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#like there are many characters that are worse than billy

plistommy · 2 years

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there’s some serious hate towards harringrove on tiktok and it just doesn’t make sense why ppl hate billy so much but love other “bad boy” tropes, I mean henry creel is a child murderer psychopath but I don’t see people hating on his fans? the same ppl who hate on billy are the ones stanning loki and darth vader who’ve done more crimes than billy ever has so this starting to feel like a hate train tbh

I get why some might dislike Billy, but if someone literally thinks that he’s worse than Henry then jesus fucking christ. Literally he has never killed anyone or being close to how awful that man is. And if they’re gonna be dumbasses and say ”He did kill in s3”, he was literally flayed by the same exact man, HENRY aka Vecna so like??

Sure, people don’t have to like Billy. He did shitty things and even I don’t agree with some of the things he has done, but damn it’s embarrassing if they think Henry or even Brenner is better than Billy.

#They should also stop harassing Billy stans especially if they like Henry #Like don’t you feel ashamed???#So many characters has done shitty things in the show #Damn who hasn’t #(Not the kids tho LOL)#But idk man like a bully is worse than a literal killer who murders people #murders KIDS?#My goddd #ask #anon

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slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You | Part V

Part V is finally out!! I enjoyed writing this one a lot! I still have some more chapters in mind, especially for the big reveal. Not sure how many I can write out, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon. Sorry it’s a bit short this time! The next part is going to be longer. As usual, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

word count: 1836

“Don’t you know the trope of never having sex in horror films?” The other line asked you, making you laugh, “you didn’t kill me the first time, why would it be any different now?” You asked as you sat out on your front porch, taking a seat on the bench outside. “What if someone else made you star in their movie, huh? Wouldn’t you be part of their film instead,” they said as you laughed, “yeah, but then it could be some big cross over. Like alien versus predator or king kong and Godzilla, I would kinda like to see that, my two boys fighting for protecting me.” You teased as they chuckled.

“I heard you wanted both of us there tonight,” they hummed, making you smile, “so you’re the one who makes the calls?” you asked before continuing, “I want you both here…alongside a new lingerie outfit too, you boys are really racking up a total. You two should take me shopping sometime.” You suggested playfully, wishing that you could go out in public with the two. “Maybe someday,” they said, sounding a little more somber now. “Will you two ever let me know who you are?” You asked, it had been on your mind lately, but the silence gave you your answer. “I guess you still can’t trust me, huh? It’s fine, I’ll find a way to prove it to you two.” You said, hearing another phone call coming in. “I have to let you go now, one of my friends is calling, I’ll see you two tonight, right?” You questioned, “we’ll be a little later tonight but don’t worry, we’ll be there.” They promised you before hanging up. Y

ou smiled, answering the new call coming in. “Hey! Me and Stu were gonna head out for lunch soon, did you wanna join? Sid’s gonna call Billy to see if he wanted to go,” Tatum’s voice said, you debated for a moment before agreeing. “Great! Me and Stu will pick you up, we can pick up Randy too afterwards,” she said as you hummed. “Sounds good, I’ll get ready now,” You said, hanging up after saying goodbye. Your eyes lingered out into the street, you couldn’t help but feel as if there was someone watching you, wondering if your secret stalker was watching over you right now. Part of you wished they’d just come out and reveal themselves to you, pull off their mask and show you their faces. You let out a sigh, getting up from the bench and heading back inside the house to get ready.By the time Stu’s car pulled up to your driveway you were ready, hair and outfit finished along with just the right amount of makeup for you.

You could hear the music playing from outside, wondering at which point in time Stu would finally lose his hearing, you gave him another 10 good years. You texted your parents that you were going out with your group again, promising them to be home before curfew. Curfew had bummed you out recently, you made a mental note to tell your masked killers that you were mad at them for making Woodsboro go under a curfew, everything sucked now that nothing was open past 6. “Hey Macher, calm it with the stereo,” you said as Stu chuckled, “can’t help it, I like making my presence known,” he said as he turned up the music louder. You rolled your eyes, chatting with Tatum as you all headed to pick up the others.

Sid and Billy met you at the restaurant, already sitting down at a booth when you all arrived. It was about an hour later, everyone finished with their food and just spending time chatting about whatever came up. “Did you guys hear about Oliver?” Randy asked as Tatum nodded, “Dewey said it was even worse than Casey and Steve, said you couldn’t recognize him at all,” she added in as your eyebrows furrowed. “Sid said the neighbors tried getting the killer, did Dewey say anything about that?” You questioned as Tatum shook her head, “no, he said the neighbor tried to shoot at them but they missed. Said they took off into the woods,” she said, you growing worried if they had been hurt. They didn’t mention anything on the phone so you assumed they weren’t, making you relax a bit. “Maybe it was your mystery date,” Randy teased, making you glare at him, “I mean we were talking about him yesterday, maybe your boyfriend got mad about him and decided to off him as some romantic present,” he added as you laughed. “Right, cause I totally want to be an accomplice,” you joked as you rolled your eyes, but you did wonder if that was true.

Oliver had bullied others as well, so you didn’t put it past them to have also been one of his victims. Though, the thought that they did it for you made your heart beat faster. “I think you cracked the code Meeks,” Billy teased, noticing your reddening cheeks, “are you all forgetting she was almost killed by them?” Sidney brought up as Stu hummed, “well she is still alive, maybe Randy was right with them doing it to cover up their tracks,” he said as you scoffed. “Can you jackasses back off before I take my turn at you?” You said jokingly, waving the butterknife on your plate around playfully.

Later that night you sat in bed, rewatching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre on your laptop with Irena purring and fast asleep on your lap. You snacked on some popcorn as you watched the movie, looking to your side as you saw Tatum calling you. You hit pause on the movie and answered as you ate another piece of popcorn, “whats up, Tate?” You asked as she quickly spoke, “holy shit! They almost got the killer!” she yelled into the phone, making you sit up. “What?” You questioned as she laughed. “The killer! They were going after some of Oliver’s friends. They were having a celebration for him and one of the guys actually fucking stabbed them! Dewey said they were chasing them down but lost them a few moments ago, they said the police are gonna be waiting at the hospital incase anyone comes in with a stab wound,” she said, you carefully moved Irena off your lap and set your laptop on your vanity as you looked out your window. You could see the black outfit moving and struggling to climb up, “shit, that’s awesome Tate, let me know if Dewey calls you again, I’m gonna go tell my parents,” You spoke, hanging up the phone and putting it down as you pushed your window open.

“Seriously? Going after the whole fucking football team?” You asked angrily, putting your hand out to help them inside. You shut the window after they got in, seeing them collapse onto the floor. “Shit, hold on,” You said as you rushed to your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and rushing back to their side. You were about to lift up the robe before they grabbed your wrist, pushing your hand away. You felt a little hurt that they still didn’t trust you, but pointed in the direction of the restroom. “You can patch yourself up in there, my friend said the police are going to be at the hospital, you can’t go,” you said, seeing the flashing of police lights pass by outside. “Is the other one okay?” You questioned them, getting a nod as they hubbled to the bathroom. After half an hour they emerged from the bathroom, taking a seat on your desk chair. “Are you okay? Did the bleeding stop?” You fretted over them, getting a nod as they motioned you over. They grabbed your wrist, holding your hand up to their chest so you could feel their steady heartbeat. You relaxed before pushing on their chest, huffing at them. “The whole fucking football team, you’re actually fucking crazy,” you huffed out before gently rubbing where you had pushed them. “The other one, he got away okay?” You asked, smiling when you got another nod. “You can stay as long as you need tonight, the police are probably out searching for you,” you said, sighing softly as you looked to them. “Don’t think I forgot about that lingerie set either, it was pretty expensive,” you said jokingly, earning a laugh from behind their mask. “I’m gonna head to bed, I have an exam tomorrow,” you said, giving a little kiss to their mask. “If you wanna join at least take off your clothes, I won’t look, I promise. You can even blindfold me if you don’t trust me,” you offered, heading to bed. They followed after you, you laid down and closed your eyes, facing them so they could see that you weren’t looking. They began to shuffle out of the costume, going to your door and locking it before heading back to your bed. They laid down behind you, wrapping their arms around you and holding you close.

You fell asleep easily in their hold, relaxing in their arms throughout the night. A few hours later you woke up to muffled voices in the bathroom, you sat up and rubbed your eyes as you looked to see the morning sunlight lighting up your room. “I’m fine, just spent the night at her place,” you heard coming from the bathroom, your groggy mind a bit too slow to recognize they weren’t using the voice changer. You did your best to not pay attention, not wanting to betray their trust by finding out who they were too soon. You laid down again, closing your eyes when you heard the door open. You felt their hand tracing your face before they planted little kisses on your cheeks before planting a soft and loving one to your lips. They pulled away and pulled the mask on before tapping you, you pretended to stir awake, blinking up at them. “You’re leaving?” You asked as they nodded, “be safe, okay? I would rather prefer finding out who you are when you trust me and not through some Gale Weathers interview,” you said as you leaned up, planting a little kiss on their mask just like last night. “Be safe, both of you,” you said as they nodded and began to climb out your window.

An hour later Tatum came to pick you up in her little red beetle, driving both of you to class. You met up with Sid and Stu, who had his arm wrapped around Tatum. “Where’s Billy at today?” Tatum asked as Sid sighed, “said he came down with a major stomach bug. He said he was sick all night and didn’t even sleep, his dad told him to head to the doctor instead of class,” she said as you turned towards Sidney. Stu became aware of your glance at her, his eyes widening in surprise when you made eye contact with him.

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angelbarelywrites · 2 months

Text

♡ scenarios | dating billy

♡ fandoms; The Boys

♡ characters; Billy Butcher

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; he’s the bane of my existence + love of my life tbh

reader isss implied to be working with Billy and in my mind a supe but i made it ambiguous since i didn’t write a meeting section :v but i love the idea of Billy falling for a supe so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/ PDA

> he doesn’t like PDA…or at least that’s what he claims

> Frenchie and Marv give him shit- and Hughie is so supportive it makes him angrier than the others giving him shit

> but tbh they’re all happy to see him happy, and he knows that somewhere under that thick skull off his

> so when you give him a kiss or hold his hand or hug him in the base he grumbles, but he never pushes you away or actually complains

> and sometimes he’ll haphazardly pull you against him without saying a word, cheeks a bit pink as he mumbles something into your hair

> usually a ‘good job’ if it fits the occasion, otherwise a comment about how his coworkers are idiots

> now undercover, it’s a different story

> everyone is a potential threat then- and even worse, everyone is potentially going to bother you

> if he even gets a whiff of someone looking you over he’s got an arm around your waist and a hand not so subtly on his holster

> if you want to get any actual surveillance done you have to shoo him away so he doesn’t scare anyone off

> and even then he’s checking in way more often than he needs to

> it’s hard to get mad at, because it’s sweet in his stubborn, assholeish way

> and if you don’t care about surveillance it’s easy to get him riled by playing into it

> and then he’ll kiss you hard right in front of whatever chucklefuck was eying you

> “hope he’s enjoying the bleedin’ view”

> he’s a big cuddler when you’re alone- another thing he’d never admit

> but he loves when you snuggle up with your head on his chest, listening to his heart and nearly dozing while he goes through files

> or when you’re exhausted on the van ride home and make sure no one is paying attention as you hold with his hand in the front seat, rubbing his probably bloodied knuckles and pressing soft kisses them

> he likes your little late night rendezvous the best, though

> you’re both bad at sleeping, so most nights in the base he’ll find you in the kitchen near midnight brewing chai

> you’ll be sitting on the counter in one of his shirts and smile brightly despite the bags under your eyes

> and then when he comes over and puts a hand on either side of you, you trap him in your legs

> the kisses are sometimes heated, sometimes chaste

> but either way you enjoy the tea, and spend the rest of the restless night together

II. Sharing a bed

> when you’re all living in hiding, space is tight under the pawnshop

> you’ve both got shitty little twin beds, and he’s always complaining about space

> but the nights are getting cold and the heater barely works, so you hatch your evil scheme

> evil scheme might get giving it too much credit. like way too much

> all you plan on is asking to snuggle and never leaving his bed

> but he’s taking forever to get whatever he’s doing done, and you’re tired

> no biggie, you’ll just crawl in and wait for him so you can ask

> the next thing you know it’s two a.m. and he’s nudging you

> “oi. who said you could be in here?”

> you whine and give him the biggest pout, eyes all hazy from sleep

> and not wearing all that much either

> he sighs but you can hear the smile in his voice “c’mon then love.”

> before you can scooch over he’s pulling you on top of him completely, making you feel tiny on his broad chest

> he tried not to seem too delighted when you’re there again the next night

III. Let’s get kinky

> listen. i swear i don’t think every character has a daddy kink. just all the ones i’m super attached to

> but he canonically referred to himself as daddy and that’s not leaving my brain anytime soon. so.

> he refers to you as so many sweet nicknames- and he likes to pair them with a healthy mix of degradation and praise

> “you’re a filthy fuckin’ whore aren’t yah sweetheart?”

> his default is rough. he’s a frustrated man, and he’s been pent up for a while now

> but you can take it. probably.

> he likes choking. and spanking, he loves when you’re a brat and he can bend you over his knee

> mostly because then he can finger fuck you right then and there when he’s done and make you a complete mess

> if you wear makeup he thinks it’s twice as nice with your lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks

> and you look prettiest to him on your knees, already a bit teary and sucking on his fingers until you’ve earned the real thing

> he wants to breed you so bad it makes him look stupid. (tbh not literally, even if it is possible, but god the dirty talk is so good that it doesn’t matter)

> his favorite position is reverse cowgirl- he loves seeing you whine and slowly ease yourself onto him

> and to me- he’s an ass man lmao, he loves watching it as you bounce on his cock

#reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #william butcher #the boys #cw sex #cw kink

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 9 months

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I’m having a lot of thoughts about super protective Steve right now, but I’m also having a lot of writer’s block so I don’t have the energy to actually set the whole scene.

I need Billy and Steve delivering pizzas and snacks to The Party (including the Corroded Coffin guys) to wherever they’re holding their campaign. Maybe somewhere in the woods because it’s aesthetic and the weather is nice, like out by Castle Byers.

The kids are fine with Harringroveson for the most part by now, though a couple of them (namely Dustin) don’t always get along the best with Billy. He tries really hard so it’s getting better, but progress is slow. He’s still detested by the Corroded Coffin guys (namely Gareth).

I love the misunderstood character trope for some reason. I love the idea of other characters hating Billy’s image, the idea of him, but when they get to know him as more than the asshole jock they peg him as, they realize he isn’t all that bad.

Maybe Gareth makes one too many comments about not wanting Billy there. Calls him an asshole and provokes him with the intention of validating his own perception of the blond. Maybe even goes as far as to insinuate that the only reason Eddie or Steve are with him is because of his looks. Something mean that’s said in a teasing tone, but hits just as hard despite it.

Billy doesn’t react with white hot rage like everyone’s expecting. He turns away and walks through the woods back to the car with a look of shame on his face, and Steve immediately jogs to catch up with him, lacing their fingers together as they weave through the trees.

Eddie stands there anxiously, wondering if he should follow them or if it’ll overwhelm his already upset boyfriend. He turns back to the group and looks pointedly at Gareth. Not angry. Just disappointed.

Which some could argue is worse.

“C’mon, man,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely. “You couldn’t be cordial until they left? He didn’t even do anything.”

“Made ‘em leave faster, didn’t it?”

Gareth’s tone is less sure than before, because after all, he isn’t a malicious person at his core. He’s clearly at odds with himself about hurting Billy’s feelings — he didn’t even think it was something that could happen.

Eddie just shakes his head and sighs.

“Well, you’ve poked the bear, so now shit’s gonna get testy.”

“What, like—“ Gareth gulps and his eyes blow wide. “Like Hargrove’s gonna kick my ass or something?”

At the words, Eddie laughs. Crosses his arms and sobers when he hears twigs crunch in the distance, a set of footsteps approaching once again.

“Not Billy,” Eddie whispers.

As if on queue, Steve emerges from between the trees. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are squared. He gets eyes on Gareth before anything else, which has him scurrying up out of his seat on the floor. Ready to bolt.

Steve stops beside Eddie. Shrugs his hand off of his shoulder when Eddie sets it there and points an accusatory finger at Gareth. The movement makes him flinch even though he’s still a handful of feet away.

“I dunno what your fucking problem is, but you don’t say shit like that about my boyfriend when I’m around, you hear me?” Steve seethes. He eyes Gareth up and down like he’s sizing him up before he simply tsks and shakes his head. “You can find your way home in the dark for all I care, so don’t bother asking for a ride when the game’s over.”

He stares until Gareth nods, at which point some of the rage relaxes out of him. Only slightly.

Then he turns to Eddie.

“Get on the radio when you’re done?” he says much more softly. “I’m gonna go ahead and take him home.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, but you know how he is.”

Eddie nods and cracks a smile.

“Big ol’ softie.”

“Mhmm.”

Steve mirrors his expression. Leans in for a quick kiss, then casts Gareth a final glare before he takes his leave.

Once he’s gone, Eddie huffs a laugh and intertwines his fingers over the back of his head.

“Jesus. Give him a while, he’ll get over it,” he dismisses. Glances over at Gareth, who looks about as startled as a mouse that’s been dropped into a snake pit. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I dunno, you could probably speed up the process by making Billy a cake or something.” When Gareth furrows his eyebrows, Eddie shrugs and laughs again. “I’ve never pissed Steve off that bad, but I have hurt Billy’s feelings before. My boy loves him some chocolate cake.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then two.

They wind up having to wrap the game up faster than they anticipated, because the nice weather becomes a drizzle which becomes a pour.

Steve goes against his word and gives Gareth a ride home.

The next day, he’s standing on their porch with a Tupperware container full of chocolate cupcakes that say srry 4 b-ing an a-hole in blue icing on top.

Billy immediately shoves one into his mouth and Steve reluctantly forgives Gareth, meanwhile Eddie is laughing his ass off because he didn’t really expect him to take his suggestion seriously.

#harringroveson #steddilly #metalsandwich #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #Billy being soft at heart is my dearest hc #also I love the idea of Steve actually being the mean and scary one of the three of them #because he’s the least suspecting #give me more pissed Steve #drabble #my writing #rushed bc I don’t have it in me to make a whole thing out of it #so you get my unedited thoughts <3 #billy antis dni #also not a Gareth hate post I just think he’s a dick the same way Eddie’s a dick #they’re both obnoxious assholes

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rzyraffek · 7 months

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This is my first time doing an ask, but I was wondering if I could request an ftm/ftnb reader x slasher fic (any character you think would fit/any character you want to add) where the reader has trouble breathing in the winter/cold and wearing their binder just makes it worse and their whole body is sore due to going up and down stairs so much so they can't keep up with the slashers longer strides and has to run after them.

Like, if the reader and the slashers were at the zoo or somewhere outside and the reader just started to take SUPER deep breaths just to be able to breathe normally or just to get air; especially after walking up or down stairs or hills.

And at one point the reader just gets tired of having to take so many deep breaths so they just go the the bathroom and take off their and layer two jackets over their shirt since they didn't bring an extra bra.

And like about 20 minutes later, reader STILL has to take super deep breaths just to actually breathe and having to run after the slashers just to be able to walk next to them; but with how sore reader is, they can't keep up with their partner and often has to take 3-minute breaks just to be able to catch their breath.

Remember binder users! You should wear them only up to 6hours daily! Dont ruin your ribcage!! I use to wear binder so yeah, I get it.

Anyways👹ofc i will write this!

So bacially, ftm s/o struggles with breathing due to binder and weather! You didn't specified which slashers so I will just go with flow on this one!

Slashers with s/o that struggles with breathing due to binder

Micheal Myers

Don't worry dude is used to noises of people choking to death lol

But fr dude gets a bit worried? He doesn't like how sometimes s/o has to take breaks just to breathe

If you guys are in rush and s/o has to take a break dude will just "hell nah fuck this" and pick s/o up

Micheal really doesn't care about gender or sex. Your a dude? 👍. There's no need to 'prove it' or look certain way for him to belive you

Brahms Heelshire

Dude fr will set a timer on his phone so s/o won't 'overdose' binder 😭

Erm honey you are starting to hyperventilate, its time for a break dont you think?

Brahms acually did his homework and read bunch of articles about binders and now he understands way more😊👍

Darling remember to exercise before and after you wear it so it less uncomfy

Finds s/o very cute and squishes them too hard sometimes

Billy Lenz

????

The fuck?Are you suffocating or something? *judges*

What feels worse? Wearing binder a bit too tight or billy sitting on your chest while your trying to sleep?

Bro doesn't understand what is "gender dysphoria" and tired to hide s/o binder once cuz he didnt trust it

Lucky for you Billy doesn't go outside, so you don't have to worry about him getting lost walking faster than you

What are pronouns?

Jason Voorhees

Oh Jason you big baby

Jason just feels bad, cuz he knows that s/o feels less cool without the binder but baby you cant breathe😭

Of course he will wait for s/o and he won't rush them at all!

Will try to convince s/o to not wear binder so often. Jason sees you as a perfect boufriend weather you wear it or no

Genuinely worried about s/o health

Asa Emory

Ah creature, why would you think that wearing binder for whole day was a good idea?

Dude is smart, he already knew what binders are!

He is aware that trans people often struggle with dysphoria and he can't just be like "dont wear a binder lol" so he tries to calming explain that nono honey you are a man even if you don't have a flat chest i love you

If he finds out that s/o whats a top surgery, Asa went "Alr bet" and then your bank account blew up

Funfact! If s/o was openly trans before they met Asa... dude was convinced that s/o just has severe asthma 😭 he was like ??? Uh do you have your inhalator with you?? Or like is it temporary???

👽guys I ate good chicken today. With sauce

Also im not sure if its good? I kinda forgot how to write entering stuff😭😰

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #micheal myers #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #micheal myers x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #billy lenz x male reader #micheal myers x you #micheal myers headcanons #jason vorhees headcanon #jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees imagine #asa emory #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader

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ratboydefenselawyer · 2 years

Text

This is my first and probably last post I will ever make. I’m here to consume the content, not necessarily create it.

I see all of you fighting the good fight for Billy and his story. And I wanted to add my thoughts into the ring.

As someone who works with children and adults from abusive backgrounds EVERY SINGLE DAY. I can tell you that Billy checks every single box for being in his survival state 24/7.

I have had extensive trainings about trauma, how to recognize it and the effects it can have on a person and how they act. Personally I have endured a lot of trauma myself and had to unlearn a lot of unhealthy behaviors and ways of thinking because of it.

With that being said: someone who is in a state of survival constantly is not capable of thinking rationally, the only goal is to…survive.

Billy Hargrove was an abused child. A CHILD. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Does this forgive his actions? No. But it explains them. Gives us a deeper insight into the “why?”

Neil hit his son, he insulted him, called him a slur and then reminded him that Max, his younger stepsister’s well-being is in his hands. That’s a lot for a 17 year old to go through. Then he goes to the Byers residence where he’s insulted and lied to. His sister (who’s well-being is in his hands) is alone with 5 boys, one of them is his age? THEN to top it all off, Steve punches him? All that built up rage from what just happened with Neil comes spilling out. Oh and to make matters worse, he gets sedated and Max MIRRORS Neil’s abuse by making him repeat himself. Keep this in mind, while all this is going on Billy has absolutely no idea what is going on. He still doesn’t know what Max is doing with all of these boys in this house.

Moving forward- Billy gets possessed by the mind flayer, he still has no idea what is going on and loses control of his own body. He had to watch as his hands take the lives of many people to feed this creature from his worst nightmares. Then this group of children lock him in a sauna, he is FINALLY able to beg for help and sobs. Even then NOBODY tells him what’s going on, no one really makes an effort to help him. It’s only in the final episode of season 3 that El breaks through to him, she see’s his past, his mom leaving, the abuse. Even standing up to the mind flayer Billy has no idea what he’s up against, he’s still in the dark. All he knows is that it’s him or this child that showed him how to come back to himself. It’s him or Max, and as we already know Max’s well-being is in his hands. Nothing is more terrifying than Neil’s wrath. And in his dying breath he apologizes.

For my fellow Billy Stans- Please never let anyone bully you about what characters you can and can’t like. Your ability to see deeper into the characters and push past the hate is needed in this world. Not just in fiction, but in the real world. If you relate to Billy as I do, from past trauma, I am so sorry. I am so very sorry that you have to fight, explain and rationalize your love for him every time. For whatever reason you stand behind Billy Hargrove, it is valid. And unlike Billy’s story, I hope that yours doesn’t end in tragedy. My inbox is always open for those who need to talk.

Now, for the Antis- I want to say, good for you. You managed to take a broken and deeply complex character and reduce him to a heartless villain in your minds. Think what you want about him, it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is how you act to the people who do relate to Billy. The name calling, the hate, the wild assumptions about real people!! It’s so insane to me. I hope that turning into the bully to make a point was worth it. How other people relate to a character doesn’t affect you in any way at all. Somehow many of you have managed to put people down and make them afraid to express their love for a character. It’s not something to be proud of.

I am not willing to argue with anyone on this, this is just my views and my opinion. Dacre Montgomery stated that he worked hard to humanize Billy Hargrove. Seeing his character be dragged through the mud and continuously be turned into the irredeemable monster by the Duffer Brothers and the fans is just really sad.

Billy Hargrove means a lot to me. For a lot of different reasons. He deserved so much more than he was given. He deserved a chance to redeem himself and to tell his side of the story. He deserved a chance to apologize for everything he did in his survival state. He deserved the chance to finally be happy and be surrounded by people who actually cared for him, who wanted to help him.

Just keep going everyone. ❤️

#billy hargrove #billy #harringrove #billy hargrove deserved better #billy hargrove stan #billy hargrove gifs #billy hargrove is alive

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

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Dating Billy Butcher Would Include...

Request: Hello there! Can I please request some headcanons about dating Billy Butcher (The Boys), please? Thank you so much!!

Oooh yay my first the Boys request! Of course I can my sweets! Just an FYI to anyone reading that at this point in time I’m only on season one (although I managed to see some spoilers about Lenny so I thought I’d throw a bit of that in too), so sorry if this is a bit OOC!

Warning: slight NSFW, swearing. strong language, mentions of drinking, mentions of nightmares and mentions of injuries!

(I do not own The Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @supeshunter.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Billy Butcher is... well, he’s Billy Butcher, ain’t he? Even though he looks like a man with an incredibly tough exterior, and even though he’ll try his damn hardest to convince you that his interior is even worse, there’s a stubborn but beating heart in there. Lying behind all those layers of trauma, and fury; between the hurt and fear lies so much bleeding love for you that Billy Butcher has no idea how to cope with it at all.

He’s 100% the type of man to force you to wear his lovely and grimy trench coat when the two of you decide to brave out into the streets of New York. Because he’s so, so suspicious of everyone that even fringes his line of sight, he keeps his sunglasses on but shuffles off his coat as soon as you’re out the door and wraps it tight around your shoulders. He only grunts in satisfaction when you look like a dormouse peeking out from the flimsy material that smells so much of ale, ash, and a hint of amber toffee. He tucks you against his hip before he starts walking, snaking an arm underneath the side of the coat and spreading his fingers protectively over your hip as he begins spouting off about his newest reason to hate the Supes.

You spend far too much of your time standing between Billy Butcher’s knees, cradling his face between the brackets of your arms as you patch up his face after a fight. He’s a touchy - but also surprisingly sweet dumbass, and so usually just a chest-rumbling, throaty groan is the only warning you’ll have before he pulls you down. His hands position your thighs until they’re securely wrapped around his jean-clad hips, thumbs digging into your pelvis as he positions you onto his lap. Every time you try to ignore the feeling of his fingers squeezing into your skin, or the way he tries to tease you by groaning and moving up his legs until they brush more impatiently against you, he always manages to bring your attention right back to him. Even though you’re trying your best to thread a needle and stop his face from pouring scarlet all over the sofa, he keeps nipping your fingers with his teeth and chasing your hands with his lips, until eventually he grows too impatient and just straight up hitches you up. Even though you’re laughing at this point and thumping the hard back of his shoulder to try and get him to stop, you’re more than delighted when you can feel your back hit the wall and his left knee come up to keep your bottom lifted up in the air against his waistline.

‘Hey, you pull that stich on your lips, I’m going to shove the needle up your ass until it pokes out your mouth, and you can fix it then yourself.’

‘Is ‘at a threat, love, or a promise?’

Poor Hughie has to awkwardly scramble away from the two of you so often. So many times lmao the poor man. He’ll come home late after his date at the bowling alley with Annie, having been kind enough to pick up some takeout and actually get Butcher to eat something that isn’t popcorn or bagged sweets. He stops dead in his tracks and inhales sharply when he spots the broad expanse of Billy’s back pressed up against you in the living room, his hands leaving bruises against your side as he holds you up to the cracking wall. Your giggles ring out every time you feel the brush of his beard against your pulse point; every time you feel his wet tongue run out pridefully over the hickeys he’s leaving against your neck, or the surprising plushness of his lips as they map out a careful trail from the dip of your neck down towards your collar bone, grounding himself against you with each kiss. Even the sound of the door slamming and Hughie’s footsteps running away isn’t enough to shame him into stopping anytime soon.

(The beard rashes are 100% worth it - he’s so intoxicating and body worshipping its crazy.)

The two of you often go out for drinks after a long day of work at a nearby pub, and also to get a break from Frenchie and Mother Milk talking shite to each other at the safe house. It’s the happiest he can ever remember himself feeling. Although he’s not massively into public PDA, he does like to hold your hand over the table, just so he can ground himself by rubbing his thumb over his knuckles and remind himself that you’re truly alright. When he gets a little tipsier, he keeps on leaning over his bar stool and kissing your temples with a dopey, love-struck grin on his face - looking over at you from the side of his eye as if he’s still in disbelief that somehow, after everything he’s lost, he could still end up the luckiest man in the world.

You do have to stop him from snarling and nearly snapping at any person who tries to look too fervently your way though.

‘Eyes off, Sir Cuntalot.’

Billy, you can’t keep calling Hughie that, he’s your best friend. Also he just wanted to know if we wanted some nachos.’

Whenever you call him out just... cue *indistinct grumbling noises and reluctant acceptance*, because he doesn’t want to fight with you.

He wakes up a lot during the night. The man basically never slept before he met you. Although he can get to sleep - mainly through the feel of your head resting heavily on his chest, and by gazing down at you with the milky moonlight reflecting a softness that he’ll never let escape through his harsh cracks during the day, he’ll always be awake again in a couple of hours. Although he’s so gentle when he tries to roll your arm off him and back down onto the mattress, it only take a few minutes for the cold to hit and for you to wake up. When you see him sitting up on the edge of the bed, doubled over as if the world was crushing an unbearable weight upon his shoulders and head heaving in his hands, it only takes you a second to slide over to him. You wrap your arms around his chest, locking tight around his arms as you lean over his back and swing your legs to sit beside his own, knowing he’s had another nightmare about Lenny. Although he finds it hard to fully let go and just allow himself to weep out all the regret, he does finally give in to the hand that cups the side of his cheek and falls down to half-lie on your shoulder. You just stay there, soothingly stroking circles against the freckles of his back as you wait for the sniffling to slow.

If you stroll out to grab some cereal in the morning wearing one of Butcher’s Hawaiian t-shirts that he left in a heap on the bedroom floor... well, let’s just say that Mother’s Milk gets really disgruntled when Billy pounces on you and immediately tries to tear it off.

But my dude... when he looks at you... that look in his eyes. That devotion, that awe, the soft features and smile that tickles his lips. You constantly catch him leaning against the wall during meetings, looking over at you while other members of the Boys are talking, with his arms crossed over his chest and a smile bright enough to melt steel - like you’re the most important thing in the world. And to him, you are. That’s one thing he’s not afraid to admit.

But in the end, my man sees himself as just a ball of resentment and regret. He’s terrified that he’s allowed himself to so comfortably fall into this, to slip into love so easily again, because he’s a lost cause. He can’t bear to lose you too, to drag you down into the depths of hell he's so exquisitely managed to saunter into, and so he battles with his own demons every day because he knows in his gut that this is worth it. Loving you, is worth everything. You are worth fighting every bit of evil in the world for, and so he decides, after the first date, that he’s never going to give this up. The Supes will have to cut his cold, dead heart out of his chest in order to tear it away from your possession.

#the boys #billy butcher #karl urban #billy butcher imagine #the boys imagine #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher headcanons #billy butcher fluff #billy butcher angst #the boys x reader #the boys fanfic #the boys fanfiction #billy the boys #billy butcher the boys

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genderflu1dwh0r · 10 months

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Are you stupid?

You can be racist and have POC friends, Jason is way worse than Billy any day. Jason isn't the one being abused by his father everyday, he isn't poor, he didn't get taken from his home and live with a step sibling that he didn't know that well.

Jason is a horrible person and got his friend to tackle Erica, then he held a gun at Lucas. You can't tell me that that isn't racist, you can't tell me that's worse than what Billy ever did. Jason said "I thought you were one of the good ones". That. Is. Racist.

Billy got his bad traits from his father. Billy got beat by his father. Billy was crying into the phone for his mom to come home. Billy had no support system. Steve was the only person that Billy bullied and tormented, and in my opinion, Steve is a worse character than Billy.

Steve threw slurs, while Billy got slurs thrown at him by his own father. Just because you don't care about abuse victims, doesn't mean you have to spread your hate.

I think that Billy just wanted Lucas to stop hanging around because if Neil found out, Billy would be the one getting beat. Neil would probably hurt Lucas way more than Billy could have ever done. Billy was protecting Max and himself, he was scared that Neil would find out. He did care and love Max, he just showed it in some confusing ways.

Also, the Duffer brothers are racist, they wanted Dacre to say the N word. Dacre protested and it ended up not happening. Billy saying the N word isn't canon, cause it didn't happen in the show. Stop always going to that excuse for him being a bad person. He never said any slur.

People say "if the actor wasn't hot, then people wouldn't have liked him" and I disagree. His character is very interesting. He has a backstory, he has trauma, he has an actual interesting plot unlike any other character. Dacre is also a very amazing actor, he was able to make Billy even more interesting.

Dacre has said that his art imitates his life. He put his own life into the character, he didn't have a great relationship with his dad, he has said this.

Max is a horrible person too, she drugged Billy with something that she didn't know was in, almost hit him with Steve's bat, screamed at him before leaving and stealing his car. Billy could have died on the floor, he was drugged and had no car. Tell me that that isn't abuse. Just because Billy grabbed her wrist ONE time, doesn't mean it's abuse.

Siblings fight all the time, it's just what happens. Especially how their family dynamics was. I and many others have fights with our siblings. You get over it in like a day. That doesn't make Billy a bad person. He did some really shitty things, yes. But that doesn't excuse all the hate he gets. He's a complex character, no other character is like him.

That's why he's my baby boy. I relate to him, I'm an abuse victim, I love knowing that I have a character to relate to. Stop blaming abuse victims on how they grew up, they can change. He could have changed if he didn't die. He could have, but nobody let him.

Nobody tried to help him. He didn't have a support system. The people who compare Jonathan to Billy are wild, cause Jonathan did have a support system, his mother did so much. Billy had nobody. His father beat him, hi stepmother did NOTHING to stop Neil, she just watched. She was clearly abused too, but she's the adult, she has to be there for Billy. She has to get Max away from all of this, which in season 4, she did. But she turned into an even worse mom.

Right here. He was trying to get help, he was trying to get the MF to get out. He wanted someone to help him. He kept fighting, and that's how he saved everyone on the day he died. He knew he was going to die, he was sobbing.

Try to think before talking bad against Billy.

Why do people say Vecna/Henry/Jason/Troy/James/Angela are better than Billy?

Vecna/Henry literally tried to kill children and the whole world. Billy wanted to have some fun and games, he would never go to prison for killing a child. He was never going to hit Mike, Lucas, Dustin, or Will.

Troy/James made Mike jump off of a fucking cliff while wanting to take Dustins teeth out. Tell me that isn't fucked. MIKE WOULD HAVE DIED IF EL WASN'T THERE!!

Jason held a fucking gun to Lucas's head and got Erica hurt. He sent a witch-hunt over Eddie and that ended up killing that poor boy. Literally, he was poor and Jason is a rich christian white boy. Tell me that isn't classist. Jason also did this to get information out of a kid.

Angela deserved the roller skate to the face for what she did to El. I would have done the same thing, El never deserved any of what she went through there.

Anyone going to object? Cause you can't, my points are spot on. Why aren't we gonna get mad at Jamie Campbell Bower over saying he relates to Vecna/Henry? If Dacre is bad for doing so, why can't we shame Jamie for the same thing?

I would count the MF taking over Billy like that as a reference of sexual assault. His body gets taken away from him, he is crying for help, he is scared and tried to tell someone. I've talked to SA survivors and they agree.

Anyway, I am pissed at Billy antis and I am just so done with them.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #st billy #stranger things billy #dacre montgomery #neil hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #jason carver

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sharonisthebettercarter · 1 month

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billy butcher and addiction--

felt there's a need for a good and proper analysis for this fucker (as well as i can manage, maybe throw in a bit of a rant on poor fandom etiquette, 'three laws of fandom' are an oldie but a goodie lol) so here we go i guess--

i wanna start by saying this is a full scope character deep dive (sortaish?? best i can do take it or leave it--lol i might go further in depth on specific scenes or whatnot later, i'm longwinded but i'm tryin' to condense as best i can for this, aaaaaaaaaaand long long post ahead--) that def includes elements solidly confirmed in dear becky and probably leans more on comics billy overall, but def does intertwine and interlock with show billy (as they are essentially the same, garth ennis' own words went something like 'he's a perfect billy butcher' lol)

i'll try to avoid spoilers (??) for the most part like dear becky, but there are some things that may need more context (there is quite a bit of in the show that works well enough to represent anyway but i guess we'll see how this goes, i may end up talking more about the show elements and how they parallel with comics billy anyway)

i also think it's worth mentioning that there's a lot to billy (especially in the comic) i feel fandom either ignores, dismisses or doesn't want to acknowledge, or just doesn't notice.

whether from personal bias/prejudice, desire (fitting billy into that 'alpha's alpha' toxic masculinity 'dom top' fever dream 'mold' so to speak, probably--no, definitely the *worst* way to interpret and easiest way bungle up his character, it completely misses the fact that billy has built *that* 'daddy approved' version of himself as a *facade* to *hide* his own shame and insecurity, and he is *so* much more complex than that nonsense (and genuinely uncomfortable and unhappy being that way-beyond the subtle guilt of a constant high). can we talk about the ways in which fandoms promote and perpetuate toxic masculinity--what, no time we'll be here all week?? oh, okay. jesus fucking christ that is exactly as bad if not worse than the maga chud interpretation and unironic worship of homelander--), lack of personal experience/familiarity, understanding--fuck it, even lack of education in media analysis or reading comprehension (if not both), and *especially* being pro-censorship/americentric/*stuck* with purity culture blinders (or even some part of them lingering)

all of those can def make media (and characters like billy) that isn't 'cookie cutter america-approved' fairly difficult to understand or accept (i guess??)

i've seen so much listed to hell and back in attempts to describe comics billy. 'he's a piece of shit' *YES*. 'he's just wish fulfillment for the author's hatred of superheroes' *no*??? let me not get into the complete hypocrisy of someone who writes or enjoys fanfic--the epitome of *wish fulfilment*--unironically complaining about other authors doing this and thinking it's a legit complaint. how does *anyone* read the entire story and come to *that* conclusion???

did you even bother reading the comic? no, i don't mean glossing over it with a completely closed mind while actively ignoring and dismissing everything important put in front of you and designed to make you think because the blood and guts or other is too distracting apparently, i mean *actually* reading it thoroughly and making an effort to think about what's being presented and why, waiting for the drop *instead* of jumping to judge (as is the american way)

and to some degree, i get it. i wouldn't say this comic is the easiest to digest (especially if completely unfamiliar with many of the themes presented, even the show has sparked some ass takes and interpretations) there's also plenty of common misconceptions, one in particular about garth ennis 'hating' superheroes. this is actually not true, what he hates is how the superhero *genre* has bottlenecked the comics industry and what is more likely to see success in it (and as a fellow creative, i completely understand how frustrating that would be, his main interest is actually war stories)

it's def one thing to say, 'nah, i don't vibe with the style' or 'it's not really for me/my taste but it's fine if others like it', i get that, satire and horror aren't for everyone. honest critique is fair even.

but it is a whole 'nother thing entirely to pretend your own personal tastes are *the only 'correct' creative law* and then *vehemently* oppose or hate something an artist created and denounce, harass, or fuck--dehumanize the people who enjoy it, if not the artists who work(ed) on it.

i'm sorry, this is a tangent cause it's def not limited to the hate the boys comics or ennis gets *at all*, it's especially prevalent in *literal* kids media like teen titans go where the thing in question is simply put--*NOT MADE FOR THE SHITHEADS NONSTOP COMPLAINING ABOUT IT* when they can literally, *LITERALLY* just *accept* that they weren't the *target audience* and move the fuck on with their day, happy as can be. *instead* of shitting on something *or the people who like it* to make literal *children* or other people feel bad about liking it.

it's one thing to try and educate people or have discourse and discussion, it is another entirely to *bully* them over something so *stupid* as *fiction*.

i especially have a problem with this shit when i have *several* artists tell me that they don't feel *safe* or *welcome* being themselves, liking or creating what *they* want to make in a fandom *because* of the fandom attitude and normalization of *hate* within that fandom.

i *thought* fandoms were supposed to be about *love* so what the fuck is this human tribalist false dichotomy bullshit??

and of course, that's not always the case. there is also an unbelievable level of respect that is given to fanartists and fanfiction writers, and that is *beautiful*. 'don't like, don't read'. *PERFECT*. curate your own content, complain or rant in your own spaces--you're entitled to an opinion, but *accept* that it still has a right to exist and other people still have a right to love it (and aren't wrong for that, opinions cannot be objective), *even if you don't like it*. just don't engage then, it's that simple.

now extend that level of courtesy to the people, artists and writers in the industry.

no, i'm not trying to shut down criticism of media, proper critique is how we learn and grow and understand better and in turn *create* better. yes, they can fumble the fucking bag too, especially when adapting something from a source material and--like *some* fanfic writers out there--think they can do it 'way better'.

but the people in the industry? who bend over backwards, going on strike in some cases, breaking their necks to work on and create the things that we *love* and latch onto?

they're people too. and whether the thing they make goes *exactly* how we want or not, however you feel about the money in the entertainment industry (which they see barely a dime of if those fucking strikes and constant mistreatment are any indication), they don't deserve to be treated like scabs.

that mentality of 'not my personal taste = universally bad' and 'anyone who disagrees with my opinion is wrong' is fucking gross and *extremely elitist*, just straight up announcing how pretentious, obtuse, willfully arrogant and ignorant, and *lacking in self awareness*--the number one easiest way to be the *shittiest* kind of artist/writer/critic--you are. it is *exactly* like cishet white men complaining about something being 'bad' because it's 'woke' or has anything *besides* a cishet white man for the protagonist.

*god forbid something isn't tailor made specifically for them.*

swear to gawd, i got a list of different bullshit and circle jerking i've seen all across different fandoms for different reasons. no i'm not mad at any one person in particular, just a little salty from recurring problems and gatekeeping (ghoulfucking-GHOULFUCKING OF ALL THINGS I--I CANNOT) if not straight up bullying (does it really make a bitch feel *so* much better to try and hurt other people for liking what they, and let's be honest, are not willing to give the time of day?) in fandoms. (the complete audacity of people to complain about a media being 'childish' or 'bad' because 'insert nonsensical trivial bullshit here that holds no weight because it's personal taste if not flat out wrong and not actual critique' and then turn around and throw the biggest fucking tantrums about it--let me not get into the whole sharon carter debacle jesus christ--)

same shit. different pile.

also, fuck me. i keep *forgetting* that genuinely valid critique (*not* personal taste/opinion, proper critique pertains to things like techniques used, composition, narrative consistency and plot holes, goals of the artist/writer, accomplishments of those goals, etc.) is something that needs proper education and understanding all on its own which not a whole ton of people get or even know, which just goes to show--i'm a dumbass too. (but i won't deny that plenty of 'critics' are full of shit and *know* this but use their 'personal taste' as 'critique' *anyway* because... they enjoy being complete assholes and discouraging other artists i guess.)

y'all, take a class or two in art critique and literature analysis. you'll learn all the cool lingo (to later forget if you're like me~), and maybe (hopefully) walk out with a bit more of an open mind wanting to encourage more art in the world, even if you don't personally like it. take a moment to *listen* to differing opinions in their *entirety* and you might even gain a new perspective.

*no one* should be ashamed to ask questions or admit they don't know or understand something and fuck the people that would make you feel that way. *we can and should help each other.*

but stagnant or hostile fandoms with no self awareness and perpetuated elitism circle jerks? *really* fucking shameful, regardless of the form or where they are.

ANYWHO--

ugh, fuck. okay. i think i'm done with that tangent, back on topic--

BILLY BEAN~<3

and i want to reiterate that *again*, dear becky *does* confirm pretty much everything i'm going to discuss here tho technically speaking, nothing is spoiled here as it's just reiterating what is implicit (if not stated outright) throughout the series.

as far as dear becky goes, it's a good final gut-wrenching piece to the series and i loved it, but it definitely leaned on more of 'tell' instead of 'show, don't tell' (no duh in context, but probably because the rest of the comic did the 'show'--very well imo but it still flew over peoples' heads and made them misplace their brains--i'm sorry, i've just lost so much patience for the lack of reading comprehension and media literacy, but honestly? ennis is genuinely too good at knowing how to spark a strong emotional reaction in readers. and can we talk about the dense mofos that *make* authors have to 'tell' just to confirm something that is heavily implied--what, no time? oh, fuck, fine.)

OKAY--

addiction.

what about it, and why am i mentioning it. well. because if it's not clear by now, william butcher is an addict.

and it is one of, if not the core element that drives him to do what he does.

not becky or becca. not justice.

addiction.

and i don't mean traditional substance abuse (though he admits there has been as much in his life, especially with alcohol, his drug of choice is a bit more complex and maybe not so easy to spot on the surface for those unfamiliar with addiction).

in the show, we even see him mention that he's 'done 'em all' and there's *nothing* like temp v--and it's because temp v *amplifies* his *addiction* to the highest level it could exist on.

something else to note, there's a ton of stigma and widespread (ableist) misconception surrounding addiction still (which may be part of why people may not want to recognize it in billy), but it is absolutely a clinical mental disorder and people who suffer from it should be treated as *medical patients*, not reduced to violent criminals and scumbags. (fuck you drug war and prohibition, you are the root of organized crime and you're racist as shit.) it's also possible to become addicted to *anything*. and i mean *anything*.

if you can repeat a behavior and your brain no longer cares whether or not that behavior is causing you harm because there is a *compulsive* urge for that *repetition* or a specific result from it? that is addiction. money, anger, pain, violence, self harm, attention, love...

you'd think the last one might be okay, but it's not. it's an easy way to get caught in the infinite loop of an abusive relationship, just with promise of it. no delivery necessary.

but it doesn't have to be drugs that cause addiction. hell, gambling addiction is a thing all it's own that can get *incredibly* severe.

and listen, too much of *anything* can be horrible for you. fucking coconut will give you the runs if you eat too much that shit is *not* fun pun intended--

i digress.

in billy's case? he's actually addicted to two i just listed.

violence. and self harm.

i mentioned before that what drives billy has next to nothing to do with what happened to becky or becca.

there's a common misconception that, at the end of the day, billy does have some level of good intent behind his actions, and to a degree this is true in the *complete reverse* of what people often assume, and this is proven repeatedly in both the show (with just what we have seen) and comic (where its laid out too heavily to ignore).

setting aside the fact that there's *never* a good 'rEaSoN' to commit or even attempt *genocide* (EVER. i have ZERO patience for the constant apologism of this bullshit, SWEAR TO GAWD FANDUMB--) and billy's genocidal tendencies on their own, the idea that 'he goes after homelander for becca' or 'justice' has been completely debunked.

'justice is not vengeance'

something to always keep in mind.

but... in the first season? hughie called him out on this.

butcher calls him a 'disgrace to robin's memory', and hughie--bless his little heart, responds with 'i think i'm doing this *for* her.'

it's an interesting response, because hughie is essentially saying--

'you'll *die* for this woman, but that's not what she would have wanted. i'm going to *live* for robin, and for *annie*, because *that's* what she would have wanted.'

and he's absolutely right. billy loved becca, would have died for her. but he refuses to listen and *live* for her.

the group therapist too even before hughie. she literally laid it all out, front and center in the clearest way possible, 'it's a defense mechanism', and then butcher had his little meltdown just before telling hughie about becca, everything he can, including *using* other peoples tragedies and his own *specifically* to manipulate hughie and try and make sure *starlight* can't *save* him from what butcher is trying to turn him into.

*so that hughie stays stuck on his reason to die, instead of finding one to live.*

in the second season, *becca* herself calls him out on this, multiple times.

'you put me on this pedestal but i never knew how to save you'.

'--i didn't come to you, i went to vought--.'

and that's just it, becca (and becky in the comic) is *intimately* familiar with billy's *addiction* and the underlying mental health issues he *wouldn't address*. she didn't tell him what happened even after the shock of it because she *knew* that it would just become a reason for billy to *give in* and be his worst self to a degree where she would *lose him* regardless of what she felt or asked for from him.

she felt she had to *suffer in silence* to *protect him* from *himself*, something that ends up *destroying* her.

becca wanted to *save* billy, but more importantly, she wanted *him* to *save himself* because she *believed in him*, *so much*.

'i never wanted that for you.'

she doesn't want billy to drown and suffer or cause harm in his own hatred and addictions. she *loved* him so much so, that she was willing to *drown herself* if it meant she could save *him*. she loved him *too much*.

billy's mum too, even tries to help in her own way. (she is much less aware of billy's activity in the comic, but we'll come back to her. for the show, this was likely in response to seeing the news about *stillwell*, something his dad fucking *praised* him for)

'--that he wouldn't have this hold on you--'

billy's actions are almost entirely driven by the *addiction* his father forced on him. on doing the things that would make his 'daddy' *proud*. and the thing is, he's *fully aware* of this.

he constantly *says* that *becca* is his 'reason', that she was his *cure*, but she's the *excuse*. his *new addiction* and *self medication* (also billy, you fucking cunt you *know* what you do and have no leg to stand on when it comes to self medicating--)

both in the worst of what he does and his rejection of addressing his own traumas, and she is *unwilling* in this endeavor. she never wanted this hate to consume him, she never wanted all of this death with her name as the signature, *she never wanted billy to be his father*, much less be something much worse.

he even admits as much in the third season when he hallucinates lenny who tells him his actions would 'break becca's heart'

billy responds something along the lines of 'becca's dead, it doesn't matter what she thinks'. (a line presented in the comic even more harshly, but it drives the point home perfectly.)

when he sees lenny again in his nightmare--

'i'm not that bastard--.'

'come off it billy, you always have been. cause anyone who's ever loved you, you end up gettin' 'em killed, don't ya--.'

'--the last person on god's green earth tryin' to stop you from bein' a monster, and what do you do? drag him down to your level... when he dies... and he will... then no can stop you.'

OOF OUCH OWIE--. the lenny stuff hits so damn hard but it represents *perfectly* what butcher's own *internalized beliefs* are.

mallory calls him out on it literally every season.

'--but billy! not the others!'

'it's like asking a cockroach to not be a cockroach--'

'--because it wouldn't stop with just homelander--'

'this was never about ryan or becca, it was always selfish. the hate inside that you want to let loose on the world.'

'--i was wrong... you are your father, always have been...'

and then there's billy's subsequent impulsive reaction to push ryan away, and *be his father*.

but hell, even in gen v when mallory is speaking to shetty.

and truthfully, billy was even showing *withdrawal* symptoms at the beginning of the third season.

billy himself, even *self punishes*, picking fights he knows he *won't* win as a way to counterbalance *and* satisfy his own addiction, infinite loop. vicious cycle.. (ooh i will def be coming back to the big one here--), and we see this in one *HUGE* way, and in many many smaller ways, but even in the more literal sense of going to bars, starting trouble, and laughing or smiling when he's getting beat the fuck up or *losing*.

it's even highlighted in the show, billy *seeking out violence* and conflict whether he should or not, *especially* when unnecessary. getting his own face busted up and smiling because of it is something that happens multiple times in the comic (even on accident in one instance), and is def given a place in the show. it's easy to pass off as billy simply being a masochist (which is def true lmao he does admit as much), but there's also more to it than that and it goes hand in hand with his *addiction* and--

what he thinks he deserves.

billy *hates himself* so *severely* that he actually *does not believe* that he is capable of the *good* that others, such as lenny, becca, his mum, and hughie are willing to *see* in him. he *completely* believes it when others say that 'he is his father' (internalizes it, struggles with it, and frequently acts on it).

he puts on a show. bravado, posture, and 'confidence'. and he's so good at putting on that front, that he can fool himself, even for a moment. and those that believe it will even *enable* him. and the people he feels *nothing* for? again, he maintains the front. he lives his life *masking*, *faking it*--so fucking hard. homelander could never--

and it's not even necessarily the result of toxic masculinity. don't get me wrong, he def has some issues with that lingering (y'all, if you have *say* you're an 'alpha' and posture out your sweet little ass off 24/7, you're def *not* an 'alpha' lmfao), but it's more so his own *trauma* that forces him to *cling* to that.

but when he *loves*, and he loves *deeply*, he completely rolls over and shows his belly like a kitten<3... when he was with becky, he was happy and comfortable, and all of that *ridiculousness* just melted away completely... he didn't feel any need for it because he felt *safe*, because this constant *insecurity* and feeling of being *threatened* all the damn time looming overhead had suddenly cleared up with becky there.

it's not even so much that billy doesn't feel fear. he might not traditionally (at all if his amygdala is damaged), but considering the fight or flight response, billy's *default* setting literally *is* that *fight* response. he's the way he is because he is *always* afraid and he's been conditioned for it to manifest itself as *rage*.

we see bits of his love come through in a few moments he has with people he has genuine care for. (the way he loves his mum and she instantly calms him down is genuinely so sweet.)

but it's always gonna come back down to 'daddy dearest'.

because of him, *billy is afraid of living*.

and--

his father. *is proud of him*.

billy is *just like him* or *everything he wanted to be* as a *man*, or at least is compelled to *project* this on the surface. and everything in *billy* that *is* his father, *just like him*, is *everything* that billy *hates*. so it manifests into an *intense* self loathing and spiraled addiction that magnifies the worst of what his father *forced* on him.

he *doesn't want* to be *his father*, but he feels, and fully believes that *he already is*. his self hatred is another form of *hating his father*, because *he is that man's legacy*.

so *billy* doesn't *believe* that he deserves love or goodness or care from other people (a parallel we see in homelander, presented a bit differently.) so he 'doesn't care'. makes excuses to not care (about people in general, if not just the very *prominent* antisocial tendencies), or leave, or push them away, lashing out to give *them* the excuse to leave him, because he is *afraid* and in his own mind, *unworthy*.

he's *afraid* of being loved, of *losing* that love, of *hurting* those he loves. he is *afraid* of being his own father.

but it's all he's ever known, all he's ever been *conditioned* to be. intoxicated, ever present, it's this terrible thing that destroys him but he *can't* stop. *addiction*.

and what better way to protect those he loves than to keep himself as *far* away from them as possible? than to *make* them hate him. than to do the *wrong* thing, to *disappoint* them. self sabotage. self punishment.

he can't stop himself. he deserves it.

lather, rinse, repeat.

so what does that mean for homelander, or even the reason he goes after homelander? the *real* reason.

'there must be *some* good in him because homelander 'must be' this 'ultimate evil that *must* be stopped', right?

not really. he's a symptom of a much greater evil, but he was never the root of it. if billy really wanted to solve the problems at hand and get *justice*, he'd go after *vought*, NOT homelander.

homelander is not even the real villain in *billy's* mind, in all actuality.

what homelander *is*?

temptation.

he is... the *ultimate* final high for billy. in terms of addiction to both *violence* and *self punishment*.

he doesn't actually go after homelander because he wants to 'stop him' or even kill him. not really. there are times billy starts a fight *expecting* to *lose*, *wanting* it. homelander *is* one of those times to the most intense degree that billy could find. and he even senses this when they first meet--unnecessarily, privately insulting the man because why?

because he feels *threatened*. because he feels *insecure*. because if homelander is *truly good*, even with *all that power*--

then billy has no fucking excuse--

it is, in essence, the same exact reaction that lex luthor has to superman. forcing himself to *challenge* him because of a *constant* sense of *fear*. (except lex *is* afraid of dying, so 1000% a huge coward lmao--)

but~, when he finds out homelander is *bad*?

homelander is billy's *failsafe*

to stop the person he feels is the most terrible evil of all *and* to set the world on fire in the process. a way for billy to kill two birds with one stone. compelled by his addiction to *chase* this ideation relentlessly.

homelander is to billy--his ultimate end, self punishment, a death wish, a *suicide attempt*.

and a way to *unleash his hatred onto the rest of the world*, *to make it burn*, even after his death. (this would be why despite many many MANY warnings to *not* push homelander *because of the catastrophe this will ultimately instigate and the loss of life this is bound to result in*--billy does not give a shit about the potential consequences. he welcomes them--)

if homelander were a *nuke*, billy would want to *launch* him. right now, homie is more like the *demon core*, incredibly dangerous and in some instances lethal, but not *yet* explosive.

billy *wants* the *warhead*.

it was why he got *so excited* at the *chance* of homelander offering him 'scorched earth'.

the man read billy like an open fucking book, and set the bait--

y'all, in other words, homie straight up went to billy's house and offered *crack* to the *crack addict*--fuck yeah he's gonna take that offer!

homelander never actually perceives billy as a real threat *at all* (safe to say, this is the main reason he doesn't kill him. there's a bit of personal complex combined with the deals/blackmail/request involved, but this would also be why he doesn't *hesitate* to 'kill' billy at herogasm. he genuinely gives no fucks about this poor man or his many anal complexes and daddy issues beyond the mild entertainment he gets from him and just how *easy* it is to read billy or rile him up. maybe a *dash* of novelty being found in billy's obsession with him. i'll go into the homie side of things in depth maybe someday soon lol but for now--)

and here's the thing, homelander isn't the *only* failsafe. he is simply the *ultimate failsafe*

included in all the possible bad habits billy has is pawning off his *responsibility* and personal accountability, even his *will to do good* onto others.

i mentioned before that becca (becky) was like a new addiction for him. and she was. in a sense, billy was using her to self medicate. she loved him, gave him love and made him feel good, no pain, no shame--but also no pause to think about that pain, self hatred and self doubt and actively address it. she was a way to not worry about his own *goodness* because she was an *easy* reason for him to *want* to be good.

and something important to note?

billy feels that he has *cheated* on becca/becky *since* the day she left/died. (there's a whole ass deliciously intricate story there but i'm trying to avoid the spoilers lmao. kind of a freebie hint i guess.)

lenny and hughie similarly make an effort to *hold butcher back* and reach out to him. (everyone does honestly, but not everyone is so successful with it). and butcher lets them, but *also* removes the agency of his own choice in the matter.

he doesn't just *let them* make him *good*, he doesn't believe he's capable of stopping himself on his own--but he believes in *them* because they *are* good, *truly good*.

hughie all on his own is *another kind of failsafe* and lo and behold, even calls butcher out on this by the end of the third season (theme is prevalent in the comic a lil different but again spoilers lol):

'i don't think you want to do this. i think you want me to stop you.'

*ding*ding*ding*!

nail on the head, hughie... butcher does not believe he can stop himself. so he sets up *failsafes* to do as much.

and let me just say, it is *unbelievably* shitty of him to do that, to pawn off the responsibility of his own behavior, whether good or pure evil onto other people. but i get it. and it fucking breaks my heart for him.

because *that* is addiction. it feels like mind control. aggressive compulsion. you feel ashamed, and hate yourself, and don't care if you hurt yourself or even others. but you keep *hoping*, *wishing*, *leaving a breadcrumb trail* so that *someone*, *anyone*, will come along and--

*save you. from you.*

and when you stop believing in yourself, in your own willpower to fight against this *thing* that just completely *destroys* you from the inside out... without *anyone* on your side, what else is left to do but to numb the pain?

i was able to recognize billy's addiction right off the bat because i've *been* to a lot of the places he has been. including the addiction. and he makes me so *fucking* mad because it's like seeing a version of myself *still stuck*, *still lost*, *still trapped* by my own issues and self loathing, and all of the abuse i've gone through--

and the biggest fuck up, the biggest *abuser* is me.

i can't *escape* me. *no one* can escape *themself*.

that fucker breaks my heart to pieces because *i have been there*, and i know just how fucking hard it is to *be* there, just how much harder it is to *get out* and start to *learn*--*who is it you really wanna be? who are you without this drug?*

and something he even says in the comics on a few occasions is--

'i'm not really here, i'm somewhere else watching this happen'

asserting that he *truly* believes that he has *no control* over *what* he is. (in contrast with homelander, who feels the weight of something similar but more literally in some regard, and in relation to so many other aspects in his life with the world around him.)

billy butcher *is* the *true villain* of *his own story*

of his own making.

he's not after homelander or even vought. he doesn't blame society or even his father at this point. he blames himself. and he's *given up* entirely on fighting himself. he's looking for his *overdose*.

*that's homelander*

ain't that a kick in the head...

it's part of what makes their relationship and dynamic so incredibly electric and titillating. it's got nothing to do with becca or becky.

butcher sees homelander as an easy way out. as a way to control the narrative, *maintain his own*, and *stop the bad guy* without bringing someone *good*, like *hughie*, down to his level.

he *sees* the parallels, a kindred spirit. he *knows* the potential. and he wants to be the *spark* to light all that *gasoline*.

because then it won't be his fault anymore. his *guilt*. he'll have passed on his *curse*.

likewise, he actually goes after supes in general for a similar enough reason, and it ties in with why he *doesn't* go after vought directly.

billy actually *likes* the status quo. to a degree, *needs* it, *needs vought*

because *vought* is the *creator* of his *supply*, feeding this addiction. and we hear billy say this in both the comic and show--

'with great power comes the absolute certainty that you'll turn into a right cunt.'

and billy actually believes this--about himself.

when he says it about other supes and even his intense hatred of them, it is a *projection* of his own issues and what he believes to be true for himself (that he would do the absolute worst thing imaginable given the opportunity). and in a way, going after them is in some ways a metaphor for stopping and destroying himself, hating himself, as much as it is a way to maintain his addiction.

and--

maintain the narrative he has built--that he is the true villain.

and if that's the case, well... it takes a *hero* to stop a *villain*, right?

but also--y'all remember that scene in the suicide squad where polkadot man imagines everyone as his mum? how he imagines starro as his mum?

yeah, that.

that's basically billy. every fucking supe, including starlight, and kimiko, and let's *really* not talk about what this means about him sleeping with maeve in context with his 'supe=daddy' issues, but even the person he sees in the mirror. *all of them* are *his father*.

listen, i'm not kidding. billy's daddy issues are seriously severe, so fucking bad, i--

his actions aren't for becca or becky or ryan or justice. even he *knows* that's bullshit and admits as much (which just makes fandom denying it that much more fucked). but they're not even *just because* or because he's genocidal, antisocial, or anything else. he *does* want someone to stop him. he's sane enough to recognize his actions for what they truly are *behind* the mask.

billy's actions are a volatile and violent *cry for help*, because he never learned how to *ask*, or even how to *believe in himself*.

he never truly learned that *he never had to be his father*, and he didn't *need* becky or becca, lenny or hughie to *be good*.

i actually think billy's greatest magic trick is convincing even the audience and readers that he is a *total*, complete piece of shit. and don't get me wrong, he is *def* a huge, massive, incredibly rank and ripe piece of shit--.

and y'all, i'm sorry if you believed him and got played like a damn fiddle, him and homie def throwin' in some hard balls--

but he's also still human. he also still needs just as much if, honestly? maybe even more, fucking *help* than homelander. which kind of draws back into their parallels. the tomfoolery of fandom might have you believe that billy is less complex or more put together than homelander, but their situations go hand in hand and the evidence suggests (if not confirms) something quite different.

billy's plight and even goal in some sense is *convincing the rest of his world that he is a monster*. driven by the addiction his father gave him. enabled by the world around him.

homelander's? it's actually the complete opposite. his struggle is with *his world convincing him that he is a monster*, and in turn, against his own instincts, *growing* into that role. when in reality, he never got the chance to decide for himself, it was decided *for* him a long long time ago.

'i think, therefore i am.'

'i can, therefore i must.'

however, *our actions cannot define who we are, because we can choose our actions*. good or bad are not something you inherently *are*, they are something you *choose to do*.

it paints what in turn becomes quite the brutal and tragic picture when these two forces meet. homelander and billy are both of the mindset that they *don't have a choice*.

and this bit is a bit more of a personal thought, but regarding billy's mum, she was *becky*. she was sweet, and kind, and cared for her family more than anything. *it didn't matter what she suffered, she was willing to drown if it meant saving the people she loved*.

as much as i adore how cute becca and billy were, i don't think she would have saved him.

i think the implication is that she would have either 'drowned' trying and become his mum, history repeating itself in a vicious cycle as billy spread his disease to any child they could have.

or that she would have lost her mind. and in turn *become* the person billy spread his disease to, if not another enabler for him. if not billy's choice of drug, maybe she would have taken up something else and eventually overdosed. i would even say the show implies this outcome with both becca and hughie, as the more butcher pushes--the more worn down they get.

if you put enough pressure on someone--they break.

becca was *good* for him. but billy was so, so fucking *bad* for her.

it begs the question of whether or not billy *is* right, if he really is this monster, *fated* to become his father in the worse of ways. of whether or not it's too late for him.

he's certainly not 'normal' or 'right' or 'good' or even an 'anti-hero'. at best, you could maybe call him an 'anti-villain', he is meant to be the deuterantagonist.

it def doesn't help that every time he has the *chance* to do the right thing, *someone* goes and enables him, gives him a reason to do the *wrong* thing.

fucking maeve in that last episode of the third season. but she's def not the only one, and def not the only time. (and yes, if it wasn't clear enough, being completely fucking indifferent to killing *thousands* of people to go after *one* fucking guy is in fact, the *wrong* thing to do.)

butt.

rewatching the scenes with lenny and billy's reaction, and even the final fight, showed something of a *possible* silver lining.

billy *enjoys* rejecting his father. actually pretty fucking greatly if we're being honest. generally speaking, it's when he *rejects* his father and everything that man represents that billy is at his *happiest* (lmao the epitome of an unfulfilled submissive sweetheart and bratty bossy bottom~<3<3<3)

there's a moment, where soldier boy says something along the lines of--

'--fuck you. you're weaker than he is.'

in regards to homelander. it's sort of glossed over, but this is billy's reaction to essentially being called a 'disgrace' so to speak by a toxic 'alpha male'.

y'all see that? it's a smile. lmao a smirk.

this is a moment where billy is protecting *ryan* and keeping his promise to becca. it's a moment where billy is *doing the right thing*, all on *his own* (mostly lol i'm sure there's a roundabout way to justify it in his head). and i think that's key.

it's not just a moment he's proud of himself and has a legitimate fucking reason to be proud of himself, (oh btw, we shoulda *all* been proud of billy in this moment), it's a moment he's *breaking through what his father made him* and his own *addiction*.

and he's doing it *selflessly* and--*without setting that responsibility on another person*.

so we *know* he has it in him, he always has. even becky *in the comic* kept trying to convince billy that *he is capable of good without her*. and again, we actually saw this in the second season when becca and ryan were reunited and billy *changed* his plans, *for becca*, instead of doing the selfish thing and selling ryan back to vought.

but if billy doesn't believe it himself...

i don't think billy is right about himself. but it is very *very* difficult for someone to *correct course* so to speak, once they have their *core beliefs*, lay out their own destiny and start along a *self fulfilling prophecy*, something him and homelander *both* do.

enter ryan.

and suddenly (lol probably in part due to reading dear becky lol), there was a bit of... not so much new, as *confirmed* perspective in play after that rewatch, something to *look* for and ponder in regards to *why* ryan may have been added for this story, a question in mind--

'would it be wrong of *ryan* to want to save his father?'

was it wrong of becca or becky, hughie or lenny, even his mum, to want to save billy?

how would *billy* even begin to answer such questions?

a different answer for the two would be a clear hypocritical bias (which lol i would not put past billy, but i also wouldn't be surprised if he maintained consistent thinking by answering *yes* to both)

. . .

y'all...

i still can't say i'm particularly optimistic about things turning out alright for either gent or ryan, butt~<3

garth ennis literally made the saddest, most pathetic, deliciously sweet, perfectly precious, extra emo tsun tsun baby boi ever, and put him right under our noses.

some a y'all fucking sneezing all over him, straight up sleepin' on all his *best* bits. how are we not utilizing billy butcher *properly~<3<3<3*????

;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

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stranger-rants · 1 year

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I'm a little sensitive because I got into another car accident (I am okay. It wasn't bad, but considering I almost died in a much worse wreck, it did bring up some very unhappy feelings in me), but I absolutely hate the way this fandom talks about the car crash scene between Steve and Billy. They're completely insensitive and cruel about it, and I was much more sensitive about it then than I am now because that episode aired like a year after my own wreck.

But stick with me.

The scene itself was set up to make the "heroes" look cool and badass, but it doesn't actually feel heroic. At all. There's this season long failure to recognize and respect that there's a person trapped inside the possessed body the heroes are fighting, and as such they don't care what happens to that body. They would not have acted the way they did with Billy if it had been one of their friends that got flayed. So, that in itself makes everything feel less heroic. It actually makes me feel worse about these characters that I am "supposed" to love.

...but add onto that, people portray Steve slamming into Billy's car with a car that has no value to him as this "triumph over evil" scene. Worse, there are Anti posts with hundreds of notes either praising him or saying he should have finished the job. That doesn't vibe with the set up of the scene, and it treats Billy as the villain because it was his body in that car. The fandom also strives to portray Steve as someone who wouldn't hesitate to murder someone, as if he had the opportunity to really think about it before crashing into Billy. That's not the reality of it.

Billy would have never wanted to intentionally crash his car or seriously use it as a weapon. He may drive recklessly and he may have joked about hitting a few kids once, but that doesn't mean he wanted to hurt anyone especially while he was possessed. There's ample evidence that he didn't want to do any of it. He said The Mindflayer made him do bad things (kill people) which obviously traumatized him, and then there was ample evidence that he continued to fight against the possession.

The car was one of the few things Billy had that represented his freedom away from his abusive home, and that gets totalled in a scene that fans get downright gleeful about and for what? What does it really say about their favorite characters or even about Billy? Billy sat there in the car revving his engine with his lights on, crying. The Mindflayer took everything from him. This was just one more thing. What's so triumphant or heroic about any of it? As soon as the cars collided, The Mindflayer had full control again and Billy was marching towards his death.

Not only that, but the scene of Billy passed out in his car in flames just screams tragedy to me. I know how painful a car wreck can be physically and emotionally. I couldn't move on my own after my wreck without excruciating pain, so I know how much his body was screaming at him to stop even though The Mindflayer wouldn't let him. It's an extremely upsetting, tragic scene to me because I know he's feeling everything while having control over very little. That's what car accidents feel like. You don't have control, and it feels horrible.

I just can't comprehend why that scene in particular is the height of fun entertainment for so many when it's so painful to me, and maybe it's because I take it more personally but maybe it's also because Billy isn't treated like a person who deserved better than the horrific amount of torture and pain he went through.

#text post #it really infuriates me #billy hargrove #stranger things

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cerealboxlore · 1 year

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something i need more of is protective captain marvel

specifically fiercely protective of people he personally cares about (mostly leaning towards family hear but also friends) captain

like of course with a heroes heart (whatever that means) caps gonna be naturally protective

but billy probably also has some separation anxiety from his parents death and, if it’s a twin sister mary version, being separated from her

possibly add onto that memories from past champions of their loved ones dying? no way he wouldn’t be protective

so what i want to see is a marvel, who has been working with the league for a while, having them meet the shazamily for whatever reason and just just being fiercely protective

i want his mindset to revert(?) to billy to a certain degree making him act a little bit (a lot) feral to protect them from the smallest of things and to glare a glare harsher than batmans at the league while trying to physically distant them

if the flash or someone flirts with one of them (obviously not knowing they’re underage and if its the flash him not being married/in a relationship) and for marvel to just punch him in the face immediately without thought

I think we could all benefit from more protective Captain Marvel, if I speak for everyone.

Billy having separation anxiety isn't something I considered before, but now that you bring it up, it makes complete sense! It fits into his character so well with having been abandoned so many times in his life, he'd depend on the few stable and promising relationships in his life for safety and comfort, even when in his champion form. He'd want to protect them at all costs, no matter what. Because underneath that magical form of a champion is a small child scared of the world who wants them to be continuously alone. A child who is used to having nothing will protect the the things they hold dear as they grow older, no matter what. Adding on that, with the reoccurring memories and dreams from the past lives of the former champions of magic who have already experienced death, mourning, and worse fates, Billy Batson wouldn't come out of it without needing some therapy.

Tawny as a therapy cat is much needed.

Billy has such a pure heart, a sweet boy, I can definitely seeing him accidentally become overly protective of his found family when introducing them to other people and fellow superheroes.

The idea of another superhero flirting with one of them isn't an impossibility, just a little awkward to approach. If anyone ever does, I'm pretty sure the whole shazamily would reject that person as a team, hahaha

Maybe Flash would give Mary a compliment considering the similar costumes, but I think Guy Gardner trying to make a pass at one of them and immediately getting decked across the city sky by Billy would be incredible. Feral nature is approved in that moment. Unleash the Billy!

#This was such a lovely ask #Tysm!#Billy batson #dc captain marvel #Shazam #Shazamily #I love getting asks like this #Makes me think more about Billy and how his personal traumas affect him even as the Champion of Magic #Like #I could make an essay about this boy one day

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 months

Text

Their Song (Killshot, Part 4.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: While Ghost was trying to process the new information during his military duties, Cassie had a different idea on her mind - inviting you both to join the party during the upcoming karaoke session.

A/N: Okay listen, I know we're here for our boy Ghost and his story, but come on - we can not ignore how fine of a specimen Captain John fucking Price is. Like girl, don't even pretend you wouldn't be smitten by this charmer. He's the catch, the moment, the stunner. I wanted to write a chapter that focuses on the relationship between other characters too, so expect some bonding between Johnny, Cass, Nelly, Gaz and Price. Cuz we love good friendships and happy families. The chapter's ending is heavily influenced by Saturn and Turning Page by Sleeping at Last.

Warnings: Strong mentions of anxiety, reader getting hammered, usage of alcohol, and smoking (both mentioned and active), Simon Riley secretly having the voice of an angel. A lot of '...' is used in emotionally heavy moments. Mentions of various pop songs - it's not important, you can imagine singing any song you'd like - the only song I'm adamant about is Meet Me At Our Spot (by the Anxiety) being their song because the entirety of the story is built on it.

Word count: 9.5K (i have no apology)

Tagging: @poohkie90

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Cassie did as she promised - after Simon texted her the address, she was at your flat within the next 15 minutes. The traffic was usually clogged at this hour, but she did her best. Simon couldn't appreciate it enough. "... And I've cooked some vegetable broth for when she wakes up. Think it's a bit strong, but whatever. It'll get her back on her feet.." - Simon explained to Cassie as he walked through the flat, explaining what went down that evening. The woman listened intently, nodded, and hummed when needed. - "Promised her I'd wake her up when it's done, but she looked miserable the last time I checked on her."

"That's very nice of you." - Cassie smiled, putting her coat away as she was making herself more comfortable - she packed fresh homey clothes and the most basic hygiene she could need in case your flu got even worse than that. Living alone wasn't easy and sometimes, you needed someone to rely on - Cassie, still considering you one of her closest friends, was glad she could be that someone for you. - "She's lucky someone's looking out for her like you do.

"The least I could do, really." - The man grunted, putting his jacket on. No matter how much he liked being around Cass, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He was barely containing the urge to beat Billy to a pulp and he didn't want to direct these intense emotions towards Cass or, in the worst case, you. - "Bonnie's also taken care of, took her for a walk, and checked she had enough to drink and to eat. Would be wise to walk her in the morning, though." "Aye aye, captain. Stop worrying - you keep on forgetting that I live with Johnny, I know how to make shit work." - The blonde nodded, smirking at all the concern she could see in Simon's eyes. - "I'm sure both of them will be alive and well tomorrow morning if you'd like to check on them. Or, you could cancel your plans and hang around? I'm sure Y/N would be delighted to see you when she wakes up." "Can't. It's urgent." - Simon dismissed, looking around for the last time. The peaceful image of being able to put his shoes in the same shoe rack was smushed by all the anxiety and hatred he was feeling. It felt as if this image flashed in his head years ago, not a few hours ago.

Cassie was waiting for Simon to make sure everything was okay - it was hard to say what was going on inside his mind, but there had to be something. Yes, she and Johnny caught the wind that your chemistry seemed to be flowing well - especially after you disclosed to her that Ghost visits you nearly every shift, spending your lunch breaks together. She wouldn't have suspected the two of you were at this stage, though. Cassie was... Genuinely happy when she heard Simon was at your place, taking care of you when you got sick. The two of you were one of the best people she had gotten to know - and from what little Johnny told her about L.t., neither of you had the best of luck with the people who hung around you. Cassie wasn't sure who it was when it came to Simon, but in your case, Billy was the prime example. She hated his guts ever since you introduced them on one of your shifts. The guy gave her the chills even though she mostly liked everyone - that was a major red flag.

Therefore, the knowledge of the two of you... Spending time together, getting to know each other... That was something that made Cassie smile. "Hey, Si?" - She asked when Simon finally walked to the front door, ready to leave the apartment. "What is it?" "Hope you didn't forget about next Saturday?" "How could I? You and Johnny keep bugging me off about it. Price also chimed in today." - Ghost reiterated with irony, sending one of his famous wink in Cassie's direction. - "Can't wait." "Take care, big guy."

For the next few hours, Cassie and Bonnie dozed off while watching the Bake Off - the two were splayed on the couch, nuzzling together. Bon usually slept in your bed (you even bought the doggie stairs for her since she was too small to hop onto it), but since your door was shut tight and there was a new strange human friend to hang around, she gladly spent the night with Cass. It could be around four in the morning when you woke up, setting on a journey to take a piss, have some veggie broth, take some painkillers, and then, go to sleep again. As you noticed Cassie messaging her eyes (the creaking of your floorboards woke her up), you thought you'd simply made her up. The last you remembered, Ghost didn't have long blonde hair and a petite figure. She frightened you when you walked back into the living room - the girl was standing in the small kitchenette area, heating up the broth while making you both a cup of tea.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty." - She hummed as she stretched her back, yawning as she did so. "Hi." - You muttered back, coughing right after. - "What are you doing here? When... Did you come?" "Around 8? Ghost had something going on and couldn't stay, unfortunately, so he called for backup. I'm the backup." "Figures. So sorry to bother you, but I'm good, Cass. Bet you'd rather be doing anything else than hanging around with me right now." "Shush, Y/N. I'm glad to be here." - The woman answered, sending you one of her heartfelt, genuine smiles. Damn, she was still the same sunshine you remembered. - "On a different topic, I hope you're hungry. The broth smells so damn good." "He promised to wake me up when it's done. Bet the plans came out of nowhere." - You assumed, putting on a sweater to try to fight off the chills. You were so cold that your teeth kept on clattering.

"Does sound like Ghost to me." - The girl answered, snickering. - "He checked on the flat at least four million times before he left, though, so you can be sure we're safe and sound here." "Were you cleaning up?" - You wondered, noticing the folded clothes - furrowing at the sight of your coat also being neatly folded. Whoever was cleaning up your kitchen was a damn genius. All of the appliances suddenly seemed pristine, even those that you struggled to clean for years. Everything was organized in a way that simply made sense. It was hard to explain, but the newly given order made your kitchen three times nicer. Also, all the mess laying around the flat, that you've been planning on cleaning the entire week, was neatly put on the coffee table for you to organize - along with that fucking photo... And that fucking letter. "No, me and Bon dozed off after McAvoy went on a tangent about his dough being a bit too wet." - Cassie admitted honestly, putting a mug filled with hot tea in front of you. You didn't flinch away from the sight of the photo and the letter lying on the coffee table, your expression devoid of emotion.

Ghost, you realized, your expression slowly drowning in worry and horror. Did Ghost see it? Did Ghost read it? Of course he did, you didn't bother with picking up the photo even though you knew it was lying under the fridge. Why would you? But what about about you now? You were in so much trouble, if Billy gets to know, he'll come and... You had to almost slap yourself. Billy wasn't there to do shit anymore. You were safe. As you sat there, frozen in place, you realized you weren't even mad at Ghost - it felt so freeing for someone to know. To know what you're going through, to see it all on paper. You should've been raging, you should ask Cassie to call Ghost's sorry ass so you could talk with him about who gave him the right to fucking snoop - and instead, you were so fucking grateful. A huge portion of the weight was lifted off your shoulders, realizing there was someone you could confide in regarding what Billy said... You could tell Ghost about everything Billy had done to you.

Sure, most people didn't like Billy, but none of the said people knew how bad the situation truly was. Others could see only how he treated you in public - how he talked about you as if you were a pet, something he had to take care of, something so annoying he hated it with every fiber of his being. What they didn't know? About everything that had happened in your old apartment, about what went down behind the closed doors. None of them knew about the numerous emergency visits, about all the 'stairs you've fallen off', about the holes in the walls, about the broken furniture and dishes. The people around you, except your mum, didn't know. The fact you didn't file a report against his ass was astonishing - you had plenty of chances to do so. The doctor who treated you anytime you came in asked multiple times if you'd like to share something with him - you could see it in his eyes - he knew. But you never did. You were too scared. So scared you fled one day.

You should've burnt both, the photo and the letter, just like you promised your mum. Instead, the evidence lay right there, on your coffee table, and someone whom you trusted dearly was aware of your struggle.

"You alright?" - Cassie wondered, watching your distressed expression. "Hm?" "I'm asking if you're alright, been silent for the past couple of minutes. You're looking like you've seen a ghost." "I'm pretty sure he's asleep by now, but okay." - You answered, your sass making Cassie snicker.

After you've both eaten a bowl of that delicious fucking broth (it was the best you've had in your life), chatting about everything new in your respective lives, Cassie fished out a package of butter biscuits from literally nowhere. Later, she admitted she found them in the pantry - this made you smile. While biscuits weren't your go-to snack, you could appreciate them - Ghost thought of everything. He bought utensils, medicine, actual food and even snacks. If God finally decided to answer your prayers for a guardian angel, Ghost was it. "'s the tea okay?" - Cass wondered, sitting opposite you with a croaked smile. Bonnie was lying by her feet, hoping Cassie would drop at least a crumble of cookies by 'accident'. "Best I've had in years. Poured your heart into making that cuppa, didn't you?" "You bet, love. Anywho, Johnny and I were wondering... What you're up to next Saturday?" "Nothing I can think of. I'll probably have a spa day with my mum. Hadn't taken her out in a month." "Would you like to come to a karaoke with us? It's in the evening, so you'd have plenty of time for your mum and yourself." - Cass asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope. - "Everyone's wondering if you'd show up!"

"Uh-uh, they surely are." - You reiterated uncomfortably. It was hard to believe any of the people surrounding Cassie would genuinely want you around - you could say Cass was enthralled by the prospect of having you join their little crew, but the rest? "Not this again, girl. For starters, Johnny is talking my ear off regarding you, constantly asking if I've invited you yet? What did the bonnie say? You hadn't asked her? Shite, hon, pick up the phone and do it right now!" - The way she horridly imitated Johnny's accent made you genuinely laugh. - "Nelly asked countless times if you'd join our brunches and hangouts, she hadn't talked to you in years. Kylie will be there. Gaz promised he'd stop by for a drink, and Price... Girl, you'll love Capt'n Prize. He's easygoing, fun and very easy on the eyes." "Cass! Behave, you have a man at home." - You exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! He's one handsome bloke, a high-ranking geezer in the military, too - I won't be denying he's handsome. If you think I'm wicked, you should hear what Johnny says about the guy! You have no idea how many times I've had to listen to Johnny's rambling about John's pecs." - With this, you both giggled until comfortable silence fell over the room.

"So... Are you coming?" "I... I don't think it's appropriate. You guys seem like a good party of friends, I'd be your plus one - the new weirdo on the block. Yannow what I mean?" "Except you wouldn't be, dummy. C'mon, everybody wants you to come. Ghost even said it's his only condition - you wouldn't wanna let the guy rot at home now, would you?" "He said that? You're committing emotional extortion right now, Cassandra." - You tried to circle around, but Cass' knowing smile revealed she was seeing right through your bullshit - she knew well to keep Ghost's wish under wraps until the last moment. It was nice watching you get excited, giddy up and grin a bit. She didn't answer your question, just smiled - "Well... If that's the case, I might drop for a glass or two." "I'm so happy to hear that. Wear whatever bloody hell you want, we don't care, just feel comfy and come in a good mood. The drinks are on us, we'll only need help with the rental. Also - we need to sing a song together." "No way Cass. You remember how bad I am at singing, right?" "Bull-fucking-shit. It's gonna be so epic. God, I can't wait."

Well, no matter how much you tried to resist and how you planned on shutting Cass' request down, by 9 p.m. on the following Saturday, the two were yelling some pop-song lyrics into the microphone with a drink in your hand. Holy fuck it felt wonderful to let all the worries and burdens go, even for one evening.

The week leading up to the karaoke session was a doozie for both you and Simon. He contemplated asking Cassie for your number, to call you, text, check on you - he'd been scheduled to look after rookie training in a boot camp a few miles away from London, unable to make it back even for a small chat. He vanished into thin air at the worst time - he acknowledged but couldn't do anything to let you know. The man wished to let you know he wasn't mad and that he certainly wasn't going anywhere - but opening such a sensitive topic with the victim of domestic abuse was very tricky. Of which he was aware, as he also fell into this bracket. At times, Ghost wished he'd be better at conveying emotions and more approachable to open such topics. Although everything that happened during his life, he'd considered himself a good listener - he highly doubted you'd simply spill the beans about the darkest time of your life when you meet up next time, let alone acknowledge he snooped in your private matters without your permission. Were you mad at him? How much will you tell Ghost off when he makes it back home? Will it lead to a well-deserved argument? It should, right? The thoughts about you and William consumed Simon's brain during each second of the service, turning him into an anxious ball by the end of the week.

Not that you'd be faring better than Simon. If it was possible, you were doing even worse than he was - what was wrong? Where was he? Was he okay? Did the letter make him change his mind? Did Ghost draw false conclusions from it? Each day at work, you hoped to see the man approaching in the distance, carrying two cups - this would be the first sign that everything was okay. You wished he'd drop by for a chat, even if you'd awkwardly sit around in silence. Being unable to see him was killing you - only on Thursday you learned about his minor deployment. It didn't ease the stress much, but at least you knew you weren't the cause of his disappearance.

Cassie and Johnny, thankfully, pulled through. The night Cass stayed over, watching you, rekindled the long-lost friendship and fueled it with a new flame. This one was gentler, not all-consuming - it wasn't the spontaneous friendship of two kids but rather a meaningful adult connection you felt you were missing. Your mum was over the moon hearing that Cass invited you for a karaoke - as you told her about Johnny bringing you breakfast the following morning put a gentle, knowing smile on her face. The two started texting you whenever they felt like it, ranging from 'How you doing' to 'Look what a weird strange thing I found in the store today'. Johnny even came on Friday to have lunch with you - he'd been just dismissed from the base (he had to sign some new payment estimates and take a picture for his personnel folder), sending warmest regards from Ghost. This boosted your mood immensely, turning you into a brand new person.

This led you to Saturday night. Everyone invited to the karaoke was pretty neat, you had to admit. Nelly, just as Cass solemnly swore, was over the moon when she saw you approaching the table, squealed, and immediately pulled you into one of her bear hugs. Kylie, even though you didn't remember her, was easy to be around - she had a nice aura surrounding her as she sipped on her margarita. Gaz, Kyle to you, was another member of Johnny's squad, you've learned on your way to get a drink. The gentleman got on his feet when you announced you'd like something to drink, offering to accompany you. There was something about his careful tone, gentle smirk and slightly narrowed eyes. While you perceived Johnny as an unstoppable force fuelled by sweets and coffee, Gaz seemed calmer, like cold gauze treating a burn or the soothing smell of air after rain. You loved his aura - every bit of energy Kyle offered, you took with a grateful smile.

John Price, Capt'n Prize as Cass dubbed him, was every bit like Cass painted him out to be - even more than that. It was hard to believe he was real at first - men like him usually ended up on the cover of Sears. Your eyes were there for Ghost and Ghost only, but damn, John was ridiculously easy on the eyes, charming, and attractive - a fucking stunner at his finest. When you got over his ridiculous attractiveness, there was everything else about John Price. There was something about his sharp wit, rascalous grin and devious jitters in his eyes, something about the way he insisted on joining him on his smoke breaks. The guy was a good listener, sneering and gruffing upon hearing your jokes and stories, his eyes not leaving you for a second. If you weren't smitten with your masked soldier, you'd beg Price to give you his number by the end of the night.

Ghost was running late ('Don't you worry 'bout the boy, lass, he's alright', Price informed), and after Gaz brought you your third drink, singing sounded like a good fucking idea. Not too much later, you and Cassie were jumping on the impromptu stage, dancing to some sort of British electro-pop, grinning from ear to ear - Ghost was standing in the shuffle door of your reserved lounge, watching you two enjoying the moment. He'd imagined how to explain his late arrival and the fact he was gone for a week, but the moment you sent him a smile and waved at him, already a bit tipsy, all the excuses dissipated into thin air.

You looked so beautiful when you were having fun - all the worries and everyday problems disappeared with a wave of a wand (more probably a microphone, that was), and alcohol gave you the long-lost courage and love for life. Ghost had seen you happy before, yes, but he hadn't seen you entirely carefree yet. "Thank you, Lucky Voice, thank you! We'll be here all week!" - Cass cried out drunkenly, bobbing a curtsy to the entire table of drunkards watching you. "The hell we won't, the rental price is insane here, lass!" - Johnny protested, making Cass laugh. Kylie and Gaz got up, preparing to sing Abba's 'Super Trouper' right after your tremendous performance. Even though Ghost would love nothing but listening to them, he couldn't miss how you approached him, your legs unsteady and uncertain.

"Hey there, stranger." "Hey, love." - The man whispered, growing soft upon looking at your flustered face. You were a bit sweaty from all the jumping, but you still looked so fucking good. So fucking good that Ghost had to do his best not to kiss you right off the bat in fact - it was a tough week and you were finally there, in front of him, close enough he could feel your warmth on his skin, close enough to be hugged, kissed and cherished... Your presence felt like a fever dream. He'd been sacked at the boot camp, looking over rookies, and following orders while having you and William on his mind all the fucking time. One moment, he swore he'd kill the guy the next chance he got; when he blinked, memories of you suddenly appeared, plastering yourself all over his brain, smiling sweetly at him. He's been missing your presence, the unmistakable charm you were bringing to the world... It was a week since he'd been under your spell and there was no other place in the entire world he'd rather be than at the karaoke bar, right by your side. "You're looking... Rough." "Am I now?" "Long week?" "Fuckin' tell me about it." "The boys mentioned. Wanna grab a drink and go for a smoke break? I'm fresh out of mine so I'd appreciate both - some booze and fresh air." "Would be my pleasure."

Asking him about all the details he'd been willing to share, the two of you grabbed a drink and ventured in front of the karaoke bar for a bit, lazily shuffling back into the rented lounge. Even though you tried your damnest to prolong the moment you were having with Ghost, Johnny ruined the intimacy the moment he saw you approaching - the guy jolted over to you, grabbing you by your elbow with great care. "We're gonna sign, bonnie lass, me 'n you. Price found the perfect song for us." "Did he now? That sounds menacing." "It'll be in good fun, c'mon. Be a good sport for me, eh?" "I would never turn you down, Johnny. I'm just worried about which tune Price picked out, 's all."

"Give me your drink. I'll fetch it to the table." - Ghost offered silently, melting at the sight of you and Johnny giggling like two little kids. With a sorrowful smile, your glass ended up in Ghost's palm - you wished the moment would've lasted longer, that you'd have longer for listening to him rambling about everything and nothing. You missed him. "'m sorry." - You added, stopping in your tracks. Johnny halted alongside you, watching the two of you ogling back and forth, Simon's eyes boring into you with unmatched intensity. If you'd let him, his eyes would probably devour you whole. Johnny let out a quiet whistle, waiting for you to be done with your small moment. Cassie proclaimed how she's positive Simon is into you and that you might be interested in him... But seeing it unravel in front of his eyes was adorable.

Your eyes never left Simon's face, your palm gently holding onto his forearm. You were standing inappropriately close - Simon could feel your breast bumping into his arm each time you took a breath. If you were anyone else (Nelly, for example), Ghost would've already shown you out of his personal space - but the guy did nothing, even took an almost unnoticeable step closer. The bloody bastard that reached an impressive 6'4 in height seemed to grow smaller and gentler in your presence, his eyes filled to the brim with warmth and adoration - why two you weren't dating yet was beyond Soap, truly. "Nothin' to be sorry about, love. You go and enjoy yourself now, yeah?" "I'll catch you later."

Moments later, you found yourself in a fit of laughter over Johnny's interpretation of 'California Gurls'. You loved everything about it - the false confidence he radiated despite not having any semblance of musical hearing, his inability to match his tone to the note progression and his horrible timing. The chorus, however, was something to behold - neither of you tried to sing, knowing the chorus by heart (thanks to this song being in the radio on a fucking loop), you simply yelled it into each other's faces, bouncing around and hyping each other up. Price didn't even cover the phone - he immortalized each second of your moving performance, sending it to Cassie the moment he ended recording. Cassie and Nelly were crying, losing it the moment you did your best to imitate Snoop Dog - Gaz appeared to be severely traumatized, cracking a grin when the hellish screeching finally stopped.

"Bloody hell, this was one of the best decisions of my life." - Price muttered, drying his cheeks. He meant it, none of them laughed this hard in the last few weeks. Cass was dragging him to sing their rendition of Take Me Out. - "I'm playin' this on your bloody wedding, sarge. Stellar." These two picked out Franz Ferdinand as their band of choice, dramatically portraying each lyric - alcohol and good company always made John pipe down, relax and sometimes, on extremely rare occasions, do rather silly and inappropriate things you wouldn't see a military skipped doing... Just as jumping around to the riff of 'Take Me Out'. "That's my fiancé! I taught my bonnie lass to listen to good fucken' music!" - Johnny explained, listening to the opening chords. You knew it, of course, it was well-known, but Johnny's sudden burst of pride made you stare at him with mouth agape. Thankfully, Kyle and Ghost to the rescue.

"Johnny can get a wee bit patriotic." - Kyle explained as the Scotsman jumped around in the rhythm, making you a bit terrified. "Uh-uh." - Ghost nodded, confirming. - "Hates us 'fucking lunatics', meaning Brits, according to his own words. Everyone except you and Cass according to his latest statement. Love that about the chap, though." "What does patriotism have to do with... Fucking anything?" - At that moment, Johnny started screaming the words with the same "grace" he sang California Gurls with. It looked both scary and funny at the same time. "The band is Scottish, you see?" - Kyle explained. "Heard him swearin' he'd plunk any uncultured swine who'd tarnish their rep." - Ghost added, taking a good swing of his whiskey. "Hillarious..." - Kyle added, clinking his glass with yours, kicking all the remnants in. "Scary." - You hummed, moving out of the way for Kyle to comfortably leave the table.

"On the topic of Johnny... Looked good out there. Didn't know you're such a talented singer." - Ghost murmured as you watched the trio, enchanted with how silly they acted. "You're fucking with me now, aren't you?" "I'm serious - wasn't as bad as I expected. Enjoyed every second of your brilliant performance." "If you enjoyed that, your musical hearing is fucked, buddy, sorry to inform you. Anywho, what will you sing?" "Oh, I'm just here for fun and banter. I don't do singing." "Don't be a party popper. C'mon." "And have you poking fun at me for the rest of my life? No, thank you." - Thankfully, he was saved by Nelly - she was asking for help with moving and assembling some furniture at her new place. Both Gaz and Ghost agreed to take a look at it whenever she needed them to.

His streak of not 'taking part in singing at karaoke' was challenged not even two hours later. The party had moved from drinks to shots - you were more courageous, not taking no for an answer. You, Cass and Nelly even had the first round of ugly crying of the night under your belts, crying about how you should've rekindled the friendship way sooner - at this, all the gentlemen decided to go for a smoke break, leaving Kyle behind as your nanny. As soon as Price got back, you were on his ass - sighing about him being one of the most handsome blokes you've ever met. Price could only choke out an amused: - "Why, thank you, miss." - before laughing his ass off at your drunk expression. You were standing in front of Simon now, your palm extended to him, chin risen ever so slightly. The expression you had was dangerous - determined and cocky.

"You need anythin'?" - Ghost prompted, grinning at the sight. He'd downed two glasses of whiskey by that point, the bourbon delicately burning in his chest. "Yah. You, me, the stage, now." - It wasn't a question nor a wish, it was an order. Simon's eyes narrowed as he smiled, darkening ever so slightly. He liked it when you were bossy. Cass, unbeknownst to your knowledge, bumped Johnny's shoulder, the duo now shamelessly staring at you. The rest of the table was engaged in a conversation as Price and Kyle told the ladies some of the less confidential stories. "I don't do singing, already told you when you asked." "Too bad I'm not asking. Move your ass, I spent ten fuckin' minutes looking for our song." "Our song?" - Simon whispered, all the air suddenly kicked out of his lungs. Of course, he knew what song you had in mind - the one playing when he worked on the chicken broth. Ashamedly, Simon had to admit he memorized each word, each chord because he had it playing on a loop in his headphones before going to sleep. "C'mon, mate. Make an exception, just for once - won't kill ya to sing. Poor lass barely hit the right keys." - Soap chimed in, his strong Scottish accent overwhelming the conversation - everyone's eyes were on you now, waiting for Simon to finally take your fucking hand. "Shit was kinda blurry, 's right." - You admitted, still waiting for Simon to take your hand. It wasn't a shame to admit you barely recognized a from m at this point, the alcohol kicked in big time.

His palm caught yours, slipping around it like a glove... As if your hands were moulded to be held by this, fitting like two pieces of a fucking puzzle. Getting you onto the improvised stage was a task in itself - you've stuttered on your way up and if it wasn't for Simon's hands catching your shoulders, you'd fall square on your face. "Who's singing Willow's part?" - Simon wondered as you offered him his microphone - your eyes darted next to his head as if you were trying to determine which of the Ghosts in front of you was the real one. "You, duh. Bet you're rocking luscious, beautiful curls under that mask 'f yours." "Fuckin' close 'nough, I guess." - The guy laughed, shaking his head at you - your drunk form was absolutely fucking adorable. If he'd have to describe it, you looked like a mischievous little devil. "Hit it, Jack!" - You exclaimed, pointing in Johnny's direction - Cassie was kneeling in front of the table with her phone at the ready, determined to catch every second of what was coming. Fuck, Simon realized, he'll have this on his plate for the foreseeable future. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" - Soap answered with matching intensity, saluting as he his 'play'. The known base filled the silent lounge, having everyone staring at you with their breaths batted - you were swaying in the rhythm, your moves far from graceful but you were clearly enjoying yourself, lost in the moment.

You didn't know what you were expecting - Simon was a well-built man with 6'3 height under his belt, his voice naturally guttural and gruffly, clouded with a thick British accent. While you braced yourself to hear the most horrible hellish screeching imaginable, Simon's singing almost gave you a heart attack and swept Johnny off his drunk feet. Ghost sounded like an angel. All of you stared at the man in disbelief as he poured his fucking soul into the lyrics, hitting each fucking note perfectly. His interpretation of your favourite song was what you wanted to listen to over and over, selfishly wishing you'd record it. Simon had to poke your shoulder to make you realise it was your turn to sing - hastily, you joined him during the chorus, surprising your small audience even further.

Your singing wasn't bad, but not Grammy-worthy either - and yet, hearing you two harmonize was magical. Soon, you'd forget about your friends at the table, staring at each other while singing your hearts out. His eyes hadn't moved from yours, the man sang each line as if he meant it - it made your heart beat heavily in your chest. For Simon, it wasn't just singing - each line of the song had a meaning. It was one of his silly little wishes it could become your reality where you'd met earlier in your lives. In this universe, you'd be just two young adults falling in love, meeting up so you'd forget all about the stress and anxiety tying you down in each other's arms.

In that reality, Simon could be enough for you and you'd be enough for yourself. You wouldn't feel the need to stick around guys who weren't good for you, you wouldn't receive extortive mail, and you wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't cover his face because he couldn't stand to look himself in the eye, neither because he was protecting his identity. In this reality, William wouldn't exist. You'd have your spot in each others' arms, falling asleep feeling safe. In this reality, you could lead a happy, day-to-day life. There was a small moment when the song finished, a glimpse of a second when Simon almost kissed you. Your expression was adoring, glimmering with happiness and pure, unconditional love - the microphone dropped by your hip, and you were staring into his eyes, taking a small step closer. The whole moment was ruined by Nelly getting up, clapping and whistling cheerfully, others following suit - not bad for Si's karaoke debut, Cassie had to admit.

As you stumbled away from Simon's reach, you stumbled on your feet again, falling flat on the ground this time. - "Fuck." "Aight, missy, 's 'nough for you tonight. I'll take you home, yeah?" "Noooo, Ghoooost..." - You whined dramatically as he helped you over to the table, sitting you down. - "The party just started, man. We can't leave now." "You tell that to your toilet later. Price?" - Ghost called out, catching his skipper's attention. - "Can you look after Miss Diva for a second? Gotta go to the bog." "You got it, kid."

It couldn't have taken more than five minutes to take a piss, Simon rushed the entire process to be back as soon as possible. And yet, you were gone when he made it back - your coat disappeared from the hanger, your purse gone too. Jesus fucking Christ. You were giving him a run for his money. "Where is she?" - Simon demanded, burning a hole in Price's forehead. Five fucking minutes. He was meant to look after you for five fucking minutes. "Y/N got some sort of a text and said she has to leave immediately. Who am I to stop her? She's an adult. Can make her own bloody decisions." "I was just about to walk her home." "Then you should've said so. Hadn't caught that." "Right."- Ghost fumed out, turning to Cassie. - "Can you give me her number?" "Yeah, of course, let me text it to you. Want help with finding her?" "You go and enjoy the rest of the night." "Si!" - Cassie cried out as Simon turned on his heels, following him immediately. - "I'm sorry, but John's right. We weren't listening in and Y/N's a grown-up..." "It's fine, Cass. I'll find her."

You couldn't have made it far - in the state you were in, on your wobbly and unsteady legs? No way in hell you'd make it even around the block. What worried Simon, however, was the park to his right hand. The man hoped you had enough reason not to walk through it. The first thing he heard was a hiccup before you drunkardly mumbled your name, doing your best impression of being sober. "'s me. Where have you fuckin' disappeared to?" "Me? I know a lot of mes, sir. My mum told me not to talk to strangers. S-Stranger fuckin' danger an' all that, yannow?" "It's Ghost, Y/N, you slipped out of the karaoke bar. Where the hell are you, woman?" "Awwww, hiiiii. I didn't know *hiccup* you had my number?" "Got it from Cass. Can you spill the tea?" "'m on my way home." - You explained as if it weren't obvious. - "The mood for partying kinda dropped to zero, decided I gotta go check on my adorable little doggo. I missed my sweet little princess." "That's all sweet. What do you see around you?" - Thankfully, you were drunk enough not to catch onto his plan of finding you and started to talk about your surroundings. For once, Simon was grateful for drunk people being gullible and honest.

"Trees. Lots of 'em. 's kinda dark around but I'm pretty sure some food *hiccup* in the distance. Yep, right up the vein!" "Dearie, don't say this sort'f stuff so loud, yeah?" - Simon asked, turning on his heels towards the park. He could hear you giggle on the other end, the sweet sound making him grin. - "What's that about?" "Dearie is cute 'n all, but I like it when you call me love. Makes me weak in my knees 'n all." - You admitted, stuttering over your words as you tee-heed again as if you told Simon some well-guarded secret. As if Simon didn't already know. "'kay love, tell me more about your surroundings, I'm on my way to get you. Can call you love for the rest of the night if you'd fancy that." "Ohmygod..." - You sighed swiftly, chuckling at the prospect ahead. Ghost tenderly whispering 'love' the whole night sounded like a fucking dream come true. - "You'd *hiccup*... You'd like to do that?" "Wished to do so for the longest time, love."

"I can see a bistro and some... Fuckin' statue. Whatever the fuck that's *hiccup* supposed to be, it's scary." "Any benches in the area?" - Even though your description was far from eloquent, Simon knew the place you had in mind. It was a small takeaway coffee selling baked goods and hot drinks to go. He hadn't visited it, but Cass mentioned it here and there because it wasn't far from her workplace and she enjoyed going there on her lunch break. The statue, if he wasn't mistaken, was representing either Shakespeare or Peter Pan, but Simon was unable to recall it correctly at the moment. As he suspected, you didn't get far at all. "Quite a lot. Fuck, I think it's some sort'f a square or somethin'." "Sit down for me, love, I'll be there soon. Stay with me on the phone for now, yeah?" "But I miss Bonnie soooo much, Ghost, I just wanna..." - He could hear as you struggled to sit down and fell onto the bench beats later. It was hard to make out what you precisely wanted to do to Bonnie, but he could hear some humming and kisses here and there. - "She's home all alone, my poor baby." "Not for long now, I swear, we'll take off as soon as I find you. How you're feelin'?" "Haven't thrown up yet. 's a good sign, no?" "Look at you. Quite impressive given everything you've poured down your throat." "I can handle my *hiccup* fuckin' alcohol." "You sure can..." - Simon answered breathlessly, finally reaching the spot - he could see your silhouette splayed all over the bench, your coat undone, your purse lying right next to you. - "You sure can, love." - He said as he approached, having you sit up straight faster than lightning. Your expression started beaming with blissful happiness the second you laid your eyes on him.

"Hi, Ghost!" - You squealed, shoving the phone into your purse, not caring to end the call. - "You look good tonight. *hiccup* Have I told you that already?" "Not that I can recall, no. Lookin' beautiful yourself." "Now you're just making shit up, I'm fuckin' wasted, dude. Drunk people never look sexy, 's what I always said anyway." "You look amazing all the time, love, without a fail. C'mon now, let's get you home." "You mean that?" - You whispered, your eyes glued to his as he helped you to stand your feet. Without his arm around your waist guiding you forward, you'd be fucked. Everything was blurry and multiplied, you couldn't say which trees were real and which were just a fragment of your imagination. "Never meant anything more in my life. Even in the most worn-out sweatpants you own. Let me take you home now, you sexy beast." "Never say that again. Sexy beast? Love's so much better. Jesus." "Your wish is my command, ma'am." - Ghost muttered sweetly, leading you towards the bus stop. Both of you were laughing, you were right - 'sexy beast' was the most horrid-sounding pet name that ever graced Simon's lips.

As mentioned before, Simon hated being the centre of attention - everything about that made the hair on his arms stand in pure displeasure. He hated when people stared at him, fearing that he was a threat; he just wished to blend into the crowd and remain unseen and unnoticed. Let's just say... That being unnoticed in a packed double-decker in central London with a giggling, drunken mess in his arms was near impossible. For once, however, Simon wouldn't change for the world - it was endearing to feel you grasping his jacket, nuzzling yourself closer so you wouldn't fall on some stranger in such a confined space. Watching and feeling your head leaning to his chest with a confined smile, taking a relaxed breath - smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. He'd imagined this so many times. Even though the circumstances were far from perfect, everything about it made Simon happy. He'd come to rescue you from any party you'd go to just to feel the fuzzy warmth bubbling in his chest again.

When you finally arrived at your flat, the first thing you did was turn into a whiney mess - instantly, you were on your knees, your clothes leaving very little to Simon's imagination. You burrowed your head in Bonnie's fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As he locked the door behind you, Simon simply hoped it was happy, let it be ugly, crying. "She's... She's so perfect." - You sobbed, pulling Bonnie close to your chest as you looked up to Simon, your make-up absolutely ruined by that point. The dog was clueless and didn't know what was happening - it simply licked your chin feverishly, welcoming you home. - "She's the best thing in my life right nooooow..." - And now, you were whaling. Great. Drunk women were the most ferocious and dangerous creatures in the universe - Simon was adamant about that. - "I love her soooo fucking much." "Absolutely correct, love, she's our perfect little girl. How about we clean your face and change you to more comfortable clothes?" Simon whispered, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Seriously, he needed you to change your clothes ASAP - he'd love anything else but watching your figure and curves (the current view alone was bringing Simon many indecent thoughts)... But drunk fucking wasn't something Riley would be interested in - if the two of you were going to have sex, it would be sober and with full consent. The man prayed to whatever gods up there to make you change into the baggiest sweatpants and shirt you had lying around to cool off his libido. As you crawled out of your bedroom in a Bristle Bears jersey with biker shorts under, the crisis was, thankfully, averted.

Twenty minutes later, you splattered over your sofa - the TV was playing in the background as you sat with your face turned to Simon. He gently ran at least the 20th makeup wipe over your face with the utmost gentleness he could muster, concentration knitting his eyebrows together. He even took the liberty of making you a cup of tea, God bless him.

The window was crooked open, the rest of his cig slowly burning out in an improvised ashtray you crafted for him. That was when Simon noticed yet another wave of tears in your eyes. "What is it, love? Did I poke your eye on accident?" "No, that's not it. Thank you for being so nice to me." - You sobbed, first tears rolling down your cheeks. Simon sighed, doing his best to keep his inner peace balanced - seeing you cry for the millionth time was both soul-crushing and tiring at the same time. "'s nothin', trust me. What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?"

"You." - It was just a whisper, but it made Simon straighten up - his head slightly tilted this shoulder, his eyebrows cocked in confusion. - "Ehm, I meant, your face. You're being so nice to me, take care of me even though you don't have to, spend your free time in that damn flower shop with me even though all I can offer is my company..." "But your company's enough for me, trust..." "... And I don't even know *sob* what you look like." - You whinced, wiggling away from his palm. You were doing your best to stop the childish tantrum, even bent your head backwards and tried pushing the tears back in. - "It just... Doesn't feel fair, yannow? I know you have your reasons for covering your face. I know I'm acting like an absolute asshole over something so minuscule right now. Do you realize how stupid I feel for crushing on someone whose face I hadn't seen? I'd recognize your eyes anywhere, but I'd like to see more. And no matter what, I can't stop wishing to see more, even though I know it won't ever happen. Like... You hadn't told me what your name is, I just got your number because you were pissed at me, you never talk about yourself, or share details... And me crying about it is the stupidest and most selfish thing fucking ever because I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to respect your fucking privacy..."

Simon didn't move for a few beats, tuning out whatever you were ranting about - not that he didn't want to listen, but because the simple confession stole his breath away. What did you just say? Crushing? You had a crush on him? Simon was ready to outright propose if you'd like to, right there on your sofa, to your whiney, drunk ass. Confirming you had true feelings for him was marvellous, stopping his mind from wondering whether just flirted around, making him out to be just a nice little distraction. You weren't. As he processed the information, he couldn't help but chuckle - the sound halted your crying and whining immediately. If you had asked him any other time, Simon would've most likely denied the request outright... But since you were both drunk, the liquid courage was making him less self-aware and more confident. Why not? Why shouldn't he just go for it? Take his chances with you?

"... And I even asked Cassie about you even though I knew I shouldn't... I'm such a fucking prick, bloody hell." "That's what you're cryin' your pretty eyes out about?" - Simon asked, completely detached from whatever you were going about for the last few minutes. "I mean... *sob* I know it's selfish 'n all, but I'd say... Fuck! Yannow, some guys on the telly said that non-verbal communication makes up to 70% of all human interactions." "All you gotta do is ask, pretty girl." - Simon murmured, his breath growing shallow - his heart was beating so fast as if it were to burst out of his fucking chest, pressure raising rapidly as he realized the insanity of what was he was about to do. He'd push the baklava off his face if his palms weren't a sweaty, trembling mess. "Ghost, I beg you - can I see what you look like?" "Take it off yourself, love."

Gently scooping closer to him, you pumped your fingers a few times to stop them from shaking. Your adrenaline shot through the roof, and you started dragging your fingers on his shoulders, slowly working your way to his neck - giving him time to process your touch and get used to the stimuli. His body felt scorching under your touch, his pulse fast under the tips of your fingers. His eyes were closed, breathing unsteady, muscles tensed up unnaturally. You could see Ghost's palm clinging to the back of your couch, his fingers buried in with a force that turned his knuckles white. As you finally started peeling the baklava off, his body shuttered, leaning away from you. As if it was an unconscious reaction, Simon didn't spend any time before sliding back within comfortable reach, already missing the comfort of your touch. "You sure it's okay for you?" "Mhm. Just keep goin'. Don't stop - if you stop, it'll kill me, darling." - Simon muttered, securing himself in place. His leg was lazily thrown over your waist so you'd sit puzzled together, Bonnie sleeping wedged into the small space. He wanted you to see. Simon wished to look you in the eyes without covering his face. He finally wished you to experience and feel all the love and adoration brewing within him. "Okay."

Much to his dismay, you were taking your bloody time, tearing the material off so agonizingly slow - one hand was lifting the fabric, your dominant hand gently caressing every inch of the newly discovered skin. Your eyes tried to memorise it all in case you wouldn't see it again - the dent in his chin, his fawn stubble, the sharp outline of his jaw, sharp contours of his cheeks, his plush and full lips and even the ugly scar reaching from his upper lip to his left nostril. Your caresses worshipped his hooked nose, the sweet dark spots under his eyes, and all the freckles standing out on his upper cheeks thanks to the area being exposed to the sun more than the rest of his place. He could feel your touches moulding his skin gently, dragging your fingers on the ugly scar on his temple, carefully tugging on his soft dirty blonde hair - then, suddenly, the baklava was fully off. Simon felt it coming, but it still surprised him; so much so that he squished his lips into a tight line, as if he tried to hide from your eyes for even a second longer. Your hand discarded the baklava almost carelessly. Knowing you've thrown Simon's most precious shield on the ground left him utterly defenceless in your arms, at the mercy of your words and actions. And yet, there was no other place he'd rather be in the entire world.

"Ghost..." - Your voice grew meek with adoration and emotion, your palms still kneading his face. It was then that he finally allowed himself to peek at you, to see your expression. Your lips were parted slightly, your face flushed with heat, your eyes scanning him adoringly. Tears were dropping on your cheeks again. This time, Simon knew they were the result of the happiness you felt, therefore he didn't comment on them. Fuck, he felt like the luckiest and most handsome man walking the Earth.

"Hey there, dolly." - Gently, his lips brushed over the inner side of your palm before he leaned back into the touch. "You're so fucking beautiful. Bonnie, look." - Picking the dog up, you pointed at Simon's face and giggled, making Simon smirk right back at you. The dog yawned, licking its mouth and shaking its head - it wasn't interested in Simon's face to reveal in the slightest. - "He's perfect. Isn't he perfect? Tell him how fucking flawless he is, come on." "You don't mean that. That's the alcohol talking." - Simon chuckled while looking away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced a gulp down his throat. Embarrassment painted his cheeks bright pink. You made him blush, you realized, staring at him with your mouth agape. The triumph made you cackle.

The duality of Ghost left you speechless - a confident, 6'4 guy not to be messed around with the mask, snarky humour, and his physical presence overwhelming you every time. This Ghost? Giggly, happy, slightly drunk. You loved how comfortable he looked with legs puzzled around your waist, his right arm leaning into the sofa as he looked everywhere around the room instead of you. You adored every inch of his dark pink blush and the entire universe that exploded, establishing itself behind his eyes. So this was the man you loved, the one you pinned after for the last few months? You loved every inch of him. Even if he'd look utterly different, you'd still be enchanted.

"Piss drunk people are always honest." - You admitted, caressing his upper arm. Were you staring? Probably. Was it making Ghost uncomfortable or flattered? Hard to tell. Could you be stopped? No. When will you get another chance like this, to fawn over his beauty in its full glory? He was everything you imagined... And much more than that.

"... I really like it when you blush." - It was a careful admission, but you meant it. You put Bonnie down on your lap again, leaning your elbow into the couch right next to his arm, so you could stare at him more comfortably. "... And I really like you." - Simon spilt without giving it too much thought, immediately realizing what he'd just said. Well, as Price often said, in for a penny - in for a pound. This was the night of admissions and confessions... At least it was turning out to be. And each little confession felt natural, lifting heaviness off his shoulders. You knew. You must've known by now. And yet, finally admitting to it felt uplifting. "I just want you to know that if I was bold enough, I'd kiss you right now, Ghost..." "Simon." - The man whispered, shutting you off. Hearing his government name lit your face up. An amazed sigh left your lips as you connected his name to his appearance, burning it into the back of your head. - "It's Simon Riley... My name's Simon Riley. I should've told you way sooner."

"Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon..." - You chanted as if you hadn't heard a more beautiful word before. Biting your lip, your hand has risen to his cheek again, cupping it gently. Hearing his own name falling off your lips like that was heavenly. - "A name for an angel rather than for a Ghost. I like that name. It suits you." "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am." - Simon didn't like it. The name reminded him of his old man way too much, connecting him to a troubled family tree, to the people who turned him into what he was. He wasn't willing to ruin the moment you shared, however. If you said his name's nice... It must've been. "And may I?" - You whispered, staring at his lips. Simon licked his lips expectedly, nodding to let you know it's fine, that he wants it too. He put his hand on your waist, holding you in place as he scooped you closer - you were puzzling himself into his arms as if you belonged there forever, being that one little silly puzzle piece he'd lost before he was born. Your knees wrapped around his waist as you palmed his t-shirt, steadying your position.

You were both taking your time, giggling excitedly, blissed with disbelief. Your breathing was tickling Simon's face, making Simon's smile widen. Your eyes closed as you positioned your elbow around his shoulders, your nails gently scratching his scalp. So close... He was so close. Your noses bumped together, warm skin dragging across each other, your breath finally stabilizing as you got ready for the final stretch. Simon could feel your lips brush against his... But the kiss didn't come. It never came, in fact. The moment Simon opened his eyes to deduce what was wrong, a snore cut through the comfortable silence in your apartment. At first, it shut Simon off. He was staring at you, holding his palms on your shoulder blades, playing with the ends of your hair - until he started laughing quietly.

He wasn't upset, God forbid angry with you. You were trolled, in the end, drinking way more than you should - he half expected to be holding your hair for you by this point of the night. Even though you hadn't really touched the first base, this night turned into everything Simon wished for. This was just his luck - the lady holding his heart in a headlock dozing off before anything happened. "She's knackered." - Simon whispered towards Bonnie lying on the ground. The cutesy dog had no idea what he was saying, but she was excited enough to nuzzle and nibble on his ankle. - "I know, sweet girl, I know. Let me put mommy to bed, and then we'll set out for a walkie, yeah?" - The man ushered as he started folding you into his arms bridal style. Upon the word 'walkie', Bonnie growled and whimpered excitedly, almost wiggling her tail off. - "Hush, you little furry beast."

The duo spent half an hour walking outside on a cold night, Simon taking his bloody time smoking a few cigarettes to calm down. Bonnie was doing her own thing, carrying various sticks to him so they could play fetch. As soon as the door to your flat opened and Bonnie's paws got cleaned, the dog sped into your bedroom, nuzzling to you - all you did in response was throw your hand over her, grunting displeasantly. Before leaving, Simon quickly put together a note.

'Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. Prepared some coffee and painkillers for you on the counter. Text me when you wake up. Love, - Simon'

#simon riley #simon riley x fem!reader #ghost cod #ghost x fem!reader #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john price #141 cod #task force 141 #cod: mw #here we go agaiiin #this one was a struggle to finish #i love how the ending turned out tho #they are such a cute lil mischevious pair

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sethcertified · 1 year

Text

「 SCREAM FOR YOU ! 」 . . . 📁 08

scream : billy loomis, stu macher

wrd count : 3k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . when [name] and stu meet up with billy at the video store, they defend his honor when arguing with randy

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . billy loomis, stu macher, & male reader

My fingers traced the spine of the movie cases as I paced through the horror aisle. There were so many options. I just couldn't make up my mind. I could pick a classic, go down the underground route, or even pick something so gross and grotesque it scares everyone at the party off, so it's just me, Billy, and Stu.

And probably Randy since he too had the same affinity for horror films. I doubt he would stop watching horror movies even if he was shot.

Speaking of Randy, he came rolling down the aisle on one of the store's rollers used for shelving. He turned to me with a brand new DVD of 'The Shining', "I've been saving this one just liked you asked."

I took the DVD from his hands and began to examine the case, "And this is the special director's cut, right? You know, Kubrick is my favorite director, so if it isn't-"

"Oh!" Stu screamed as he pushed some DVDs out of Randy's hand.

"Dork," Randy grumbled as Stu laughed while wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I relaxed back into Stu as I tried my best to hide my chuckles from behind the The Shining DVD.

"Jesus, this place is packed, man," Stu said as he scanned the place.

Randy picked up the DVDs that Stu had knocked over, "We had a run in the mass murder section."

"You know, I would think people would rather not think about mass murder now than ever," I replied.

Stu gave me a wicked grin, "Who knows, maybe they want to die in some mass murder orgy."

I kicked his shin, "Ew, Stu!"

"My bad! My bad! Anyways, Randy, you comin' to my fiesta?" Stu winced.

"Yeah, I'm off early. Curfew, you know?"

"Cool."

I glanced at Stu. Was he planning to murder Randy too? I knew he was never really fond of the guy, and my suspicions about Casey's murder were out of pure spite, so it wouldn't have been too out of character if that was the case.

A girl came up to Randy, drifting my attention away from my less-than-delightful thoughts to her, "What's that werewolf movie with E.T.'s mom in it?"

Stu and I shared a look of disgust at the mention of the movie. It was even worse than Jaws: The Revenge which was saying a lot. Stu moved to whisper in my ear as Randy directed the girl to where the movie was, "If she really wanted to watch a movie about a hairy beast she should just watch a Robin Williams movie."

"Robin Williams' is hot though," I whispered back.

"What."

"Nothing." I giggled.

Randy turned to us, "Oh, now that is in poor taste."

"What?" Stu said dumbly too distracted by our conversation to process what Randy had said. I was trying my best to hide my giggles at Stu's dumbfounded expression at my attraction to Robin Williams.

I tried my best to die down my giggles as I spoke to Randy, "Yeah, The Howling was awful."

"No! Billy!"

I furrowed my brows as I turned my head in Billy's direction. Since we had entered the store, Billy had wandered off elsewhere not saying much to me or Stu.

"What about him?" I asked.

Randy moved in closer to me, lowering his voice. Stu gripped my shoulder tighter, his protectiveness kicking in. I gave Stu's thigh an inconspicuous pat to comfort him. Randy was the last person I would ever be attracted to.

"If you were the only suspect in a senseless bloodbath, would you be standing in the horror section?"

Stu opened his mouth to respond but I butted in before he got the chance, "Randy, that's bullshit, and you know it. Anyone's a suspect, and practically everyone is in the horror section. You even said so yourself."

Stu nodded his head in agreement, "Besides, it was a misunderstanding. He didn't do anything."

"You're such a little lapdog," Randy barked, "And you," he turned his head towards me, "Since when do you defend Billy Loomis?"

I gritted my teeth. Randy was being such an asshole! Sure, Billy did do it, and we were, after all, straight up lying to his face, but it was different.

"I just don't think it's right to accuse someone who's been proven innocent."

"Oh please, he's got 'killer' printed all over his forehead," Randy replied.

Stu began to mock Randy which gave me immense joy, "Okay! Really?" Stu returned to the normal inflection of his voice before continuing, "Well, why'd the cops let him go, smart guy?"

"Because obviously, they don't watch enough horror movies. This is standard horror movie stuff. Prom Night revisited, man."

I scoffed at the statement, "Do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now? The police have more experience, training, and knowledge about catching killers than you do despite you thinking you do 'cause you like to watch girls with big tits run from psychos with a knife on a screen."

Stu let out a small, "Good one!" before questioning Randy's theory again, "Yeah? Why would he want to kill his own girlfriend?"

"There's always some stupid, bullshit reason to kill your girlfriend."

"And that's why you don't have one," I snickered. Stu laughed at my response while Randy was fuming, "You're one to talk, [Name]. You haven't had a girlfriend since Tessa Thompson in freshman year."

"If you haven't noticed, Randy, the girls are all over [Name] unlike you. He just rejects them because he wants a mature, college chick."

I stifled my giggles as Stu danced his fingers on the small of my back. Stu and I sharing my dirty little secret felt like a game or an inside joke that we only understood, and it was the most fun game I've played in a very long time. Knowing that we could pretend like our arms don't yearn to hold each other or that our eyes don't drift down to look at our lips in conversations, but rather that we were a playboy who had at least 2 girls on each side and a boy restraining himself from being a high school ladies' man because he thought that they were too immature for his genius. It was fun.

Randy just rolled his eyes at Stu's words, "Whatever, but that's the beauty of it all; simplicity. Besides, if it gets too complicated, you lose your target audience."

"Well, what's his reason?" Stu questioned.

I bit my lip in anticipation to see what Randy's inkling for Billy's reason was. There was no way he would guess that it was a ploy to get revenge on Sidney's mom. I let my bottom lip go at the thought. I was so confident in my investigation that I failed to realize that Billy's revenge left an open-ended question. What was he avenging by killing Sidney and her mom? My eyes drifted to where Billy stood to see he was not where he once stood in the horror section.

My head twisted and turned as I searched for the strikingly handsome boy. My eyes met his as he leaned against the wall near the mystery section heading towards Randy, Stu, and me. Billy gave me his signature panty-wetting smirk as he watched us.

I hit Stu's shoulder motioning towards Billy which he acknowledged subtly before we both turned to face Randy who was going to give us his best bet on why Billy would kill his girlfriend.

"Maybe she wouldn't have sex with Billy..."

Stu and I laughed as we followed Randy's small hobbles from the other side of the shelf.

"What, is she saving herself for you?" Stu jested.

Randy took a glance back, "Maybe. Now that Billy tried to mutilate her, do you think she would go out with me?"

Stu let out a comically large laugh as I felt my brain reel in the pure comedy of it all. Stu pulled me in close with his shoulder as he let out some chuckles, "No, I don't. Not at all. Besides, if there's anyone Sid would go out with, it's [Name]. The two have been pretty cozy lately."

My eyes were wide as Stu turned to me holding an air microphone while putting on a news reporter voice, "Is Sidney mature enough for you, [Name]? Would you like to pork her?"

My gaze hardened as my jaw clenched in anger. I slapped Stu's hand away, "Don't talk about her like that, okay? I'm not gonna pork her or any of that shit. I care about Sid. She's a good girl."

Stu's eyes softened, but I could feel the heavy swallow of saliva go down my throat as I stepped away from Stu's grasp. I could tell my distance hurt Stu, but he covered it up with his classic way of coping with humor, "You hear that, Randy? I think he's in love with her."

Randy looked down as Stu began to taunt him more, "Does that hurt your feelings? Does it, poor, poor, Randy-poo?"

Randy remained silent as so did I, so Stu turned to the next best thing to continue the conversation, "You know who I think it is?" There was a pause before he resumed, but both Randy and I were hooked into the conversation now, eager to know what or rather who he would name. Stu leaned in closer to Randy, "Yo, I think it's her father."

My eyes frantically darted across the carpeted floor as I tried to milk as much information as I could from Stu. I got one thing from that sentence alone. They were going to frame Sidney's father. My ears pricked toward Stu who was going on about Sid's father, "Why can't they find her pops, man?"

Randy didn't have the information as I did, so he took the information as the opposite of what it was; bullshit.

"Because he's probably dead," he dragged. Stu expressed his confusion, but my attention was focused on Billy who was now stalking us. He was quiet and discreet. A lion after the prey. No wonder, he hadn't been caught. He was good. A natural-born killer, no doubt.

But it seems I was the only one who was aware of Billy as Randy went on and Stu listened intently, "His body will come poppin' up in the last reel somewhere! Eyes gouged out, fingers cut off, teeth knocked out! The police are off-track with this shit!"

People were starting at Randy like he was a lunatic by now. Which to be fair, made sense. He was screaming about gouged-out eyes, cut-off fingers, and other bodily mutations in the middle of a video store. Stu tried to save the situation with a quick look around and a quiet, "Man!" to Randy.

But Randy was too far off in his own world to tone his volume down a few notches, "If they'd watch Prom Night, they'd save time!" Randy began to use his body to explain his frustration as he pushed the DVDs into his hands forward and his eyes practically popping out of their sockets, "There's a formula to it! A very simple formula! Everybody's a suspect!"

In unison, all the customers and staff stared at him as if he was a circus clown in a black-and-white mafia movie. Randy seemed to finally notice the attention he had drawn to himself as a red flushed his cheeks. Stu motioned for the audience to look away, which they did, luckily.

"I'm telling you, the dad's a red herring. It's Billy."

Randy backed up but was stopped by Billy holding tight onto his shirt, holding him in place, "And how do we know you're not the killer? Huh?"

Randy held a frightened look, but mine held one of attraction. Billy was hot when he was scary. Really, really hot. I glanced upwards at Stu and felt shock consume me. He held the same gaze I did toward Billy.

I watched as he moved behind Randh who was stuttering like there was no tomorrow. I watched as he bit his lip, and practically eye fucked Billy. My eye began to sting at the sight of how long and intense I was looking at Stu's expression.

My gaze darted to Billy who was threatening Randy, "Maybe your movie-freaked brain lost its reality button. You ever think of that?"

"You're absolutely right. I'm the first to admit it. If this were a movie, I'd be the prime suspect." Randy kissed-ass.

"That's right." Billy praised.

"And what would be your motive?" Stu egged on as he wiggled his finger against the canvas of Randy's neck.

My arousal and attraction toward him were growing, and out of pure confusion, I looked to Stu. He held a gaze of adoration to Billy that my confusion slipped away.

Stu felt the same way as I did.

Oh.

Oh my God.

What did this mean for us? For this weird, triad couple thing we had gotten into to. Did I have to choose between the two? Would Stu choose me? I wasn't sure anymore. Not of Stu.

But I buried my sentiments down. Not here. I couldn't talk about it to them here, so I just watched and listened to what the boys in front of me were saying.

Randy got out of the boys' grasp and spun to face Stu, "It's the millennium," He twisted back toward Billy, "Motives are incidental."

"Millennium. Hmm," Billy pondered. He turned to me, who was awkwardly standing off to the side while watching the three, "Millennium. I like that."

I just gave him a nod which he interpreted as to continue taunting Randy, I guess. He pinched Randy's nose, "That's good. It's the millennium." He patted Randy's cheek mockingly as he motioned to me to follow him. I did as Stu lingered behind still mumbling something to Randy.

I caught up with Billy who just grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out the door with him. We stood out front, waiting for Stu. My fingers wrapped around Billy's, and I snuck my hand into his.

Stu waltzed out the door with a proud grin present on his face. He made his way to us, "Are my favorite boys in the whole wide world ready to enter my private man cave?"

I let out a chuckle at the pure stupidity of Stu which Billy shared. I glanced at Billy from my peripherals and found he was doing the same. We held eye contact, neither of us daring to look away.

"Can you guys stop with the eye sex, please? I already had to watch you guys making out." Stu groaned.

I felt the blood rush to my face as I let out an awkward cough, trying to hide my crumbling dignity. Billy just rolled his eyes at Stu as he let out, "Don't even try to pretend like you didn't enjoy seeing us make out."

Stu simply just shrugged his shoulders, "I liked it better when [Name] was making out with me."

I raised my hands in defeat, "And I liked making out with you both! Can we please move on?"

Stu crept up behind me and lifted me in the air by my waist, "Don't be embarrassed, baby. You're gonna keep making out with us in the future so chill."

I hit Stu in the head, "You might just give me herpes if I make out with you any time soon."

Billy laughed as Stu whimpered and set me down. I let out a small cheer of triumph at regaining my footing before Stu snuck up on me and began tickling my sides. I screamed for Billy to help me escape Stu, but he just watched giddily at my misery.

I launched forward away from Stu and was able to break free. I pointed at Stu as I caught my breath, "I am so getting you back for that."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?" Stu teased.

"Uh," I tried my hardest to come it with a threat up to par, but my mind drew blanks, "it's a secret."

Stu cushioned himself next to me, slowing his pace down, so he could walk comfortably next to Billy and me, "Whatever you say." I elbowed Stu which Billy chortled at.

My eyes lit up at hearing Billy letting out anything that wasn't threats or meaningless flirts. I snapped my fingers at Billy, "Dude, did you see the way Randy was kissing your ass!"

"Yeah, man! He was shaking so bad!" Stu joined me.

Billy nodded as he gave Stu and me a toothy grin, "You should've seen the look [Name] was giving me when I was at it." My hands cupped Billy's mouth, "Don't you dare!"

Billy motioned for Stu to help him break free from my forced muffling of Billy. I fell against Stu's broad chest as he held me there like a prisoner.

"His eyes were practically ripping my clothes off. They were just screaming, 'fuck me!' man."

I felt my head fall against Stu's shoulder as he dragged my feet against the cement. The embarrassment was killing me. Sure, I was technically in a relationship with the boys now, but the topic of any romantic let alone sexual interactions made me shrivel up and die.

"You're killing him, Bill!" Stu quipped. I nodded my head in agreement as I pleaded with Billy to save me from the humiliation. Billy tugged me away from Stu as he let out a breathy, "Okay."

I covered my face with my hands trying to hide how flustered I was. Billy had done a number on my ego with just two sentences, and now, I would have to spend the rest of the night with him at this party that I didn't even want to go to.

It would be a long night, and I knew zero about what was ahead of me except for one thing; I needed to rewatch Prom Night.

✎ notes . . . yes, this is a repost. tumblr deleted my old acc >:( ⟡ . ⛪ ◦ ✺ 07 ⇿ 09

#☆ — sethcertified #☆ — scream for you #x male reader #male reader #scream #scream x male reader #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x male reader #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher x male reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader

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dreamcatcher92 · 3 months

Text

Coercion Chapter Four

So this is my second smut story that I have been working on. I am hoping you all enjoy!

It is a bit dark. Yes, Billy Russo is of course our main character aside from a girl named Cassidy. Who is completely made up and meant to be played by the reader. The other characters that are mentioned in this story are made up as well and not based on anyone in particular. I did this one differently than my first story, but I wanted to switch up my writing style a bit. So you may see more differences in other stories to come. Things that are bold and italicized are thoughts.

Now for some warnings for the entire story but necessarily in the current chapter you read: dark Billy for sure, non-con, dub-con, kidnapping, NSFW, 18+, smut, sex, rape, attempted rape, physical violence, abusive behavior, language. I think that covers it, but sorry if I missed something.

Read at your own risk.

Days had passed and each day, things seemed to get better and better. Cassidy kept thinking that this was so strange because here she is living with a man that she does not know and who literally bought her from her kidnappers, yet she feels somewhat comfortable around him. Could this be some sort of trick? But what would he be tricking her to do? So many thoughts raced through her head at lightning speed.

She snapped out of her thoughts suddenly because as she sat up in bed, she could smell the scent of bacon in the air. Eggs and toast too? Her mouth started watering and a childhood memory began to flood her brain.

Every morning when she was a little girl, her mother would always have a huge breakfast spread ready for Cassidy and her sister Olivia to devour before starting their day. She had an amazing mother who did everything she could for her girls and a caring older sister that always watched out for her. Even though Olivia was only two years older than Cassidy, she felt like it was her duty to make sure nothing happened to her sister.

Cassidy’s father left when she was three and was never really in her life. He would send cards and letters, but never came around or made the effort to spend time with his daughters. Cassidy didn’t know much about him other than he was an alcoholic, used drugs, and left her mother to be with another woman he met one night at a bar.

All was well until one day when Cassidy was fourteen. Olivia had stayed home from school sick that day, so Cassidy was stuck walking home alone from school. She was listening to her portable CD player, singing along to the songs on Avril Lavigne’s new album.

She was in her own little world, when two police cruisers and an ambulance went rushing by her with sirens blaring. She didn’t think much of it because she didn’t live in the nicest of neighborhoods. Being that her mom had to work two part-time jobs just to make ends meet, she found the safest place she could to raise her daughters alone. However, as years passed and the girls grew, the neighborhood began to get worse and worse.

When she turned the corner onto her street, she saw that the police officers and ambulance were at her house. Mom?! Livvy?! She took off running as fast as she could toward the flashing red and blue lights.

“Woah, woah, woah! You can’t go past the yellow tape hun.” an officer said to her as he grabbed her and held her back.

She fought him hard, “I live here!! Where is my mom?! Where is my sister?! Please! Let go of me!”

“Shit.” the officer looked at her tearfilled eyes and looked around to find someone to help him with her.

“WHAT HAPPENED!” she screamed.

A female officer came sprinting over to help her partner. She spun Cassidy around and gripped her shoulders. She couldn’t help but to tear up when she saw the fear on Cassidy’s face.

“Sweetie, you need to take a breath and calm down just a bit, okay?” she said as calmly as she could.

Cassidy shook her head, “No! Tell me what is going on! Please ma’am! I just want my mom!”

Officer’s ended up taking her down to the police station to get her away from the crime scene. They did not want her to see the gruesome scene that was left behind in the house. Eventually, two women walked into the room where Cassidy sat hugging her knees. One woman was the police officer from earlier and the other was a state social worker with Child Protective Services.

They sat down with Cassidy and explained to her that her father, in an impaired state, broke into the family home that morning just before her mother had left for work. He shot her mother and sister to death and then turned the gun on himself. He left behind a note explaining that all he wanted was for his family to be together again forever, and that he was sorry to Cassidy that she wasn’t there to go with them to Heaven.

“Cass?” Billy said, causing Cassidy to jump and come out of the horrific trance that she was in.

“Billy! I’m s-sorry! I was…I was..”

“Hey, hey. You okay?” he said as he sat down on the side of the bed with her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

She couldn’t look at him, “F-fine. I’m fine. Just thinking of something from when I was little is all.”

He pulled her closer to him and brushed a tear from her cheek, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

She told him the story and how the smell of breakfast made her remember. She explained to him that it was nothing that he did, and that she would be okay. He smiled after hearing this and hugged her tight.

“How about we go eat before it gets too cold, huh?” he said, still holding her tightly against his chest.

She grinned, “Okay.”

As they ate, she couldn’t help but think that maybe this whole situation would be okay. They finished eating and Billy explained to her that she would need to do chores today. Dishes, laundry, and dusting were on her list today while he worked in his office for a while to get caught up on some things.

Cassidy placed the dishes into a sink full of hot soapy water to let them soak while she loaded the washer with Billy’s clothes. After finishing with the dishes, she checked to see if the washer was finished, but it still had two more cycles to go through. So, she decided to start dusting things in the living room. This was the first time Billy had asked her to do this chore in the almost two weeks that she had been there.

While dusting, she hummed a tune and focused on getting everything spotless for Billy. She was going down the items on the fireplace mantel and was not paying attention like she should have been. After wiping off what looked to her like some sort of small ashtray with writing inside in a language she didn’t know, she sat it back onto the mantel. However, the rag caught on the tiny ashtray and it fell to the ground shattering into shards of glass.

The entire house was completely silent, so when the ashtray crashed to the floor, it echoed throughout the rooms. Cassidy began to shake. What have you done!? She began to shake even more when she looked over to see a very pissed off Billy Russo standing there staring daggers into her.

“B-Billy. I-I…” was all she could mutter.

Billy said nothing as he swiftly walked over to Cassidy and backhanded her across the face causing her to fall hard to the floor. She let out a gasp as she felt the blow and fell. She began to cry and looked up at Billy in complete shock.

In a low devilish voice he said, “Do you have ANY idea what you’ve just done?”

“Please Billy! I didn’t mean to! I swear! It was an accident!” She cried out.

“I got that when I was fighting in Afghanistan.” He said as he pulled her off the floor and to her feet by her hair.

She grabbed his hands that held tightly onto the fistful of her hair and begged, “Please, I’m so sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Did you think just because we had a few good days that you wouldn’t have punishments anymore?!”

“No! I didn’t think that at all! I swear!”

“Clean this up. NOW!” He screamed into her face.

He released his grip on her hair and slapped her once more before beginning to walk away.

He paused at the start of the hallway, “When you’re done cleaning up the glass, come to my office. Understand?”

“Yes, Billy. I understand.” She said in a shaky voice.

Cassidy quickly cleaned up the mess and rushed down the hallway. She came to a grinding halt when she stood just outside Billy’s office door. She was so terrified of what could be coming for her once she walked inside the room.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. She heard Billy tell her to come in. She gently opened the door and stepped inside to see Billy standing beside his desk sipping on his favorite whiskey.

“Come here.” he said as he sat his cup down on his desk.

Cassidy obeyed his order and slowly walked over to him. She gradually lifted her head and looked into his dark eyes. He met her gaze with a scowl.

“Go over to that wall and place your hands flat against it above your head as high as you can reach.” Billy snarled as he gestured with his head where he wanted her to go.

Cassidy sheepishly looked at the wall, “Yes, Billy.”

She went over and placed her palms onto the cold wall. She reached her arms as high as they would go without being on her tiptoes. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as she waited for Billy to give her instructions on what else she needed to do.

He creeped up behind her, placed his hands on her hips, and whispered into her ear, “If you so much as lift a finger off this wall before I tell you to, I’ll cut them off one by one. Got it?”

Cassidy felt a wave of nausea sweep over her and she felt like she was going to pass out from how afraid she was right now. Would he really do that? She had no idea, but she was not about to fuck around to find out.

“Y-Yes Billy.” she whimpered as she frantically nodded her head.

Billy kissed her cheek and went back over to his computer. Cassidy was so uncomfortable and her arms began to go completely numb. She could no longer feel her fingertips after a few minutes. Billy would take breaks and sit back in his office chair. He would sip on his drink and watch Cassidy struggle.

After about thirty minutes, Billy stood up and began to walk over to where she stood. He grabbed Cassidy’s arms and gently lowered them. He turned her around to face him, but she was too afraid to look at him.

“Look at me Cass.” he demanded in a low voice.

She cautiously raised her head and met eyes with Billy. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she didn’t dare break eye contact.

Billy grabbed her chin with force, “That’s just a taste of the kind of discipline that you’ll have. That was just mild compared to what could happen if you act up or disobey me. Do you understand me?”

With her bottom lip quivering, Cassidy answered, “Y-yes Billy, I-I understand.”

“Good. In a few weeks, we’re going to be going into the city for a work party. I want to trust you, so you’re going to have to be a good girl for me and show me that I can trust you around people and going out in public. Think you can do that?” He asked while loosening his grip on her jaw.

“Yes! I can be a good girl Billy, I promise!” She said enthusiastically.

Cassidy wanted to prove to Billy that he could take her places. She wanted the calmness to come back into the house. She was going to do whatever it took so that Billy would trust her and that things could smooth back out.

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grey-sides · 2 years

Text

I'm a theorist at heart, so I'm going to postulate a reason for the vilification of Billy as a character relative to the other similarly aged men in the series.

Obviously many people within the harringrove and Billy fandom view him as potentially effeminate and perhaps less masculine than he is portrayed in the show. But within the context of the show, he is hyper-masculine and he is hated for it.

Casually in our society over the past twenty years or so, we have begun to vilify men as a reaction to the often pervasive issue of harassment, assault, and worse on women. This is a logical conclusion, but it has become watered down to simply hating masculine men and hating anyone who likes men. (IE, all bi girls like all girls and only some men- which is biphobic and untrue).

On the other hand, J0nathan and 3ddie look more feminine. 3ddie and Billy both have long hair, but 3ddie is thinner, wears layers, and is portrayed as more cowardly. These are very basic assumed traits of women in media, it's easy to latch onto that. And yes, it is reductive. I'm not passing judgement positively or negatively, it's just an observation. (A similar thing has happened with Luke Skywalker because by today's standards, he looks more androgynous or feminine, though he was masculine in the 80s)

St3ve is an interesting case- he is pretty masculine in S4, he's bulked up a bit, and attention is drawn to his hairy chest and physical prowess. But he wasn't always like that. In S1-S3, he was thinner, dressed in lighter colors, and looked more feminine (by today's standards). I think this somewhat contributes to him getting a pass.

I want to be clear, I'm not passing judgement on any of these characters for how they look. This is neither a negative nor positive observation and I recognize that these traits are reductive.

However, I think it's Billy's overt masculinity that contributes to how much he is hated. It's a product of casual derisive comments, along with all of the other reasons that others have already identified.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #i hope to god no one sends me hate over this #im NOT starting anything #its just that billy seems harder to twinkify #and thats just the reality #unless youre big brained #stranger things #fandom wank #discourse

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