That’s the consensus that Billy’s brain has come to as he climbs into his bed that night, the nippy chill of the late October Indiana air seeping in through his drafty windows. It hasn’t even been 24 hours to come to this; it seems as though everything in this town can be ruined in a matter of 24 hours or less.

He’s fitful as he sleeps, as always. And as always, his sleep is mostly blank images and stressful feelings. However, every now and then, in between the anxious dark, he sees a sort of prettiness he wishes he could get his hands on and wring out- violently.

~~~~*~~~~

In his 16 years of public schooling, there’s one important lesson Billy has learned: being popular isn’t as important as being intimidating.

He could be the most friendless, insignificant sap on campus- in fact, Billy’s starting to think he would have preferred that option -but being feared is the only status of any worth. Being feared means no one talking shit about him. Being feared means everyone bending over backwards to get on his good side. Being feared means no trying to shove him around or trying to pick a fight because they know he’ll dish it out just as good as he can take it.

Back at home, Billy got into fights outside of school. Plenty of them. Enough to have all the students know he wasn’t one to be messed with. More than a few bruised faces and black eyes told everyone to never dare accuse him of empty threats. But here, in Bumfuck, Indiana with only the cows and their shit for company, no one knows a single thing about him. He’s just the latest newcomer who happened to ride in on a glittery California wave.

He figures this blank slate has given him a few options: hope someone starts a shitty rumor about him, start that rumor himself, or get in a fight.

He’d rather anything but that last one. No part of him wants to expel more energy than is absolutely necessary in this place. Everything’s easier when you let others do the work for you.

And for as angry as he’s been these last couple of days, he’s tired most of all. Tired from new homes and new time zones and new schools and new roads and new people and the same old expectations he’s always had to deal with… he’s just tired. There’s too much figuring out to be done. For as boring as this shitty town is, nothing’s normal here. He doesn’t want to have to do so much to exist comfortably. And he certainly doesn’t want to have to waste the energy on beating someone’s face in if he doesn’t need to.

He wants all of the benefits with none of the work. If he can get through this by staying low and having everyone assume more of him than he’s willing to give, things will be good.

He just has to get through it. And getting through it tends to be the hardest part.

He hears talk. Lots of it. None of it is quite what he wants yet. It’s only been a day, but every second counts when it comes to reputation, especially when that reputation is riding on a rumor. By the end of next week the momentum will die down and he knows he can’t wait that long. So he listens intently to the talk around him- mentions of “rockstars” and “roads paved gold” and “is that a scar?” and that’s what catches Billy’s ear the most. There’s hope filling in him that maybe he’ll get exactly what he wants.

“He doesn’t deserve an exception. He just moved here.”

The voice is coming around the corner from where Billy is shoving useless books into his locker. It almost sounds familiar, but in a way that grates at Billy’s ears.

“I don’t know, man.” A far less familiar voice responds.

“He’s cocky.” It’s spat out with disgust. The boys can’t see Billy if he can’t see them, but he knows the words are about him. He can feel it tugging in him. “Why does he think he gets special treatment?”

“You get special treatment, too.”

“What? No I don’t.” The familiar voice is a petulant little whine now.

“The coach visits your house all the time.” And that’s what seals it.

This guy is talking to Harrington.

“... okay but that’s different though.”

That’s Steve Harrington. With his self-entitled confidence and his irritated whine. He’s not getting what he wants and he’s pissed about it. Or maybe it’s more than that. Billy is clutching his last book with white knuckles, wondering why his being on the team means anything to this rich little prick.

“You weren’t even here for tryouts, were you?” It’s the other guy. Billy’s seeing red. “You were still on vacation, but Coach let you on the team anyway.”

He can hear Harrington stutter, grasping for straws on how to defend himself.

“Yeah but... But that’s just different c’mon man, you know that. Coach knows me, he doesn’t know this… asshole.”

“He might be good for the team.”

“Who cares? He’s a pain in my ass.”

Billy doesn’t realize how hard he slams his locker until he rounds the corner and sees wide eyes and open mouths. He realizes he doesn’t care far quicker, though. His fists are clenched hard, knuckles cracking. People are whispering. He can’t hear their words. He’s staring down this stupid boy with his pretty face and wants so badly to see it ruined. Wants so badly to take one of the many things this self-centered prick gets to have as his own. Wants to ruin what he has- wants to rid him of even half of that privilege.

Harrington’s face is shocked, but it washes away into dismissiveness. He raises his nose up.

“He’s just a worthless poser. He doesn’t belong on the team.”

Billy seethes.

But Harrington doesn’t see it, because he’s turned around and walked away. The other guy is still standing there, gaping, before he walks away too, but Billy barely realizes. He’s got laser focused vision on Harrington. Billy’s fists flex.

He wants to do something. He wants to hurt him. He wants to chase him down the hall and get his hands into him. Feel his flesh under him. Feel him writhe under him.

He wants him gasping for air and pleading.

His chest fills with bile just at the thought… the thought of wanting…

Billy turns and walks the other way.

He doesn’t know why he does it. He still sees Harrington’s face in his mind, dismissive and uninterested, and then it all morphs into just shapes… and there’s more energy coursing through him now than there has been since he first stepped foot on the soft and muddy Indiana soil- and it’s poisonous. It’s the sort of energy that wrecks through his body, making his limbs shake and his heart race until he’s finally got his hands on something. It’s the sort of energy that makes him feel sick when he thinks back on it afterwards… that makes him feel like a familiar monster. The sort of thoughts that make his heart race with anxiety alongside the adrenaline. There’s just a scary kind of freedom in roughing someone up- he’s big and he’s strong enough. He’s worked hard for it. There’s control in taking it into his own hands. It feels like all he can do sometimes. All he needs is to get a good grab. He can get anything within reach. He just needs a reason.

“Hey, Hollywood… what’s with the red face? Can’t handle a little Indiana sun-”

There’s a reason.

He doesn’t register anything until he’s in the front office, being sternly spoken to by the vice principal. He gathers from the conversation that he gave the guy a bruised stomach and he “should be lucky it only got that far” because “from what I’ve heard, you’ve got a new coach. And he doesn’t take kindly to this kind of behavior.”

Billy doesn’t even think about it until later that night, when he’s getting ready for Tina’s stupid party and hears those afternoon words repeat through his mind. Words questioning his worth, questioning his character, threatening to take away something he just barely got… all because he got angry. All because he couldn’t handle himself. All because he’s a mirror. He’s just a reflection of all the worst things he sees...

No, it happened because of Harrington. Because of Harrington most of all. Yeah. Because Harrington couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut or his shitty opinions to himself. Because Harrington has a face too pretty for his own good.

 Fuck Steve Harrington.

~~~*~~~

Billy likes it loud.

Everything. Everything loud.  Loud music, loud sex, and certainly loud parties. Loud parties bring a comfort that quiet ones could never hope to grasp. Billy can’t be around this many people without his body vibrating from constant energy. Without his eardrums shaking from the wailing music.

There’s no thoughts to be had while inverted and chugging watery beer out of a dirty, spit soaked keg. He gets a high off of the overstimulation, his body rushing itself over with adrenaline. Then he kicks his foot, and the guys at his ankles let him down, and his ears are buzzy enough to drown out the cheering he can see is taking place in his honor. His heart is thumping heavily. The cheers get louder as his blood settles back into its regular flow. He can feel large hands patting and pawing his shoulders and back.

He cheers along with them, vibrating with the words he’s saying even though they’re gibberish to his ears. There’s no need to be coherent as he shouts, wandering back into the house and cutting through the crowd of people as he puffs his cigarette. He feels a hand- must be Tommy’s -lingering on his back and shoulder. Hit him there. Stay there. Lingering lingering. He’s too out of his mind, too out of place to care too much.

Being drunk makes it easier to stay at this lame party. Most of it is blurry to him, what with his stuttering movement and the way his eyes have started to water after being upside down for so long. He’s fixated on streamers hanging from the ceiling, figuring they must actually be toilet paper now that he’s got his hands on them, pulling them absent-mindedly from the ceiling like a cat with yarn. He’s dizzy with everything, suddenly aching for something for his mouth to do, thinking of going for his cigarette again or even tonguing at the paper when-

 Fuck.

He keeps a good grip on the toilet paper, hardly realizing that he’s bringing it with him as his focus is completely honed in on a figure leaning up against the nearest wall. He pushes past writhing bodies, vaguely hearing the music as it shouts over all of them. There’s only one person Billy cares about right now- maybe only one person he’s cared about all week.

He doesn’t have words and doesn’t feel he needs them. Tommy’s scratchy voice says all he needs him to.

“We’ve got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington.”

Billy stares Steve Harrington down with fervor, but he can only see himself in the reflection of Harrinton’s glasses. He’s blurry even to himself, and it leaves him angry.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Is the voice of another guy Billy never bothered to remember the name of. “Yeah, eat it, Harrington!”

Harrington takes his glasses off then, face looking every bit as serious as Billy feels. They just stare as time vibrates around them. Or maybe it’s just Billy. Billy still has no words in his throat, and especially not with Steve’s eyes on his. Billy thinks, briefly and loosely, about how he still wishes he had something to do with his mouth right now.

And then it’s just as always- as if Billy couldn’t be more boring if he tried -because Steve looks away with disinterest. He shifts his focus over to Tommy and his lips curl into something that straddles the line of a smile and a sneer.

“Harrington, huh? Whatever happened to Stevie?” He asks it in a way that makes Billy’s blood run hot in a way that isn’t just anger. It gets Tommy shifting nervously. Harrington’s smirk just grows wider.

His eyes flick back over to Billy for a quick second, before leaning in and speaking seriously to Tommy: “You can tell your new King I hope he enjoys all my sloppy seconds.”

Tommy’s face burns a bright red but Billy can’t see that because he can’t look away from Steve. He’s a whirlwind of everything violent and intoxicated and overwhelmed and far too strong. He sneers, ready to lunge but his body won’t let him. His feet are planted.

“Happy Halloween!” Harrington chirps, looking far too happy and far too satisfied and far too bright in his all-black outfit as he walks away. And Billy wants to lunge at him. Wants to spit out all of his hatred. Wants to blame his whole life on this one guy as he saunters away.

But Tommy stalks away with a dark mutter. And then there’s a crowd sweeping Billy up and leading him back over to the dance floor.

And it’s times like these Billy is glad it’s loud, because he doesn’t need to speak to anyone. But it’s times like these where Billy hates it loud, too, because loud means people. Lots of people. People touching him and writhing against him and sweating on him. His stomach starts to churn with the way everyone is undulating around him.

He shoves his way towards the window, seeing most people have migrated either inside or out back, now that the keg seems to be empty. There’s a few stragglers still coming in fashionably late, lots of cars parked outside, but there’s a small patch of dried grass over to the side that’s completely vacant. It looks like a haven right about now. He pushes through the crowd until they part like the red sea for him, giving him the chance to stumble outside and lay out on the grass.

When he gets there and flops himself down, he laments how rough and scratchy it feels. He silently cusses out Tina and her folks, figuring there’s no way it can be drier here than it is back where he’s from, down near the border where they're in a drought most of the year and the heat dries up the plants. Figures they must just be cheap. Can’t even take care of their own lawn.

And Billy wonders who he’s kidding. His old man is the same damn way.

He lays back, head feeling woozy from leaving the heat of all those bodies and heading straight into the crisp fall air. While the grass is harsh and offensive against him, he’s still grateful for the stability now pressed against his back. For a second, quick and warm, he feels fully safe.

And if there’s anything to be said for Hawkins- for all of Indiana and the piece of shit Billy still firmly believes it to be -it’s the night sky. It’s every star above Billy that’s winking back at him crystal clear. It’s the hundreds of them… hell maybe thousands of them that are in view right now on the crunchy grass next to Tina’s house.

San Diego was vastly different. Even in the small towns bordering it, the stars could never be this abundant and bright. Only when Billy and his friends dared each other to paddle out into the ocean on their surfboards late at night could they see anywhere near this many stars. Only on the farthest and most secluded corners of the beaches, or the very tip of the more vacant piers.

There’s some comfort and some pain when Billy thinks about how these are the same stars that can be found in San Diego. Roughly. Right? It’s certainly the same Fall moon. It’s a different breeze hitting him right now, chilling him down to his bones and making him wish he was on that surfboard. Wishing he and his friends were talking about something stupid and childish. Wishing the harsh ground beneath him was rocking like a rolling wave.

Billy’s always hated wishes. Despised them. He never gets anything he wishes for. They’re not worth the breath.

Still somehow his brain never quite gets the memo.

He’s dizzy with booze and people and wishes. He’s staring at the stars, watching them twinkle, wondering how the real search out here in the boondocks is for a plane in the sky rather than a celestial body, and he wishes for things. He wishes for pretty things. Wishes for things he can get his hands on. Wishes for ease. Wishes for salty breezes. Wishes for seagulls. Wishes for seashells. Wishes for and wishes for and wishes for-

He hears the door open and slam- heavier now than it has been as people wander into the party late. He sits up quickly, immediately feeling that keg he chugged earlier and that joint he hit before getting here and those beers he had in the car ride over and-

Someone is trudging down the walkway, smacking bushes angrily as they go. Billy watches with unfocused eyes, noticing first the dark outfit and then the coiffed hair.

“Harrington!” Billy shouts after him, heart pumping quickly, watching as the boy doesn’t slow even for a second. He heaves himself off the ground, head feeling heavy, wondering if his eyes are deceiving him or not. “Harrington, you…”

The boy’s steps falter. He shifts his attention, just a little, in Billy’s direction and there he is. That pretty face. Billy hates the way Harrington shifts his attention away so quickly, just like always. As if Billy couldn’t be any more worthless if he tried. As if Harrington himself is the one deciding factor of something like that.

So Billy starts to walk after him, his own steps lazy versus Harrington’s urgent pace.

“How’s it feel? Huh?” Billy’s mouth feels like mush, so he yells louder to compensate. “Being such a loser? Losing everything you had?”

He watches as the moon illuminates the bit of Harrington’s pale neck exposed to the air. He wants his nails in this boy’s skin. He wants to dig into him and under him in every way. He wants a lot of things he can’t stand to put into words.

Harrington still isn’t looking. His stride still isn’t breaking. Billy is pissed, tries to walk a little faster, tries to yell a little louder.

“Must really suck doesn’t it, champ? Hm? Knowing you don’t mean anything to anyone anymore.”

If Billy isn’t mistaken, Harrington starts to walk faster. It feels kind of good and kind of sick to see him react. So he keeps yelling after him.

“Knowing you’re nothing to them now, eh hot shot?”

Harrington’s steps get heavier. Billy feels a cackle rising up through his throat.

“Knowing you lost it all-”

“God, no one gives a shit about you!” Comes a voice that startles Billy, knowing it’s not his own, but rather Harrington’s. He’s damn near screeching as he spins around quickly. His face is bright red, even in the dim light of the night, and his expression is folded into rage. “Not a single shit!”

Billy nearly falls as he stumbles back, suddenly being faced with a shift in momentum. He cements his feet to the grass as best he can, staring down Harrington and his dark eyes. His mouth falls open in his shock.

“They?” Harrington continues, gesturing wildly to the house behind them. “Aren’t worth anything. They’re gonna forget you in a month, tops. And then what do you have? Huh?”

Billy blinks, bewildered and suddenly boiling, Because how dare he… how dare he-

“Who cares what you have to say! You mean nothing! Just get the fuck away from me.”

And then Steve turns back around, stomping down the street, probably to find his car. And Billy watches after him, stumbles backwards a bit, clenches his fists tightly. The words stick to the cold air like a tongue to a frozen pole, rushing around Billy’s head in heavy, dark promises. In harsh and brittle words of truth.

 No one gives a shit…

His knuckles crack again with how hard he’s clenching them, and he moves to go after him with his fists- but he fumbles. His head is spinning with harsh truths now too. Everything feels wrong and sour. He tries to chase after him, go get his hands on him, to make him pay- but he just stumbles forward like he’s a deer with newfound legs.

And Billy wishes. Billy wishes with all his might to get his hands on something tangible and breakable and fragile.

He can’t help it… he watches Steve pull away and down the road, driving faster than Billy’s heart is beating. Billy feels wreckage inside of him.

He turns back to the party to shove his way through the crowd, to grab another drink, and to get the hell out of here.

#Billy Hargrove #Steve harrington #Steve Harrington still being an asshole supremacy rise up #i say as if I have not been a part of the problem #fic #yearning #angst #stranger things #tommy hagan #carol perkins #i had a sort of a revelation recently about Billy and how I feel about him #and how I feel about a lot of plots with characters who seem violent but broken #you know that scene in Punch-Drunk Love where he says he wants to bash her face in and she says she wants to rip his eyes out and suck on #them??? yeah.... yeah I just think Steve and Billy would turn into that #i think Billy disassociates and wishes to do violence bc sometimes I disassociate and wish to do violence and even tho I don't do violence #I do understand #y'know?? does this make sense?? #you feel so much you are so overwhelmed all you can think to do is *squeeze* and squash and hurt and cry #and rip and shred and tear??? #yeah..... yeah.............

[voooorhees]

As much as I'm shy as hell to ask, could you please write for Billy x fem!reader in which they both fall for each other but he he was still with Sidney and have to do something about it first?

Thank you

Yes! I’m trying to go through my ask box cause i finally have time to do some :) I thought this would make a nice little short story

Falling

billy loomis x reader

warnings: fluff, mentions of murder

Billy didn’t know how to handle his emotions- it was very evident in his newer “pastimes” he developed with the help of Stu. Murdering was a way for him to release all these pent up feelings in a way that didn’t leave him feeling vulnerable and weak as those emotions amplify everything else. As for his current dilemma, he had a plan that Stu helped him with. The two of them would throw a party when Stu’s parents were out of town- they planned everything, making sure the smallest details were known. Billy would finally get rid of one of his biggest issues, that issue being his current “girlfriend” Sidney Prescott, and by getting rid of her he could finally have what he needed. Like a starved man being allowed food, he needed you like nothing else but he had his little issue to work through first.

You had noticed something off about Billy, he was a little distant more recently but you brushed it off as this month would be the one year anniversary of his mom abandoning him and Sidney’s mom’s murder- that and the recent killings had made everyone act off. Seeing how spacey he seemed while walking through the halls with you, Sid, and Stu, you decided once Sid left that you would invite the boys to have a movie marathon at your house, seeing as both boys got an odd confort in on-screen bloodbaths and terror, you were just a “casual” fan, something Billy would lightheartedly mess with you for, claiming that since you him and Stu were always watching something together, you should be as into the movies as them. You asked the boys before entering the last class of the day if they wanted to go to your house later and they agreed. You said your byes to them as you entered the class.

After class had ended, you went to try and find the boys at the usual after school meeting spot but you only met up with Sidney and Tatum. Sidney seemed like she had been crying and Tatum was more defensive today so you just decided to go home, “why bother finding them if I’m just gonna be yelled at by Tate?” you thought to yourself, wanting to save a headache. You walked alone to your house but something was wrong, the front door was unlocked, your parents cars weren’t in the driveway, and when you went to enter your room you noticed the door was slightly ajar. Knowing something was up, you quietly set down your bag and slowly opening your door.

To your surprise Billy and Stu were the only ones occupying your room.

“What the hell guys?! Couldn’t have you left a note that said you were here before giving me a heart attack?” You spoke, holding a hand over your quickly beating heart. You went to say another smart remark but you finally read the duo’s expressions. Stu’s face held a stern expression that quickly made your worry return and Billy’s was the same spaced out face as earlier.

“Hey is everything okay? You two haven’t seemed your normal selves today, did i do anything?” You questioned them, taking a seat on the bed next to Billy, Stu perched on your desk. No words were spoken but the look the boys gave eachother was like a silent conversation, the two of them easily communicating through small, seemingly unnoticeable gestures. Billy nodded at Stu, almost telepathically giving him permission to speak.

“Y/n, you didn’t do anything so don’t worry, you’re okay, it’s just...we have an issue and we don’t know how to work it out” Stu spoke softly, idly messing with his hands and not looking you in the eyes. Billy finally sat up from his lazed limp position. He ran his hands over his face before exhaling and looking at you

“Y/n I’ve told Stu about this a few months back but I never had the nerve to tell you and the issue is Sid. Ya see, I want to break up with her but it seems like now if I did, it’ll ruin her but with what i’m feeling, feelings i’ve had for as long as I can remember, I just can’t do it with her anymore”

Your eyes widened at his statement, shocked. “Billy you have to do what makes you feel the best, for your sake, you can’t control what she feels and it’ll be a weight on you for a while and if dropping that weight is what you need to do, then do it, it’ll feel wrong for a while but you’ll come to realize it was what you needed-“ you tried to get out before being cut off

“Y/n, the thing is, I never loved her. I couldn’t bring myself to love another person when the person I’ve loved was you” All he did was look you in the eyes and your whole being went through a double take, going from being cold to a heat wave coursing through you and showing as a blush on your face. You tried to speak but all you could do is stammer, eyes wide and taking in how a small smile crossed over his face. Stu just grinning dumbly at your blabbering. Billy leaned over, closing the small gap between the two of you and kissing your forehead softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug, holding you there for a second until you returned the gesture. You never thought he would have these sorts of feelings about you, and his revelation shocked you to your core. You leaned back out of the hug to say something back to him but he shut you up before getting a word out with a simple kiss to your lips, a smile showing on your face now, “Billy, I-“ you tried to speak out

“Y/n I already know how you feel, you know how we both tell Stu everything”

“Yeah sorry y/n I just had to reassure him that you cared for him but i might’ve told him a bit more” Stu laughed out, getting up off your desk and walking over to your spot on the bed. “Anyway uhm, since we got this whole situation over with, can we pick a movie and i’ll order food?” Stu said, pulling out a few movies out of the bag on the floor.

The three of you finally settled on a movie, it was a simple b-list film that the film store had just gotten in. You took up your normal place on the couch- in the middle of the two boys, but this time Billy pulled you a bit closer and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling slightly drowsy.

You ended up asleep on Billy’s chest, legs laid out on Stu’s lap- not that he cared because the serene expression that befell his best friend’s normally blank face made it not matter as he was finally truely happy with how his friend felt.

As you entered a deep sleep, the boys carefully wrote down the final plans on a notebook page that they passed back and forth, making notes on how to do everything together correctly and how to pass off a grief stricken father-turned killer into the reason for the planned downfall of the party. The plans were perfect, both had decided.

Once the party came around and all the “issues” were dealt with, the boys could finally have what they wanted. Billy could have you without having to worry about any obstacles in the way and Stu having his two best friends. Billy finally decided that it would all matter in the end if it meant he could spend moments like this all the time with you.

All you knew was he was planning to break up with Sid. That’s all you would know up until the night of the party until a masked figure cornered you in a unused room, knocking you out.

That’s all that you could remember when you were questioned by the police after being released from the hospital. As you left the interrogation room, your heart quickened at the sight of the two boys being led out of another room to leave. After being escorted out of the police station and meeting with the boys, they told you how Sid’s dad went crazy and butchered everyone at the party and how he attacked and nearly killed them, they even showed the stitches they received from the hospital. But the scars or the massacre wouldn’t matter to Billy. His issues were gone and he had just what he wanted. His best friend and the girl he truly cared for- no fake scheme to frame anyone, just what he wanted.

#scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons

[theonewiththefanfics]

Upside Down (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being a Henderson, the Reader never thought the Billy Hargrove would even spare her a glance, but she was wrong. He absolutely fell for her. And she fell for him. But the Upside Down doesn’t like it when people are happy.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Henderson!Reader

Genre: angst/ fluff

Warnings: descriptions of gross wounds and gore, swearing, could be potentially triggering to domestic abuse survivors, kinda PTSD

Word count: 7911 (a big boi)

I’ve mixed up the timeline and events a bit so that they fit this story :) Also note - I don’t condone Billy’s actions in the show. Abuse in any form is NOT okay. This is basically an AU! when looking at it

Hawkins was anything but what Billy had expected when moving to the small town. He’d set his mind on a place where nothing ever happened, the people were the dullest shades of grey, and the only resemblance of happiness he’d ever experience again, would be through the couple of pictures he’d managed to grab before moving from California. And he’d been right. Sort of.

Billy had been a wave of excitement that rolled into Hawkins High School in a long while, which meant all the attention was on him, and he liked it. He was splashy and wanted to make an impression, no matter how it went. He wasn’t there to make friends, just to finish his degree, and then he’d be free to go off and do whatever he wanted. But before he could do that, he had to make a statement.

The opportunity came to him at Tina’s Halloween party. Dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, a bandana around his blond hair, Billy’s chest was left exposed, and when he sprayed out the leftover beer as he demolished the keg stand, he certainly cemented himself as the new king of Hawkins. 

People buzzed around him, and he revelled in the attention, but then he saw something that turned his world upside down even more that it already had been. Or rather a someone.

Clad in a black beaded corset that rattled rhythmically with every step and sway of her hips, fishnet tights on her legs, sheer gloves that wrapped around her middle fingers up to her elbows, and a cheekbone length black bob, she was the epitome of a 1920s cabaret dancer; sultry and sexy, ready to destroy a man’s life. Some musical came to mind, but he couldn’t pinpoint which, because she took his breath away much like the cigarette smoke invading his lungs.

He nudged Tommy’s shoulder and pointed at the girl with his chin. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Nancy, come on dude.”

“No, I mean the girl next to her,” and this time he pointed directly at her.

Tommy’s eyebrows looked like they were about to shoot up in the stratosphere. “Y/N? You mean Y/N Henderson?”

That name changed everything, and he wasn’t even aware of it.

She was the other Henderson. A nerd, much like her brother, a bit shy but would never back down from a challenge and could never hold her tongue behind her teeth, even when it hurt her. She was the color the horrid town had lacked so much, and after how Tommy had put her down, Billy was just as surprised as she was when he started talking to her.

“Are you lost or something?” Y/N’s eyebrow rose as she faced the boy leaning against her neighbouring locker. 

“Uhh, no?” he chuckled chewing on his bottom lip.

“Okay, so, have you already gone through all the girls that would let you? Because you can skip right along to the next one. I ain't it.”

Billy bristled a bit, shifting on his feet. He hadn’t expected the spunk. “Can’t I just talk to a pretty girl?”

“No, because people like you don’t talk to people like me.”

Don’t get her wrong, she by no means thought she was ugly or undeserving of attention. She just knew had it not been for Nancy, the popular crowd of Vicky, Tommy, Carol and the like, would’ve never given her the time of the day. And nowadays they didn’t. So, when the new king of Hawkins decided to strike up a conversation, things just felt odd. 

“Nah, I just,” Billy fumbled a bit, “I uh, just wanted to get to know you. We didn’t get a chance to talk at Tina’s.”

Y/N closed her eyes and smiled before turning to Nancy and saying she’d catch up with her in chem class.

“Alright, Billy boy,” she turned back around to face the Californian. “Let’s get to know one another.”

The smile that appeared on his face was the most genuine he’d shown in a month. And somehow it didn’t end just there. He kept talking to her, meeting her at her locker, walking her to her car, or when it was at the repair shop, he offered Y/N a ride home. He laid his soul out to her on a silver platter, and instead of smashing it like he feared she would, Y/N took it in her hands and kept it safe within her grasp.

It was on a starry night when he’d chucked stones at her window to wake the girl up and made her sneak out of the house for a late drive to the ice cream shop when things took a turn.

“If Dustin comes back, and I’m not home, he’s gonna snitch on me, and I’m so gonna blame you,” she scolded Billy, but there was no animosity in her tone, and when she threw him a grin, it made his heart stutter in his chest.

It had been happening quite a lot recently. The stuttering. His heart skipped a beat when he woke up and thought of how he’d see Y/N waiting for him by her locker, it skipped a beat when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her next to him, and it skipped a beat when she rolled her Y/E/C eyes at whatever he'd said, and then hid her face in his side. And it scared him.

He’d never felt that way before, but he understood what it meant, especially when his chest got being ripped apart whenever she wasn’t near, so that’s when he started to drive to her place for their nightly outings because he just needed to be near her. Not that he’d say anything to Max, nor Y/N would ever mention it to Dustin. 

But unfortunately, as much as she laid out her own heart to Billy, there were also things she’d never tell him. Because her heart skipped a beat as well whenever the Californian entered her mind, and Y/N had already lost too much the year prior. His world hadn’t been the only one that’d turned upside down.

With his jacket draped over her shoulders, they crept around her house to the blue Camaro waiting a bit further down the driveway, so the lights wouldn’t give him away. Not that it would’ve mattered when her and Dustin’s mother was out of the town for the week, but they still liked to be as careful as possible.

Def Leppard blasted through the speakers, and they talked about what they'd done. It was a Saturday, so Y/N had spent the whole day at home, while Dustin hung out with the party. She needed the quiet as much as possible while dealing with a chem project, and that included Billy not visiting. When his phone had rung with her saying she was done, he was finally able to scratch the itch that was time spent without Y/N.

At that moment, they were sitting comfortably in the seats of the Camaro parked by Lover’s Lake and watching the scenery. She hadn’t told him how much nighttime actually scared her, but that was because, with him, she felt safe. It was alone when the thoughts of Barb and the Demogorgon came back. But never with him. Though what he said next, pulled her out of the dark reminiscing.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“What?” Y/N choked on her ice cream, looking over at Billy with eyes wide as saucers.

He took in a shuddering breath, but when he repeated the words they were as steady as ever. “Let’s go on a date.”

“Is this – is this some kind of a joke?”

Billy shook his head before taking away the melting ice cream in the little paper cup and placed it on the dashboard, taking Y/N’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

“Look I really like you. I have for a while, and yeah, it started off just like you’d like a friend, but now... when I see you, my heart does this weird thing where it starts beating really fast, and my stomach tosses and turns and shit… and that only happens when I think or look at you… so I like you. And I’d like to go on a date with you.

Stunned silence settled between the two teenagers as Y/N processed his words. He no longer could read her facial expression as it had turned into a blank piece of paper instead of the book, he used to be able to leaf through without any problems or hiccups.

A gentle finger pushed a piece of Y/H/C hair out of her face. “What’s going on through that pretty head of yours?” a nervous chuckle escaped him. “You know I can take whatever you throw at me. ‘S not gonna make me care less for you.”

“No, I uh,” Y/N snorted and shook her head, pressing her free hand to her mouth. “I just didn’t expect that from you.”

“What did you expect?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “I mean whenever you go out with girls, it’s never been with someone like me. And every time you did it, I pretended I was okay with it. Cause I cared about you too and wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.”

Billy’s eyes widened, and a small smile started pulling on his lips. “You were jealous?”

“Of course, I was! I’ve liked you for close to a month, but every time I heard you talk about taking a chick out, I pushed my feelings away.” Y/N looked at him and gave him a tight smile. “Love triangles aren’t like they show in the movies. Typically, there’re two happy people and one really sad who won’t show any emotions at all. Guess which one was me?”

He let out a short laugh and squeezed her hand a bit tighter, finally feeling free enough to press a kiss to the skin of her palm. “We’re both quite thick, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Y/N agreed, looking at their clasped palms that fit together like two puzzle pieces. Sure, they’d held hands before, this wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time with the knowledge their feelings were returned.

“Can I kiss you?” Billy asked. 

Y/N’s head shot up. He never asked to kiss someone, girls practically threw themselves at him to have their lips sucked off their face, but his shaky tone and scared eyes showed he was terrified she’d say no. 

Slowly she leaned in, and when he didn’t pull back, Y/N pressed her lips to his. It was absolutely euphoric for both of them. The days and weeks of pent up frustrations and heartache inducing thoughts evaporated as they moved their lips in a dance.

He didn’t want to pull back, and neither did she, but their lungs burned from the lack of air, though Billy didn’t let Y/N get too far, bringing a palm to the base of her neck to keep her close, foreheads resting against one another. Not that she wanted to get away in the first place.

“So, go on a date with me?”

Y/N grinned caressing his face and pulling him closer, much as he did with her, taking hold of her waist and helping her straddle him in the seat, hands keeping her hips away from digging into the steering wheel. “I don’t just kiss all the pretty guys who bat their eyelashes at me.”

When she was close to him like that, his heart flipped and skipped and revved and started once more, but now he loved the feeling because, through the three layers of fabric that separated their skins, he could feel Y/N’s heart beating out of her chest as well. 

“We can’t tell Dustin though,” she murmured pressing her lips to his in a quick peck. “He’ll rip our heads off.”

“Max too.”

“And Steve… and Nancy and Johnathan… basically the whole party.”

Billy nodded before diving in for another kiss. “Agreed.”

 ***

For a couple of weeks, they lived in a state of bliss. Now the late-night sneak outs were filled with kisses by the lake and hands that held one another as close as possible as if they’d disappear into thin air. But the happiness didn’t’ last long, and Billy couldn't find anyone to blame.

It was a pretty standard day for them, as he found Y/N talking with Nancy by her locker, up until he saw her facial expression. 

“ -ought we were done with that,” Y/N hissed. “Fuck, I can’t! I can’t lose more people.”

Billy frowned when he heard that. Yes, he knew she’d lost one of her friends, though he didn’t know the details, he understood how much impact that'd had on Y/N’s life, but when she talked about it happening again and losing people again, his stomach churned.

“Everything alright here?”

Y/N jumped, not expecting the voice, almost slamming her head against the locker, and her reaction made Billy even more scared.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Nancy squeezed Y/N’s bicep before leaving her and the boy on their own. 

Nancy wasn’t stupid and knew how much her friend cared for Billy and suspected there was more between them, so her heart ached at the thought how Y/N’s mind immediately went to the dark places where the Demogorgon lurked.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” 

His palms were like velvet as he cupped her face, and he didn’t care anymore if people found out they were together. All he cared about was what his girl was so fearful of. 

“Talk to me,” he whispered. “Please.”

But when she shook her head and plastered on the fakest smile ever, his heart shattered. 

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just Nancy reminded of the chem test coming up, and I’m so unprepared.”

She was lying to him. Y/N never did that, and he didn’t lie to her either. It was an unspoken rule they’d made up that there'd be no secrets between the two, but Billy now realized his girlfriend might have quite a few things he was unaware of. And she wasn’t planning on sharing. 

“You ready for calculus?” Y/N changed the subject and wrapped her hand around his waist, not even thinking of how people might start speculating. Even when they weren’t together, they were attached at the hip, and Billy was as soft as a feather around her. “Miss Baxter is gonna kill me with those equations.”

But Billy wasn’t listening to her rambles about math and unimportant things, because his heart was sinking with every step he took as the fear he’d had in him about Y/N rejecting him, came back almost tenfold. And when that cursed Halloween rolled around, it didn't help the situation at all.

Y/N was nowhere to be found, which was unsurprising to him at that point; she’d been pulling away hour by hour, breaking his already fragile belief in love. He was upset and pissed and had decided enough was enough. He wanted answers. 

Just as he was about to leave the house, Neil barged in, enraged Max was still out after her curfew.

“She’s probably with those friends of hers,” Billy said. “She’ll be back in no time.”

Neil stepped inside the room, and instantly the atmosphere changed. “You’re gonna go and find her, and then get the fuck back home.”

Billy straightened out, facing his father. He couldn't let him ruin what could still be saved. “I have plans! I need to see Y/N!”

“Your whore can wait.”

“Don’t you dare call her a wh-“ Billy's head slammed against his wardrobe, sparks flying behind his eyelids, and a hand tightly wrapped around his throat, cutting off the air.

“Now,” Neil’s voice was like the calm before the storm. “You’re gonna go out there, find your sister, and then come home. You’re not gonna go and see that slut, and you’re not gonna go to your friends. Understood?”

The hand squeezed tighter around Billy's neck, and he barely managed to rasp out a ‘yes’.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

Finally, Neil let him go, and he gulped breath after breath, his own hand going to soothe the skin where there would undeniably be finger marks left the next day. 

A single tear rolled down Billy’s cheek, as his poor excuse of a father left, Susan’s sympathetic gaze the last thing he saw before the door slammed shut. 

He crumpled down on the floor, fingers fisting in his hair. He felt so alone, and all he wanted was to be held by Y/N, but even she was pulling away. 

Angrily he wiped away the salty pearls from his face and stomped to his car setting off on his search for Max but not before delivering a few punches to the wheel. When he got to the Byers’ house, he wasn’t feeling any better. In fact, he turned worse, seeing red when Max's face flashed through the window. 

Like some angry bull, he went after Steve, pummeling him into the ground, and almost knocked a few punches into Lucas had it not been for Max and the tranquillizer she pushed into his system.

In all honesty, the night was a blur. He couldn’t remember how he ended up in his car, nor how he managed to safely drive to Y/N’s - the only place he knew someone would help him.

She had, but it backfired. He’d felt the distance between them grow even more afterwards, and he understood her reasons. Partially. After patching him up, he was left to rest in her bed, which gave her the time to find out what the hell had happened between him and the party. They had enough shit to deal with, with all the Demodogs and the Upside Down being back again.

When Max and Dustin spilt the beans (albeit reluctantly because they knew how happy their siblings were together), Y/N gave Billy the silent treatment for three whole weeks. She only started talking to him after he’d apologized not only to her but to the two boys one of which he'd beaten to a pulp. 

But it only helped a little. He got her back into his life somewhat, yet not fully, and right before the Snowball dance it all crumbled as she broke up with him.

To say he was stunned would be an understatement. He’d gone to her place expecting them to talk out their issues, and he could end it with asking her to go to the dance, but instead, she’d stood twelve feet away from him, arms crossed, eyes on the ground saying they can’t be together anymore. 

“I don’t understand,” he whispered looking at Y/N, hoping she’d meet his gaze. She didn’t. “I thought we were alright. If this is about Hallowe-“

“This isn’t about that night.” Y/N shook her head. “Well, it is. Kind of. But not all of it.”

“Then please explain, so I can fix it. Let me make things right.”

She let out a sigh and sat down onto the bed. “I can’t. And even if I did, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Is this about what happened to Barb?’

Y/N finally looked at Billy, her Y/E/C gaze meeting his blue. “Yes.”

That was it. No further explanations, no elaborations, no excuses.

“Y/N – “

“Can you please leave now?”

“Sweetheart – “

“Please,” she whimpered out, hugging herself. “Please just leave.”

And he did, but it felt like his body was fighting his mind, as his brain screamed to stay and comfort and hold, but his legs had their own agency, and carried Billy out of Y/N’s house, past a disappointed Dustin who’d been listening in on the conversation and shook his head, closing his door, and to his car where he sat for twenty minutes just staring into the distance trying to process what the hell had just happened.

When he went into school the next day, Billy was in a haze, his mind not really functioning.

“Where’s the leech?” Tommy H. cackled beside him, clapping Billy on the shoulder.

“What?”

“I asked where’s the other Henderson that’s always stuck to your side?”

“She uh,” Billy stopped mid-sentence. Tommy H. didn't need to know they dated. “We kinda fell out.”

“Fucking finally,” his ‘friend’ scoffed. “Told you she was a waste of time and space.”

Billy was just about ready to clock him, when his eyes befell on Y/N who finally entered the hallway. There was nothing left of the girl he used to know. She was now part of the grey mass Hawkins seemed to him in the beginning, but even then, she stood out, because even then she didn’t match the shades. She was darker, almost black without the spark that made Y/N Y/N. Billy wished she would turn grey, because he'd never been surer that's how it felt to look down an abyss.

The rest of the day was a nightmare. He had to watch from the side-lines as the person he loved most practically withered away. She was closed off, even to Nancy (which he found out after sucking up his ego and asking Wheeler), and he knew the issue ran much deeper than the simple confirmation of his suspicions, but he couldn’t help if she didn’t let him in. 

He wanted to reach out, he wanted her to use him as a shoulder to cry on, to wrap her arms around him and mumble all her worries into his skin, but any time Billy even so much as looked at her, Y/N would turn her blank stare to the window or the wall or the floor. Anywhere that wasn’t him. 

 ***

 Though when summer came along… summer was a different beast. Billy got a job at the pool, and Y/N got a job at the newly built mall in a department store, and when he saw the girl as she came to pick up Dustin and the rest of the party, she once again looked full of life.

She was practically glowing, and Billy had to say a quick thank you to whoever invented summer breaks, as it seemed, being out of the school environment, was what Y/N needed.

The canary yellow one-piece bathing suit made her seem like the ray of sunshine the teenager knew her to be, and the cobalt wrap around her neck was the summer sky that appeared after the dark clouds dissipated. Though what irked Billy was she still kept her distance from him, and as a surprise for Y/N, he wasn’t giving up.

The girl was there to pick Dustin up once again because he wanted to see Steve at ‘Scoops Ahoy’ before meeting up with the rest of his friends, so Billy took his chance.

She’d scoped out the open pool area for the blond boy, and was relieved he wasn’t on his shift, think it'd be a quick in and out. 

“Dustin, come on!” Y/N hollered. “We gotta go!”

But she wasn’t as sly as she'd hoped she'd be when a shadow started to loom over her. 

There was no doubt in her mind who it was, and her theory was confirmed when Y/N came face to face with the naked chest of Billy. It wasn’t the first time, she’d been in that position, but the circumstances used to be different. Back then, when the hole that were the thoughts and fears of the Demogorgon was the size of a pebble, Billy would be like that on top of Y/N, her nails scratching along the golden skin and leaving loving red marks as her lips worked on the side of his neck to muster up some purplish ones for him to remember her by.

“Hey,” he breathed out taking off his sunglasses.

“Hey yourself,” Y/N breathed out as well. She hadn’t been this close to Billy even before winter break, so all the suppressed feelings were starting to bubble up again, especially when he cleared his throat and reminded her how shy he could actually be, and it pulled at her chest even more. 

“Look, can we talk? Please? I just… I just want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m alright,” she shrugged. “Happy?”

Billy sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “You know I don’t believe you.”

“Then what do you want from me?” she crossed her arms motioning with her head for Dustin to hurry up.

“I want my girlfriend back,” Billy muttered just so she heard him and not the prying ears of the classmates that had gathered by the poolside. “If not that, then at least my best friend. I miss you.”

And she couldn’t deny the fact she missed him as well. Y/N’s own body language betrayed her. He could see how much she wanted to be wrapped in his warmth, and Billy prayed she’d give in and melt against him.

Finally, she sighed. “Are you closing the pool tonight?”

Billy shook his head, blond curls bouncing. “Heather is, but I can ask and switch.”

“I’ll be here at eight,” Y/N stated right as Dustin bounded up to her ready to leave for the mall.

 ***

 Eight couldn’t come fast enough. His shift felt like it was being dragged out by a supernatural force. By the time six rolled around, there was no one but Heather and him left to clean the poolside. Seven came, and Billy was on his own, mopping the men’s locker room, and wiping down the sauna door. An hour later, Billy was sitting on the edge of the pool, legs inside the warm water.

“Get any acceptance letters yet?”

Her voice brought him out of a trance, and he was about to jump up when she sat down beside him, putting her own legs in the liquid. In normal circumstances, Y/N would lean against him, and Billy would wrap her into his side, but they were no longer in the normal days.

“I mean I did only apply to UCLA, so waiting on that… if it even comes. Heather applied as well, and she received hers yesterday.”

“You’ll get in, Billy, don’t worry,” Y/N's tone was as soft as it was with him when they'd been together. “You’re smart, so don’t put yourself down, and I’m sure UCLA will see it too.”

“You?” he nudged her shoulder with his. “I remember you rambling on about NYU, Brown, Oxford and a bunch of others.”

She shrugged. “Not yet. Though with how last semester went dunno if I will. Kinda went off the deep end.”

Y/N knew Billy wanted to know exactly about that. Why did she suddenly shut down, what was the real reason she broke up with him and completely cut him out of her life, but the second she opened her mouth, finally ready to speak, the lights flickered around them. Instantly, Y/N froze and spaced out, much like when Billy had surprised her all those months ago by her locker.

“Hey, hey,” he cupped her face trying to get her attention. “Come back to me. You’re alright, you’re safe. It’s just me and you,” he placed a hand on her chest and one of hers on his. “Can you feel how I’m breathing?”

Shakily Y/N nodded. 

“Okay,” he nodded back. “Now try to breathe the same way. In,” he took a breath and watched as Y/N mimicked him. “Hold. And out.”

For five minutes as the lights continued to flicker and then finally went out, they kept on with the pattern.

“It’s just a blackout, sweetheart. And you’re not alone. Not if you don’t push me away,” he whispered pressing his forehead to hers. “Please let me in. Please let me be there for you.”

“You can be there for me without knowing why,” her voice still shook from the fright, but with Billy’s presence it slowly levelled out.

His grip on her wrist tightened and he brought it to his lips. “How can I protect you without knowing what to protect you from?”

“Why can’t you just trust me with this? That it’s better not to know.” This whole episode had proved Y/N's point to her – it was safer to not know. Especially for Billy. He already had enough shit to deal with at home.

“Because you don’t trust me to keep you safe.”

“I do,” Y/N sighed, standing up, defeated that he wouldn’t give up and stepped away. “And I love you even more, but I’d prefer if you were alive.”

“You can’t just say shit like that and then tell me not to worry! You can’t tell me I could die from knowing and walk around without me scared shitless!” he jumped up and walked after her, but when Y/N spun around, tears of anger in her eyes, he stopped mid-step.

“I’ve been dealing with this shit for three years now, and I lost one of my best friends because of it! Dustin almost lost one of his best friends! I can’t lose you too,” the last bit came out like a choked back whimper. “I’d rather you hate me than be dead.”

 ***

 That night hadn’t gone how she thought it would. Sure, Y/N had expected to be pretty much interrogated by Billy, but she hadn’t expected the blackout and the all-encompassing fear that erupted throughout her body when the lights blinked out. It was two days later when she finally decided to talk to someone about it

“I’m alright, Nance,” she sighed rolling over in her bed as she talked to her friend. “It was just… fuck. I don’t know when this shit will end. It’s like any time someone turns off the light, I start to see the shadows move and shit. I can’t go on like that.”

She heard some shuffling and muttering from the other end, and Y/N could only guess Johnathan was with her. “Look,” Nancy came back. “Maybe… maybe you can tell him. About everything. He could help us… he could help you, fuck, a blind person could see how much he calms you down.”

“I can’t do that; you know it, Nance! I can’t put him in unnecessary danger.”

“If you’re thinking about Barb, then please stop. This is not the same, in fact, it’s the opposite,” a thick silence settled between the two girls as they thought back to their friend. “Maybe had we known; I wouldn’t have let her leave.”

“Nancy, it wasn’t your fault,” Y/N choked back. “It’s no one’s fault but that monsters.”

“I know, but I’m saying had she known… had we all known, maybe we could’ve been more careful.”

Y/N had nothing to say against that. Had Barb known, maybe she truly would still be with them, and they’d still have their weekly girl’s nights. 

“I just don’t want to risk it. I don’t want to lose him,” she whispered to Nancy. “I can’t lose

him.”

“You’re already losing him by pushing him away.”

She hated Nancy was right, absolutely despised it, but it was Y/N’s safety mechanism, not only to keep the other out of harm’s way but herself as well. If she pushed away enough, maybe once Billy left her, it wouldn’t hurt as much. 

“Look, Johnathan and I will come over and we can have a chillout. Some shit’s been going on, so we need a bit of a break as well,” Nancy said. “And I ain’t suggesting. So, get cleaned up, we’ll come round and help you with the house, but if you look like a homeless man when we arrive, I’ll personally shave off your head.”

There was no room for arguments, especially when the long beep announced Nancy had dropped the call. So, with a sigh, Y/N peeled herself off from where she’d practically melted in the bed and trudged to her adjoined bathroom. She’d almost physically fought Dustin for it, but the ‘older sibling’ card had ultimately won. 

Per Nancy’s instructions, Y/N started to pull herself together. She ran a bath, adding some lavender bubbles and applied a facemask to the sun-kissed skin. It felt kind of tight after being outside by the pool when typically, she barely let the rays touch her, so it definitely needed some moisturizing. 

For the first time in a long while, Y/N felt relaxed, as the hot bubbles encased her. She let out a soft moan when her body was fully submerged and rested her head against the side of the bath. A soft smile appeared on her face when she thought back on the times, she’d done this with Billy and used him as a place to lay her head against. His rough palms would gently caress her sides and massage the knots that'd settled in her shoulders before bringing in her lips for a kiss. But that was the past. 

She pulled her hand out of the liquid cocoon and reached for the razor on the side of the tub. Her skin was slathered enough, that Y/N just decided to go for it, though, with the first stroke of the blades, a sharp sting wrapped around her ankle. 

“Shit,” Y/N hissed, instantly wiping away the blood and licking her finger. “Shit, fucking hell, really?”

As quickly as she could, she shaved both of her legs, without any injuries this time, and got out of the tub to go search for a band-aid. She dried herself off and pulled the old Jaws shirt she’d stolen one night from Billy and refused to give back, saying she preferred to sleep in something of his when he couldn’t be next, and took a pair of work out shorts as bottoms because the heat of Hawkins was unforgiving. 

A glance at the fridge where two notes stood, one from her mom saying she’d be out of the town for the remained of the week on a work trip, and the other from Dustin threatening Y/N if she even so much as looked at his portion of cookies while he was out he’d snap her neck, she scoffed and grabbed a couple of the chocolate chip circles. 

“Dickhead,” Y/N muttered through a stuffed mouth, reaching for a stool to get to their first aid kit.

Red drops had seeped through the tissue paper she’d wrapped around her ankle and splattered onto the floor.

A light flickered.

When Nancy and Johnathan pulled up, all they saw was the lights in Y/N’s house going haywire accompanied by screams.

 ***

 Meanwhile, Billy had had the shittiest couple of days of them all. After getting nowhere with Y/N, just more concerned for her wellbeing, he’d spent the nights in the garage working on his beloved Camaro, or inside his room, headphones on and AC/DC blaring through his Walkman. 

He’d tried calling, but when the phone went unanswered or when Dustin picked up telling how Y/N wasn’t even talking to him, Billy gave up. Maybe it was finally time to let it go and let her go. She seemed to have one hundred percent decided it was either Billy put on a mask of ignorance and they went back to how it used to be, or she wanted nothing to do with him. And Billy couldn’t pretend he didn’t care.

Aggressive banging against his door jerked him out of the self-pity hole he’d been in the past couple of days and towards the invader. Max’s face was unimpressed when he ripped open the door.

“What?” he growled. “What do you want?”

Pretty much everyone that lived in Hawkins piled into his room without a single uttered word – Dustin, Mike, Lucas, the new girl El, Will, Max, but what surprised him the most was Steve. 

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Billy puffed out his chest. “Need another round?”

“Do that, and you’ll never get back with my sister,” Dustin started, going over to Billy’s curtains and drawing them closed. “And you do want to get back with Y/N, right?”

“What kind of a question is that?” Billy scoffed.

“A simple yes or no,” Max butted in. “If it’s a no, then we’re leaving and you can continue to wallow in your misery, or you can sit down and let us explain.”

A sarcastic snort escaped him, but he relented. Plopping back onto the bed, he rolled his eyes giving Y/N’s brother the go for him to get on with whatever the hell he had to, as long as they’d leave him alone after this and never came in a five feet radius.

“You have to keep an open mind, cause this shit will sound absolutely crazy, but it’s a hundred percent true,” Dustin looked around at the rest of the people. When everyone had given an affirmative nod, he dove into the tale that began two years prior.

Throughout the whole recounting of how Will and Barb had gone missing, how Nancy, Y/N and Johnathan had ventured into the woods at night and had been greeted by a monster with a meat flower for a head and had had to hide for their lives, and how the kids had found El, all leading up to where she’d destroyed it with telekinesis, Billy was practically emotionless, apart from the moment when Steve said while him, Johnathan, Nancy and Y/N had been fighting the thing at Byers’, she’d barely escaped from the Demogorgon and had almost been caught in the flame trap they’d set.

“We thought we were done with that shit, but last year it came back, and it's back now too,” Dustin sighed looking over at Will who’d hung his head. “That’s why Y/N was pushing you away. Things were getting out of hand, and she was afraid the Mind Flayer might get to you. She was just trying to protect you in a really dumbass way.”

“So,” Billy cleared his throat leaning on the edge of the bed and resting his chin against his clasped hands. “You’re telling me your sister broke up with me because an interdimensional monster was terrorizing you and she was afraid it would go after me?” 

Dustin chewed on his bottom lip. “Well when you say it like that, it sounds insane.” 

“Because it is!” the blond exploded. “God, if Y/N didn’t want to see me, she could’ve just told me she didn’t have any feelings anymore, not make you tell me some bullshit story. I get you, Henderson, and I know you’re a dick, Harrington, but I didn’t believe you had that little brain left to go along with this shit.”

The bitter chuckle that made its way out of Steve’s mouth was almost like a cue for everyone to leave. “Yeah, well the thing is, I’m going along with it because it’s the fucking truth. But it’s your loss. She was always way out of your league anyway.”

The sudden shrill ring of the phone made everyone jump before Max ran out of Billy’s room to pick it up. 

“Did you not hear about the part where we said El’s got literal superpowers?” Mike butted in absolutely done with Billy, which made the older boy scoff. 

“Of course, I fucking did, but I decided to block it out, cause given how the whole story’s bullshit, it makes even less sense!” he gestured towards the girl, who’d been standing somewhat behind Mike the whole time. “Come on then! Give us a show!”

“No, you know what, El?” Will popped in. “Don’t. If he doesn’t want to believe us, then so be it. You’re not some circus freak to entertain people. Like Steve said – it’s his loss. This whole thing was a waste of time.”

As everyone left Billy’s room, leaving him to ponder what the fuck had just happened, he heard Max’s panicked voice, and how the kids with Steve in tow sprinted out of the house.

“Hey!” he yelled after the redhead, who only stopped for a second before rushing to Steve's car. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“To Dustin’s. Y/N’s hurt.”

 ***

Those words, no matter what they’d told him before, struck true, and Billy bolted to his own Camaro, following Steve almost to the point he crashed into the vehicle a couple of times when the other guy pressed on the brakes.

Yells of pain greeted him when he jumped into the night air and rushed inside the now-demolished house. Lamps and glass littered the ground in jagged pieces, couch and pillow fillings dusted around like sprinkles on a cake, but the worst sight was the scarlet drops of blood on the walls and ground, some places oozing black like puss from a wound.

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” Billy could hear Y/N’s panting from where her room was, and practically showing her brother out of the way, ran to the pain-filled voice, but was stopped in the middle of the doorway when seeing Johnathan with a blazing white knife in hand. It made bile rise in Billy’s stomach, but what put him on the verge of throwing up was what happened next.

“What the –“ Johnathan exclaimed, noticing the Californian’s arrival, but instantly switched when the kids ran in Y/N’s room, completely unaffected by how everything looked. “El, hold her down,” Johnathan said, and in an instant, Y/N was no longer trying to get away from him.

She was stiff as a statue, eyes wide and filled with fear and pain, while El’s nose had a little stream of blood running from it, an outstretched hand towards Y/N, radiating unseen power that immobilized the girl he loved. 

Everything the kids said, had said had been true. All of it, him being a witness to El’s telekinesis firsthand. Mike's gagging made him snap out of the daze and run to Y/N’s side where he pulled her to rest against his chest

“There’s something in there!” the youngest Wheeler shouted as Johnathan moved closer, kneeling down on bloodied rags that reeked of metal and alcohol.

“I know, what do you think we’re trying to do?” he said it as if he was calming himself down not Y/N. “Quick and fast.”

When the knife moved closer to the open wound, whatever was inside moved away, and it visibly caused Y/N pain, as tears streamed down her cheeks in an endless river.

“No, please,” Y/N whimpered. “It hurts, Billy. Please make it stop.”

“I will, baby, I promise,” he kissed the side of her head where it had lolled to rest against his shoulder. He had to process this quickly to help her. “I will. But you gotta hold on, alright? It’s gonna hurt only for a bit, and after that, it’ll be alright.” 

But she kept shaking her head with every inch that the white-hot steel moved closer to her. The knife hadn’t even touched her. Her whimpers turned into screams. Finally, Billy snapped.

“Can’t you see you’re only hurting her?”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Nancy yelled back. She was crying as well; it was giving her no pleasure seeing one of her closest friends in such an immense amount of pain. “We gotta get it out and cauterize the wound. She could bleed to death.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in his head.

“She could pull it out,” Billy turned hopefully to El. “Right? If you can hold her down, why wouldn’t you be able to pull out whatever it is?”

“It’s still gonna hurt,” her voice was quiet and apologetic as she looked at Y/N, who only shook her head as if saying ‘it’s alright. I forgive you’, now freed from El’s hold, and able to sag against Billy’s front.

“Probably not as much as that would’ve.”

This gave them a few seconds to recuperate, and Nancy ran to her room taking three steps at a time before sprinting downstairs with a can of hairspray and a belt, as the rest tried to somewhat clean Y/N’s room and the house. Billy didn’t want to think about how much of the blood was hers and how much the monsters.

“What happened?” Billy muttered into Y/N’s hair and inhaled the scent of grapefruit and chamomile. He’d missed that smell. He’d missed falling asleep next to her, where he could hide his face by the crook of her neck and just drift off into a peaceful sleep. 

The girl shuddered when he exhaled, the warm puff of air which used to be so soothing, now an unwelcome sensation, courtesy of the part of the Mind Flayer stuck in her body. “Was taking a bath,” Y/N murmured. “Decided to shave and accidentally cut myself. Next thing I know, all the lights started to flicker and this… mass of goo with tentacles was practically throwing me around the house. Luckily Nancy and Johnathan got here, and we were able to stave it off, but when she axed off one of the legs or whatever, I guess not everything retreated.”

A moan of displeasure invaded Billy’s ears, as she shifted a bit. “What are you doing here?”

“Dustin told me everything.”

She grunted straightening out in his hold. “I swear if I didn’t feel like someone played paper shredder with me, I’d kill him.”

“The question is why didn’t you tell me?”

“Had I, would you have believed me?”

Billy looked at her chest and focused on how it moved up and down in short quick breaths while thinking back on the confrontation and how the truth had been laid out to him a mere hour ago. His silence was her answer.

“Did you ever think maybe I was trying to protect you? It’s bad enough the kids are involved. This isn’t just shits and giggles. This is life and death. And if you somehow manage to get through this, you could go to jail. If you can’t tell, I’m not having the time of my life right now, Billy and –“

“I won’t let you do this without me. Not anymore.”

There was no room for discussion. The intensity of his gaze paralyzed Y/N, and as much as she hated to have him involved with the Upside Down business, as much as she hated he was now a possible target, she no longer could tell her heart no, so, she wove a hand into his curls and pulled him down for a kiss. 

For a moment both forgot the situation they were in, and nothing but the sweet taste of the other existed. It was like their souls had been revived and their hearts synced to once more beat in the same rhythm.

When they pulled back and looked around the room, no one was watching, giving the pair some resemblance of privacy, and it made her chuckle, though the levity was soon eradicated when El stepped up.

“Bite on this,” Nancy handed the leather strip to Y/N, who only weakly nodded, and Billy fished out his lighter, tossing it to her.

“The second it's out, light it on fire.

Y/N was fully pressed against Billy now, his arms like a vice around her waist and shoulders, and hers on top of his biceps.

“You ready?” Steve asked kneeling down and putting both palms on her upper thigh, so she’d be as still as possible while El tried to extract whatever thing lurked underneath the tissues of her leg.

Y/N bit down harder on the belt and tightened her grip on Billy. He held her back just as tightly. For reassurance. For security. For safety. She was no longer in this alone. Billy would keep her safe. And she him.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28

Billy Hargrove’s tag list: @la-reina-tigresa​ @youcanstandundermyumbrella @ephmrl-love​

A/N: I hope everyone’s staying home and is alright during these crazy times. I was in quarantine myself, I got out of the UK in the nick of time so that I could wait this out at home (I wasn’t in contact with people and I was in a safe space away from everyone). I did have the sniffles and a sore throat which is chronic at this point and luckily it’s was just that, as I did go and get tested for COVID-19, but even if you’re like me - please check your temperature 2x a day, drink loads of tea with lemon and honey, and eat a lot of garlic. And don’t forget WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS! I HAVE SHIT TO DO AND PLACES TO BE AND I NEED THIS OVER BY JUNE!!! (please note I do hope we can get back to our normal lives by the end of May, (April would be amazing) but we need to listen to the medical professionals and advice from them. Not politicians, unless they tell you to stay the fuck inside, but actual people who know about disease and viruses. Trust them. They’re putting their lives on the line by being around the infected and treating them while we can sit home on our couches. If not for the respect of other people, then for the ones actually out there trying to curb and combat this.)

Stay safe my frens, and please know - if you need anyone to talk to don’t be afraid to message me. I know i’m quite bad at replying, but I’ll try to be more active at this time, as I know we’re supposed to be “social distancing” but I’d like to call it physical distancing. Heard that somewhere, didn’t make it up myself :D humans by nature are social creatures and as big of a homebody I am, I’m kinda going crazy (was in quarantine for 2 days and was already bored out of my mind). We all need people to talk to. If you need a vent or just someone to have a chat with for 5 mins, I’ll be here :) (P.S. please note I most likely have a huge time zone difference with everyone, so replies might be at off times :D)I’ll be trying to post more fics, but I do have my assignment still (we now have another 2 week deadline extension and I’m so fucking confused as to when are my new deadlines. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish everything in my quarantine, and I’ll be able to write some shizz up)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. what did ya think?

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things cast #netflix stranger things #stranger things season 3 #NETFLIX STRANGER THINGS SEASON 3 #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre x reader #dacre x you #dacre montgomery #hawkins #hawkins indiana #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #dacre montgromery #dacre montgomery x you #dacre montgomery x y/n #billy hargrove x y/n #theoneeiththefanfics writes #fanfics #stranger things fandom

[chaoticdean]

As another big Green Day fan, I'm curious to know what are your opinions on each Green Day album (studio albums only, not recopilatory, but feel free to add the live ones) and why you like/don't like that album 🖤

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A COOL QUESTION TO GET MARA, THANK YOU! Buckle up ‘cause this will probably, inevitably go long. I’m also gonna use this to catalog each album in order, with dates and shit because a lot of people have actually reached out asking how much material there was before American Idiot got released in ‘04, and my dudes, my peeps, THERE’S A LOT. 

#1 — 1,039 Smoothed Out Slappy Hour (1991)

So this is probably the one I listen to the less to this day, not because I don’t like it but because I discovered most of the tracks on that album through live bootlegs or videos, which in turns made me like the live versions way more than the studio version (Knowledge, looking right at you). That said, this is the epitome of Sweet Children/Green Day, and it’s pretty nice to be able to go back and listen to this album knowing it’s a compilation of their first two maxi albums that came out in ‘89 and ‘90. That being said, I still think it’s criminal not to have Paper Lanterns recorded live on any live album to this day — Billie Joe, imma sue your stupid ass.

#2 — Kerplunk (1992)

THE PRODIGAL SON. Knowing that this is the album that got them to have some form of recognition among the punk community at the time, so much so that Warner was able to get a whim of this Bay Area band, is enough of a tell. There are so many good songs on this album, and you can already sense Billie Joe’s storytelling through some of the songs. I have a very soft spot for 2,000 Light Years Away, even if like most of the older songs I do prefer any live version to the studio version. Like I also said earlier, Green Day were my introduction to a lot of older bands, and I’m pretty sure I discovered the Who by listening to their cover of My Generation on this album. Honorable mention to Tré’s first delight of a song, Dominated Love Slave. Keep slaying, my chaos demon. 💚

#3 — Dookie (1994)

Well, how do you talk about an album that rocked your entire world without turning into a puddle of tears? I discovered Dookie shortly after I bought American Idiot for myself and realized there was more to this band than just this album, and I was blown away. I distinctly remember falling asleep at night with me hear glued to my stereo with the volume on low as to not wake up my parents, and I’d just listen to that album on repeat. I don’t know if it was so much about the music than the lyrics, really. I was about 10 or 11 and hearing Billie singing on Coming Clean felt like a breeze of fresh hair to a little girl that already figured out she wasn’t straight. Dookie holds a lot of good tune but the subject they’re touching are so in touch with society even still today. This is an album that is forever going to hold a very special place in my heart, and I still can get enough of it. It’s actually sitting on my turntable right now.

#4 — Insomniac (1995)

Insomniac is the album I’ll listen to whenever I have a bad day, because it’s so angsty. It’s very different from what Dookie felt like despite being released only a year after. To me it’s also the first album where Billie starts making some sort of bolder statement, especially with a song like Walking Contradiction. Panic Song is also another of those songs that I keep going back to because it’s musically extremely interesting (that bass line! that drums opening! that guitar riff! yes, fucker, gimme more!) and the subject it touches (panic attacks, essentially) is something that I’ve been struggling with. Again, when you’re a young girl struggling with this, it’s comforting hearing your favorite band talk about that same subject. That album is riddled with good songs and it’s a shame that Insomniac still doesn’t get nearly as much credit as it should have.

#5 — Nimrod (1997)

To me, Nimrod is really the first album they started experimenting with a wide variety of different styles. A lot of people (Billie included) would probably argue that Warning had a deeper dive into diversity, but hearing songs like Walking Alone or Last Drive In, god, even King for a Day was not something they would’ve done before. Another solid album that holds one of my major favorite songs, the first song I’ve ever learned on guitar: Good Riddance (Time of Your Life). Billie’s songwriting on that album is a bit different from what we’re used to, he’s diving deep into his personal life and I think it’s probably the rawest we’ve seen him be at that point. Another one of the album that doesn’t get enough recognition (but then again, the next one too).

#6 — Warning (2000)

It’s... I’m not gonna lie, it’s a peculiar album. I love it, but I know it’s an album that’s been dividing fans for two decades. It’s still Green Day exploring, but to a very wider pace than they did on Nimrod, and this is SO GOOD. Misery is a very good example of that, actually. It’s also Billie’s first ‘real’ dive at politics with songs like Minority and Macy’s Day Parade. Hell, even Warning can be held as some sort of statement. I do love that album, but you can also sense that at that point the band is not doing well. We know that now because they’ve talked about it at length, but you can sense in the music that they’re searching for something that they aren’t able to find.

#Comp — International Superhits! (2001)

Not gonna go in great length about this, but the two exclusive songs (Poprocks and Coke, Maria) are some of my favorite b-sides that they’ve ever released.

#Comp — Shenanigans (2002)

This is a peculiar compilation, I don’t really think I’ve ever seen a compilation of b-sides and rarities being put out as a compilation in any of the other bands I’ve been following around for decades, but it’s a nice one. 

#7 — American Idiot (2004)

How do you talk about an album that literally changed your life? I’ve talked about it earlier today, but American Idiot was the first album I’ve ever bought for myself, with my own money, and it blew me away. I wasn’t raised in a house where music was prominent. Both my parents aren’t really fans of rock music (I mean, my mom listens to Dire Straits a lot and has a soft spot for Alan Parson but that’s pretty much it), so my taste in music stopped at what the radio gave me. And then Green Day came along, American Idiot started spinning in my room and that was some sort of a revelation for me. This is such a bold album. It got released during the Bush presidency, 3 years after 9-11, and there’s such an intensity to the songs that it’s still an album that you can listen to today and go “it still holds the same meaning”. Without even a shadow of a doubt, this is the best album they’ve put out so far. This is a masterpiece, and it’s no short of a surprise that it went this far in terms of number. Let’s not forget that it also birthed a live album, several gigantic world tour, a European Arena tour, a play that’s been on Broadway for more than a year at the time, and a soundtrack album from the play. This is something that is bigger than just an album. This is my #1 album, all artists included. I don’t think any album can top that one for me, not only because it’s a masterpiece both musically and songwrittingly (i don’t care if that’s not a word), but it holds an extremely personal connexion in my heart. 

#Live — Bullet in a Bible (2005)

This was filmed in Milton Keynes (UK) at the end of the European Arena Tour that Green Day did in 2005. I cannot even begin to count the number of time that I’ve watched it. I started a band because of this live album. Just like American Idiot did, this blew me away. It’s a shame they still haven’t put that much more live material out in recent years, because this is a band that is so good live. Anyone would tell you that they’re absolute monsters on stage, even people that aren’t Green Day fans.

#8 — 21st Century Breakdown (2009)

Anyone will tell you that putting out another album after such a strong success as American Idiot would be a sink or swim. This is a swim, and a very good one at that. Politically speaking, I feel like this goes even further than Billie went on American Idiot. This album continues to blow me away even after 12 years, I keep going back for a listen and discovering new layers underneath Billie’s lyrics, and I love it. I have a very soft spot for Last Night on Earth because it’s a song for Adrienne, Billie’s wife, and we hadn’t gotten an Adrienne song in a long while ❤️

#Live — Awesome as Fuck (2011)

I have a love/hate relationship with that live album. I absolutely love the fact that they decided to release some more live material, but I don’t understand what they tried to do with it. By that, I mean that I don’t get why the live footage we get to see has been taped in a different country than the tracks on the album (which are all from different venues and different shows across the world). That being said, it’s still live Green Day and it’s still so damn good. 

#9 — Uno! / #10 — Dos! / #11 — Tré! (2012)

I know that I have a pretty different opinion about the trilogy than most of the fans I’ve met so far, but I, for one, absolutely loved it. That being said, the style is different from regular Green Day, closer to garage rock/surfer pop-punk than anything else they’ve put out. It reeks of live recording and club shows, and yeah sure Billie’s songwriting is not at the heights he was on the previous albums, but the songs are so raw and personal that I connected with those three albums instantly. That said, you can sense how deeply depressed and struggling he was at the time by just listening to songs like Lazy Bones or Nightlife. The entirety of Dos! is a statement, it’s a cry for help. So yeah, I’m fairly certain this is some sort of unpopular opinion, but even if the band’s state of mind wasn’t good, these albums are a good spin to me.

#Comp — Demolicious (2014)

If I’m not mistaken, that’s a compilation that was specifically put out for Record Store Day in 2014. Another bold choice for a compilation, and one I love because people often don’t know what demos sound like (and I LOVE IT). I hold that vinyl very tightly in my record collection, it’s a clear pressed vinyl and it’s very good-looking lmao.

#10 — Revolution Radio (2016)

Green Day returns to making bold statements and higher songwriting! This is an album I didn’t really connect with at first because I was going through some really deep shit in my personal life. This was also the first time I was gonna be able to go and see them live, and I ended up missing it, so that’s a forever burn on my calendar lmao. This is a solid album that holds some very good songs (politically, but also personally). I tend to view Still Breathing as an answer to the song Lazy Bones on Dos!, and it’s no coincidence that it was one of the most massive hit on this album. Bang Bang is literally American Idiot’s little sister. I feel like a lot of the songs on this album are answers to earlier songs actually, and I’m just realizing that now by writing it and browsing the tracklist lmao. 

#11 — Father of all Motherfuckers (2020)

Until that album was released, I didn’t think Green Day could ever disappoint me. I was... well, I was wrong. I don’t understand what they tried to do with that album, and I’m saying that with love. This is a band that’s used to experimenting with different styles (I mean, just have a listen of Warning or Nimrod), but this... This feels hollow. This feels like they’ve been pressed to put out a record and they just went with the cheapest thing they could. Now, I don’t hate that album, I just don’t see the intent. Some of the songs are good enough, but they aren’t up to the standards of enough Green Day used to give us. I still give it a listen every now and then because I’m one of those people that think some records need to be “tamed” before you really start liking them, and I do like some of the songs (Oh Yeah, Graffitia), but this feels more like Billie Joe having fun recording stuff in his garage than the band being hard at work in the studio with a producer. 

Okay, as promised, that got excruciatingly long! I do hope that was entertaining enough though lmao. 

#I NEVER EXPECTED TO GET SUCH A COOL ASK BUT HERE WE ARE #inacatastrophicmind #green day #listen........ i told y'all i could go feral for green day #this is me going feral #i can talk about that band for HOURS #my knowledge knows no bounds #though sometimes i'd like to have some bounds

[royalnugget42]

SPN is ending

And here’s my take on how it will go down, based on the limited knowledge we have. Please be aware that these are not foolproof predictions. Title analysis can only get you so far, and some of the titles are vague enough that they could mean just about anything. Still I’d like to try my best to predict the narrative based on how I would go about it and based on the vague references.

I’ll go episode by episode, include as many details as I can reasonably add, and try to keep my Destiel shipping goggles off as much as possible. Buckle up.

14

First one is pretty easy. Episode 14, “Last Holiday” promises to be kind of literal, with a mysterious figure appearing and giving Jack, Sam, and Dean the holidays they missed out on. However, I was curious, since Supernatural has a habit of including obscure or not so obscure references in their titles, if there was any other thing we could correlate this to.

There is actually a movie called “Last Holiday” starting Queen Latifah, whose character is diagnosed with a terminal illness, which results in her making the decision to abandon her boring life and live like a millionaire in Europe.

The idea of the fight with Chuck being a “terminal illness” on the horizon could be why now is the best time for these guys to live it up.

This possible reference coupled with the ‘last’ seems to say that this episode will be a sort of final moment of levity before the endgame. Past this episode there be monsters, lads. I’d also like to point out that since it will be just Jack and the brothers if the promo photos are anything to go by, this will be a good time to get in some forgiveness and family bonding for our characters before things go downhill again.

Looking at promo photos for this episode again, I’m not sure where, but the episode may also carry some development for the plot. I’m not sure whether the photos of Cas, Amara, and Charlie were for this episode or another one (since they are not listed as cast members for the episode on IMDb), but we’ll be seeing all of them again soon it looks like, and I can’t wait for Cas and Jack to go on a hunt together again.

15

This episode will be the beginning of the descent. We’re standing on the edge and staring into the void, and we’re about to take the plunge. How do I know this?

“Gimme Shelter”, the title for this new episode, seems to have a literal meaning of the characters continuing to try to hide from God. However, as usual, the title is also a reference, this time to a song by The Rolling Stones. The lyrics to said song are nice and foreboding.

Oh, a storm is threat'ning

My very life today

If I don't get some shelter

Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'

Our very street today

Burns like a red coal carpet

Mad bull lost its way

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

Rape, murder!

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away (3X)

The floods is threat'ning

My very life today

Gimme, gimme shelter

Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away (4X)

I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away (5X)

Kiss away, kiss away

Cue nervous anticipation

This is definitely where things are going to really pick up plot wise. Most likely, more will be revealed about Billie’s Plan to Kill God TM. Although, the idea of Death herself leading the Winchesters to victory feels sketchy to me still. She is deliberately withholding all the details, and she’s doing it for a reason.

Something down the line is going to make the Winchesters angry with her, and she’s not going to tell them about it unless it’s absolutely necessary. I have a feeling what it is will get revealed in the next episode.

16

“Drag Me Away (From You)” has some very clear negative connotations, and on top of everything has a weird format. It could be based on the lyric from Africa by Toto, ‘it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you’, or a reference to the song “Drag Me Away” by Melissa Etheridge, whose lyrics mention angels, and are about resistance and perseverance, two defining characteristics of the Winchesters. However, I’d like to point out another correlation.

Like I said before, the title has a weird format. The only other episode of Supernatural with a similar title to this one is season 12 episode 12 “Stuck in the Middle (With You)”. That episode was about what seemed like a normal hunt, but was actually a mission for Mary by the British Men of Letters to get the Colt. In that episode, Cas came ridiculously close to dying a painful and slow death, which does not bode well for this episode if it’s correlated in any way.

If what I’m predicting for Billie’s plan is true, this episode will be where the viewers are clued in on the thing she won’t tell the Winchesters about. The brothers might not necessarily get clued in (like how they still hadn’t realized Mary’s involvement with the BMOL at the end of 12x12), but whatever Billie is withholding will have serious consequences.

For this episode, I predict that Cas will come absurdly close to death again, because I believe Billie’s plan involves him dying. Billie doesn’t consider Cas a member of TFW. Multiple times in the most recent episodes, she talks about how important Jack is, how important the Winchesters are, but never Cas, and it feels like a weird oversight.

“Ever since I got this new job, I stand witness to a much larger picture. You know what I see? You. And your brother. You’re important.” 13x05 “Advanced Thanatology”

“I told you Dean, you and your brother have work to do.” 15x12 “Galaxy Brain”

Surely Cas has a part to play, since he’s one of the main characters right? But Billie doesn’t trust Cas, as well she shouldn’t. Cas is a wildcard, an angel who doesn’t do as he’s told. He straight up stabbed her in the back, something that she was completely caught off guard by.

I could make an entire post about how Cas hasn’t played by the rules of the universe since season 4 episode 18 “The Monster at the End of This Book”, but I digress. The point is that this episode is probably going to shed some light on the true threat the team is facing. Which leads us into...

17-18

Here’s where things start to get muddy. The titles from this point on get vague, and without any solid information about the previous episodes, these could be headed anywhere.

“Unity” is the next episode, number 17, and that could mean a lot of things. In my proposed timeline it is after a supposed revelation about Billie’s plan, so maybe they feel more unified after learning it.

In Supernatural‘s usual story structure, though, it feels like this episode will probably be the buildup to what seems like the end of the villain, but will actually be the darkest hour.

The episode following right after this is titled “Despair” and I think that’s telling. Supernatural writers do this often, where the boys make a plan, and inevitably when they follow it something goes wrong. “Unity” is the plan being made and carried out, and “Despair” is either the episode where everything goes wrong, or the aftermath.

[EDIT: The title of episode 18 is actually “The Truth”, which I believe may still narratively serve the same purpose, but now I’m more convinced that this is where the Winchesters learn about Castiel’s deal and/or something that Billie has been keeping from them about the plan to kill God. Thank you to @kingofthecrossroads for the updated information.]

Before I go into detail about this two-episode arc, an obligatory

Warning: Shipping Ahead

To my eyes, “Unity” seems like the perfect place for Castiel’s arc to reach a breaking point. If I’m right, and this is the episode where everything seems to succeed, then what better time for The Empty to snatch Cas away from his happiness.

If I was a writer, and I was in fact planning on making Destiel canon, this is where I’d do it. It makes the most sense to have Dean and Cas finally realizing their love for each other be the catalyst for Cas “finally giving himself permission to be happy” especially if this episode also contains a false climax regarding the Chuck storyline. Cas has said multiple times that he’s “far from happy”, so there has to be something huge happen for Cas to get there. Not to mention, Cas would be a sort of vessel for the audience, simultaneously happier than we’ve ever been because we were finally right, and sadder than ever because Cas is gone.

“Despair” won’t just be despair that the plan failed. It could also be Dean’s despair at losing Cas, our despair at seeing our hopes for them dashed.

[EDIT: Again, the title will NOT be “Despair” it will be “The Truth”, but I still think it’s telling that Despair was a working title for long enough that it’s on the IMDb page, and if “The Truth” contains the truth about how Dean and Cas feel about each other, then this will still be a dark episode.]

Shipping over, let’s continue.

19

Now we come to another referential episode, “Inherit the Earth”. There’s really not enough information to have anything solid regarding the nitty gritty details, but we can take a look at what this title is most likely referencing. “Inherit the Earth” is just a tiny part of a common phrase. It’s used in media all the time, but we’re interested in the original source.

I’m not sure if the episode will contain references to all the pieces of this passage from the Bible, but “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” seems to build off of the last episode, “Despair”. Another translation for the word meek in this instance may have been “powerless”, and after the negative moments in the previous episode TFW would probably feel pretty powerless. Maybe, in the previous episodes, Jack failed and lost his powers again, and that’s what caused Despair, but now he will inherit the powers that God had, or inherit control of earth.

If the rest of the passage is to be taken into account here, there’s also the “poor in spirit” who will ascend to the “kingdom of heaven”, possibly a reference to Cas being depressed and fighting for Heaven to be maintained. “Those who mourn will be comforted”, and that may actually bode well for Sam and Dean, who constantly mourn for the friends they’ve lost. Maybe in this episode they’ll get some closure on that front, maybe with their friends trapped in Hell going to Heaven (Kevin). The next line after “inherit the earth” refers to “those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”, and if that isn’t Michael/Adam to a T...maybe this will be the episode we see him team up to fight God. I’m not sure who the last line might refer to other than Sam, if you have any ideas feel free to tell me.

And after all this, we have the big one.

20

“Carry On” is referring to “Carry On My Wayward Son” by Kansas, and I don’t have a clue what it will entail. If the previous episode goes well, then this will be a sort of epilogue, with a (hopefully) happy ending for TFW, maybe we see Eileen and Sam get together, some kind of family dinner with Jody and the girls to resolve that plot line, or potentially, if the writers plan on doing it, a scene confirming Destiel.

It’d be interesting if they showed the brothers going on a normal, run-of-the-mill hunting trip, like a simple salt-and-burn, or even a (different) woman in white. It would be a nice way to bookend the story, to end on a hunt, but instead of the brothers on their own, it’s the brothers with the help of everyone they’ve come to know and care about in their journey, all the lives they’ve touched.

If, however, the conflict is not resolved by the end of the previous episode, this could be the resolution and epilogue all rolled into one, though if it were me I would want as much time as possible to resolve any lingering character questions because, at the end of the day, Supernatural has survived because of the characters. They are what people stay for, what they watch for.

Reminder that all of this is speculation. I do not know what will happen, this is just how I think the story could progress based on what we know so far.

For better or for worse, at this point Supernatural will be over. Will they do a perfect job? Probably not. This is Supernatural, it’s not the most perfect show. However, I’m excited to see where the writers will go with it. They have their work cut out for them.

[EDITED]

#spn #supernatural #supernatural theory #spn theory #spn s15 #spn season 15 #spn 15x14 #spn 15x15 #spn 15x16 #spn 15x17 #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #spn 15x20 #saileen #spn 15x12 #destiel #i tried not to let it influence me #hope this is coherant

[pynkhues]

What’s you top 5 unpopular good girls ships?

I am eternally blessed, anon, because all my ships for Good Girls are pretty popular, haha. I’m all about Beth x Rio, Ruby x Stan, Dean x Suffering, Boomer x Grievous Bodily Harm! Even my non-canon ships like Annie x Nancy or Annie x JT are pretty popular! 

So instead, I’m offering you five crack ships and I’ve written the scenarios where I think they could work, because I am a glutton for punishment, haha. One of them I actually want to write, but I’m not going to say which, because I don’t want anyone to peer pressure me into writing it, hahaha. (I have way too many WIPs!)

Below a cut to save your feeds.

1. Krystal x Lucy

Okay, SO, I accidentally wrote them into the pornstar au, and ever since the thought came to me, it’s latched on like a parasite! I love the thought of them both having someone in their corner in the way that we sort of know they don’t? Lucy really needed somebody who could fight for her and was more clued into the world than either herself or Max, and Krystal pretty clearly needs someone who’s kind to her. Plus Krystal would edge out some of Lucy’s cutesyness, while Lucy would ground Krystal, and idk! I just think they’d be cute!

Okay, scenario though – I’m thinking the Hill’s have a Christmas party. Lucy and Max have recently broken up and Beth feels bad for her, so invites her to be her plus-one (or, well, plus seventh after Rio and the kids), and the gesture’s a nice one, but Beth is instantly distracted by helping Ruby get the food out or with Jane and Marcus inevitably causing havoc, and so Lucy ends up wallflowering, watching everyone else just - - know each other, right? 

And maybe Krystal sees her and maybe she’s a few drinks in already, so it’s not like it takes much to grab another cup of spiked eggnog and tumble against the wall beside Lucy. And maybe it’s awkward at first, because Lucy’s sort of weird, but maybe Krystal kind of likes that, and maybe Lucy compliments Krystal’s ugly snowman earrings, and Krystal really does think Lucy’s reindeer sweater is cute, and maybe Lucy falls a little in love when Krystal sings bawdy Christmas songs, her arm slung over Ruby’s shoulder, and Krystal falls a little in love when Lucy is unfairly good at drunk pictionary, and maybe it feels like they’ve known each other a lot longer than a night (and maybe they want to make sure they will). 

2. Mick x Mary Pat. 

Okay, okay, okay. Hear me out. 

So it finally happens. Rio finds out who Mary Pat is, what she’s done – that she’s Beth’s rotten egg – and y’know, Rio isn’t playing around anymore. He wants to send Beth a message, and what better way to do that than to handle the third person she couldn’t after Turner and Boomer? So he sends Mick off with an order.

And so Mick watches for a few days – keeps an eye on her schedule, her routine, carving out a plan to handle her as smoothly as possible (he’s not Rio after all, he doesn’t hand guns to women he’s just kidnapped, y’know?) – and starts to get a sense of her. Sure, maybe he feels a little bad. She has a lot of kids, y’know? And always seems pretty frazzled, at the end of her rope, but sort of sweet. She goes to church, sings in a choir, makes pancakes from a box, sure, but she adds both choc chips and blueberries which is a pretty good combo, and maybe it’s hard to believe she’s swept up in all of this, but then it was hard to believe Mrs Boland and that sweet girl from Paper Porcupine had been too. 

Still, Mick knows what he’s doing, y’know? 

He’s not Rio. He’ll finish the job.

So he steals into her house late at night, moving down to her bedroom, intending to take her outside, handle her away from the kids at least, when suddenly a wild Mary Pat appears! Brandishing a huge knife. 

Mick staggers back! Alarmed, and Mary Pat thrusts it at him, knowing exactly how long he’s been watching her and what does he think she is??? NEW to this??? She worked with the FBI! Okay, not --  not worked with them, but y’know, an agent was on her case for a while, and Mary Pat is not as stupid as her Uncle Larry told her that one time, and okay, Mick thinks, staggering back into his seat, eyes fixed on the knife Mary Pat is waving around at him. 

You wanna talk this out? 

It’s the wrong thing to say, because no, she doesn’t especially, and they just sort of stare at each other for a minute, trying to figure out what happens next when Billy wakes up and trots down the hallway, and he’s had a bad dream about the bad man, and for a minute, Mick thinks he’s talking about him, but then Mary Pat says something about how Boomer won’t ever step foot in this house again, and with the way she’s holding that knife, Mick is inclined to believe her. 

And then, well, Billy asks for pancakes. 

So that’s how Mick ends up eating pancakes with Mary Pat and three of her four kids at 2 in the morning, and y’know, he’s not a total asshole. He’s going to stay and help her clean up afterwards, and maybe it’s sort of nice, now that she’s put the knife down (although it is still in reaching distance, and honestly, he respects that), now that his gun’s back in his pants. 

And well, he can’t exactly kill a woman who just made him pancakes, so he figures next time, only next time, Mary Pat’s already cooking, and then the time after that, she’s already set him a plate, and maybe the time after that, she kisses him, and maybe the time after that, he kisses her first, and at least when Rio asks, Mick can just give him a look, because it isn’t like he doesn’t have his own batshit crazy mother of four he can’t kill. 

3. Rhea x Phoebe. 

So, y’know. Phoebe’s good at her job. 

Phoebe knows how to do a stakeout, to keep tabs, to collect intel. She revels in every part of the chase, every part of the puzzle, every part of the game of it all, because she knows that what she’s doing is right, she’s cleaning up the streets! Making the world a better place! But - - okay, she’ll be the first to admit that she already finds her marks exhausting.

Not so much Hill and Marks. They’re sort of fun to keep tabs on (and lowkey, Phoebe really does maybe daydream sometimes about what it might be like to sit on the couch and watch bad reality shows with them, drinking cheap wine and creamy, herb crusted cheeses). Even Boland is kind of awesome when she’s not with him. 

Because the thing is, as soon as Boland and the Big Kahuna are together, everything just gets a little - - hm. What’s the word for it? 

(”Nothing like watching a crime lord pull pigtails,” Henry had said on one stakeout, headphones on as they’d watched from afar as Big Kahuna had swung in close to Boland, said something that made her flush red and try to stamp on his foot. “Can’t wait until they graduate to passing notes. At least then there might be something we can use.”) 

And, well. It’s not like he’s wrong.

So maybe she starts to get bored of watching the highschool antics of them (as has everyone else, she thinks, if the looks on their faces is anything to go by - including the hitman clearly trying to take one, or both of them out [and please, a little part of Phoebe thinks, watching as Big Kahuna drags a finger across the back of Boland’s knuckles, and Boland wait until he’s gone to order the most expensive liquor in the bar to Big Kahuna’s tab]). Maybe that makes her dig a little deeper. 

Maybe that’s how she finds herself watching an under-9′s soccer game in a fold-out chair beside Big Kahuna’s baby mama. (She tells her she’s researching, so it’s not technically a lie, even if the cover of starting to coach a team of her own in the fall is a thin one).

And okay, maybe they hit it off. Which is kind of cool, Phoebe thinks, because it turns out Rhea is kind of cool (how she put up with Big Kahuna is a total mystery to her), and y’know, she’s actually pretty? LIke, pretty pretty. And nice, and totally normal, and maybe they get a coffee after the game, and catch a movie on the weekend, and maybe sometimes Phoebe forgets to fish about Big Kahuna at all, but that’s an easy mistake to make, and maybe Henry gives her a Look when he hears about it, but it’s nothing, Phoebe thinks.

She’s just doing her due diligence. 

Being thorough, y’know? 

I mean, who even knows when information could come out, and Phoebe’s just laying the groundwork anyway, she thinks, watching the line of Rhea’s neck, the purse of her lips, blinking rapidly when Rhea leans across the table, the curve of her breast visible beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, and says: “I know you’re a fed.” 

And Phoebe splutters as Rhea keeps leaning forwards. 

“I’m not going to tell you anything about him.” 

And what can Phoebe say except okay, something in her chest tightening at - - at what, Phoebe has no idea. Just knows that Rhea’s so close she can feel the other woman’s breath on her cheek.  

“I just want to be clear about that,” she tells her. “If we’re going to do this.” 

And Phoebe blinks, owlish at Rhea, pulse rapid and mouth dry as she asks: “Do what?” 

And well, it turns out Phoebe likes Rhea even more when she’s kissing her.

4. Greg x Dr. Josh.

Okay, so maybe two things happen. 

Maybe it’s a party of something when Annie finally turns around and tells Greg about kissing her therapist, and honestly, Greg shouldn’t be surprised. This is what Annie does, after all, and telling her off never really gets him anywhere, so he pours them both another drink, and - - sure, maybe another. 

Then maybe a few more. 

Because it’s just like they’re in this loop, y’know? Him and her. Like she fucks up and it’s not like she expects him to clean up after her (he’s not Beth), but it’s like there’s something in Annie where she needs him to know about it, and that just really gets to him sometimes, because like, Annie’s not his responsibility just because they have a kid together. Besides, he has Nancy now, so it’s not like he needs Annie, and even thinking about Nancy sort of makes him want to go and find her, so then he’s drunkenly stumbling around this party, looking for that cape of perfect blonde hair, and okay, maybe that’s when the second thing happens.

Annie. Nancy. Closet. Necking. Maybe a shirt’s off? There’s a lot of like - - like mouths and hand stuff and Greg slams the door shut and maybe goes and lies on the grass outside for a while. 

And okay, maybe it’s not a surprise either. Maybe this is also what Annie does too, but still, he stews on it, and then stews on it some more, and so what if he interrogates Ben for this therapist’s address, because like - - hadn’t Annie been going to him for months? How could this guy make everything worse. 

And sure, maybe storming into the guy’s office, drunk on anger this time instead of beer, isn’t the best idea, but he’s just - - pissed, y’know? And maybe he yells at the guy about where he gets off, kissing patients. Making his patients kiss his wife, and okay, the guy’s pale at first, but then is sort of nice, and they sit on the beanbags and talk for a bit about Hurricane Annie, and actually, he’s finished work for the day, so maybe they should go get a beer or whatever? 

And maybe later, when Josh drops a nervous hand to his knee and awkwardly closes the distance between them, when Greg’s kissing back, he does sort of wonder if he and Annie won’t always be pulling from the same pool. 

5. Turner x Noah. 

Come on. We all saw s2. There’s no way Turner didn’t offer a, ahem, hand to help Noah get over Annie. 

#oh my god #this got so long #hahahaha #rip me #anyway #these were extremely fun to write #should i tag the pairings? #or should i leave them a surprise? #maybe i'll just tag the characters haha #jimmy turner #noah #greg #dr josh cohen #mary pat #mick #annie marks #nancy #beth boland #rio #phoebe donnegan #rhea #lucy #krystal #my fic #kind of #welcome to my ama #ask memes #Anonymous

[kindkindling]

what i want is to be with you

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles

pairing: mason/nb detective (Billie Vale)

rating: E

warnings: explicit for M being M

word count: ~4.5k

summary: The detective and Mason dance, and they talk about stars.

ao3

This was unbearable.

Every step felt like a mistake, likely because it was; Mason was seriously regretting not paying more attention when Nat was trying to teach him the steps. He couldn't stop staring at his feet, which Nat had said was "improper" and "unacceptable", but how else was he supposed to keep from stepping on Billie's foot again? He grunted for what felt like the hundredth time as he abruptly shifted his foot at the last second to narrowly avoid yet another mishap, scowling all the while.

On top of that, the ballroom was too large for his liking, filled with too many people; the light was too bright, crystals dangling from the chandeliers, refracting to and from every angle and leaving no spot unlit; waiters kept walking by with trays of little finger foods that, despite their size, managed to assault his sense of smell with every pass; the suit the Agency had provided was scratching at his skin whenever he so much as thought about moving; and none of these assholes seemed to ever shut the hell up. He was learning way more about the business dealings and personal dramas of smarmy rich people than he ever wanted to know. And it was keeping him from focusing on these steps that he shouldn't be struggling with so much, goddammit — 

"You're doing pretty well, y'know."

Mason spared a moment to glance up at his partner. Billie was wearing an amused expression, and their eyes were lit up with a mirth that had only recently started showing up more often around Unit Bravo. It was far from unwelcome, but Mason forced himself to look back down and scoffed.

"I can do without the pity, thanks."

"No, I mean it," Billie insisted, gently running their thumb over his side where their hand rested. "You should've seen me the first few times I had to do this. I think Tina described it as 'somewhere between a toddler's first steps and a waddling duck.'"

That got a chuckle out of him, and he could see Billie grinning from the corner of his eye. "I can actually believe that." Billie was many things, but graceful wasn't one of them. Mason was actually a bit surprised they were pretty decent at this dancing thing; Billie didn't really seem like someone that would go for a ball. He meant to ask further, but as he made a step back, he felt his back collide with another dancer, and a frustrated growl came out instead. He quickly turned to snap at whoever made the stupid decision to stand right where Mason needed to be, but just as fast, Billie moved in front of him with a hand on his chest.

"Sorry about that," they blurted out before Mason would almost certainly say something they would all regret, their other hand raised in placation. (Well, Mason wouldn't regret it, but he imagined Ava and Nat would have some choice words for him, and that was usually worth avoiding.) The other dancer nodded, and Billie took a few moments to ask whether they were alright; uninterested, Mason spent the time noticing how Billie's hand was resting right over his heart. Their hand was warm, even through the irritatingly scratchy fabric of his suit, and he could feel their pulse tapping a faint beat through their fingertips. It was running a little faster than normal, but focusing on it helped bring his own frustration back down, until he was no longer in danger of jeopardizing the night over his two left feet.

Billie finally turned back to Mason, seemingly assured that the dancer wouldn't cause a scene, and they let their hand drag across his the sleeve of his suit as it slid down to grab his hand, threading their fingers through his own. "Come on, let's move a little farther away."

As he followed Billie's lead across the dance floor, he made a point to glare back at the dancer he had hit, smirking as they started a little. At least he could still tell someone to go fuck themselves with only a look, even if his dancing was shit.

Satisfied that they were far enough away from everyone to avoid another incident, Billie came to a stop. "This'll do," they said, looking up to meet Mason's eyes. The sheepish grin they had worn moments before turned back into a look that was becoming more and more familiar as of late. It was hard for Mason to describe; he wasn't entirely sure what Billie was trying to convey with it, only that it was... soft, and it made their blue eyes light up so brightly, and it made his chest tighten up in a way that wasn't wholly uncomfortable. He stared back, lost for a moment as Billie's hand, still holding his own, squeezed briefly before raising them back into position.

"You mind if I take the lead this time?" They asked, that baffling look still in place.

Mason blinked, setting his confusion aside for now. His eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a sharp smile, letting just a hint of fang come out. "You're always welcome to take the lead, sweetheart." He leaned in as he spoke, each word bringing him closer, until he was whispering beside their ear. "You could lead us somewhere we could try a few different moves, if you'd like." He revelled in the heat he could feel starting to radiate from them and chuckled lowly as they lost their response to a stutter. Satisfied for now, he let them off easy and just blew a soft breath over the shell of their ear before backing away.

It looked like Billie managed to get a hold over the blush before it spread across their face, which was a shame, but it wasn't like he wouldn't have more chances to see it later. Their expression had changed to one of flustered indignation, which was always one of his personal favorites, and if he felt a twinge of disappointment that the odd look from before was gone, well, so be it.

"Come on now, sweetheart," he teased, "show me how it's done." He readjusted his hands so they fit more comfortably against Billie's hand and side while they regained their composure and followed suit, clearing their throat a few times before speaking again.

"So, this is just going to be a simple box step," they started. "You can watch our feet to begin with, but you shouldn't need to after a bit. Whenever I take a step, just follow along with the matching foot."

Mason watched as Billie moved their right foot back, and followed it forward with his left. He couldn't help but feel that the beam Billie shot at him was completely unwarrented.

"Great! Now follow with the other foot, and we'll turn it into a kind of sidestep at the same time." They brought their other foot back, but moved it out to the side instead of resting with the other. Mason kept silent and watched intently as he did his best to mirror the movements. "Exactly, now we just bring the other foot back in..."

 

After a few minutes going through the motions, Mason found that he could perform the steps with only a cursory glance at his feet every so often, and he looked up to see Billie looking almost smug.

"You're looking pleased with yourself there," he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Ha, well, I guess I am a little proud of myself," they chuckled. "It's not a particularly complicated step, but I still never thought I'd be able to teach it to someone else."

Ah, that's right, he had a question about that. "How did you learn this, anyway?" Mason asked. "Dancing doesn't really seem your style."

"I suppose that's true," Billie said, leading him through the steps in time with the music without thought. "Since this ball is an annual thing, and attendance is mandatory for those at the station, I've had to come for the past... oh, four or five years." Mason let his thumb run over Billie's hand as they moved, and gave a small grin at the way their eyes flashed to where their hands met before continuing. "That first year though, it didn't take long for Tina to realize I was spending more time hiding in a corner than on the dance floor, and she couldn't have that. So, she was the one who sort of forced me to learn, ha."

"The bobblehead does seem like she can be - ack!" Mason flinched as Billie pinched his side. The glare they gave him lacked any real substance, but he acquiesced all the same. "Alright, sorry."

"Mmhmm." Billie waited a moment, gaze narrowed, as if to see if he had a smart remark coming. When he didn't, they continued. "Anyway, so Tina was the one who taught me, but this is actually about all I know. I can't do any fancy steps or anything, but to be fair, this is the only time I actually use these moves, so I think it works out okay."

Mason nodded, curiosity sated, and took a moment to look around the room as they danced in their own corner. He could spot Felix almost immediately; he had been a pretty popular dance partner all night, even though he wasn't exactly sticking to the moves Nat had tried to teach him — or maybe because he didn't stick to them. He almost scoffed, holding it in at the last moment; Felix was almost as bad at this as Mason, but he still had people watching like they were jealous of his partners. Nat was on the floor as well, and Mason had to admit, she seemed to fit right in. She had a poise about her that the rest of the team lacked, and she moved gracefully along the floor with light steps alongside her partners, completely at home in the atmosphere.

He saw Ava off to one side, a glass of wine in hand, her own icy eyes searching through the crowd for any possible threats. Agent Vale had been clear that this was supposed to be a low-risk event, because "even Trappers aren't dull-witted enough to try to pull something in the middle of an event this large with so many witnesses," but that didn't mean they should throw caution to the wind entirely. He was relieved to see Ava felt the same way.

"Have you ever done anything like this?" Billie asked, drawing his focus back. "Uh, since being with Unit Bravo, I mean," they quickly amended as soon as his gaze met theirs again, "not, not... before, you know."

"Not really," Mason huffed. "Nat sometimes gets pulled to go to these sorts of things, since she's so good at smooth-talking and knows all the rules. Ava might go along if Nat needs back up, but no, this isn't really my area. Or Felix's, for that matter," he adds with a glance back at the young vampire. Felix was laughing loudly as he swung his partner around the floor, completely abandoning the slower tempo of the song. 

"Fair enough," Billie smiled as they watched Felix's partner try to regain their balance.

They continued to dance together, hand in hand, exchanging small touches and making comments on their teammates, until the song slowly drew to an end. As the band played the final notes, Billie came to a stop and took a step back. Mason noted they didn't take their hand out of his, but made no move to do so himself either.

"Do you..." He watched as they glanced away, took a breath, and looked back to him. "Do you want to head outside? It'll be quieter there."

Mason hadn't really been listening to anything other than Billie's voice and heartbeat for a while now, but he wasn't about to say no to both getting away from the crowd and having another chance to put one of those all-consuming blushes on their face. 

"Lead the way, sweetheart."

 

 

The night air was cooler than he would really like, but Mason wasn't going to complain when it came with the relief of being away from the ritzy hell inside. A speaker had taken the stage after the dancing had puttered out, and apparently she was interesting enough that nobody else had taken the chance to escape to the balcony with them. He'd made sure to catch Ava's eye to let her see them head out and had gotten a brisk nod in return. Well, and a stare that was definitely warning him not to put the detective into any... compromising situations. He grinned at the thought as he folded his arms and leaned against the railing of the balcony, looking at the mountains in the distance; Billie was next to him, staring up at the clear night sky. Billie seemed content for the moment to let the quiet settle around them, and Mason didn't feel the need to break the silence himself, so, for a time, they just existed in each other's presence.

Getting a reaction out of Billie - any kind, really; embarrassed, exasperated, excited - was definitely his favorite way to spend their time together, but truthfully, this right here was a close second. He could feel the rest of the world fade into the background in a way it never did at any other time, his senses only picking up on the feel of the heat from Billie's skin and the sound of their heart thumping its steady rhythm and the faintly sweet scent of their shampoo.

And while Mason didn't understand the how or why of it, he could damn sure appreciate it. 

A cool breeze had him watching as Billie pushed their short hair back out of their eyes, drawing their gaze away from the sky for a moment, and that must have been enough for them to break out of their thoughts, because they turned to him and asked, "Do you like stargazing?"

He thought for a second and shrugged. "Not particularly."

Billie just hummed in response and turned back, looking up at the sky again. 

"Do you?" He asked in return.

They laughed. "Not particularly."

He raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"I don't feel especially strongly about the stars," Billie answered, somehow knowing he was asking without even looking. "I don't know them by name or anything, and I would struggle to point out any constellation if you asked, except maybe Orion's Belt. But... they are beautiful, you know?" They kept their eyes trained upward, as if searching for something as they spoke. "I've never been religious or spiritual, but there's a sort of kinship, knowing that you can look up and see the same stars people were seeing thousands of years ago."

They gave a heavy sigh before continuing. "We're too close to the city here to really get to see them, though. Light pollution, and all."

Mason huffed. "Damn shame."

Billie nodded firmly in agreement. "It is. I'd lived in the city for a few years after college before moving back here, and of course you can't see a thing there. It's not a bad life, living in the city, but I don't think I'd ever trade being able to see even just this." They looked at him from the corner of their eye and asked, "You guys said you'd been to Alaska, right? Were you able to see more than this?"

He leaned back from the railing as he thought. "I guess so. I didn't pay much attention at the time. It was so fucking cold, I was trying not to freeze to death."

Billie exhaled sharply in laughter and hummed quietly. "I wish I could see it. If you get far enough away from cities, you're supposed to be able to see all the stars, and the Milky Way, and some other planets, even. I bet it's gorgeous."

"Then why don't you?"

They started and turned to face him fully, their eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

"Why don't you go?" He repeated. "Make the trip, see the stars. They're not going anywhere."

They huffed quietly. "I can't exactly do something like that now."

"Why not?"

"Well," they started counting on their fingers, "I've got a bounty on my head for one; even if the supernaturals in the area I went to weren't aware of it, they'd be able to smell my battery-powering super blood, for two; and for three, I can't leave Wayhaven, knowing what... what Murphy's actions did." They had to stop and take a moment before they could say Murphy's name, and Mason felt his own eyes narrow at the mention of him. "Mom said that what he did would be attracting all sorts of supernaturals here, right? So how could I leave town for a vacation knowing —"

"And what makes you think you're alone in any part of this?"

Billie paused, three fingers still in mid-count. "I'm sorry?"

"The team is more than capable of handling whatever pops up here," he said, and then, without a second thought, he added, "and I'd go with you, dumbass."

Their mouth was gaping open now. "That's... you, I mean, you don't, you don't have to..."

Add 'eloquent' alongside 'graceful' on the list of Things Billie Isn't, Mason thought as he rolled his eyes. 

"We've been over this before, sweetheart."

He watched as Billie picked their jaw back up, and their expression slowly turned from shock to something like awe, though he wasn't quite sure why. Surely it wasn't that weird?

"You don't do things you don't want to do," they said, each word sounding somehow like it was a revelation to them, and suddenly it hit Mason, as well.

He had said those words to Billie before, that he didn't do things he didn't want to do, but he hadn't quite realized what they meant beyond the moment he said them. He didn't do things he doesn't want to do, so he only does things he wants to do. And what he wants to do...

Is be with Billie.

Huh.

He... wants to be around them. He wants to see their eyes light up when they see the stars they've never seen, like the way they've been lighting up recently when they look at him, and more than that, he wants them to see the stars just because they want to.

This was... something. Mason couldn't figure out what this was supposed to mean, if it meant anything at all beyond just wanting to see the stars in Billie's eyes.

Thankfully, Billie never left him lost for long. 

They took a step towards him and, taking his hand in theirs, softly asked, "Mason, will you come see the stars with me?"

Well, there was really only one way to answer that.

He entwined their fingers together, closed the gap between them, and after a brief moment to be sure they were okay with it, pressed his lips firmly over theirs. He wrapped his other arm around Billie's back as they eagerly responded, pulling them tightly against him so he could feel every inch of them as he desperately deepened the kiss. He felt their hand come up to bury itself in his hair and a groan escaped him as they gently grabbed hold.

He was so full of... something, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He wanted Billie, he wanted to be with them, around them, in them, he wanted to see their blush spread from their ears to their cheeks to their neck, he wanted to see them laughing, he wanted to see them crying out his name in pleasure, he wanted to see them happy; he wanted them, but he didn't know how to convey that. Not yet, anyway. So right now he would have to settle for what he did know, and what he knew was exactly how to push Billie's buttons until they were a sobbing mess.

He turned them around so his back was facing the entrance to the ballroom and Billie was against the railing, obscured from the view of any possible onlookers, as he slowly traced his hand along their suit from their back to their chest, dipping beneath the jacket to feel their nipple hardening through their shirt.

Billie had to break away from the kiss with a moan that was desperately trying not to become a whimper. "This is..."

"Do you want to stop?" Mason whispered. He watched as their eyes flickered behind him, and he extended his senses past just Billie. "That speaker is still going on, nobody's gonna come see. And there's no one below the balcony, either," he added. He spoke so closely to their lips that every word was nearly a kiss itself. "I'll stop before anyone would ever know. Trust me on that."

He watched their pupils dilate until there was only a sliver of blue left, and as soon as they nodded and he heard, "Go ahead," he crushed their lips together again and finally released Billie's other hand so he could use his to start unbuttoning their jacket and shirt. Both of Billie's hands were now finding purchase in his hair, and fuck, he had never had a thing for hair pulling before, but they were making a strong case for it at the moment.

With the jacket and shirt open, Mason let one hand come up to cup and knead a breast through their bra as his other traced the zipper on their pants. He did his best to swallow every moan Billie let out, and his best was damn good; he always wanted to hear the noises they made, but he wouldn't get to hear many more of them if he let someone overhear what they were doing out here, which was drastically more important.

He had planned to drag it out, let them feel every click of the zipper as it worked down the teeth as he worked over their mouth and breast, but Billie was as excited as he was. They brought one hand down from his head and grabbed the hand on their zipper, forcing it down all the way, and instead of returning that hand to its new home, they let it roam his chest, giving his nipple the same treatment. He tried to hold in a shiver and failed miserably, and the resulting grin he could feel breaking their kiss had him smirking in return.

"In a hurry, sweetheart? I thought you trusted me. I'm hurt," he teased, giving their breast a good squeeze before moving to the other.

"Oh, come off it." Their breathing was getting ragged, and they were having trouble focusing on his eyes, they were so worked up.

"That's the plan." Aha! There was that flush he liked so much, right at the ears. If he could keep it up, he would definitely be able to see it spread. "Do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?" He whispered, slipping his fingers under their underwear just enough to feel the soft curls there and running them along their sensitive skin. "Do you want to feel my fingers inside you?"

A whine escaped Billie as they tried their best to stay quiet without the aid of Mason's tongue, one hand still grasping his hair, the other clenched in his shirt.

Mason pulled their bra down so it sat under their breasts, pushing them up and letting the cool night air brush over both now-hard nipples before letting one hand return to cup them again and rolling a nub between thumb and forefinger. He let his breath ghost over their cheeks as he pushed just a little closer to where he knew they wanted him most right now. "I can smell it, you know. I can smell how wet you are, without even having actually touched you there. Do you know how good it is? How hard it gets me, to know how much you want it?"

"Mason, please, I - I need -"

"What is it? What do you need?" He traced the edge of their jaw with his tongue, delighting in the shiver they felt as the air cooled the line he left.

"I need you, please, Mason, just - mmph!"

He silenced their pleas with a kiss as he gave in. As much as he loved the teasing, they really didn't have a lot of time to play. He dipped his fingers between their folds, feeling how truly wet they were, slicking them up before slowly sliding one digit in. The sob of relief against his lips, the way their hips twitched forward with every circle of his thumb over their clit, the way he could feel every beat of their heart as if it were his own; fuck, he never got tired of this, could never get tired of this. Nothing else, no one else would ever compare.

He slid in another finger and curled them just so, committing the feel of every sound they made in his mouth to memory, squeezing their breast firmly and speeding up his hand. "Come on, sweetheart," He mumbled against their mouth, "Come on, Billie, come for me, right here." They cried into him again and he quickly ran his arm around their back to pull them closer as they came, clenching around his fingers and pulling his hair taut. He slowed his fingers, but never stopped their caress until he felt their hand thump gently against his chest; pulling his hand back out, he leaned back just far enough to see Billie's face, red and panting and eyes half closed with sudden exhaustion, but smiling wide all the same.

That same tightness in his chest hit him again at the sight, and rather than question it, he raised his hand to his mouth and started cleaning his fingers with his tongue, locking his grey eyes on blue. They shivered and let out a quiet curse as they watched, enraptured, their own tongue peeking out to lick their lips as he finished.

"What — " they had to clear their throat before trying again, and Mason couldn't help but be proud of the mess he'd made as they redid their clothing. "What about you?" 

He took another moment to listen out. People were starting to move around slowly, but he couldn't hear the speaker, so she must have just wrapped up. "Sounds like we don't have time for that now," he said. He smirked at the frown that appeared in response and stepped aside to lean against the railing again as he waited for his own arousal to fade. "Disappointed?" 

"Kinda," Billie admitted, turning their face out over the balcony, letting the night air cool the heat in their cheeks. 

Mason knocked his shoulder against theirs. "Don't worry about it. Let me come by after you head home, and you can show me all the stars you want."

He got a scoff and a shove for his trouble, but Billie also grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers before looking back up at the sky, so it was worth it.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc fic #sea's OCs #let's see if not adding the ao3 link will let it into the tag #IT FUCKEN WORKED WE DID IT LADS #don't mind me i'm dumb and only just now figured out how tumblr works #twc m

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

The Last Word: Shirley Manson on Fighting the Patriarchy and How Patti Smith Inspires Her

The Garbage singer also talks racial justice, living for now, and why legacy is an inherently masculine concern

Almost as soon as Garbage’s self-titled debut blew up overnight in 1995, their singer, Shirley Manson, became aware of the patriarchy running the music industry. Even though she was the group’s focal point — belting dusky electro-rock songs about making sense of depression (“Only Happy When It Rains”) and taking pride in nonconformity (“Queer”) — she was still a woman fronting a band of men, one of whom, Butch Vig, had produced Nirvana’s Nevermind. Almost immediately, she felt as though her role in the group was being devalued — not by the guys she worked with, but externally.

“There was a lot of stuff written about me in the music press, and that’s when I started to realize how I’m being diminished, how, in some cases, I’m being completely eradicated from the narrative because I’m female and not a man,” she says now. “I was talked over by lawyers; I was ignored by managers. The list goes on. It’s boring and tedious; there’s no point in me moaning about it now, but certainly, that was my awakening.”

That revelation emboldened her to speak out about equality and she quickly became a feminist icon, using her platform to bring attention to human rights, mental health, and the AIDS crisis. All the while, she wrote inclusive hit songs with Garbage about androgyny and reproductive rights (“Sex Is Not the Enemy”). On Garbage’s great new album, No Gods No Masters, she grapples with racial injustice, climate change, the patriarchy, and her own self-worth. But as weighty as the subject matter is, she approaches each song in her own uniquely uplifting way.

“I don’t think really the record is serious, per se,” the singer, 54, says, on an early May phone call. “I think it’s an indignant record. I think in indignance you can still carry humor with you, as well as softness, kindness, and love in your heart. I just felt it would be inauthentic to say anything other than what I was saying in my daily life across the dinner table from my friends and my family. I think as you get older as an artist, the challenge is, ‘How I can be my most authentic self?’ because that’s the most unique story I can tell. In an industry that’s just absolutely jam-packed to the rafters with ideas, opinions, melodies, and so on, you can’t afford to be anything other than your most authentic self. It won’t last.”

Authenticity and being true to herself are the qualities that have made Manson who she is. And those traits seem to guide her answers to Rolling Stone’s questions about philosophy, life lessons, and creature comforts for our Last Word interview.

What are the most important rules that you live by? I’m 54, which is ancient for the contemporary music industry. At this point, I feel like if it’s not fun, then I’m uninterested entirely. If somebody’s treating me poorly, I have to walk away. Life is so fricking short, and I’m three quarters of the way through mine already; I just want to have a good life, full of joy.

Who are your heroes and why? Patti Smith is a huge hero for me for a lot of different reasons. Most importantly, it’s because she’s a woman who has navigated her creative life so beautifully and so artfully, with such integrity and authenticity, and she has proven to me that a woman, an artist, does not have to subscribe to the rules of the contemporary music industry.

It’s very rare for other women to see examples of women actually working still in their seventies. That, to me, is really thrilling and really inspiring, and it fills me with hope. At times when you come up against the ageism, sexism, and misogyny that exists in our culture, I always try and picture Patti in my mind’s eye, and it always brings me back to center, like, “OK, adhere to your own rules. Design your own life. Be your own architect. You can continue to be an artist the rest of your life.” And to me, that’s life. That is a fully lived life.

You’re also a role model yourself. How do you handle that responsibility? I’m a bit speechless if the truth be told. I realize that I’ve now enjoyed a long career in music, and by default, I think people are inspired by that. I think whenever you see an artist, no matter who they are, when someone can endure, I think that’s exciting to everybody else, because it’s a message that says, “You too can get up when you think you’re done. You too can brush yourself off and try again.” By just continuing, you can help other people continue and fulfill themselves in ways that they thought they wouldn’t be able to.

I try to be a decent person. I make mistakes. I fuck people off. I say stupid shit. I’m not all-knowing; I am ignorant in so many ways. But I do try my best. I think that’s really all I can ask of myself.

How others perceive me is absolutely out of my control. There’s always going to be people who think I’m an arsehole, and that’s just part and parcel of being in the public eye. People are just going to hate on you, so I try not to take too much of it in; I don’t let it absorb me too much. I have gotten to that point in my life when I’m able to just go, “You know what? Fuck it. You can’t win them all.”

You once said that the idea of legacy was a masculine construct that you don’t believe in. Do you still feel that way? Yeah. I still very much believe in that. I know a lot of male artists who bang on about their legacy and their importance. Not to knock that if that’s what’s important to you but for me personally, what do I care? I’m going to be dead and gone and totally unconscious of any so-called legacy that I might leave behind. I want fun now. I want to have a good life now. I want to eat good food now and have great sex. It’s absolutely meaningless to me what happens after I’m gone. I want to use my time wisely, and that’s all that I really am concerned with, to be honest.

What is it about legacy that’s inherently masculine? This is armchair psychology, so please forgive me, but I’m sure it has something to do with how women have this uterus that can bear children. I think that’s profound. One of the few gifts that men have not been given is that ability to create with your body, and your blood, and your heat and all these nutrients from your body. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why you don’t hear as many women banging on about the great legacy they’re going to leave behind. I think for women it’s their kids.

You’re Scottish. What is the most Scottish thing about you these days? I’ve got a lot of grit, and it’s served me really well in my career. I think that is a really Scottish trait. The Scottish people are tough, and they also have a good sense of humor. So, grit with humor. I should say “gritted with humor,” in the same way we grit roads.

As you were saying “grit,” it occurred to me that a lot of your songs are about survival and moving forward, going back to “Stupid Girl” or “Only Happy When It Rains.” They’re about perseverance. [Pauses] I think it’s funny you should say that because I’m just sort of like, “Wow, he might be right.” I do think that a huge theme for me is, “How do you overcome? How do we all overcome?” Things can be great for a while; things will not be great forever. And to every single life, these challenges appear. We all have to reconfigure ourselves in order to try to hurl ourselves over obstacles in order to have the kind of life we hope for. So I do think you’ve shocked me a little by discovering a theme for me. Yay, I feel thrilled. I have a theme. It’s exciting.

“Waiting for God” is one of my favorite songs on the album because of the way you address racial justice. How can we, as a society, fight white indifference? You know, that’s a question right there. It’s interesting that you use the words “white indifference,” because one of the things that shocked me so greatly is the ambivalence and the apathy of white people all over the world who are seeing what we’re seeing on our TVs and on the internet, and yet not having the moral courage to speak up. I think the most important thing we can do is pull back the carpet to see the mess on the floor in order for us to actually start cleaning it up.

If we could curtail some of the brutality of police against black people, that would be a good start. I think it’s going to be decades and decades and decades before we can start to really equalize our societies so that everyone is enjoying the spoils of Western wealth over in the developing world. It’s necessary that we try and help these countries that aren’t as powerful or as wealthy. It’s good for the whole world if we start to improve situations for everyone. Nobody will lose anything, and everyone has everything to gain.

But if I had the answers to how we go about fixing it, I would be in politics and not in music. I just know what I believe to be right, and I’m doing my best to use my voice to try and encourage my friends, my little ecosystem, to start with paying attention and supporting black businesses and elevating black voices and black talent.

What’s your favorite book? I have so many. The one that springs to mind would be American Pastoral by Philip Roth. I loved All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy. I loved The Collected Works of Billy the Kid by Michael Ondaatje. I loved Winnie the Pooh and Wuthering Heights. I’ve got so many that have really stuck with me that are classics.

My most favorite recent book that I’ve just finished reading is Dancer by Colum McCann about [Russian ballet dancer Rudolf] Nureyev. I was just absolutely mesmerized by it. It was just such a fantastic read, and he’s such a miraculous writer. He brought out Apeirogon last year about the struggle in between Palestine and Israel. He talks about this complicated mess with such clarity, kindness, and generosity. I couldn’t believe Apeirogon didn’t get more fuss made of it last year. Somehow it just seemed to get buried in the morass of other books, and of course the suffering that Covid had brought upon the earth.

What advice do you wish you could give your younger self? “Take up your space.” When I was growing up, to be a girl was to be told to minimize the space you took up: “Close your legs. Don’t be loud. Smile. Be cute. Be attractive. Be pleasing.” I inherently balked against that as a kid. I was a rebellious kid, and I wasn’t going to sit in the corner and be quiet. I’ve never been like that. However, looking back, I still notice some of the patterns of my own compliance. It’s not that I hate myself for it, but I just wish I could turn around and say to my young self, “Take your seat. If there’s not a seat there, drag a seat up to the table and sit down.”

I’m still really aware of the sexism and misogyny that I have had to battle throughout my career. I’m not crying, “Woe is me,” because I’ve obviously flourished in my career, and it obviously didn’t hold me back enough to hamper me in any way. But I feel for all the women who were unlike me, who didn’t have my forcefulness of personality, or my education, or my ability to articulate myself. I want that for all people, though; I want all people to stop trying to please, and accept that some people will like that, and some people won’t, and that’s OK. It’s OK that some people just don’t dig you.

On the topic of gender, I got a kick out of your song “Godhead,” where you ask if people would treat you differently “if I had a dick.” I’m really proud of that song, because I think it’s talking about something really serious, and it’s really fun. It’s about addressing the patriarchy, and how omnipresent it is. When I was young, I was so busy trying to make it, I didn’t see that there was a patriarchy in place. And it’s only as an adult, I start looking back going, “Oh, wow — when that A&R man told me to my face that he wanked over pictures of me, that was really uncool.” But at the time, you kind of laugh it off and just press on.

I was oblivious to it. In this song, I’m talking about how patriarchy bleeds into absolutely everything, specifically under organized religion. The “Godhead” is the male, and we are all under the godhead forever, and that’s unquestioned, and how crazy is that? Because a dude holds a higher position in society, because he’s got a dick and a pair of balls. Often, these balls are smaller than my own [laughs].

It just gets silly after a while, when you watch other men protect other men just for the sake of protecting the patriarchy. So few men are willing to speak up about bro culture and call into question the behavior of the men they are associated with. There’s just a reluctance by men to address this absolutely shocking, terrifying, depressing, pathetic assault by men of other people’s bodies.

In 1996, your bandmate Butch Vig said about you, “So many singers screamed to convey intensity, and she does the opposite. It just blew us away.” How did you come up with that approach? I don’t know. I’ve found that when people speak to me quietly, I feel the most threatened because I’m really comfortable with conflict. I thrive on conflict. It excites me in a funny way. When people are shouting, I don’t feel scared. I like to shout back; that’s just how my family were. We’d just start to shout at each other all the time. I’m not scared of elevated temper. For me, when people get really quiet, that’s when I know they’re really serious, because they’re in control of their rage, and that’s when they’re most deadly.

The last question I have is a shallow one. I love being cheap and superficial.

What’s the most indulgent purchase you’ve ever made? At the height of my success, I hired a person who would shop for me and then send everything in a big box to my hotel room. I would choose what I wanted and return anything else. One day, this beautiful pair of Italian leather boots arrived. I wore a pair very similar in the “Stupid Girl” video, and I thought, “Oh, yeah, these are really me. I’m going to keep these. These are amazing.” It was only when I got back from tour, I found out they cost $5,000. I can’t even laugh about it. It makes me so crazy. I still have these boots. I’d like to get rid of them just so that I never have to look at them again, but there they are every day, warning me of my own greed.

#shirley manson #garbage #2021 interviews

[redrobin-detective]

I would love it if you wrote something with Billy in the identity reveal AU! Maybe with him while he's still in the adjustment period a bit after the reveal and has to deal with adults who don't understand, either as Billy or as Captain Marvel.

The sound of an explosion followed by the dull rumble of a collapsing building; the citizens screams loud enough to be heard for blocks. What more invitation did a hero need? In an instant, Captain Marvel took to the skies to help. He was still a hero, even if most of the world disagreed and he would never turn his back on people who needed him.

The building was coming down fast, he needed to get the people inside to safety even faster. He flew through a broken window and looked at every terrified face.

“I’m here to help, how many of there are you?” He asked already scooping as many as he could into his arms.

“There’s three floors,” an older woman said, her brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you wait for help, young man?” With the building literally crumbling under their feet?

“No time, ma’am,” he said curtly as he dropped the small group off before using the Speed of Mercury to whiz back up methodically searching each and every floor for signs on life. Even to the people he hadn’t made it to in time, he gingerly picked up their bodies and brought them safely below. Finally, the building caved in on itself and collapsed with no people inside, just 120 seconds from when the first boom had sounded. Captain Marvel grinned, surveying the scene. He bets even the Flash couldn’t have done it that fast.

“Alright, everyone step back away from the site so I can start in on the debris, if you’re hurt there’s ambulances back there. Please help each other out, I’m sure we’ll start working on getting a place for you to stay in the meantime.”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” a young man asked with broken glasses. “Oh God I thought I was dead back there, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Marvel smiled, being happy and content and as tall as the Gods right now. Which is predictably when the media showed up.

“Captain Marvel! Were you scared going into the collapsing building all by yourself?” One reporter questioned.

“No Ma’am, I have the Courage of Achilles on my side, it takes a lot more than that to scare me,” he responded, moving some rubble so emergency service could help finish of the fires. 

“Marvel! The city has requested you turn yourself back over to social services? What sort of message do you send to your fans by not cooperating.” Another asked and the part of Billy deep inside the hero sighed. 

“My personal life has nothing to do with my hero work,” he said professionally even though he wanted to scream that he could barely walk outside anymore as Billy Batson. That he had to hide in his own city from more people who just want to use and abuse his power. Instead, he held his tongue and continued to move the rubble.

“Mr. Batson! You are aware that the government has placed your membership with the Justice League on hold given the recent revelation of your true age? Are you voicing your disapproval of the government by continuing to fight?” One demanded. 

“When I’m at work I expect to be referred to by my hero name,” He said with more venom than he really needed to. “And no, I was blessed with my powers from the Gods which means the government nor the League speaks for me. I do what I can and no one will ever stop me from helping those in need.”

“William, why don’t you leave all this to the grown-ups?” Another asked softly and Billy felt so very exposed, so very human, in his godly body. He truly felt like Atlas, carrying the weight of not just the World on his shoulders, but Billy’s smaller world. It wasn’t much but it felt so very heavy in that moment.

“Because I have the power to help, to effect good change. I was blessed with these abilities and I will not let something so inconsequential stop me from doing what’s right,” he frowned before staring down the reporters. “In this form, I am an adult in mind and body and expect to be addressed as such. I will answer no personal questions, is that understood?” For a beautiful, blissful moment, the reporters in the crowd looked most contrite. He could almost pretend that his identity was still a secret, that he could still a hero people looked up to and respected. That he could be more than just a dirty, lost kid. And then Superman showed up.

“Bill, I heard there was trouble, is there anything I can help with?” Superman asked, floating gently to the ground. Great, the Babysitting Brigade was here. 

“No, Superman,” Marvel said because Billy wasn’t so impolite as to call a hero by their first name in public, “as you can see I have it all wrapped up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish cleaning up.” He announced turning away from the group to do some real work.

“Let me help,” Superman said, following. “It’s like my Ma always says, Many Hands Make Light Work.”

“I don’t-” Marvel snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I appreciate the thought, as always, but I’m just as strong as you and I can take care of my city by myself.”

“Yes well,” Superman said, not agreeing or disagreeing on the sentiment. “We just worry about you, son. We’ve having a helluva oh pardon me a heckuva time trying to keep you in the League which means we have to be careful. If you were to get hurt, well, just try to see it from our perspective.” Marvel clenched his fists and went to work. No one ever bothered to see from his point of view or to ask his opinions anymore. Because no matter how strong or fast or wise he was, from here on out, he’d always be the little kid playing superhero. If only he could click his heels and turn 18 already. 

“Fine,” Marvel said, “Let’s get this done but I’m serious about all this coddling. I am a hero the same as the rest of you and I don’t deserve this kind of treatment.”

“Of course, Billy, of course,” Superman said but the gentle, placating tone said otherwise. Billy had a feeling the next 6 years were going to pass awfully slowly. 

#No secret identities AU #Billy Batson #Billy is a bitter bean and its spilling over into Marvel #and can you blame him? #the JLA means well but I imagine they become such helicopter parents #Bill might out and out leave the League just to get away from the suffocating 'help' #Anonymous #dc writing prompts

[wickedlittleoz]

“did you think i forgot?” 👀

this took FOREVER, i’m SOOO sorry 3

hope you like it, though. thanks for the ask, boo 💜

(Also on AO3)

* * *

December 11th

It’s a little past two in the morning. The music, that until a couple hours ago had been so loud his bones rattled with bass lines and guitar riffs, has faded to a soft hum—mostly due to the neighbors calling the cops on Cheryl’s party. Most of the people that had been crowding the little two-bedroom house has left. Those who are still here are either passed out on the floor and couch, or making out in one of the bedrooms.

Billy’s sitting in a small circle of five people. Aside from him there are Tim Jones and George Walker, both of which also play in the basketball team, Cheryl Allen herself and Steve Harrington. They sit cuddled close; Cheryl has been in his arm all night and Billy’s willing to bet she only planned this whole party just to get in his pants.

Well, considering how they’d been absent from the party for a couple hours until the cops showed up, he thinks Cheryl got what she wanted.

There’s a smug little smile on the corner of Harrington’s mouth, his eyes hooded and glazed over from alcohol and lust, and Billy can’t help the way his insides stir at the sight.

Harrington has only recently recovered completely from the incident at the Byers’. Billy isn’t proud of what happened that night, but all things considered, it could be worse. And if Maxine had stayed put like she should, nothing would’ve happened, so they can only blame it on her.

The truth is Harrington has done a great job of avoiding him since then, but the look in his face, when he ever looks at Billy, tells him he’s not doing it out of fear; on the contrary—should they ever bump ways again, Billy would probably be the one to end with a fucked up face.

The idea excites him more than it should.

Cheryl leans over to spin the bottle at the center of the circle and giggles childishly when it lands on Jones. She crawls over to him and Billy watches as Harrington’s eyes follow the line of her tiny tulle skirt. He licks his lips, tugs at his jeans uncomfortably. Cheryl moves back to her seat when they’re done kissing and Steve looks up.

Their eyes meet. Billy smiles, winks.

He blushes.

“Your turn, Billy,” Cheryl chants sweetly, bites her lower lip in an attempt at seduction. He directs his sharky smile at her, watches as she blushes the same soft shade of pink as Harrington.

About a month ago she’d been throwing herself at him; Billy took her out on a Friday night and fucked her in the back of the car, and they never even kissed. Come Monday she’d changed the focus of her attention to Harrington, which all led up to tonight. She hadn’t been his best lay, but one thing has to be said: she knows how to get what she wants.

Billy can feel her eyes still locked on him when he reaches out and spins the cheap wine bottle. It goes for a while, a long while, or maybe he’s a little too drunk and everything seems to last longer than it should, but when it finally comes to a halt it’s pointing at Harrington.

Cheryl squeals, covers her eyes in fake embarrassment, and Jones and Walker both groan with disgust. Billy sets his eyes on Harrington’s face and when he looks from the bottle to Billy’s blue-almost-black-in-the-dark irises, there’s some sort of fear in his features that Billy didn’t expect; it knocks his balance a little loose, and before he knows it, Harrington has scrambled up to his feet and left.

When she peeks between her fingers and realizes there’s no actual kissing happening, Cheryl looks more disappointed than hurt that her date is gone.

December 31st

The bonfire party has been going on for a few hours now; he doesn’t understand how all these teens managed to escape their over-protective parents to spend New Year’s Eve at a party, at the quarry, but here they are.

At first it was just himself and Tommy and Carol. The couple showed up in Carol’s mom’s car, both already hammered and nearly driving the old Ford into a tree. Billy had to arrange the wood by himself; he didn’t trust letting Tommy close to fire with how drunk he was, and Carol complained that she didn’t want to ruin her New Year’s mani.

Then, other people started to arrive and soon the air was filled with music and their off-key singing and talking. As the night progressed, though, couples disappeared into darker corners and cars, and Billy resorted to sitting by himself on the hood of the Camaro to watch the sky.

(Truth be told, the sky is gorgeous here compared to L.A.)

When they all start shouting excitedly and circling the bonfire again, abandoning their make-out spots in favor of clinking beer bottles and hugging friends, Billy checks his watch. It’s 11:59pm.

He looks around at the small crowd all joining closer to the fire, spots Cheryl already hanging off of Tim Jones’ arm, chuckles to himself.

He stops when his eyes land on Harrington, because he’s staring back at him. He’d been watching before. Billy holds his gaze, thinks sooner or later Harrington is gonna look down, because he always does it, doesn’t have enough confidence to keep watching when Billy grins, licks his lips languidly, scratches a spot on his ever exposed chest and “accidentally” brushes a nipple. Hisses. Harrington does look away (victory!, Billy huffs a laugh), blushing and curling into himself with his hands tucked in his pockets.

But he doesn’t leave to join the rest of the group closer to the fire. He stays where he is, a couple feet away from Billy, and looks back at him a moment later.

And that’s an invitation if Billy’s ever seen one.

10!

He pushes off of the car, eyes roaming around to make sure everyone is well distracted with the countdown to midnight. No eyes follow him as he saunters over to where Harrington’s standing, drunk and flushed and almost shy, and nothing like the Keg King Billy heard so much about when he first arrived.

9!

He slows down, stops about a foot away from him. Harrington’s breath catches when he leans over and asks, “Can I help you with something, Harrington?”

8!

It’s unnerving how empty Harrington’s eyes feel sometimes. No glow, no pride. He looks on the verge of tears most of the time.

Billy knows he has no right to expect anything from him, especially since that November night, but even if he didn’t have the fire that Tommy kept going on about from their younger years, something actually died in him after November and he sometimes… Wonders if it was somewhat his fault.

7!

Well, he’d definitely had some help from Wheeler in ruining Harrington.

Billy glances around, realizes with a startle that she and her new boy-toy are cuddled on the hood of his car a couple feet away.

Which explains Harrington’s sad puppy eyes.

6!

Harrington seems to find some resolve when he follows Billy’s eyes back to Wheeler, tightens his jaw, crosses his arms. There was really no reason for Billy to continue to tease him any longer, now that he understood where all the sulking was coming from—Wheeler and Byers don’t make the reckless teenager type, so their presence here is nothing ordinary. But the way Harrington grits his teeth and spits, “I don’t need anything from you, Hargrove”, is just so delicious that Billy wants more.

5!

He leans further in, could count the lashes in his eyes if he wanted, if it wasn’t so dark. Feels Harrington’s warm breath in his face, revels in the smell of alcohol, knows the boy won’t remember any of this in the morning.

“Do you want me to be your midnight kiss?” He offers, smiles, bats his eyes like a girl—like Cheryl—would.

4!

Again, like in that night at the party, Harrington freezes, his eyes widening in what can only be described as fear. It takes him a moment and Billy holds his ground, continues to smile in his face, until fear merges into hatred in the blink of an eye, so fast Billy doesn’t have time to dodge the fist.

3!

His nose is bleeding, but he cackles. Laughter simply bubbles out of him, because the pain is something he knows. By now it doesn’t mean anything other than a nose that will ache for a couple days and get girls to feel bad for him, fuck him easier.

But even as he laughs and laughs, and Harrington starts to walk away, no one looks at them.

2!

Billy watches him get in his car and drive off as fireworks start to burst in the sky, just seconds too early. He tugs his shirt off, blows his nose, knowing full well he’ll have to wash it later because Neil would kill him if he made Susan scrub blood off his clothes.

But his thoughts aren’t on Neil or Susan or his own fucking blood.

1!

He’s wondering how he missed the signs. How didn’t he see it in Harrington’s eyes? The longing.

Wondering how long has Harrington himself known, how long has he hidden.

It makes him laugh some more.

Happy new year!

May 8th, 11:45am

The sun is high and blinding above them as they sit on row after row of foldable chairs on Hawkins High’s football field. The principal is giving a half-hour speech and Billy knows it’ll be some time until the ceremony is over.

He wishes he could go for a smoke.

Glancing around he sees all the other graduates surrounded by family members, moms fretting at their gowns. To his right, no one’s sitting on the chairs reserved for his family. He overheard Susan asking in whispers that morning if Neil really thought they shouldn’t go to his graduation and there was no audible response from his father, but he figures the look he gave her must’ve been enough because she didn’t insist and, well, here he is.

At this point Billy doesn’t bother with the absence of his family, if anything he likes it better this way. But judging by the way his shoulders are hunched and he’s forcing himself to listen to a 13-year-old, Harrington cares about the fact that his parents aren’t here.

He’s sat in the row ahead of Billy, three chairs to his left. To his right is Maxine’s curly-haired friend whose name Billy never learns, but remembers by the fact that he’s annoying. Smart mouthed, like her. Right now he’s going on about some movie franchise that—it’s clear in his face—Harrington doesn’t even know.

Billy grins, despite the suffocating heat and the annoying voice of the principal droning on and on, metallic over the speakers. Since New Year’s Eve, Harrington has been trying so much harder to avoid Billy that it’s almost cute. Comical, the way he pretends not to see him, pretends not to shiver when Billy checks into him at practice, when he slides his hand across Harrington’s chest to later shove him away. When he lets his fingers brush over his shoulders in the showers with the excuse of reaching for soap.

He wants to rip the truth from him. It’s a wonder he didn’t see it before, but it’s all there and lately he’s like a man in a desert, thirsty for Harrington. Which Billy isn’t used to, because when he wants someone, he gets them. Fast. Now his mind has been buzzing with thoughts of Harrington over the last four months and he’s tired of waiting for him to come to the brilliant conclusion that he’s into dick on his own.

“Asshole,” he hears a curt whisper, turns his head in the direction of Maxine’s familiar voice. “Come sit here.”

She’s standing next to the curly-haired boy. He, in turn, is looking from Max to Billy with equal levels of disgust and shock, like he can’t understand why she’s inviting him over.

To be fair, Billy can’t either.

He imagines she’s going to be in trouble when Neil realizes where she’s off to, considering he made it very clear he didn’t want anyone to attend. But that’s her problem, not his.

Next to the kid, Harrington is staring at his hands, ears pink with the effort not to look at Billy. He wants to laugh; grins instead, turning back to Max.

“Nah, thanks. Just ‘cos it’s my last day in this hell doesn’t mean I’m gonna start mingling with nerds,” he says lazily, pushing his aviators onto the bridge of his nose and crossing his arms.

Max rolls her eyes before sinking into the chair. “Whatever, asshole. You wanna be alone, that’s your problem.”

He can’t help the bitter laughter that bubbles out of him when he realizes, thankfully, they’re both on the same page—to each their own problems.

Out of the corner of his eye he catches the moment Harrington gives in and glances quickly at him. His lips are pursed; his cheeks, the same shade of pink as his ears. Billy doesn’t know if he’s flustered or just sunburnt. He smiles at Harrington anyways, the smile he often gives moms when he wants something from them—usually their daughters.

The shade of his blush darkens and he turns back to the principal, who’s finally done with his speech.

Billy smiles to himself.

May 8th, 11:45pm

He learns from Maxine that Harrington’s throwing a last-minute graduation party. She’s complaining and upset that he kicked her and her little friends out of his pool earlier than customary when Billy arrives at the arcade to pick her up.

Billy doesn’t need an invitation to show up at parties; the best ones are the ones he’s forbidden of attending. Like Harrington’s tonight.

When he drives into his rich people neighborhood, Billy isn’t surprised at the silence, the fact that all the houses are dark and the streets are calm. If people look outside their windows when he drives past, he just flips them the bird and keeps going, his laughter and the purr of the Camaro echoing in empty streets.

What really surprises him is how quiet Harrington’s place is. There are no cars piling up the block, no loud music, no sign of people throwing up in neighbors’ yards. The house is all dark, except for the pathway that leads to the back lawn.

He’s dropped Maxine here before, so he knows for certain that this is the right place. He thinks maybe Harrington lied to the kids and he’s actually got a date. Or this is a trap, which he’s more than willing to fall for.

Whatever, he climbs off the car and jumps over the small fence. His footsteps are loud even if he walks slowly, because it’s so quiet, and something eerie crawls up his spine, wondering if this is it, this is how the dies, not at his father’s hand, but lusting over a dude.

He turns the corner and Harrington’s sitting by the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, naked except for a pair of blue swimming trunks.

His heart races when Harrington looks up, smiles at him, his face a weird shade of blue because he’s fucking rich and has a pool and his fucking pool has lights.

“I heard there was going to be a party,” he says. His voice echoes, gets lost in the woods behind the pool.

Harrington scoffs, rolls his eyes before pushing himself into the water. Billy’s already dropping his keys and wallet on the table to his left when Harrington emerges again, pushing his hair back with long, long fingers. Stares up at Billy, a kind of invitation in his eyes that he wouldn’t dare turn down.

For a moment he’s glad he chose to put on underwear that night—not that he minds being naked. Still, he dresses down to his black Calvins, pads over the still warm cement and slips into the water, all the time aware of Harrington’s eyes locked on him.

Silence stretches between them if not for the sloshing of water. Billy knows what this silence means, that it speaks more than words could ever transcribe. He’s felt it before, when the water was louder and saltier around him, with golden boys like himself.

It’s the silence and the way Harrington’s eyes don’t shy away from his for a long time that tells Billy that Harrington isn’t as clueless as he seems.

“The answer’s yes,” he says after a while when Billy’s already starting to wonder if this isn’t a dream.

He blinks, frowns. “What’s the question?”

Harrington huffs a laugh, lets his eyes drop down to the water. Billy watches his cheeks tint red and thinks suddenly that red could be his favorite color.

When Harrington steps closer, raises his eyes again, Billy’s the one to blush.

“You offered to be my New Year’s kiss,” Harrington says, a little hesitantly. “Did you think I forgot?”

He’s struck for a moment, wordless. Not because Harrington remembers—sure, he’d been drunk, but Billy had sported a broken nose that everyone saw Harrington give him.

No, what shocks him is that he planned all this, the fake party, the pool. Only to use that stupid moment against him.

But heaven knows he’s a man of his word.

“That was months ago,” he says just to tease, just to see the way Harrington’s eyes glow when he steps further, dares touch his waist.

“Have you changed your mind?” One of his brow arches up and Billy laughs.

You wish, he thinks bitterly before effectively grabbing at Harrington’s skin, pulling him so close that all he knows, all he feels is his skin. He lets their mouths slide together. There’s a whimper and Harrington’s lips part, and Billy corners him into the wall as his tongue pushes in.

Harrington buries his fingers in his hair, tugs at his curls, but Billy doesn’t mind. Not when it sends shivers down his spine. Not when it makes his heart beat faster.

When Harrington pulls back, breath short and quickened, he keeps their foreheads pressed together.

Of all the ways Billy imagined their first kiss, nothing was close to this. Sober, alone and with time to find what feels good, what feels right. He always thought they’d be drunk at a party and Harrington would run away as soon as Billy finished jerking him off. This still feels like a dream.

“What took you so long?” He asks just to hear his voice, to know it’s real.

“Indiana isn’t California, Hargrove,” he murmurs. “If we’d kissed at that party, we’d be dead next week.”

His words are heavy, albeit true. Billy knows. It wasn’t easy in California, where people were open-minded and talked freely of everything, everywhere. Here it would mean death.

“And…”

Harrington trails off and Billy waits a minute, maybe two before asking, “And?”

“I was still…” He says between soft kisses that he presses into Billy’s jawline. He noses into the crook of Billy’s neck and takes a moment to breath him in. Billy feels himself breathing at the same pace. “I was still figuring myself out.”

He knows he should say something supportive, in the lines of it’s okay, but he can’t bring himself to. Instead, he just searches for Harrington’s mouth. His lips hover over Harrington’s for a moment. His warm breath is a contrast against the cold water around them.

“Happy New Year,” he whispers and feels Harrington smile before kissing him again.

#stranger things #my fics #wicked little talks #writing prompts #asks #harringrove #harringrove fics #fanfiction #fanfics #ao3 #steve x billy #steve/billy #steve harrington #billy hargrove #first kiss

[prairiedust]

Purgatory Revisited Part One

We’re going to Wally World!!!! I’m laughing so hard like going after a leviathan blossom lolololkhfhfdshfkh;aharihfndwhat the ever lovin hell with this show does it come with a ramekin of Blossom Sauce TM?

So back to Purgatory. This is fine.

no it’s not fine asdfh;jkhgifgrhhg so the reason I’m keysmashing is this: I have wanted another “descent into the underworld” plotline (plot, not incidence) since Cas made his deal with the Empty, because that is just a truckload of unfinished business. And I thought that we’d gotten “all” of the underworld allusion in The Rupture and Golden Time, and that the next textual underworld journey we could expect would have something to do with the Empty! (Although it really is starting to feel like that has been dropped completely, esp in light of the Shadow and Billie both waking up Jack and appearing to be allies. Unless that is another “gotcha” waiting to hatch unexpectedly...) So circling back around to Purgatory when there’s other loose ends to tie up is a surprise.

When I think about it, Sam’s underworld journey was allegorically bringing back Eileen, Cas’ would (supposedly) be settling his score with the Shadow, and so Purgatory 2: Return to Purgatory would be Dean’s. But Cas is allegedly coming with Dean… this is interesting. Hey look, kids, there’s Big Ben, and there’s Parliament, and there’s Big Ben, and there’s Parliament!

Why am I excited about a “descent into the underworld”? Why, when our heroes jump back and forth between different realms like they’re walking in a park? Why was I not yelling about this when Castiel and Jack jumped into the Hellmouth? (psst it was partly because he was going with someone else, yet here we are.) And how many times have our heroes been dead? I mean, Dean was dead just as recently as Advanced Thanatology! And all three of them just now held onto a magic bowl and were Bedknobs and Broomsticked into Hell in the midseason finale, it wasn’t even that hard??? What’s the big deal and why is Purgatory 2: Return to Purgatory any different than any other trip to one of Spn’s many otherworlds?

This is the first of at least two, and possibly three, and four is not entirely out of the question, hot-mess posts over the course of the hiatus and is just over 4k. I’ve rewritten this so many times and I still don’t know what the point of posting it would be, but here, try to enjoy some rambling about mythology and heroes’ descents into the underworld.

Many mythologies and works of literature have stories about descents into the underworld. The descent of a hero into the underworld is called “katabasis.” Actually almost any descent into the underground in myth and literature is called a katabasis/catabasis, but I’m talking about a typical “hero goes to hell” kind of story. In Greek mythology, Hercules goes to the underworld to complete one of his twelve labors-- as his final task he has to capture Cerberus, the guardian of the gates to the underworld, so down he goes, has some adventures in the netherworld-- and as half-divine, he gets back out-- and then goes back down to give Cerberus back to Hades, and gets back from his second journey okay too. Odin journeys to Hel in order to find out what happened to his son Baldur, who it turns out was in Hel. The Japanese god Izanagi journeys to Yomi, the underworld, to try to get his wife Izanami back (but similar to other legends about otherworlds and underworlds, Izanami has consumed food and can never leave.) In literature, Dante Alighieri wrote one of the alleged masterworks of Western literature about an imaginary descent into Christian Hell in The Inferno, where Dante and Virgil descend into the famous nine circles and he basically spills the tea on most of his contemporaries and passive-aggressively doles out everyone’s just desserts and then witnesses the morningstar’s icy torment, and climbs back out through the center of the Earth and out Mount Purgatory. In Michael Chricton’s Jurassic Park-- just kidding. Ha ha no, I’m not. There’s a powerful catabasis at the end of that book that leads to a revelation about the dinosaurs. Think about how many movies and books there are that feature a descent underground, a descent into a netherworld, or even just a trip to an otherworld. Tom Sawyer. Hellboy. Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. The Empire Strikes Back. The Last Jedi. It’s a powerful tale type. 

So @drsilverfish and I have talked a bit about one of the most famous “descent into the underworld” stories, Orpheus and Eurydice, as it features in season 15. Orpheus and Eurydice were deeply in love-- however, on their wedding day, Eurydice was bitten by a viper and died. Orpheus, the most skilled poet and musician in the world, was unable to go on without her, and played a song so sad that every creature in the cosmos wept with him and eventually he journeyed to Hades’ kingdom in order to plead to Hades for Eurydice’s return. Orpheus sang so compellingly that Persephone, Hades’ part-time wife (herself able to move between these two worlds on a technicality,) was moved to tears and convinced Hades to let Eurydice and Orpheus go. However, Hades has one requirement: Orpheus is NOT to turn around to see Eurydice’s shade until the sunlight touches her. We all know, however, that as soon as the sun touched him he turned around. It was too soon, Eurydice had not crossed into the upper world, and she disappeared back into the underworld forever.

Stories about descents or attempted descents into the underworld often ask us to reflect on the cyclical nature of time, as in the story of Persephone, loss as in the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, the finality and inevitability of death, as in the Epic of Gilgamesh, or themes of vulnerability, justice, and cosmic/karmic balance as feature in both the story of Inanna and the sister-stories of Odysseus and Aeneid. Supernatural has dealt with those themes, as well.

What makes descents into the underworld different from other journey-into-otherworld stories is that usually there is no way out of the land of the dead, and the ability of our hero or heroine to cross that boundary both ways sets them apart as truly exceptional. So there is also an element of liminality to descent stories-- while not necessarily liminal places in and of themselves, there is usually a border, gate, doorway, wall, or membrane of some sort that has to be navigated, and these gates are supposed to only work one way-- into the netherworld. Yet our heroes cross and sometimes re-cross. But we already know that about Sam and Dean and Cas, they’ve died multiple times, came right back, visited Hell, came right back, went to Purgatory, made it back, so what’s my deal?...

Well, getting into this allusion, tne thing that makes the story of Orpheus so unsatisfying is because the contract of the story is not fulfilled, the thing we’re rooting for does not happen-- in many descent into the underworld stories, the hero takes on the journey voluntarily, has an objective, and ascends successfully with that objective or having fulfilled it (this is a tentative thesis afaik, because other stories are considered to be katabasis stories that don’t necessarily fit these requirements. But for Spn, this seems to be what is coming up based on the template from The Rupture, Last Call, and especially Golden Time. And I really wanted to find something to back this up but goddamn is the internet (and even databases like JSTOR) a freaking mess nowadays.) 

Golden Hour was a clear allusion-- almost a retelling-- of the Orpheus and Eurydice story. There was the “descent” into the land of the dead-- Rowena’s hexed apartment-- and then the only living person who could enter it without dying was Sam, marking him as exceptional. Therein he found a spell, authored by someone who has become the queen of the dead, to bring Eileen back to life. While doing the spell, he kept his back to her during her journey back to life-- on the surface level reading, it was (maybe!) because he knew her ghost-clothes wouldn’t come back with her, but on the allegorical level it was because Sam, as Orpheus, passed the test and didn’t look back until he knew that the sun shone on her. When an underworld quest fails, it is often because there is some lesson that the hero has to learn about death and life and grief; the lesson for Orpheus is that of the peril of thresholds, the permanence of loss, and patience-- those are not lessons that Sam necessarily needs to learn.

In the allusion we got to the Orpheus and Eurydice story, we also got a terrible wrong righted-- as it was unjust that Eurydice died on her wedding day and it wasn’t fair that Orpheus didn’t follow the rules, Eileen had been dragged off to Hell when the Hellhound killed her, and by Chuck’s rules could not get into Heaven, and so bringing her back into the “sunlit lands” was a rectification of that injustice. In the myth, when Orpheus loses Eurydice at the end, it’s just so goddamn sad, and is an unfulfilled expectation. Glynn fixed that. 

Golden Time was a beautiful subversion of a famously tragic ending. There are some ways in which subversion of stories are fulfilling-- when Glynn altered and subverted the Orpheus and Eurydice trope, it satisfied a lot of viewers and gave the myth a happier ending. But sometimes, subversion of a story just leaves us wanting…

I thought fleetingly that the Orpheus trope might apply to Cas in the Empty in season 13, but again it didn’t fit well, and ultimately he wasn’t rescued from the Empty like Eurydice from the underworld. Man did I want that, though, I really wanted someone to fight for Cas to get back. What we got was terrific, for a variety of reasons. Cas’ “perma-death” and The Empty plotline was a partial Gilgamesh and Enkidu reference from The Epic of Gilgamesh for Dean’s side of the story, if you squint-- Gilgamesh’s best most perfect companion Enkidu (a wild man who was literally made by the gods specifically to be his partner in adventure, which has interesting connotations for deancas subtext in light of how heavy a hand Chuck has had in the Winchesters’ lives) dies, and Gilgamesh prays to the gods to allow him to join Enkidu in the afterlife. In season 13 we get Dean praying for Castiel’s return, as opposed to an underworld reunion, but God does not grant his prayer; Dean then actually kills himself in Advanced Thanatology but is sent back by Billie. This is a bit like the Gilgamesh and Enkidu story, but ultimately the allusion was subverted in that Castiel gets to fight his own way back to the sunlit world-- he becomes a partial underworld hero in his own right, which was a fantastic arc for him (this trip to the Empty doesn’t completely “fit the bill” because Castiel was killed, he didn’t mean to go there, and he did not necessarily have an objective, although he discovered his will to return to the sunlit lands.) There was further obfuscation because Mary was missing in the AU at the same time, so it wasn’t “pure.”

Another reason why Gilgamesh and Enkidu only worked to a certain extent was because on Castiel’s side, his “journey to the underworld” can be likened more to that of Inanna, the widely worshipped Mesopotamian goddess. Inanna desired to visit her sister Erishkegal, who was queen of the dead, but her sister was not happy to see her, and made Inanna remove an article of clothing at each of the seven gates of the underworld until she was naked (and symbolically humbled,) but nonetheless Inanna dared to sit on her sister’s throne; the seven judges of the afterlife saw this and killed her for it. Her devoted servant Ninshubur in the upper realm prayed to Enki, Inanna’s father, who created two beings who could rescue her from the underworld and bring her back to life-- however, Inanna is hounded after this by the demons of the underworld because the cosmos is unbalanced by her rescue, and someone must take her place in the underworld. Themes from this, if not a well-fitting allusion, at least crop up in both Cas’ meeting with the Empty Shadow, who humbles him over the course of their interlocution and then bizarrely gives him new clothes, hello subverted motif, while they are in a necropolis of sorts where Castiel’s brothers and sisters lay sleeping, and in the way in which Inanna can be conceptualized as a “sleeping beauty” while a corpse in the underworld, much like Cas had to be awakened from an eternal slumber, and then later on we see the theme of cosmic imbalance needing to be restored in the deal he makes with the Shadow to trade his life for Jack’s in Byzantium, which is still a swinging pendulum of doom.

I side-eyed Cas’ and Belphegor’s free-fall into Hell, but they were journeying together, and there are not a lot of mythological katabases (that I could find) that feature two or more journeyers. When you get into the realm of literature-- and we are dealing with the concept of the “written word” there are too many to deal with-- it’s almost everyone’s favorite trope, you can even argue that there is an underworld episode in Sean of the Dead-- so I’m keeping the focus narrow.

I’m also basing all of this on the pattern we’ve seen in-universe. We can see that Sam and Eileen have been heavily paralleled to Dean and Castiel in Our Father-- where Sam and Eileen have long and soulful conversations with just their eyes, Dean and Cas can hardly look at each other, and where Sam and Eileen have held hands, there was a big glowy gap between Dean’s hand and Cas’ when Cas healed Dean. So taking Sam’s underworld adventure (that he made with Eileen) as a template for Dean’s (who is going with Castiel) is fair. But, then again, the next episode is called The Trap....

Going back to what I’ve said about each “hero” in TFW getting a katabasis, setting Purgatory 2 aside as “Dean’s” descent story satisfies most of the criteria for a full-blown Descent into the Underworld: 

On Dean’s part, finding out that Chuck has been yanking them around their whole lives has robbed him of his worldview as an epic hero-- if nothing he’s ever done is real, the only thing that set him apart as exceptional was Chuck’s obsession with him, which has been called “pervy.” Pervy has a sexual connotation, true, but in the purest sense means turned away from the natural course. Dean’s descents into the underworld have not been “natural,” they have not always followed the outline of “voluntary descent, attainment of objective, and ascent out of the underworld.”  They’ve been engineered. His first encounter with the underworld almost-but-not-quite fits the catabasis requirements-- it was done only reluctantly (yes, he made the crossroads deal but in the end he very much did not want to go;) he digs his way out of the grave, which is a very powerful “ascent” image, but he also had no goal in the underworld; he was not going to receive enlightenment, visit an old pal, or retrieve an item or person or whatever. In fact, he experienced possibly his most catastrophic failure there by breaking, torturing damned souls, and starting the first Apocalypse. His second descent, into Purgatory, was also involuntary, as he was yanked into it by the vacuum created when he and Castiel ganked Dick, recognized an objective only once he was in Purgatory; in contrast to his rescue from Hell he does fight his way out of this underworld and achieves “anabasis,” or heroic ascent into the upper world, but the other two criteria were not met. After Metatron killed him, he became a demon, an underworld being, and so was not a “hero” if and when he visited Hell (and all signs indicate he spent his demon days topside iirc.) In Advanced Thanatology, he undertakes a voluntary journey into death order to stop the evil ghost in the haunted house, but ends up in Death’s Library, which is an otherworld or at least only underworld-adjacent, and he is sent back up by Billie possibly against his wishes, hence no heroic ascent, even though this does deal with the themes of cosmic balance and righting injustices (sending the trapped souls to their true afterlife, for instance, and stopping the implosion of the universe, for another.)

Finding out that some or all of the “big” events of his life were actually orchestrated by Chuck has stolen Dean’s identity. Last Call went a good way to restoring his faith in himself, but he definitely has reconceptualized Dean Winchester as someone who “looks after the little guys,” not a hero involved in epic stories of good and evil and right and wrong where the fate of the world is on the line. Which is fine, but we need our epic hero back in order to defeat Chuck. Purgatory 2, should it prove to not be another one of Chuck’s plots, will go far as an underworld descent that Dean undertakes more-or-less voluntarily, which has an objective (retrieve the Leviathan Blossom,) and it is presumed he will return under his own steam back through Michael’s Gate. (We know it will not be that easy, but that’s the template.)

We assume he’s not going alone. Catabasis usually involves a separation/individuation of some sort. In the story of Inanna, she leaves behind her companion Ninshubur, who waits in the upper realm for three days before mounting a rescue. In the stories of Odysseus and Aeneas, they leave their crew and their new city respectively, and after going to the underworld they each meet different shades who also have differing values to bring to the theme of separation. Gilgamesh and Enkidu are separated by death and deliberately kept apart by the gods. Izanagi seeks a reunion with his wife. In Orpheus and Eurydice, well, separation is the overarching theme of the story. So, other underworld stories that we might see referenced this time are the twin journeys of Odysseus and Aeneas, since we have two characters going to Purgatory. Odysseus goes to Hades’ realm, and encounters three shades, (one of whom is a fallen comrade, echoes of Benny LaFitte) and receives prophecy about what he would be in for during the rest of his travels. In the Roman sister-story (fanfic rewrite) to the Odyssey, the Aeneid, Aeneas also visits the underworld with the sybil, meets some ghosts, and receives prophecy about the future of Rome. (And BY THE WAY who in this show just appeared in an underworld and believes in prophecy and just told Dean and Cas to fix their “tiff” right before they were sent to Purgatory...) 

In Purgatory 1, separation was also a big deal, as Cas wanders off to have adventures in the woods while Dean and his underworld companion search for him, and then Cas ultimately decides to stay, making his separation from Dean almost permanent. In each of the Winchester’s deaths, we have separation of brothers. In a tiny little in-universe reference, the Winchesters found the Seal of Solomon, or the key to the AU, in an episode that featured lovers/mates separated by a rift, that had a tiny little “descent into the underworld” shot of Dean going into the RI Chapterhouse.

But interestingly, we *just* got a subverted Orpheus and Eurydice story, where all three bells were rung, and wherein in the “lovers” were allowed to remain together. Additionally, in Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven we see two entities-- Adam and Michael-- remain together after ascending from the underworld, although both are now free to go about their separate ways, which is very different from what we were expecting. BUT in the main arc, Dean and Sam have just been separated by Chuck’s trap. It’s all very... interesting.

So now I have to decide. Do I see Dean and Cas’ journey to Purgatory as a descent into the underworld, or as the retelling of an in-universe myth? Or as both? Or will it be something completely novel? That partly depends on how Purgatory works in the upcoming half of the season, and I’ll be talking about Purgatory as a possible liminal setting in another post. Right now it’s not necessarily shaping up to be one, but there are hints...

Since there is a strong possibility that this will be a retelling of old Supernatural story, much like Last Call can be seen as a retelling of Nihilism, the idea of retelling and revising stories is an even larger theme this season than last-- an “anabasis,” or rising emphasis, so much so that it has in part become text. We can say, maybe, that Purgatory 1 and all of it’s baggage is now myth, and hope that what we’re getting is “new story.” If we get Purgatory 2 as a retelling of that myth, though, we might hope for new character development or a different outcome, the way Last Call retold the story of Nihilism with different themes and devices.

My last thought about descent stories is that, well, there are more than a few that feature romantic partners. These stories almost always involve those three criteria and the theme of separation that I set up as expectations: the lovers are separated by death or abduction, the mission is undertaken voluntarily-- the hero is going to find their lover in the afterlife-- there is an objective-- find the dead person!-- and there is a successful ascent-- at least by the hero-- to the upper world. I already mentioned the stories of Izanagi and Orpheus, both of which feature lovers separated by death, a journey to the underworld in hopes of reuniting with them, and a “successful” return to the sunlit lands (in that our heroes themselves return, at least.) The Shasta people of the Pacific Northwest have a story of a pair of woodpeckers; the wife falls into their fire and dies, so her husband chases her spirit into the afterlife (where she is incarnated as a human being) and to join her he has to go back to his abode and die himself in order to be reborn also as a human. Ninshubur may have been described at times as one of Inanna’s lovers, and to a modern reader the subtext is definitely there, as it is between Gilgamesh and Enkidu. That’s not to say there are a majority of underworld stories that are romantic, because I can’t possibly read them all, but it is a notable trend, and one almost explicitly evoked in-show. I’ve tried to stay away from deancas subtext lately because I personally am not an endgame-positive viewer, but is there something romantic about Dean and Castiel going to the underworld together? There certainly seemed to be in Purgatory 1: Journey Through Purgatory. P2 following so quickly after what Sam and Eileen undertook together, it’s almost like it was foreshadowed. The deancas subtext at this point in the season isn’t “oh there was a beer sign in the background” (although that’s some of my favorite kind of subtext ngl) it’s now “Sam and Eileen have been giving each other soulful looks and holding hands while Dean and Cas won’t even look at each other and see how they almost held hands but didn’t” and so it isn’t hard to reach. It has been accessible for a while now. But are we still in a place where textually Sam is getting the “romantic” plotline and Dean is getting the “platonic” one, a la season 8? The mirroring is too perfect, and the writing room was even playing on the word “mirror” by adding the connotation of “opposite.”. I will say that If subtext is all that can be written about a deancas narrative in season 15, well, to paraphrase Dean Winchester they sure are putting as much sub into that text as they can.

So going through the midseason hiatus, I will be thinking a lot about “old” Purgatory, underworlds, borderlands, and otherlands, liminal settings and liminal experiences, the peril of the threshold (besides the infamous “letting go” scene from Purgatory 1, the gateway will only exist for twelve hours!) and who knows what else. This has gotten long enough. On to liminality! I think. No, maybe I’ll do old Purgatory first. Anyway I’m cutting this off here.

Hallelujah, holy shit, where’s the tylenol?

(I’m linking to the Shasta myth because it’s a little hard to find and I want to be able to come back to it, as it has given me some ideas about resurrection/reincarnation and becoming human….

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shasta_traditional_narratives got me to:

Voegelin, E. (1947). Three Shasta Myths, including "Orpheus". The Journal of American Folklore, 60(235), 52-58.)

#the folklore of supernatural #the mythology of supernatural #descent into the underworld #orpheus and eurydice

[doof-doofblog]

"I'm Sorry!"

Tuesday 9th June 2020

Good evening everyone! Hope you've had a good day! It's just hit me that after tonight's episode, we'll only have two episodes to view until the soap goes off air. I'm feeling a touch of sadness but I'm really hoping it won't be too long until the soap will be back on our screens. We should enjoy the last few episodes while we can! I just hope that come the last episode, it won't end on such big cliff hanger - i'll be so frustrated that I'll have to wait for such a lengthy period of time to find out the outcome! I'm sure you guys feel the same way? Let's just hope we're not waiting for months on end!

So tonight's episode was quite full packed wasn't it? I'm going to briefly start with Rainie and Max, it's really nice to see Rainie in a completely different light. I do fear that she will always been known as the terrible drug addict, and I guess there is always a possibility she could go back to her bad ways, but it's so nice to see her living a happy life. She's not interested in taking Max for his money. As she said, she has a good job and stable home as well as someone who loves her for who she is, plus she's clean, she's living her best life right now! Why would she need Max's money? She will find the money eventually for her wedding to Stuart and hopefully they'll have a happy life together. I thought it was really sweet when she said to Max that she actually wanted him to be happy to, I think that's all everyone wants. Max has had his fair share of women on the square but I believe only 2 of those women have made him genuinely happy - Tanya and Stacey! I do hope in time Max will meet someone and he'll be able to be happy, properly, once again.

So, does this mean Dotty and Peter are going to make a go of things? Even regarding that Dotty knows about Ian's secret. It's obvious that Ian is not going to approve, but in all honesty, what can he do? He can't threaten Dotty to leave his son alone, she will only threaten to reveal his secret. Ian is just going to have to suck it up and deal with it and hope to God that Dotty doesn't spill the beans. I know I've mentioned this already, but I can't help thinking about Bobby - even though he's not been seen in recent episodes, he was the one who started off having feelings for Dotty in the first place, how is he going to feel now knowing his brother has gone off with her? I didn't really know what to make of the scene where Dotty was trying to impress Peter by going for the jog ... I guess she wasn't trying to impress him, maybe just get his attention?! Again, like their flirting, I found it a bit cringe-worthy. But you know, each to their own? Do any of you guys ship Dotty and Peter? Or would you prefer to see them with other people? Perhaps you would've preferred Dotty to be with Vinny? They did start up a good, close friendship ... let me know what you guys think! Only thing now is, I have a feeling that Ian's secret isn't going to be kept secret for much longer?

Speaking of ships - does anyone else ship Billy and Karen? Poor Billy! Okay, the flour bomb was funny, but I did kinda feel that somehow, maybe he doesn't belong with the Taylor family. Mitch has done everything in his power to make him feel uncomfortable - even saying that he and Karen won't last for long and that Karen always goes running back to him. Mitch is clearly jealous! But I do feel that Billy does deserve happiness - however, what is going to happen when Honey returns? I'm assuming she will at some point, I don't think we've seen the last of her. But what is going to happen if Honey comes back and finds out that Billy has suddenly moved in with Karen? Isn't that going to break her heart? I mean, okay, Billy did cheat on her and she attempted to move on with Adam, but look how that turned out for the poor woman. She lost her self-esteem and confidence which caused her to relapse on her eating disorder, she then decided she had to leave the Square until she felt herself again, leaving poor Billy on his own. It's nice to see Billy happy with someone but I don't know whether he'll be able to commit to Karen, or whether he'll be able to feel he belongs with the Taylor family, especially with Mitch always at the sidelines, watching in on his relationship with Karen. What do you guys think? Do you think Billy and Honey will be meant to be? Or do you think he can gel well with Karen and the Taylor's and be a part of their family?! Also - yes! I am going to mention that EastEnders did make a comment about the size of Billy's manhood!!!!!! Sorry, but we don't want to know that, thank you!!!

Swiftly moving on ... I do wish that Phil and Sharon would come to some form of understanding with each other. I can understand both sides of spectrum ... Sharon made a terrible mistake of firstly, cheating on Phil, and then secondly giving up her own baby, but now she's trying to do the right thing and bring up her son with the man she loves. However, I can understand Phil's perspective aswell, he was heartbroken when he found out that Kayden wasn't his, considering he had adopted Sharon's elder son and became a father to him, to then lose him in awful circumstances, I guess he can't help but blame Sharon for Dennis's death. I do kinda think Phil is right, if she hadn't have slept with Keanu and got pregnant, none of this would've happened and Dennis would still be around now. It's clear that they do deeply still love each other, but Phil can't find it in himself to bring up another man's baby. When Ian came to collect Sharon's things, I love the way Phil put him in his place, its been obvious that Ian has been swooning over Sharon - Phil isn't stupid, he can see what he's trying to do! Hopefully Sharon will come to realise that also and will find out the truth about Dennis's death. I loved the scene between Linda and Phil, I think the words that Linda rang truth - you can't break a bond between a mother and their child, Phil and Sharon should be able to work things through because of their love for each other, if they want to be together, they should be able to be strong and make it work. However, I was surprised as Phil's revelation! So he is going to be moving into the Vic?! Is that going to be such a good idea, considering his past with the building? I mean, it was once his home also, but Sharon also lived there, could this mean they could end up fighting for the property? Or is Sharon going to remain living with Ian or will she live in the Mitchell household while Phil moves into the Vic?! I'm really eager to see what happens with that one, but I do feel we're going to have to wait a while unfortunately.

Uh-Oh! I have a bad feeling that things could be going from bad to worse for Chantelle. After asking Gray if she could use his car to do an errand for Kheerat, Gray was already annoyed that she was doing Kheerat favours, why is she still doing more? He made it perfectly clear that he didn't want her running around after him. I kinda panicked when Suki asked - wait no - told Chantelle to do those favours for her, it was just going to put her in an even worse situation with Gray. Even though I did think to myself after Chantelle missed her phone call from Gray whilst in the car, after Suki left, why didn't she just ring him back and explain? - But I know, that would've been too easy! - This is EastEnders after all and nothing is ever straight forward as that! So Gray has a tracker on his car, was he watching where Chantelle was going or had been? Then he realised it had been driven someone on a day it was supposed to be at the garage. Us viewers know that Ben used the car last week to drive himself to the job Danny and Phil were at. Gray has already asked Chantelle where she went that day and obviously, Chantelle has nothing to do with it, but Gray unfortunately doesn't believe her, he is going to be jumping to all sorts of conclusions, even possibly thinking that Chantelle is cheating on him? Is he going to become violent with her again? This is why I worry for Chantelle so much, she can't put a foot wrong otherwise Gray will hurt her, physically. The violence that he has put her through is horrific, I fear that until Gray finds out the truth about his car, he's going to become physically abusive towards her again. But even though Gray is paranoid about his wife's whereabouts, he's the one who kissed another woman - well technically she kissed him! Gray has been an absolute rock for Whitney in recent weeks as he's taken on her case. She's currently staying with them and over time, Whitney has become more and more infatuated with Gray. He's been so kind to her, saying all sorts of nice things to support her, even though - I do feel as though he was pushing and pushing her for more information when he took her back to the scene where Leo died, he kept saying "Go on! Carry on!", pushing her and forcing her to relive the moments when Leo died. I kinda found that a little hard to watch, I mean it was brilliant acting from Shona McGarty, but Whitney has already been through so much and she's told the story over and over again, why should she have to relive it? - Anyway she's become so in awe of Gray and his kindness towards her, she suddenly kissed him. Now we knew this was coming, but what does this mean now? Will Gray respond and act and perhaps have an affair with Whitney? Will Whitney be completely apologetic and try and forget the kiss happened? Will Chantelle find out?

A very interesting ending tonight that's for sure! What do you guys think? Are you guys feeling just as sad as I am that we only have two episodes left? I do have a little bit of news for you though, within the last few hours, it's been revealed that next week, Ben is going to collapse due to him battling a fever and still feeling unwell after losing his hearing completely, he will then confide in Jay and tell him the truth about his disability. Hopefully it wont be too long until the soap will be back on our screens full term, with 4 episodes being aired every week as normal! I personally can't wait for things to get back to some form of normality! Anywayz, look after yourself everyone! Keep safe and I'll be back again next week. Thanks everyone! Love you all xXx

#eastenders #dottycotton #peterbeale #ianbeale #rainiecross #maxbranning #karentaylor #billymitchell #mitchbaker #philmitchell #sharonmitchell #grayatkins #chantelleatkins #whitneydean

[post-itpenny]

No Choir

At last we reach the end. So as each title was named after the song that helped drive its respective part of the story, in this case I did make a point to really incorporate the lyrics. Tagging @clownsgobeepbeep and @grotesquegabby I hope I got everyone’s reactions correct uwu.

Honey and Brie jumped to their feet as the door opened. Confused to why only Juno had come in. Where was Magpie?

Juno stood frozen in the doorway, her face stained with tears.

“H-hey girls.” She greeted in a choked voice. “Listen, I’m going to stay here with you two for a while. I’m going to look out for you alright?”

Brie tilted her head in mild confusion, Honey already had a look of dread, something terrible had happened.

Juno cleared her throat, “let’s sit down. We need to talk.”

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

At the 90’s themed club Alexander had been reveling in the chaos of a city falling to pieces when suddenly his body shuddered, as if feeling that something terrible happened.

The answer came to him and in a rare moment the party clown gave a deep frown. He made his way behind the bar and fixed a drink, sitting down with a heavy sigh…

“Well shit.”

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

Calliope opened her eyes to a large hall made of white marble. Blackwood sitting before her in a rather ornate chair. There was something in his hands-

“Look what I got!” He cheered as he shook a jar that housed several angry lights.

Calliope looked at him in slight horror, “you put her in a pickle jar?”

Blackwood smiled, “oh yes she’s going to be quite miffed when she gets out I just know it. But she thought it was alright to screw with my family’s timelines which I just won’t stand for.”

“Blackwood that’s horrible.”

He shrugged and set down the jar as he stood up. “It seems I can borrow certain powers hence the dream visit but I just have to tell you. Did you know that our dear late Bridgette only had two surviving members of her bloodline? And only one has her gift of sight! Isn’t that just interesting? Isn’t that just neat?”

Calliope raised her eyebrows in confusion before what the elder of creation had said really sunk in.

Oh.

“She had been paying close attention to Maggie recently.” Calliope said at last, a feeling of pride swelling in her chest at the thought of how much the mischievous redhead had grown since they first met.

Blackwood smiled bitterly, “she always did like to plan for everything.”

“It was her nature.”

Blackwood scowled But said nothing. He walked across the hall towards a small pool of some sort, motioning for Calliope to follow.

Within the pool was millions of glowing particles that swirled in color. It was beautiful but within the glowing mass were three lights that seemed to move about much like koi fish in a pond.

Calliope recognized who they were instantly.

“Oh dear, poor Magpie.”

Blackwood gave a heavy sigh, “I will admit I’m rather nervous. I’ve never tried piecing someone back together from the bare component of stardust. But she’s technically not dead so it's worth a try.”

Calliope frowned, “But will it actually be her?”

“I have no idea. Her lights will secure personality… Hopefully memories as well. But I really have no clue how this will turn out… or how long it will take. But I will bring her back, I promise.”

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

Vespers was standing at the window with his head pressed against the glass. The destruction caused by Magpie’s bad luck had ceased and things had become deathly quiet save for the occasional sirens from emergency vehicles.

It had started raining. The sky pitch black between the cloud cover and darkness of the late evening. Vespers forehead has grown cold and numb but he really didn’t have the energy to move. A smell reached him, his antennae twitched.

“Hey Vesp,” Cosmos greeted in a soft voice. “Want some coffee?”

Vespers turned in surprise. “You made me coffee? B-but you hate the stuff.”

Cosmos gave a small chuckle, “Yeah can you go ahead and drink this? The smell is making me a little nauseous.”

Vespers took the cup and drained it in a few gulps. It was bitter and watery.

It was the best coffee he ever had.

Vespers cried as Cosmos held him tight.

Up in the nursery little Phoebe gave just the tiniest whine, as if sensing her both of her father’s distress.

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

Maggie would not stop crying.

Billy had done his best to comfort her but Maggie was beside herself with grief. From what he could discern Maggie blamed herself for what had happened.

Billy stepped onto the balcony for a moment to get air. Cecilio already out there, quietly contemplating things with a lit cigar, having come over to watch Amaranthus.

Speaking of, Maggie’s sobbing had echoed through the house waking up a distressed Ama.

Billy stepped back inside to find Ama and mune curled up on the couch with Maggie. Ama had climbed into her lap and was petting her head much like Maggie would have done for her. Maggie for her own part had calmed down to crying quietly. The whites of her dark eyes red and puffy, her voice horse. “It’s my fault.”

“Shh, it’s not.” Billy insisted as he sat down and pulled both of them into a hug, Mune squeezing himself in as well.

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

Honey and Brie handled the news about as well as they could in Juno’s opinion. Brie was crying, Trouble liking her face in an attempt to console her. Honey had locked herself in her room, she would not come out.

Juno had a dilemma.

There was a light on in Magpie’s bedroom. She could see in seeping out just under the doorframe.

Juno opened the door slowly, the act of doing so felt like such a violation, as if she was outright digging up a grave.

Magpie’s room was glamorous yet cozy in its soft silks and velvets that draped the bed and curtains. A vanity covered with odd bottles and trinkets along with a vase filled with dried roses. The room had a pink tinge in the soft light of a lamp that sat on a writing desk. Juno choked back a sound that was an odd mix of both a laugh and a sob. She had no idea her aunt liked the color pink.

Juno moved switch off the lamp and was surprised to find a book with Magpie’s writing that lay open.

Juno was aware her aunt like to write imaginary letters to people in her diary, this one seemed to be a similar case. She caught who it was addressed to and could not seem to stop herself from reading the rest.

My dear friend Casper,

First of all I apologize again for everything that happened. It was an accident but you did not deserve to have your life cut so short. However I knew you and the Casper I knew would be getting rather tired of constant apologies. I think for your nerves and my own sanity this will be the last.

I have come to find its rather hard to be happy the older I get. Though on the grand scheme of things, happiness is an extremely uneventful subject. They do not write stories and songs about people who sit and do nothing because they’re happy and content do they?

I am fine with this.

Though I must confess I feel selfish in the way I gather people around me as if I’m hiding from some vast and unnameable fear. But I can put down those fears and loneliness in the pleasure of company with good people.

There is a feeling within me that something terrible will happen Casper and I am frightened. But I will this down for the good people that surround me. For them I would move the stars.

Goodbye for now my dear friend.

With love, Magpie

#she’ll come back

[daresplaining]

Hello! I've seen you guys mention Mr Fear a few times and his power and dynamic with Matt sounds fascinating. Could you elaborate on it when you get a mo? From what I know I'd love to see a version of him in S4

    Ooh, yes, of course! There have been several versions of Mr. Fear, and they’ve all been nasty. (And yes, it would have been nice to get one of them in the show. I was really rooting for that.) I mostly know Mr. Fear in the context of Daredevil, which is where he/they originated, so that’s what I’ll be focusing on here, though I know at least one of them has appeared elsewhere as well. I appreciate the various Mr. Fears not just because they are terrifying antagonists, but also because of the sheer variety with which the basic premise– artificially inducing fear– has been depicted over the years. This has kept the identity fresh, and has helped them become more than just cheap knock-offs of DC’s Scarecrow.

    If you just want reading recommendations, below are all of the issues I will be covering in this post. They encompass the full range of Mr. Fear’s history in Daredevil, from 60s wackiness to 2000s noir, and I think they’re all worth reading if you’re looking for the full Mr. Fear experience.

Daredevil volume 1 #6

Daredevil volume 1 #54-55

Daredevil volume 1 #90-91

Marvel Team-Up volume 1 #92 (not digitized)

Daredevil volume 1 #222

Daredevil volume 1 #314-315 (not digitized)

Fear Itself: The Home Front #5, “A Moment with… Mr. Fear”

Daredevil volume 1 #363-367 and 371-375 

Daredevil volume 2 #95-106

    If you want plot summaries and character commentary, read on: 

      The first Mr. Fear was introduced way back in Daredevil #6, as the leader of the Fellowship of Fear (a trio that also consisted of the Ox and the Eel). This first version had the fantastically supervillain-y name of Zolton Drago, and an appropriately wacky origin story: He is a humble sculptor, dismayed by the failure of his wax museum, who makes an astonishing discovery while mixing up chemical concoctions intended to bring his wax statues to life. 

Drago: “I did discover something after all! Something I never expected! I’ve found a way to fill any foe with indescribable fear!!”

Caption: “For long weeks, the strange, haunted man worked, refining his discovery, learning all he could about the chemicals involved…”

Drago: “Perfect! Now I know that I can make all the “Fear Gas” I need! With such a discovery, I could become the most successful criminal who ever lived! […] I’ve modified an ordinary pistol to fire my new “Fear Pellets”! And now, for psychological purposes, I’ll create a costume… the perfect disguise for one who shall henceforth be known as… Mr. Fear!!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #6 by Stan Lee, Wally Wood, and Sam Rosen

    There’s a certain goofiness in most Silver Age villains– Daredevil’s, in particular– but I find Wally Wood’s depiction of Mr. Fear’s skull-and-cape look to be genuinely creepy, and his Fear Gas is no joke. When hit with it during his first encounter with the Fellowship of Fear, Matt is rendered helpless with terror, and barely escapes with his life. 

Matt: “Fumes! He fired a gas pellet at me! But, it isn’t tear gas! Nor is it poisonous! What can it be?”

Caption: “Suddenly, the sightless adventurer turns making a frantic effort to flee!”

Matt: “Both of them… about to attack me! No! Stay back! An air current! …Directly above me! That means an opening! It’s my one chance! If I can swing over in time! […] I just made it!”

    Matt manages to defeat Mr. Fear at the end of the issue by, uh… positioning himself in front of a fan (seriously). But this is only the beginning.

    Mr. Fear returns in Roy Thomas’s run, in Daredevil #54-55. This story starts with Matt faking his death to escape the consequences of a supervillain named Starr Saxon discovering his secret identity. His plan is to continue on as Daredevil and invent a new civilian persona for himself. But no sooner has he put this plan into action than Mr. Fear– who has recently been freed from prison– baits him on live television. Mr. Fear claims he can prove, without using his Fear Pellets, that Daredevil is a coward. And… he does!

Mr. Fear: “I neglected to mention my new power– to fill you with frenzied fear– with a mere gesture!”

Matt: “Tell me another one, friend! Now to– No– NO! That tingling I feel– that sudden sinking sensation! Drago was right! Suddenly, I feel– deathly afraid! Getting dizzy– just realizing how high we are–! And now– I’m falling! Nnooo!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #54 by Roy Thomas and Gene Colan

    There are several stories during this period that focus on Daredevil’s reputation being tarnished, and this is one of them. The adoring public, who was watching the fight, now think Daredevil is a wuss, and Matt fears they might be right. It’s all a bit humorously melodramatic, but what matters is that Mr. Fear seems to have become an even more serious threat, since Matt is struck by that same fear the next time he goes out as DD, when Mr. Fear isn’t even around. In the end, after a quick call (courtesy of Foggy) to the prison where Drago was being held, Matt discovers the truth: Zolton Drago is dead and the new Mr. Fear is actually Starr Saxon himself, who stole Drago’s costume and equipment after murdering him. Matt confronts him with this revelation, after which Saxon accidentally falls to his death. 

Matt: “Funny how Saxon died lunging for my billy club– the very weapon he’d been using to make me turn coward when we fought! Once Foggy called the warden, it was as simple as ABC! When Saxon briefly possessed Matt’s cane he rigged the club with these specially-timed Fear-Gas pellets… which his flying disk triggered during our first battle! It was his warped revenge on me… for ‘killing’ Matt Murdock to escape his blackmail threats! And, with that erudite explanation, I rest my case! DD, it’s been a looonng day!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #55 by Roy Thomas and Gene Colan

    (Just for the record, Matt should have known it was Saxon from the beginning, because he would have recognized his voice/scent.)

    Logic suggests this would be the end of Mr. Fear… but no! Matt and Natasha  encounter him in San Francisco, in Daredevil #90-91…

Caption: “His arm jerks out– fingers brush– and then, the Widow tumbles away, her ebon-suited body twisting– her hands flailing, legs spinning–”

Matt: “TASHA! She froze up– couldn’t make the extra effort needed to complete the swing! Something about her heartbeat– rushing, panicky! She’s terrified! I’ve got to chance it– push away from the flagpole, try to grab her before it’s– too late!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #90 by Gerry Conway and Gene Colan

    If the previous story was mostly melodrama, this one is viscerally frightening. Our heroes are struck, without warning, with bouts of overwhelming terror– a dangerous affliction for people who lead such risk-filled lives. With Mr. Fear seemingly long dead and no obvious source for these attacks, Matt and Natasha are helpless to prevent them. 

Caption: “This is how it begins: as suddenly as a rifle shot, a surge of inexplicable fear courses through Matt’s arced body– and with that fear, all thoughts of contacting a friend on the staff of the Daily Chronicle seem to dissolve into darkness– abruptly buried under a grim sensation of choking– A sensation that builds as he spins helplessly at the end of his billy club wire! Trying desperately to regain control, Matt finds himself unable to think– and becomes increasingly aware of the terror clutching at his heart– a fright unlike any he’s ever felt before– a fear without cause– a horror without reason!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #90 by Gerry Conway and Gene Colan

    Natasha is convinced the attacks are tied to a mission from her past, engineered by one of her former espionage allies. But in a surprise twist, the real culprit is a man named Larry Cranston– one of Matt’s fellow law school alumni, and one of his new law partners since moving to San Francisco. It turns out that Star Saxon was not the only person to benefit from the original Mr. Fear’s death, and with his jet pack, Cranston has been attacking Matt and Natasha from a distance.  

Cranston: “I heard a sound from the room across the hall– voices arguing. A door was open– I looked in, and saw a man called Starr Saxon shoot another man– Zolton Drago, the original Mr. Fear. Drago lived long enough to tell me where he’d hidden his costume and equipment– he thought it would buy his life– Unfortunately, it wasn’t mine to give. He died as I held him.”

Matt: “But why did you do all this, Larry? And how did you know–”

Cranston: “When Matt Murdock moved to San Francisco with Madame Natasha– and Daredevil with the Black Widow– it wasn’t hard. And– I’ve always despised you, Murdock. In school, it was always– Murdock this, Murdock that– and I tell you, I’d had ENOUGH!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #91 by Gerry Conway and Gene Colan

    Cranston isn’t the only person to notice the coincidence of Matt and DD both moving to California with Natasha– it’s actually amazing more people don’t figure out his secret identity because of this– but it is significant that he knows, since his motivations are so personal. His irrationally intense hatred of Matt, and their shared history, makes him a particularly eerie figure among the ranks of DD’s villains, and it will come back in his most horrifying appearance, in Ed Brubaker’s run (which I’ll be covering later). While he appears to fall to his death at the end of this issue (that sort of thing happened a lot in early Daredevil…), he isn’t gone yet. 

    Marvel Team-Up #92 introduces the next guy to inherit the Mr. Fear identity– Alan Fagan, Larry Cranston’s nephew. Like his predecessors, he attempts to find new, more insidious uses for the Fear Gas…

Alan: “Ha! I can’t wait to see the faces of those buffoons who said Alan Fagan would never amount to anything… They dared to laugh at me… because I kept getting thrown out of schools… wasted my father’s fortune… Well, I don’t need his money now– or their fancy schools! I’ve got something better than that now! They won’t laugh at me anymore– because I’ll make them deadly afraid of me… and I owe it all to you, Uncle Larry! You despised me– but your money and your Mr. Fear costume still fell into my hands after you died! I have the imagination to use the identity in ways neither you nor the original Mr. Fear ever dreamed of! My genius requires a large-scale reign of terror– and this radioactive isotope I stole tonight will bring it about!”

Marvel Team-Up vol. 1 #92 by Steven Grant, Carmine Infantino, and Carl Gafford

    (Larry is around Matt’s age. Don’t ask me why his nephew looks so old.)

    Alan is a little too cartoony in this issue to seem like a serious threat, but he is still dangerous. 

Peter: “H-how… did you d-do this to m-me?”

Alan: “My Fear Potion, insect– injected through this ring when I hit you! I usually administer it as a gas, in dilute form– but a man of your power required a full-strength dose! You are mine, Spider-Man, body and soul– and we are going to conduct a little experiment! I am curious as to just how many injections of pure Fear Potion you can receive… before you die– of fear!”

    Fortunately, Spider-Man and Hawkeye are able to take him out and send him to prison, but even that is not the end… 

    Daredevil volume 1#222, one of my favorite issues in Denny O’Neil’s run, opens with this chilling scene, during Glorianna O’Breen’s return flight from Ireland to the U.S.: 

Caption: “This is Aer Lingus flight number 2241, originating at Dublin and bound for Kennedy. It will never arrive.”

Hijacker: “Stewardess– tell the pilot to put this crate down at the Tinkerville airport.”

Glori: “A man… with a wee plastic gun– the kind that the detectors don’t detect. A man of violence… bloodshed… the things I’ve seen so much of at home. Is there no escapin’ them, then? No!”

Caption: “Sudden, shattering the near-silence of the cabin– the shot sends a bullet into an unexpected target…”

Hijacker: “Aiiieeeee!”

Glori: “Funny odor… gas… Noooooo”

Pilot: “[…] You guys smell something?”

Daredevil vol. 1 #222 by Denny O’Neil, David Mazzucchelli, and Ken Feduniewicz

    Matt, Foggy, and Becky receive news that Glori’s plane has crashed in a New Jersey swamp, and Matt and Foggy rush to the scene, fearing the worst. 

Cop: “…Sorry I can’t tell you more, Mr. Murdock. But your friend Ms. O’Breen isn’t here.”

Matt: “Are you absolutely sure, Officer?”

Cop: “’Fraid so, sir. There were only fifty passengers on the plane– and we’ve accounted for everyone except Ms. O’Breen and two others– a Dr. Sadd and a local man named Julius Mudd. What I figure happened is, they were… well, their bodies were thrown clear. We’ll find ‘em when the rain stops.”

Matt (Caption): “Bodies… death– Another woman dead? Like Elektra? Like Heather? Another of my women dead?”

    Refusing to believe that Glori was killed in the crash, Matt changes into his DD suit and sets out into the swamp to find her. Partway into his hunt, he runs into Natasha, who is searching for one of the other missing passengers– Dr. Ephesus Sadd, who acquired and subsequently improved a sample of the Fear Gas for use in chemical warfare. One of the great strengths of this story is the fact that the antagonist remains off-panel for significant chunks of the issue. Matt himself is not under attack, and so we, just like him, are left fearing for Glori’s safety as he and Natasha race to her rescue.

    Meanwhile, Glori and Dr. Sadd are living through a nightmare. They have been kidnapped by the hijacker and his associates. It turns out that he was hired to assassinate Sadd and now– having seen his worth, but unaware of why he’s so valuable– he’s decided to hold him ransom instead. As the hijacker attempts to give Glori to his brother as a wife, Sadd decides to use his secret cargo to escape. 

Dr. Sadd: “Before the ceremony begins, I would like to deliver a… a sermon! Yes, a sermon. Always at weddings there is sermonizing. My topic will be fear. It is a subject dear to me– a subject I have studied… a subject I cherish like a child. I have seen fear drive men to splendid achievements and crush them like insects… It is the force which lifted mankind from the primeval ooze and which keeps us from being as angels–”

Hijacker: “Git on with the wedding.”

Dr. Sadd: “Yes, the wedding. I have brought a gift–!”

Glori: “No! Don’t do it!”

    When Matt and Natasha arrive, they encounter a horrific scene: Glori and her kidnappers, driven into a violent frenzy by fear. 

Matt: “–Glorianna! Glori… are you all right?”

Glori: “No… no… no no NONONONO”

Matt: “[…] I was expecting to find people whimpering in terror… which is what the original Mr. Fear’s gas caused.”

Natasha: “Obviously, Dr. Sadd changed the formula. Glorianna and the others are reacting like cornered rats.”

    The creepy conclusion of the issue is two-fold: It reveals a second version of the Fear Gas– one that drives people to lash out in fear, rather than being subdued by it. And it ends with Dr. Sadd dying of fear, despite the revelation that his canister of Fear Gas was empty– thus showing just how powerful terror, as a mere concept, can be. This is an issue in which Mr. Fear isn’t even present but is nevertheless still profoundly dangerous, and that sums up why he is such a good antagonist. Way back in Daredevil #6, Stan Lee commented that Mr. Fear shared certain similarities with the Purple Man, who had just been introduced two issues before, but these later stories are where those similarities really start to appear. Mr. Fear and the Purple Man are effective villains for similar reasons: they are both immensely powerful, manipulate basic facets of human nature, and can strike from a distance (or without even being directly involved at all!) with unpredictable and deadly consequences. 

    If this wasn’t creepy enough, Chichester goes full-on macabre with his Mr. Fear-centered story in Daredevil volume 1 #314-315 (not digitized yet– come on, Marvel!), in which he introduces another variation on Mr. Fear. This version is Alan Fagan’s daughter, Ariel, who uses the code name Shock, and who is both tragic and terrifying. While I’m generally not a fan of Scott McDaniel’s art style, it works to great effect here to depict the twisted gruesomeness of Shock’s physical appearance. 

Matt: “All I have to go by is the sudden shift in the crude patterns my radar blocks out for me– only a hint as to the radical transformation that has seemingly occurred. Perceptions become clouded in the sudden wave of warm gases that wrap around me, raising the hairs on the backs of my arms. I’m still trying to make sense out of the sensations, trying to form a mental picture of what I’m dealing with, when the gases turn suddenly cold– and unease becomes an uncontrollable rage. Intellect knows better, but emotion overrides. Guttural sounds crawl up out of both our throats as we throw ourselves together– a railing grapple empty of technique and filled with a purpose no higher than to tear each other apart. In my head, I know we’re stories above the hard city streets. In my heart, I just want her dead before we hit.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #314 by D.G. Chichester, Scott McDaniel, and Christie Scheele

    I think I’ve said it before, but I can’t say it enough– I love Chichester’s writing. What a way to end an issue!

    Shock is yet another reinvention of the concept of Mr. Fear; her powers come from her body itself. She arranges for her father to be attacked in prison. His attackers cut the skin off his face(!), which Shock then uses to brew a concoction that when ingested, causes her to undergo a grotesque physical transformation and gives her the ability to literally exhale Fear Gas. (The idea is that her father’s skin absorbed traces of the gas, which could then be distilled). She uses these powers to cause mass hysteria by making people hallucinate things that anger and disgust them. Those in her sway turn primal and bloodthirsty. Matt’s battles with her turn into attempts to keep crowds of random civilians from killing each other. 

    Shock is also more sympathetic than any of the other Fear-styled characters. We learn that her father was neglectful, and she has been left alone to care for her ill mother. Her decision to take over her father’s identity comes from a desire to both overshadow his legacy, and to make money to pay for her mother’s treatments. 

Shock: “That’s better. That’s steady… Oh, I worry so, Mommy! I’ve always worried! […] Keep going, that’s it, you’re doing fine…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #315 by D.G. Chichester, Scott McDaniel, and Christie Scheele

    Matt subdues Shock by taking her by surprise, and tries to ensure that both she and her mother receive the help they need. He hopes this is the end of his Mr. Fear problem at last, but he is wrong. Sadly, Shock doesn’t appear again (I really like her), but her father recovers from his face-stripping and much later resumes the Mr. Fear identity– notably, just in time to provide this funny interlude during Marvel’s “Fear Itself” event: 

Alan: “This is just terribly, terribly wrong. I mean, really– I’m Mr. Fear… but it’s not me making everybody queasy. Used to be I’d be the one dragging everybody’s deepest fears out of their closets, for all the world to see. Now the bar’s been raised– or is it lowered? Whatever. With everybody running around in a state of anxiety, nobody gives a damn about a guy named Mr. Fear. Yesterday, some loser stops me in front of Penn Station, gets in my face… yells, ‘Hey– Doctor Doom!’ Doctor Doom, for god’s sake. I mean, really– can you believe this?”

Fear Itself: The Home Front #5, “A Moment with… Mr. Fear” by Howard Chaykin and Edgar Delgado

    In an overarching plot that starts toward the end of  Karl Kesel’s run and extends all the way through Joe Kelly’s, Larry Cranston returns, miraculously alive and working as a law professor at Columbia University. (If anyone has started to get their Mr. Fears mixed up, Cranston is the one who attended law school with Matt and knows his secret identity.) He is more dangerous than ever, and works from the shadows to avoid detection. Armed with an extra potent version of the Fear Gas, Cranston enslaves people to do his bidding, sending his agents into Matt’s life to create chaos by infecting others with the gas. These victims are helpless to fight back, and Cranston seems to be able to engineer how they react. When convenient, they lash out with violence, becoming dangerous to everyone around them– while others are rendered obedient and docile by fear. 

Matt: “Vinnie’s heartbeat is erratic, and his sweat carries a trace of ammonia… His body is rejecting something through the skin… the remnants of Fear Gas… Have to get through to him somehow…”

Matt: “…Vinnie, I’m here to help you. Vinnie… your wife and daughter miss you.”

Vinnie: “M-my wife? I– I don’t have a family. I can’t have a family… I don’t deserve one… *Gasp* Oh god. A-all I have… m-means nothing… nothing but the truth… yes… yes… I’ll be good…”

Matt: “(His voice… so distant… almost as if he’s not speaking to me… His pulse just sped up… shallow breathing… Could he be hallucinating?) They miss you, Vinnie. They want you to come home.”

Vinnie: “[…] Fear controls everything. Knows everything. Hears everything. Fear is God. I serve him… forever…”

Daredevil vol. 1 #366 by Joe Kelly, Gene Colan, and Christie Scheele

    As Matt continues, barely, to fight back, Cranston increases his efforts to tear him down, concluding with sending a serial killer cop into his life and then framing Karen Page for his (the cop’s) murder. Karen is put on trial, and Cranston gleefully sabotages the proceedings from behind the scenes. Besieged on both sides of his life by someone who seems like an all-powerful force, Matt nearly gives in to despair.   

Cranston: “How hang the scales of justice, Counselor? The blind lady treats her consort well, I pray.”

Matt: “(Kill him. No. Make him talk.) Why? Why Karen? Why us?”

Cranston: “Come now, Murdock… what good is a nom de guerre if I don’t back it up from time to time… I want you to lose your faith in everything. Your woman. Yourself. The system of justice you so carelessly flaunt when it suits you… because once you strip a man of his faith… all that’s left is fear. That… and an ex-junkie whore girlfriend in jail. Oh, I’m sorry… did that last part slip out?”

Daredevil vol. 1 #375 by Joe Kelly, Chris Claremont, Ariel Olivetti, Christie Scheele, et al.

    Even when Matt finally manages to track down evidence against Cranston that he can use to prove his guilt and Karen’s innocence, he still nearly loses, because Cranston has a member of the jury under his sway. This juror nearly succeeds in releasing Fear Gas to impact the verdict, when he is stopped by– of all people– the Kingpin. 

Matt: “What do you want, Fisk?”

Fisk: “Tut tut… such venom… towards a friend helping a friend. A present. The ghoul used hypnosis so you couldn’t smell the gas. Clever… but he should have chosen a juror with a stronger heart. He’ll live, don’t worry. Just with a pacemaker.”

Matt: “You– why? Why?”

Fisk: “Simple. Someone was playing in my sandbox… and no one gets to break you but me. Congratulations, Counselor. You won your woman’s freedom. With a little help from a friend. I trust you will remember the favor… when I return.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #375 by Joe Kelly, Chris Claremont, Ariel Olivetti, Christie Scheele, et al.

    (D’aww…)

    It’s a shaky victory, but it lasts all the way until the end of volume 2– when Ed Brubaker gives us the most upsetting Mr. Fear story to date in #95-106. 

    The setup for this story is similar to that of its predecessor: Matt’s life starts falling into chaos for reasons that aren’t initially clear. His law partner, Becky Blake, is urged by an old friend to help Melvin Potter (the Gladiator), who is accused of killing people while in prison. Matt and Foggy agree to help, since they have a long-standing relationship with Melvin and suspect foul play. But then, Melvin is sprung from prison and goes on a rampage, before nearly killing Milla Donovan (Matt’s wife) and then trying to commit suicide. This coincides with an increase in violent crimes throughout Hell’s Kitchen. Becky’s friend kills himself under mysterious circumstances. Matt knows someone has engineered all of this, but has no idea who.

Cranston: “Hello, Matt… I thought it was time I said hi. You can hear me… right?”

Matt: “What? Who is this?”

Cranston: “Heh, little joke. I know you can hear me, Matt. But I can’t hear you. And don’t bother trying to recognize my voice… even your ears couldn’t get past this voice-scrambler.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #97 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, and Matt Hollingsworth

    Before too long, he learns the truth– Larry Cranston is back, and is more powerful than ever. With an array of underlings from all walks of life at his command and a new arsenal of fear-inducing chemicals (including a new drug he is distributing on the streets), he appears capable of just about anything. He singlehandedly throws Matt’s life, and Hell’s Kitchen’s criminal underworld, into chaos. 

Cranston: “It was so simple, I can’t believe I didn’t discover it myself… the myriad ways in which fear affects the human brain. But it took Professor Dante Govich only minutes to realize the full potential of the drugs from my arsenal. His experiments– once he came under my persuasion– once he looked at me with fear and awe– made all this possible. Dante understood the links between fear and love… the synaptic paths from desire to paranoia to insanity. Under my thumb, he created new drugs beyond anything I could have dreamed of.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #102 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, and Matt Hollingsworth

    The whole time Matt remains one step behind, and has barely figured out who his enemy is before he gets doused with one of the new versions of the Fear Gas. As a celebration of the hundredth issue of the volume, #100 features a visually stunning and thematically disturbing sequence of Matt tearing his way through the city streets, hallucinating enemies all around while still helpless to attacks from Mr. Fear’s minions. 

Matt: “Your lies… mean nothing! You hear me, Fisk?! You hear me?!”

Cop: “… Heh heh… heh… Why do you keep… henh… calling me… Fisk? …Please… just stop hitting me…”

Matt: “Oh, God… No.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #100 by Ed Brubaker, Marko Djurdjevic, Michael Lark, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

    But Cranston’s most disturbing attack is inflicted upon Milla, Matt’s wife. Without Matt’s knowledge, she is dosed with a concoction that amps up her emotions and makes her violent when angry. Her new condition is the final blow to Matt’s mental state, as she risks jail time for accidentally killing someone. Cranston baits Matt by engineering her release, then– the moment Matt starts to experience some hope– has one of his minions sabotage her into committing another violent act, which gets her locked away for good. 

Matt: “Milla, what have you done? What have they done to you? Milla, I can hear your heartbeat… your breathing… It’s me, baby… calm down… It’s Matt… I’m here.”

Milla: “But… I don’t understand… I don’t… I don’t know… I don’t know what happened…”

Matt: “I know. I know you don’t. It’s not your fault.”

Matt (caption): “I hold her tight, but she’s already gone. I can hear the sirens approaching from three blocks away. An ambulance and three police cruisers. They’ll be here soon… to take her away again.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #104 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

    Brubaker’s run is the darkest, most brutal Daredevil run to date, and this story plays a major part in that. As his failures pile up, Matt grows more and more desperate, more and more willing to cross lines he might not have crossed before. After beating and torturing Cranston’s whereabouts from one of his pawns, Matt hunts him down, ready to wrest the Fear Gas antidote from him any way he can… at which point Cranston deals the final blow to Matt’s psyche. 

Cranston: “There is no cure, Matt. That’s why I had to kill Dante Govich… He was my chemist… Can’t believe that didn’t occur to you, Mr. Valedictorian. So go ahead, hit me some more. It means nothing… Everything you do means nothing.”

Matt: “No…”

Cranston: “’Cause I beat you weeks ago… you just didn’t know it.”

Daredevil vol. 2  #105 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, Stefano Gaudiano, Matt Hollingsworth, et al.

    This story is heartbreaking on every level. Matt goes through all of that, and achieves nothing. He loses. Cranston gets the last laugh. It’s also not a major supervillain victory. It’s not like Cranston was trying to take over the world, or anything. His motivations are personal and frivolous, and that somehow makes it worse. He just tears Matt’s life to pieces because he wants to, because he can, and because Matt is powerless to stop him, and then gets a little chuckle about it afterward. Of course, the real victim of this story is Milla, who is still, to this day, locked up in a psychiatric hospital– a heartbreaking (and, frankly, criminal) fate for such a fantastic character. This is also the last Matt has seen of Larry Cranston. He hasn’t had chance to retaliate, and in my opinion, this victory alone would cement Mr. Fear as one of the most dangerous Daredevil antagonists. The fact that the various Mr. Fears have been at the center of 55 years-worth of genuinely disturbing stories just further backs this up. 

#soulfireinc #Mr. Fear #Zolton Drago #Starr Saxon #Larry Cranston #Alan Fagan #Shock #Adventures in Continuity #Recommendations list #Asks

[trespeak]

What's your favorite house album?

Wow, that’s a toughie. Might just have to give you a list instead.

This ended up being pretty long so I’ve put all the big descriptions I wrote for each of ‘em under the cut, but here’s the gist:

Daft Punk, Discovery (2001)

Kaskade, Fire and Ice (2011)

deadmau5, For Lack of a Better Name (2009) and 4x4=12 (2010)

Phantoms, Phantoms (2017)

Justice, † (2007) 

Lazy Rich’s singles

Porter Robinson/Virtual Self – Spitfire (2011) and Virtual Self (2017)

I like a lot of deep house and electro house, so most of my picks here are within either or both of those subgenres (as well as progressive house, in deadmau5′s case).

For more of my thoughts (and there are many!), see below.

Daft Punk, Discovery (2001)

Accept no substitutes. For Guy-Manuel de Homem Christo and Thomas Bangalter, making quality tunes seems to just be second nature. Their second album replaces the underground, city-street feel of Homework with a shiny, discotheque-ready sound that stands on the shoulders of giants but does so as a means of updating and widening the reach of their own influences (with “Harder Better Faster Stronger”’s use of “Cola Bottle Baby” as a perfect example thereof). My favorite track on the record, “Digital Love,” perhaps only barely qualifies as house, but between the earnestness of the vocoded lyrics and the heart-stopper of a guitar solo, I don’t even mind – who cares about genre conventions when you’re a smitten robot? It’s utterly brilliant and its era exists as the gold standard for many DP fans, myself included among them.

Kaskade, Fire and Ice (2011)

Ryan Raddon’s seventh album and the one I hold the most nostalgia for. An ambitious effort on Kaskade’s part, Fire and Ice is a double album, with original tracks on one side and remixed, chilled-out versions of the same songs on the other (geddit?). The ICE mixes are something of a mixed bag, with some having more reason to exist than others, but the Fire side of the album earns it a place here on its own, with Skrillex and Raddon giving us their own brilliant take on a classic track from Guy Manuel de Homem Christo on “Lick It,” as well as the smooth vibes of Ryan’s collaboration with his band Late Night Alumni and Inpetto on “How Long.” Another standout track: “ICE,” a big, bumping jam Ryan made with Dan Black and Dada Life.

deadmau5, For Lack of a Better Name (2009) and 4x4=12 (2010)

Oh, Joel. These days he’s earned a controversial status as full-time internet troll alongside his career as a musician, but he’s still had a palpable impact on the industry at large (pop juggernaut Marshmello more or less owes his entire career to the allure of the man in the cute mask, and while Daft Punk did it first, Mello’s own interpretation is particularly and explicitly influenced by the way deadmau5 did it). These two albums dropped when I was twelve/thirteen and still opening my eyes to the wide world of electronica, and I think they’re particularly significant as the point where I went from being a casual fan of it to a devotee, sparking an investment in the Scene® that I still have to this day. The degree of control Joel flexes over his work at its peak was unprecedented for the time and still holds up now – “Strobe,” the album closer on For Lack Of, is particularly notable in how it makes ten minutes feel like no time at all in how it builds and shifts with just a few simple, powerful elements in play at a time. “Ghosts ‘n Stuff” earned Joel and vocalist Rob Swire a crossover hit, and “Raise Your Weapon” stands as an early illustration of what the North American take on dubstep would sound like in the years to come. 

Phantoms, Phantoms (2017)

Kyle Kaplan and Vinnie Pergola’s debut record is a clever mission statement for their work. Their deep house tunes are infused with pop sensibilities, placing them in company with contemporaries like Jamie xx and Disclosure as house DJs making an effort to bridge the gap between the radio airwaves and the dance floor. My favorites include “Just a Feeling” with Verite, a modody track called “Downtown,” and the utterly brilliant “Need You Closer,” a collab with Hayley Kiyoko that easily converted me into the Church of Lesbian Jesus. (Their recent work is also worth a nod as well – they’ve been building up singles to drum up interest in a new EP, including one of their best tracks to date, a driving progressive house tune called “Designs for You.”)

Justice, † (2007)

Gaspard Auge and Xavier de Rosnay’s debut record remains their best. There’s so many iconic tracks on this one: The slick vibes of “Genesis” and “Newjack,” the ever crowd-pleasing “D.A.N.C.E.,” the pumping “Phantom” and its sequel, the nu-disco sleaze of “DVNO”, and the ear-splitting delight of “Waters of Nazareth.” The record earned them a positive, if daunting, comparison to fellow French house pioneers Daft Punk, and while their work on it shares an obsession with taking diverse samples and reconfiguring them into their own image, Justice’s fascination with the macabre aesthetic of 70′s horror films and the rock ‘n roll ethos of T. Rex earned them a distinct spot in the pantheon of electronic acts with this record (as well as its followup, the different-but-still-great Audio, Video, Disco).

Feed Me - Feed Me’s Big Adventure (2011) and Calamari Tuesday (2013)

Jon Gooch was one of the earliest musicians to emerge under deadmau5′s mau5trap label, and still shines as one of its leading acts today (High Street Creeps, released earlier this year, has jams for days). While he started his career making drum ‘n bass tracks as Spor, the bulk of his work since 2009 has been under the Feed Me alias, where he’s dabbled in all manner of electronic but mostly hews close to the realm of electro house. Gooch’s experience in making complex tunes meant that Feed Me came out swinging, with tracks like “Grand Theft Ecstasy” and “Muscle Rollers” exhibiting a confidence and technical skill from the outset that most producers would kill for on their first record. By the time his first proper full length released two years later, he’d developed a consistent feel that made collaborations with indie bands (”Love Is All I Got,” with Crystal Fighters) and soulful singers (”Last Requests,” with Jenna G) feel as natural as hard-hitting bangers (”No Grip” and “Death by Robot”). Mix in a little bit of both and you get “Ophelia,” a anthemic ballad made with YADi – my favorite song from the record, and a earworm that still sticks with me six years on. Love, don’t let me drown…

and some honorable mentions!

Lazy Rich’s singles! Richard Billis is a Canadian DJ who retired from producing tunes in 2017, but for the decade or so he was releasing music, the electro house singles he released were nothing short of iconic. Songs like “Blast Off” (with Hirshee and Lizzie Curious) and “Flash” (with Hot Mouth) are energetic, breezy and danceable. There’s nothing quite like a good Lazy Rich drop; his beats hit the dance floor with the weight of a truck, and have a sonic diversity among them that would predict the electronic scene’s shift toward the dynamism of future bass. It makes me sad that we won’t get any more of them, but Billis left behind such an evergreen catalog of singles that it’s hard to be down for very long. (I used to use his remix of Zedd’s “Stars Come Out” as a theme song of sorts on an old website where you could be a DJ with your friends. The fond memories are strong with this one.)

Porter Robinson/Virtual Self – Spitfire (2011) and Virtual Self (2017) – Leave it to Porter Robinson to carve out a completely separate musical persona just to hearken back to his halcyon days as a young producer. My initial introduction to him was just after he’d emerged from the hands-up scene, while he had his eyes set on stardom through what he called “complextro,” and it was surprising to find that his work not only lived up to its genre classification but actively carved out a market for its sound, even before Porter had dropped an album. If the dubstep and house feel of Spitfire was a revelation, the DDR vibes of the Virtual Self EP are a revitalization; similar in ethos, but with an owned, Serial Experiments Lain-styled technological aesthetic. Porter does a lot of work to keep the two projects separate (even going as far as to delineate live shows between the aliases), but rather than fragmenting his work the distinction only ends up strengthening his catalog, in much the same way Jon Gooch’s work as Feed Me complements his earlier collection as Spor.

JOYRYDE’s singles and upcoming album - John Ford Jr. is an English DJ who knows what he likes: fast cars, bumping house beats, mean-muggin’ rap jams, and making tunes that blend all of the above in one way or another. His JOYRYDE project is only a few years old, emerging in 2016, but it’s very much the culmination of years of diggin’ in the crates and building a sound that blends the hip-hop influences of trap with the boogie-bounce sensibility of house. No sooner is this evident than the “parental discretion is advised” warning (and subsequent punchy opening bars) that welcomes you into “HOT DRUM,” though his other tracks (including “MAXIMUM KING” and the Rick Ross-assisted “WINDOWS”) share that kinetic energy. He’s one to watch!

Also worth your time:

Oliver’s Mechanical EP and their album Full Circle

Mord Fustang’s All Eyes On… compilations

Botnek’s singles from 2016 onward

Chris Lake’s releases with his label Black Book Records

Self Help by Walker and Royce

pretty much everything by Ellie Herring and Chrissy (Murderbot)

Fantasmas by Zavala

anything Wolfgang Gartner has made (particularly his early 2010s singles)

That’s all I got for now. If you made it this far, you’re an angel. Thanks for indulging me :)

#Anonymous #treman's world #this post took a long time and I lost it once (almost twice) #i love... house music #askhole answers

[notsoupsidedown]

Smartass (part 6)

Authors Notes: Sorry, it’s been a long time since I have written. I haven’t really had any free time at all. I started a big girl job and it’s been eating up all my time. I recently wanted to jump back into this story.

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word count: 1036

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Warning: swearing, abuse

You sat down in first period and looked up at Billy and he just smiled. He knew what he was doing and you weren’t sure if the feeling you had started to gain for him were mutual. When the bell rang the teacher had you work on your group projects. You asked if the two of you could go to the courtyard and read because you liked to read and discuss the book and project out loud. The teacher kindly lets the two of you go. You sat under a tree looked a Billy and he was already looking at you. You spoke softly

“Do you want to read or me”

“You can”

“Billy I’m really beginning to think you can’t read”

“No, I can read. I like to listen to your voice, sunshine”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say, Hargrove” you said with a light laugh and picked up right where you left off “I fear, too early, for my mind misgives. Some consequence yet hanging in the stars. Shall bitterly begin his fearful date. With this night’s revels, and expire the term. Of a despised life, clos’d in my breast, By some vile forfeit of untimely death. But He that hath the steerage of my course. Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen…” You continued but could feel the heat from Billy’s eyes, you looked up but only for a moment, Billy turned his gaze in the opposite direction. You just smiled and continued to read. When you came to a stop Billy  spoke

“I think I could listen to you all day”

“I think you could stare at me all day too Hargrove” You saw a look of surprise on his face and his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“I don’t know what you are talking about”

“Yeah, yeah” you said very sarcastically

“I think we should head back to class the bell rings in a few” you guys stood up and started back to class

“Do you want to meet during lunch or” you were cut off immediately

“Of course sunshine, meet me in the gym?”

“That works for me”

you guys entered the class and the bell rang you grabbed your stuff and walked out you couldn’t stop thinking about Billy. It was now 4th period and that met it was gym time. The girls went out and ran the track during gym but only for about 15 minutes, you went to the locker room to change and you overheard some girls talking about you and Billy. “I heard that she threw herself at him at that party, they had sex and everything and now she won't leave him alone” “what a shame he probably only slept with her out of pity” You slammed your locker shut and walked out of the locker room with your head hung low. You sat at the top of the bleachers and started to read. You looked up and saw Billy slam Steve to the ground while playing basketball with one hand. When Steve got up he was visibly hurt he went and sat down, you picked up your stuff and went and sat next to Steve.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve said harshly

“what is your problem?”

“Your fucking boyfriend or whatever he is has some sort of vendetta against me”

“Whoa, he isn’t my boyfriend, and I can talk to him if you want”

“I don’t need any help from you”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means how could you become close with the one person who hates me the most, you’re one of my best friends, and your going around sleeping with Hargrove” Steve shout and at this point, all eyes were on the two of you.

“You know what Steve fuck you, you don’t know what you're talking about” you say as tears are coming to your eyes you ran out of the gym. You could hear footsteps run towards you from behind. You thought it was Steve running after you to apologize but you were surprised to hear one word.

“Sunshine, wait up”

You just kept running, you ran around the corner and slid down the brick wall right outside of the school entrance. You put your head in between your knees and lightly cried. You felt a person slid down the wall next to you and rubs circles on your back. You were so frustrated with people at school why the fuck do they care about your and Billy’s relationship so much.

“You want to talk about it?” Billy asked

“not really” you looked up and came face to face with a shirtless Billy.

“okay you don’t have to” he said with a slight smile.

“Billy”

“Yeah y/n”

“What have I told you about not wearing a shirt?” you said with a laugh

“Oh shut up, I didn’t even think about a shirt, all I thought about was you, Sunshine”

“Billy, can you do me a favor, can you leave Steve alone.”

“I’ll think about it, but after that stunt in the gym, I don’t know”

“He was just upset”

“Where did he get the whole sleeping together thing, are you tell people we are.”

“No, I was going to ask you the same thing, I heard some girls talking about us in the locker room.”

“I haven’t told anybody, anything.”

There was a clearing of a throat and you looked up it was Steve holding a shirt and your bag. He tossed Billy the shirt and spoke.

“y/n I’m so sorry, I was just upset. I didn’t mean to yell that in front of everybody, even if you guys are sleeping together. Not everyone needed to hear that”

“It’s okay, but we aren’t sleeping together”

“Not yet” Billy added you snapped your head towards Billy and he just gave you a cocky grin then looked and Steve.

“Hey Steve I just want to say I’m sorry for the way I have been acting towards you and it is gonna change” Steve looked shocked and just laugh and said it was cool

You were shocked by two things Billy just said. One, he apologized to Steve and Two, He wants to sleep with you.

Tags @fangirlinganditswonders @shanetoo  @dare-to-dream-about-1d  @marvel-midtown @allieburakovsky

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery imagine