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#Billy is shrugging about the raven
puppetmaster13u · 5 months
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Prompt 98
So there’s been a leucistic raven around the area I live and they are giving me ideas. 
 Danny is having fun. He’s on vacation! Sort of. Look, the GIW can barely find ecto-animals, and apparently being a halfa means that once Amorpho helped him with shapeshifting, he was golden. Well not literally, apparently his form’s coloration is based on his hair. So. But even then, who expects a raven of all things to be stopping crimes? Or aiding them. Look, the plant-lady has the right idea and he thinks Sam would adore her. Er, as long as she doesn’t kill anyone that is. 
 And Clockwork even gave his approval to do some time shenanigans too! Apparently there’s some super-speed heroes who he’s getting frustrated with and he’s allowed to follow them back in time to mess with their own stumbling through the time stream. Or something, does he really care? No, he’s on vacation! 
 But his absolute favorite has to be this sad funky british man and this age-shifting magic boy. He of course brings them all the best gossip- and food for the kid. Look, just because he’s on vacation doesn’t mean he’s gonna’ be heartless. He remembers how it is as a teenage-hero and the kid is like, ten so. 
 Though he’s pretty sure Mr sad-trench coat dude knows he’s not a normal raven but it’s hilarious to hear him try to figure it out. 
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piratefishmama · 1 year
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God. I just wanna know what Dustin could’ve told the Hellfire boys about Steve ya know. Like how could he have talked their ears off about him being a badass without bringing up his upside down related heroics? I mean did he tell them that Steve Harrington repeatedly saved his life but that he couldn’t go into details because it was classified information? Did they all roll their eyes at his obvious dramatics and overflowing imagination and tried to humor him?? And now Eddie tries to recall everything Dustin had said, everything he had dismissed and takes a moment to really understand the implications.
Eddie Munson would love to be able to say that he’d believe just about anything. He was an open minded kind of guy, nerdy, loved the fantasy genre, believed in aliens because it made sense for aliens to exist since the universe was just so infinitely big, and it’d be just so very stupid to think that Earth was the only little marble to hold sentient life among it all.
Believed in big foot purely because it’d be fucking hilarious if the guy actually existed but was just like. A really big hairy nudist that liked to terrorize locals. He’d seen a few bears in his time, not the grizzly kind either.
He loved his cryptids, Nessie and all her lake lookalikes was one of his favourites, just this really big water dinosaur thing that was actually probably just a whales dick breaching the water in all those photos, but whatever. It was funny to believe that it could be, even if his belief stemmed mostly from the idea that he could loudly declare with his whole chest that he believed in them to watch gleefully as people tried to convince him they weren’t real.
Harmless mischief really.
He would love to be able to say he believed just about anything.
Anything, he’d believe anything, anything except for whatever the fuck his new little sheep kept spouting about one infamous Steve “The Hair” Harrington after Eddie made the foolish mistake of innocently asking why Steve Harrington’s unmistakable Beemer was parked outside on the curb a little too loudly, mostly to himself.
“He drives us home.” Mike had answered the rhetorical question as he shrugged his bag over his shoulder, offering no further explanation.
“He does what now?” Eddie had to press for more, then it was Dustin who did the oversharing. And it was Dustin who never stopped sharing.
It was like he’d opened pandoras goddamn box only instead of all the worlds suffering it only contained Dustin’s endless gushing stream of stories that the others just politely ignored since Dustin only ever aimed them at him. So yeah, the analogy fit, it was still mostly suffering.
Steve took on a whole pack of wild ravenous dogs to protect them once, not demon dogs, Dustin was careful with that, but dogs that cornered them in the junkyard while Dustin had been trying to find the one that ate his poor cat for some such reason or another.
He’d embellished a little of course, the dogs totally had rabies, Steve was basically a hero who put his life on the line to protect them all. Eddie just scoffed in disbelief, as if Steve would risk putting a single hair atop his glorious head in danger, no sir.
Not even for a bunch of kids.
Then there was the Billy thing, may the douchecanoe rest in peace, Lucas even piped up there, mentioned that Steve had gotten his ass handed to him sure, but it was entirely to keep Billy away from him. Steve had put himself between monsters and those kids multiple times that night. Eddie could… sort of believe that one.
Steve was a douchebag sure, but he had turned up around that time with a real fucked up face like he’d gone toe to toe with a brick wall a few times and nobody really knew why.
The Steve had won a fight against a Russian soldier story was a fun one. Dustin wouldn’t elaborate on that one, said it was hush hush, it’d just kind of come out that one while Dustin was adamantly declaring Steve’s badassery, much to Eddie’s own adamant disbelief, but Dustin had quickly changed the subject anyway, not that Eddie was going to pry for more information on a made up story.
Usually he’d love to watch a lie spiral out of control until the edges inevitably frayed and it all fell apart.
But listening to one of his favourite little sheep go on and on and on and on about Steeeeeeeve Harrington, about how badass he was, about how cool he was, about how he looked after them, about how he took them to the arcade, and kept them safe from all kinds of dumb shit, about how he gave him advice that got him his girlfriend (Eddie hadn’t believed she was real at first either until Mike and Lucas had in unison piped up that actually, she was.) that Steve had been cool enough to drive him to the snowball and help him get ready, that he was basically like a big brother he didn’t know he’d needed, or an extra mother.
It was exhausting, and annoying as shit listening to him try and convince him to talk to Steve, get to know him, maybe make friends because “you’d both get along so well! I’m telling you I’m RIGHT about this, trust me! Why does nobody ever trust me? You trust me right?”
"Pfft, sure thing, shrimp." Nope.
Whatever, it wasn’t like he’d ever have to talk to Steve.
Until he does. Until he sees a sweaty, damp, dirty, and bleeding Steve "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" Harrington bite a demon bats tentacle tail off. Until he sees him splat that same bat into the floor over and over again until it's brains are nothing but a smear, and then watches as that same bat is then torn in half by pure brute strength and wow all those conversations come rushing back to Eddie like a tidal wave all at once that he can only look upon in somewhat flush-faced awe because,
"Holy shit. You really are a badass." Stupid Dustin, always right about shit.
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magicalqueennightmare · 11 months
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Sins & Amends Chapter 34
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(Gif by @ banditthewriter)
Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)
This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond
This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions
This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.
Chapter Summary/Warnings: Billy finds out Frank is still alive
Your mind was running in a thousand different directions as you slipped into the fence running around Micro's hideout. The walk there after getting dropped off by a cab blocks away had been stressful to say the least, the constant worry that you would lead someone back to Frank inadvertently.
You moved the bags of groceries over to one hand so you could open the door. When you stepped inside you whistled the same tune again just in case Micro had failed to mention to Frank that you were on the way.
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When you walked in Frank was sitting up on the side of his cot and Micro was changing the bandages. They both looked up so you waved a hand in their direction "Hold up. Let me take a look at that, you come put your food away"  Micro nodded and walked pass you into the kitchen area.
You used the sanitizer that was sitting near by then sat down next to Frank. He didn't flinch as your hands moved across the wound on his shoulder. "It's healing good Frankie" you said with a nod before digging into the first aid kit to find what you would need to rebandage him.
You were almost done when the radio next to the wall of computers crackled to life. You didn't pay too much mind until you heard "Blackbird to Raven. Come in Raven" no it couldn't be. You'd only heard those call signs in passing stories but one look at Frank told you he'd caught the voice as well. "Where's that coming from?" He asked Micro so you hurried to finish. 
Micro walked over to the radio and moved a few dials around "It's a recording, repeating across all frequencies" he stopped on one channel and the voice was clear as day "Blackbird calling bower team" it was Billy.
"I've been monitoring the radio just in case I caught something about.." Micro went to explain but trailed off when he realized you and Frank were having a silent conversation. You both knew that voice, the question was why was he sending that call out? 
"Do you two know what this is?" He asked. "Yeah" you replied and Frank added "I'm Raven"
You could feel your heart leap into your throat every time Billy's voice came across the radio "You out there Frankie?" Fuck how did he know? 
"Who is that?" Micro demanded as you stood up and Frank buttoned his shirt up then stood up next to you. "It's Billy Russo. We served together and he's Y/N's ex. He's a friend" Frank explained and you nodded. "Does he know you're alive?" Micro questioned.
Frank cut his eyes at you and it wasn't accusatory, more just asking so you shook your head. "Nah. I don't think so" Micro pointed back towards the radio and you couldn't really blame him for being a bit rattled because you were "That sounds like he does. Do we need to worry?"
Before you could say anything Frank snapped back "I just told you he's my friend. Didn't I say that?" Micro looked at you so you lowered your gaze, you weren't up for questioning at the moment so he turned to Frank "What kind of friend?" "The life or death kind. That's what kind"
Micro scoffed "That's all I get? C'mon! This is a serious development here. All right, some guy I've never heard of all of a sudden is broadcasting your name all over the radio"
"What did I just say?" Frank nearly growled so you slid between the two of them "Frank why is he calling you now?" He met your eyes and slowly shrugged "I don't know" you took a deep breath and ran your hand across your face "Jesus Christ. Ok, I bought food. It's not gourmet but I know for a fact Frank's had worse. You two eat. We'll figure this out but for now both of you get back to your damn corners"
Frank looked over your head at Micro "we better listen to the boss lady" you half smiled at the memories of calling Maria that. "Yeah you better. Look I have got to make a meeting at the station house. It's about new protocols but I will be right back here soon afterwards. Frank don't make no moves until I'm here and I am asking you please just wait ok?" He nodded "Yes ma'am" you actually smiled then and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek "Thank you" you patted Micro's  shoulder on your way by then grabbed your bag and headed for the door.
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You were barely able to pay attention during the meeting and as p.i.c. you knew better. Once again you were grateful for Alice because she took notes on the high points and didn't mind kicking your shin if need be.
When Chief Michelson called a dismissal you tried to make it out before she caught you but knew that was hopeless. You just hit the outside air when you felt her hand wrap around your arm "Woah there partner. What's up in that pretty little head of yours?" She asked slipping the notes she'd taken into the top of your bag.
You forced a smile "Just over thinking. You know my specialty" she studied you for a moment then nodded "If you need me or Kenzie for anything you know you can just call right?" "Of course. I don't want to worry you. It's nothing like that, I promise"
She pulled you into a hug then you heard a honk followed by Kenzie's voice "Y/N we agreed you would run off with me!"  The two of you pulled apart with a laugh. "I love you too Kenzie" Alice squeezed you once more then headed for the car. You waved as they pulled out into traffic then turned to start walking up the block. You needed to run by your apartment and considered going to Curtis' meeting on the way to Frank but as if your thoughts had conjured the man himself your phone started ringing "Hey Curt!" You greeted.
He let out a breath then said "Can I run down a situation for you and see if I did the right thing?" You laughed humorlessly "Shit Hoyle if I'm your moral compass you're already fucked but do feel free to go on"  
He gave you a run down of Lewis being arrested because he was hanging out with O'Connor who as it turned out was as big of a slimeball as you originally thought. He never actually saw combat, all the bullshit stories he told were just that. "Curt this may be one case you can't solve honey. I mean he's gonna mess up that kid worse than he already was. I don't want to sound cold but I'd rather see Lewis dead than you hurt because he's not stable and unwilling to admit it" "I know, I know" he replied then said he had to go. "I'll talk to you later"
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You were a few blocks from Micro's hideout when your phone started ringing. You paused to dig it out your pocket and froze at the number. It wasn't saved but seemed vaguely familiar. You shrugged then answered it with a quick "Hello?" "Y/N. Don't hang up on me. This is important" your heart was once again pounding in your throat because this time instead of over the radio Billy's voice was coming over the other end of your phone.
"You've got five minutes Billy" you heard him chuckle and was tempted to hang up the phone before the achingly familiar sound could wrap around you like it always did in the past. "So if I ask to meet face to face you'll probably tell me to burn in hell?" He asked and you snarked "Well give the man a prize" "Ok then I'll cut to the chase. Have you seen him?" "Who? Matt, Foggy, Curt, any of the guys I work with? You got to narrow it down"
"Your sister's husband" his accent was thicker than it usually was so you knew you'd hit a nerve. You swallowed twice before finding your own voice again "Billy. Have you gotten any serious blows to the head? He's dead remember? Big boom at the docks? I was there"
"Y/N please if you know anything tell me" he pleaded. "Billy, hang up with me and call Kenzie. You need professional help. I miss him too but he's gone" you ended the call and tried to ignore how your hands shook as you slid the phone back into your pocket and decided to double back the long way around to the hideout just in case, not because Frank would see how rattled you were.
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When you walked into the hideout you froze when you spotted Curtis' car parked right near the door. Fuck if Billy had called you he probably went to Curtis first.
You walked in about the time Curtis said "I lied for you again" "I don't mind lying to him" you announced and all three men turned to look at you as you walked into the kitchen. 
Frank looked between you and Curtis "Guess he came to you too?" You shook your head "He called me" "You both did the right thing by telling him I'm dead" you heard the radio crackle to life followed by Billy's voice "Every hour on the hour. This guy's determined" Micro said from his corner of the kitchen. 
Curtis stood between you and Frank and looked you both over before saying "He said he wanted to help you, that he could. Whatever he's offering if you ask me you should take it" Frank shook his head "Less people know I'm alive, safer it is for them" Curtis cut his eyes at you for support but you'd never been one to interfere in the two of them.
He turned his eyes back to Frank "What about you? You don't look too safe. You look like a guy that nearly got his ass killed and for what?" "If I could say something?" Micro suggested so you spun around to face him "You don't get an opinion in their conversation" he held up his hands defensively.
Curtis gave you a small nod then asked Frank "So do we just keep lying?" Frank looked towards you then said "Look Curt, both of you do what you think is right. I've never asked you to do anything else" Curtis shook his head "Y/N, you try your luck with it" then he walked out.
Frank knew what had went down with you and Billy after the kids and Maria. It'd come up one late night. You now knew about the k.i.a's being used to smuggle drugs back to the u.s.  You didn't want any lies between you and Frank. 
Micro asked him "Do you trust this guy?" "Yeah I do" he replied so Micro nodded "Then you should talk to him" "and I'll go with you" you added without much thought. "You sure?" Frank asked so you nodded. "Ok. I'll schedule a meet"
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Your stomach was in knots as you followed Frank across the open area where he told Billy to meet him. You could feel your gun at your lower back. When Frank had insisted you carry it you looked at him like he had lost his mind.
Billy wasn't a threat or you didn't want to think of him as one but Frank was right that there was always the possibility of someone using him to get Frank out in the open and if worse came to worse he had at least wanted to insure you had means to protect yourself. 
You dropped back behind Frank a couple steps when you spotted Billy sitting at a table near the falafel truck. He still looked as good as always. The leather jacket he was wearing was one you'd always loved on him. His dark eyes seemed almost black whenever he wore it.
Frank looked over his shoulder at you so you picked up your pace about the time Billy lifted his head. You froze the moment he spotted you behind Frank because although he was talking to Frank when he said "Back from the dead" his eyes never left your face. You met his gaze refusing to shy away and give him the satisfaction. You were here for Frank not him.
You stood back when him and Frank hugged then he glanced at you "Y/N. You look good" you scoffed and said "Fishing for a compliment Billy?" He gave you that smile that used to make you weak in the knees but now just hurt your heart "Always" Frank looked between the two of you and you knew he could feel the tension in the air. You were grateful when he cleared his throat and that got Billy's attention back on him. 
"Want a beer?" Frank glanced back at you then nodded "Hells yeah" you walked with them to the table being sure to sit on the side closest to Frank. You could get through this for his sake.
You huddled further into your jacket waiting for one of them to start talking. Billy broke the silence first "How come you never reached out?" Frank shrugged "Less people knew I was alive the better it was for them" "Y/N knew" only Billy could make a simple statement sound so accusing.
 You felt yourself bristle slightly "He needed someone to patch him up. I was willing and actually still around instead of my head being shoved up my own CEO ass. I worry about being outside of myself" 
Billy's eyes widened at your words just slightly before he continued "Well one of those few that knows Frankie's alive works for Homeland" "Yeah agent Madani. We know. She showed up at the damn station house" you bit back and saw what looked like almost anger flash through his eyes before he pushed it down and Frank reached out to touch your leg that simple movement his way of telling you to tone it down.
You grabbed Frank's beer and took a swig when he asked Billy how he knew Madani. "Through my company. We did some training for her agents. Me and her got to talking" your eyes flew up at his words even before Frank let out a dry laugh "So what you and her just get to talking?" 
Billy's eyes fluttered towards you before he grinned and said "Yea something like that" you simply shook your head and finished the beer. Well at least maybe he deemed Dinah material to be on his arm since you'd never been. "You never change do ya Bill?" Frank asked it with that brotherly tone the two always had and without thinking you said "He never could" 
"How's Murdock?" Billy asked turning his eyes to you once again ignoring Frank's presence. You shrugged "At least he doesn't mind me being on his arm. See he cares about me outside of fucking me" "Y/N! Bill! That's enough" Frank sounded like a father scolding his children and you felt your head duck slightly "Sorry Frank"
You stood and walked a couple feet away hearing Frank telling Billy that he should've approached the subject of Dinah differently with you being there. "Sorry Frankie. My point is though I may have seen Madani naked but you're the one she's hot for" after that you blocked out the rest of their conversation choosing to look out over the surrounding area, a habit you'd picked up from years being around Frank and Billy alike. Hell even Curt still did perimeter scans.
You caught the end of their conversation which was Billy offering to get Frank out the city. What got your attention was Frank calling you over. You slowly walked back over to stand at Frank's shoulder as Billy finished his offer to get Frank a new social and to put him on a boat overseas. Billy met your eyes and said "Y/N me and you both know this isn't what Maria would've wanted for him. Hell if you can leave your lover boy behind we could always use a good medic too"
Frank looked between the two of you then stood "Let me think about it Bill" Billy nodded then gave Frank a piece of paper with what dock and what time and his cell number. "Just let me know man" Frank took it with a nod. You turned to walk off but stopped when Billy called your name so you glanced over your shoulder. He half smiled and let his eyes flick across you before saying  "I meant it when I said you look good. If Murdock has that effect on you maybe he actually deserves you".
You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding. If he still thought you were with Matt the better. At least it wasn't clear you weren't over him and at least now Frank had one more option to consider.
"C'mon Frank let's get going" you half mumbled walking away without even looking to see if Frank was following.
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You knew Frank needed a few hours to get his head clear and make a decision so you headed home for a while. You had to get your head on straight after dealing with Billy. You had plans to meet Karen later that night and wanted to be in a better mood before then not to mention you were growing exhausted from constantly looking over your shoulder.
Billy watched you walk away and felt his jaw clench tight with anger. Not at you but at himself, hell at the entire situation all of you were now in because of him. You'd known this whole time Frank was alive and didn't trust him. He'd done it, hell he'd had to do it but didn't mean he liked. He hated himself every day for hurting you but at least you were alive.
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Hours later you were half asleep on your couch when your phone rang from a blocked number. You clicked to answer and felt relief and hearing Frank's voice "I'm not leaving. Not yet anyways. I want to see this through" "Ok. Anything I can help with, I'm here" "I know sweetheart. I'll call you tomorrow"
You stared at the phone for a few seconds then stood to head to bed. Karen was asleep in your spare bedroom and had been for hours. Now that you knew which way Frank had decided you could head to bed. You had to be in early for your shift.
You knew there was no way at all to predict what  or who may come up next but you did know that you would be backing Frank up in whatever way you could. You wanted answers as bad as he did. You'd lost so much that day too and wanted to be close enough to make sure you didn't lose him as well.
@intothesoul
@weallhaveadestiny
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doll-in-the-walls · 2 years
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Strangely Charming - Chapter 23
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Chapter Sum: Maeve returns to school like usual on Monday and is surprised when Billy wants to talk.
A/N:  Sorry this took so long, this chapter is very Billy-centric.
Warnings:  Mentions of / implied physical abuse, weed mention
Words:  3045
(Previous Chapter)
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Even though that weekend they had fought inter-dimensional monsters, the following Monday the kids all went to school as if it had just been another boring weekend. The only one who had stayed home was Will, considering the boy had been possessed by the main inter-dimensional ‘baddie’, the kid deserved some time to relax and recover.
The only thing they couldn’t hide from that weekend were the facial bruises Steve and Calcifer were sporting. Of course Steve’s were only a glamour, an illusion from the charm Maeve had made him, but Calcifer had turned down healing, less work in the long run. At first people thought Steve and Calcifer were the ones who had fought each other, until they saw the slight bruising on Billy’s face. It was clear who the victor of the fight was. 
This prompted a few people to wonder why Calcifer was with the two in the first place. Even though Steve had outright told him he didn’t care what people thought, Calcifer was still surprised when Steve told people the two were friends and that’s why they were hanging out. Neither went into detail about the fight with their respected friend groups, though his lunch table pestered Calcifer the entire time, and it turned out that Billy wasn’t bragging about it either.
Billy had seen Calcifer and Maeve that morning and while he remembered fighting the Irish boy and ‘The Hair’ he couldn’t shake the feeling he had seen Maeve that night as well.
"Emerson." Maeve turned from her locker, at the end of the day, to see Billy walking up to her. She tilted her head.
"Uh, yeah?"
"I…" He frowned as he reached her. "Did you bring me back to my house?" She blinked at him.
"What? Uh- when?" 
“Saturday night. Last thing I remember is that little shit… drugging me and then I wake up at home, she’s home, my car is home, and my-... my dad said I brought her home.”
“Oh, well-”
"Look, just-” he said, interrupting her, “ever since I saw you this morning… it's been bugging the heck outta me..” He looked conflicted and sighed. “Thanks."
"Huh?" Maeve blinked.
"For whatever damn reason, I've had the strongest urge to thank you all day. Then I figured you must have been the one to bring us home and I just couldn't remember. I mean your brother was there so- I mean, I don’t get why you would help after I-...” He cleared his throat and actually looked a little sheepish. “So I'm saying thanks."
"Oh… well, you're welcome, I guess." Maeve shrugged. He turned to walk away then paused and turned back.
“I saw your bird last night… She tell you?” he asked.
“Tell me that she saw you? No. Why?” She tilted her head. He swallowed and shook his head, jaw ticking.
“No reason.”
“If she saw you doing something weird or gross, you don't have to worry, she’s not gonna tell me,” she said with a small smirk she hoped didn’t look too forced. “She understands the concept of privacy, especially when it comes to teenage boys.” She let out a small scoff of a chuckle. “Won’t tell me anything you don’t want me to know.” He nodded slowly and hesitated as he took a step back.
“Good to know,” he said before he turned and walked away. 
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That night Maeve was surprised when Circe dropped a folded piece of notebook paper on the coffee table beside her perch after being let in for the night. All that was written on it were the words ‘open window, right side -B’ with an address written below it. Maeve looked to the raven.
“Give this to her. Don’t say anything,” the bird mimicked. 
“What’s that about?” Calcifer asked from his spot on the couch, looking up from a book.
“I’m not at liberty to say. Don’t wait up,” Maeve said as she grabbed her coat and her keys before she was out the door. Calcifer shrugged and went back to reading.
...
She parked at the end of the block and walked the rest of the way. Two windows on the right side of the house had lights on, but only one was open. The window was a good three feet above her head and she could see someone pacing back and forth inside. Instead of saying anything, Maeve picked up a small stone and hit the side of the house beside the window. A moment later Billy popped his upper half out. 
“You did remember how short I was, right?” she whispered as she motioned to the height of the window.
“Gimme your hand,” he said as he reached down. She let out a small scoff of a laugh.
“No way you can pull me up from there,” she said as she shook her head, crossing her arms.
“Give me your hand,” he repeated.
“Look, Max’s light is still on, she has a conveniently placed… thing to climb.” She motioned to the small wood storage under Max’s window.
“Fuck no.” He shook his head and motioned her over with his hand. “Come here.”
“You’re not pulling me up,” Maeve insisted, shaking her head. 
“Why are you being so difficult about this?” he hissed. “Just give me your damn hand.” The sound of a window opening brought their attention to Max’s window as she leaned out.
“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” she said before motioning Maeve towards her window. “Come on.” Billy hit his windowsill with his hand out of frustration and moved out of sight before closing his window.
“Thanks,” Maeve said as she climbed up.
“What are you even doing here?” the girl asked, giving her a confused and concerned look.
“Honestly? Not sure yet. Gave me to a note to come here.” Maeve climbed in through the window and Max jumped as the door behind her dresser opened.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Billy hissed. 
“Don’t act like you don’t normally have your side blocked too,” Max said with a sneer. “Just go out through the hall. You’re not moving it.” He cursed under his breath and shut the door. “Come on, follow me,” Max said as she opened her door. She looked out into the hall, listening for the sound of either adult from the next room being awake, before she motioned for Maeve to go out. Maeve had only just stepped out into the hall when she was being pulled down the hall and into Billy’s room. 
The first thing that caught her eye was the music setup that had been in front of the window - that he wanted her to come through - was pulled out and pushed against his closet door. Billy let out a sigh as he shut his door behind him and gave her an annoyed look. Maeve shrugged.
“Sorry, but you were not going to be able to lift me through that window.”
“Yeah?” He gave her a look before he was suddenly lifting her up by her waist so her head was at least a foot above his. Instinctively her hands moved to hold his shoulders.
“Whoa. O-Okay. You made your point.” Billy put her back down before letting out a sigh and sitting on his bed. Maeve smoothed out her shirt as he ran a hand over his face. “So… Ciri didn’t tell me why you wanted to see me so late at night,” she said as she slowly walked over to him. “Can I sit?” He motioned to the bed without looking at her and nodded. She sat so there was about two feet between them. “I figured it had to be something pretty important considering we see each other every weekday.” He took a slow breath. “Is everything okay?” He glanced at her and had to look away the moment he saw the genuine concern on her face.
“The bir-... Ciri saw something the other night and-” He scratched the back of his head. “-honestly I thought you sent her to spy on me or something but… you said she hadn’t told you anything.”
“Which she didn’t,” Maeve confirmed with a nod. She felt bad for lying about it, but she understood why Circe had told her when normally she wouldn’t have. Maeve didn’t know exactly what Circe had seen but the bird was panicked enough about what she did tell her.
“When I asked-... Okay so, whenever I have my window open she likes to sit on the ledge. Think she likes my music,” he said with a slight chuckle and a half shrug. “So tonight when she showed up… I felt like a crazy person, but I asked her why she didn’t tell you what she saw… and she said…” He took a breath. “She said that I should be the one to tell you.”
“I told you before, she understands the concept of privacy and secrets. She wouldn’t tell me even if I asked.” He nodded. “Are you going to tell me? Or did you just want to double check that she didn’t tell me?” He shook his head.
“I asked her why I should tell you and she said… I can trust you.” He looked at her, finally meeting her eyes again.
“I mean… you can. Believe it or not, I also understand the concept of privacy and secrets.” He chuckled and looked up to the ceiling. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended or anything.”
“I want to… I just… I just don’t know how.” He let out another chuckle, this time humorless as he rubbed a hand over his face again. “I’ve never told anyone, not even the people who already know about it.”
“You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready.” He swallowed.
“When I was a kid… back in California...”
She listened as he told her everything. He moved to sit against the wall that the head of his bed was against and she came to sit with her legs crossed at the foot of his bed. She didn’t interrupt and let him find the words in his own time. Even when he sat, for a full five minutes, with a fist to his mouth trying to push back tears the only thing she had said was a soft,
“You’re allowed to cry. It doesn’t mean you’re weak.” Which only made the tears fill his eyes faster, but he took the time he needed to collect himself enough to continue. He couldn’t look at her once while he spoke, instead looking at his hands or up at the ceiling. His voice never grew any louder or stronger than just above a whisper.
“-and I know this is gonna sound like some cheap pick up line,” he said with a scoff, “but… you’re different. Bird said I could trust you and… I already felt like I could. From the moment you noticed that damn cut…” He finally looked at her and swallowed hard as tears again filled his eyes. “And then you even noticed when I wasn’t wearing my necklace…” He let out a shaky breath as he reached up to hold the pendant. "You're-… the girls at school don't care, but you- you’re not even trying to-…" He let out another breath. Maeve uncrossed her legs, letting them rest over the side of the bed and moved a bit closer to him.
“Can I give you a hug?” she asked softly. “I swear I’m not coming onto you. Just a hug.” He started to chuckle as he nodded and the chuckles soon turned into quiet sobs as she put her arms around him. His arms wrapped tightly around her as she slowly rubbed his back. She held him until his tears ran dry. 
From that night onward, any time he needed or wanted to see her Circe would deliver the message and Maeve would drive out to his house. It was easier for him to write it down on paper than to verbally ask her. She had given him her phone number for convenience's sake, but he preferred to have Circe deliver the request which Maeve respected. As long as Circe didn’t mind, she didn’t mind.
If Max was still awake she allowed Maeve the use of her window. She had even moved her dresser so the door connecting the two rooms was usable, so Maeve didn’t have to go through the hallway to get to Billy’s room. She didn't really understand why Maeve would willingly want to be around Billy, but Max didn’t want Maeve to get caught by Billy’s father either. Once or twice Max listened through the wall, like she had the first night Maeve came over, but so far she hadn’t heard anything that made her concerned enough to tell any of the others. If anything, she thought having Maeve over was actually good for him. 
Sometimes the two would just stay in his room; he would talk and she would listen. Other times they would opt for distractions and sneak out his window to drive around or get high. They would watch movies at Maeve’s place while Calcifer was ‘out’. Billy didn’t understand why her cat hated him so much. 
Maeve had to ask Max to let him use her window to get back in after Maeve brought him home. The first few times Billy had initiated on just climbing up through his own window and left many shoe prints on the side of the house. She had suggested maybe putting a ladder of some sort under his window, but the idea was shot down before she had even finished saying it. Max understood and reluctantly agreed; if his father saw it and knew he was sneaking out of the house at night… 
Things didn’t change much in school. He didn’t talk to her any more than he had before. In the halls he would give her quick smiles or subtle nods. They would sometimes ditch class during the same periods and meet outside for a smoke. At the end of the day they would walk to their cars together, same as before only this time with a bit more idle chatter. She and Calcifer would go to the school basketball games to see Steve play - even though neither witch had any interest in sports - but Maeve would always give Billy a silent cheer when he would look over.
He told her of his plan, for after graduation, to save up enough money over the summer to finally get his own place then work on saving up even more to get further away from his father, maybe even go back to California. Maeve had asked him what would happen if he left Max and her mother in Hawkins with his father. He said that he figured - and hoped - that Susan would be smart enough to leave the man if Neil ever hurt either one of them for a change. If not he said he would report it to Hopper in a heartbeat. Then he made her promise not to tell Max he had said any of that.
He didn’t hate Max, not really. It was unfortunate circumstances and being raised by a devil of a man that caused him to lash out in unhealthy ways. It wasn’t her fault or her mothers, he knew that. A part of him hated the fact that he was always on the receiving end, but he still would never wish it on them. He hated his father for driving his mother away and for replacing her with Susan, but that didn’t make it Susan’s fault.
Ever since the night Max stuck a needle in his neck and swung a nailed bat between his legs, he had kept his word and left her and her friends alone. Though every now and then when Maeve would come over he would ask her how Max was doing. If the girl seemed upset, he would ask if Maeve knew anything about it. Had Max mentioned anything to Calcifer? Was someone at school giving her trouble?  
In an attempt to help both siblings have their own space where they weren’t forced to spend time together like his father wanted, Maeve started picking Max up on the weekends to bring her to the arcade and bringing her home after school whenever Billy had plans. Unfortunately, this also meant Maeve had to officially meet their parents. Neil insisted. Billy suggested she try to look normal so his dad wouldn’t immediately hate her, but when he saw her approaching the house in a Motörhead tank top and black jeans that seemed to have more rips than actual fabric, he knew she chose to ignore the suggestion. Despite her appearance, she was respectful and polite when Max introduced her. 
She didn’t take the bait whenever his father said something passive aggressive or even outright rude. When he bluntly asked why she was repeating her senior year, she explained she had missed too many days at her previous school because she and her brother had to stay home to take care of their sick father. This was something Billy and Max didn’t know about the two. 
As far as Neil knew Maeve was Max’s friend not Billy’s and Maeve did her best to make sure he didn’t think otherwise. Billy also did his best to give the impression that he wasn’t into Maeve. He didn’t want to hear his father bad mouth her once she was gone if he thought Billy was in any way interested in her. Maeve had told him she didn’t care what his father thought of her as long as it didn’t put him or Max in danger. He could insult her until his face turned blue, she wouldn’t care. 
Not caring about what Neil said about her was one thing, but Billy knew how she reacted when he would simply tell her what Neil had said about him. A few times he was afraid that when she finally met the man she would outright punch him in the face. Thankfully, she hadn’t; though she did mention - that night when they met up - she was very tempted to at least twice.
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(Next Chapter)
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Hey if you wanna be added to the tag list for this fic (or removed, don’t feel bad about asking to be removed from the list for any reason.) please just reply on any chapter (or send me an ask) and I’ll tag you in the next one. ^_^
Tag List:
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beastboyisbestboy · 1 year
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I posted 201 times in 2022
That's 201 more posts than 2021!
9 posts created (4%)
192 posts reblogged (96%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@bilingual-beast-boy
@undertheknightwing
@crypt1dcorv1dae
@angelo-gray
@redrobin-detective
I tagged 103 of my posts in 2022
Only 49% of my posts had no tags
#beast boy - 10 posts
#garfield logan - 9 posts
#yeah this goes on my beast boy sideblog - 7 posts
#teen titans - 6 posts
#i love it - 3 posts
#art - 2 posts
#correct - 2 posts
#teen titans angst - 2 posts
#squealing - 2 posts
#victor stone - 2 posts
Longest Tag: 111 characters
#lmao that moment when you commit several accounts of child torture but you were undercover so it doesn't matter
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Kintsugi
Set between season two and three of Young Justice. Kaldur goes to talk with Blue Beetle after he messes up a covert mission. 
Kaldur walked out of the late meeting to find Jaime sitting awake on the couch. It was one-forty three in the morning. He opened his mouth to say something but Jaime noticed him, and quickly pressed a finger to his lips. Warning Kaldur to stay silent. As he walked around, Kaldur could see why. 
Lying down with his head Jaime’s lap, Garfield lay asleep. His green tail twitched as he dreamed, a dazed frown crossing his expression. Kaldur sat down on the couch next Jaime so they could talk about what went wrong on the mission without waking the boy. 
Jaime began. Before Kaldur could even open his mouth, the words started slipping out one after another, like a waterfall. 
“He had a nightmare. We all do- me, Bart and Garfield. About The Reach. Being taken. What they . . . what they did to us. We’re all affected but it hit Gar hardest, I think. Maybe because Bart and I have families to run to, but for Gar, the Cave was home. He was supposed to be safe there.”
Jaime’s tone held an accusatory note. 
And Aqualad, realised suddenly, that the Blue Beetle’s performance issues had nothing to do with cockiness or vanity. It was the fact that when push came to shove, Jaime couldn’t really trust that Kaldur had his safety or wellbeing in mind when he ordered them to do something risky. The kind of trust you had to have in a leader. In a club like this. 
“If there’s anything i can do” Kaldur offered. Jaime shrugged. 
“I think that sometimes when you break something you can work to repair it. Glue it piece by piece. But sometimes you break something and . . . it’s broken.”
Garfield muttered something incomprehensible in his sleep. 
14 notes - Posted October 28, 2022
#4
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16 notes - Posted November 12, 2022
#3
The Teen Titans and their taste in Music:
@heaven-ecologist gave me the idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so here you go. 
Beast Boy: Used to have a rave and dubstep hyperfixation but Raven blew up his speaker for playing it too loud. Now he listens to popular white boy music, like Bastille, Ed Sheeran and Billie Eilish. His favourite band is Gorillaz and wants to cameo in a music video as Murdoc’s second cousin. 
Starfire: She’s a Taylor Swift girlie. Cries every time she announces an album release. Listens to Lizzo and Doja Cat when she’s working out.  Listens to Mitski when she’s sad. 
Raven: Has a ferocious need to have the most alternative music taste in the room. Absolutely My Chemical Romance. A little bit of The Crane Wives. Listens to classical music while she’s meditating. Regularly says stuff like “Tiktok is ruining the music industry” and “No-one makes good music anymore.” 
Terra: She and Raven bond over Penelope Scott. If Cyborg hands her the aux, she will only play Mother Mother. Has about twelve “Villain playlists” saved on Spotify and also loves Will Wood. 
Robin (Dick Grayson): When he’s with people, it’s white boy pop. It’s Harry Styles, it’s Justin Timberlake, it’s Elton Joh. When he’s alone, it’s Adele or Regina Spektor and he pretends to be in a sad music video. Will unironically lean his head against a bus window for the drama even though the vibration turns his brains to gravel. 
Cyborg: He listens to rap. I can’t give you specific examples because I don’t listen to rap. 
18 notes - Posted September 11, 2022
#2
https://archiveofourown.org/works/42960675 
Here’s the link to my Beast Boy fic inspired by this  post with @undertheknightwing
It’s 3k words, following the Titans team in the 2017 Judas Contract movie which has perhaps been my favourite Teen Titan line-up thus far. 
Summary. 
The Teen Titans are left in a bad situation when they're captured by an unknown enemy. Even as they equip themselves to escape, an old secret of Beast Boy is spilled- one that can never be unseen again. But despite his true form, will be accepted by his team?
I really enjoyed writing this fic and I hope to get to another one-shot soon. Or even a longer one, if i can manage to buckle down and finish it. 
19 notes - Posted November 9, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
A fun angst thought I have, is that the body Garfield Logan generally inhabits is not his own. It’s him shapeshifting into the “human” animal, a conservative guess of what he’d look like if he’d remained a normal person and grown up. He’ll never know exactly, what he’d look like at fifteen and thriving, and even that question is tainted by the thick shade of green that washes over everything. But it seems to mollify the crowds that flock to watch the Titans fight, and that’s enough.
His true form is covered in a thick layer of fur, a long green tail and pupil-less eyes, long sharp claws and long sharp teeth. Its a form that reveals how far removed from his personhood he is, how much he truly changed. It’s a form that only a power inhibitor would reveal, or a deep coma. Beast Boy often wonders what he’s more ashamed of; the form, or the fact that he hides it.
34 notes - Posted September 15, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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slasherscrybaby · 1 year
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Incorrect quotes w. Verosika
Billy: Verosika, truth or dare
Verosika: Truth
Billy: How many hours did you sleep this week
Verosika:
Verosika: Dare
Billy:Go to sleep
Verosika: I don’t like this game
——
Stu: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?
Billy: No.
Verosika: No.
Stu: Didn't think so.
—-
Stu: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong?
Randy: Strong.
Billy: Weak.
Verosika: An idiot, is what your are.
*Watching someone try to flirt with Verosika*
Stu: Can I kill them?
Billy: No.
Stu:
Billy:
Stu: What about now?
Billy, reluctantly: No.
———
Billy: You look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?
Verosika: I got a solid eight minutes.
Verosika: Don’t worry, not all at once.
Billy: *Worried noises*
Verosika: You’re not even that blurry.
Verosika: *Squints*
Verosika: Stu.
Billy:
Verosika: What?
Billy:Go.To.Sleep.Now
Verosika: Yes sir
———-
*Playing twister*
Billy: Right hand red.
Stu: *Ends up on top of Verosika*
Verosika: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
Billy: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.
—-
Billy: Can we talk about that mass email you sent?
Verosika: Why? It was important.
Billy: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".
Stu, shrugging: The people need to know.
Taglist: @rottent33th @kalid-raven @the-pinstriped-hood
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one-boring-person · 3 years
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write more for Dutch from Predator? Lol it's me btw! I was wondering if it could be a hate to love relationship, where Dutch, being the hardass he is, can't live down his pride, and the reader (preferably female), is a strong independent woman who is actually Poncho's little sister, learning from the best. To add on, can the reader be short as Arnie is so tall, and because I am only 5'2" irl?
I kind of combined this with the enemies-to-lovers prompt request, I hope that's ok! I hope you like this!😊💛
Old Habits Die Hard.
Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator 1987) x reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, mention of violence, alcohol consumption
Masterlist
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"This round's on me, what does everyone want?" Mac announces as we go to sit down at the table, the mercenary remaining standing.
"A beer sounds good." Poncho says, looking at the rest of us.
We give words of agreement, taking our respective places at the table as Mac goes to leave the room and go to the bar.
"Don't forget a soda, I don't think they sell alcohol to underage people here." Dutch chips in, flashing a pointed look in my direction.
"Very funny." I roll my eyes, forcing a smile as the others chuckle, "A beer is fine, Mac. Thanks."
He nods, ducking from the room we rented out for the evening, leaving the five of us alone.
"So what's all this about, Dutch? Got us another job?" Blain questions, the gruff man leaning back in his chair, jaw working languidly at the gunk in his mouth.
"Yeah, but this one's a bit different." The major replies, taking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.
"Different? How?" Hawkins frowns, cokcing his head to the side.
Dutch takes a deep breath of smoke from the cigar, sitting back in his seat.
"An old friend from the army got in touch. Says he needs us for a rescue op."
"Friend from the army? Who?" I inquire, lifting an eyebrow.
"Old commander of mine." Dutch replies dismissively, barely sparing me a glance.
"Ok, where is the job?" Poncho asks, my brother shooting me a knowing look, his eyes flicking up as Mac walks in again, seven beers cradled in his arms.
"What job?" He asks as he places the bottles down on the table, looking round at us all.
"Dutch got us another op." Blain grunts, reaching out to take his beer, spitting the contents of his mouth out into the ashtray on the table. Hawkins, Poncho and I pull faces at that, but don't say anything.
"Another one? We only just got back!" Mac exclaims, taking a seat across from Hawkins, taking a sip from his beer.
"Perks of the job." Dutch shrugs, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Will you at least tell us what it is?" I can't keep the impatience from my voice, finding his vagueness irritating.
"I'm getting to it, (Y/n), calm down." He rolls his eyes, "It's in central America, somewhere in the jungle. Phillips was cagey about where exactly, but he said it's got something to do with guerrillas and hostages. We're supposed to get the hostages out of there."
"Sounds simple enough." Billy muses, rubbing his chin.
"When is it?" Poncho chips in, watching the major closely.
Dutch is quiet for a minute, his eyes flicking over us all, before he finally responds.
"It's tomorrow."
I nearly choke on my beer, spluttering as I sit upright in my chair.
"Tomorrow? Are you insane?!" I burst out, annoyed, "We got back from Afghanistan at the ass-crack of dawn today, and you want us to fly off to the jungle at the same time tomorrow? You trying to kill us or what?"
The others nod in agreement, murmuring their own complaints, only to shut up when Dutch turns a venomous glare on me.
"You know, if you spent half the energy you do on complaining on growing, you wouldn't look like a damn child anymore, (Y/n). Would make taking jobs a lot easier - means I don't have to explain why we've only got six and half mercs with us." He snaps, voice laced with anger, "I'm not insane, just practical. We all need more money, and the work is low at the moment. You'd know that if you weren't off lounging at home all day, letting us do the hard planning and prep work."
Silence descends on us all, my jaw dropping at the vehemence behind his words. No one speaks, letting the two of us stare at each other in hatred, my expression swiftly creasing into fury, every muscle in my body going tense.
Another moment passes, before I suddenly stand from the table, slamming my bottle on the table as I stalk past, heading straight out the door. Poncho tries to stop me, calling out to me, but I ignore him, practically seething as I leave the bar and stride to the car my brother and I came in. Unlocking it, I climb in and slam the door, buckling myself into the driver's seat as I throw the car into drive, pulling out onto the road. 
Furious, I drive way over the speed limit, weaving in and out of the traffic with no regard for my own safety as I careen down the highway. Screeching horns and tyres follow me as I go, but I ignore them, focusing instead on getting home, filled with anger now as Dutch's words play over and over in my head. 
It doesn't take long for me to pull up in the drive of my house, the car skidding on the loose gravel as I harshly jerk the handbrake into place, unbuckling myself before I climb out, making my way over to the door. Opening it, I go in and head straight to the bathroom, intending to take a shower to cool me down, knowing I need to calm down. I strip down quickly, quickly getting under the cold water with my fists clenched at my sides for a while, until I start to massage myself with my fingers, working out the knots in my muscles. It's pleasant, but I can still feel the anger burning in my system, so I swiftly leave again, wrapping myself in a towel. 
As I leave the bathroom, I hear a car pull up in the drive, the tyres crunching loudly on the gravel, announcing the newcomer's arrival. I dismiss it, chalking it up to it being Poncho, come to check up on me as the door downstairs opens, then closes, footsteps sounding in the hall as the person checks for me. The sounds are heavier than I thought they would be, and the identity of the person soon dawns on me.
Immediately, I feel the anger start racing through me again, my face creasing into a scowl until I force myself to calm down, at which point I turn and storm up to my bedroom. Going in, I start to rummage through my wardrobe, looking for some new clothes, trying to bite back the irritation rising in me as I hear the footsteps getting closer, the heavy boots not even halting as they reach the door. Within seconds, the wooden structure has been flung open, an angry mercenary standing in the space behind it.
"Ever learn to knock?" I snap at him as soon as I turn around, glaring at Dutch as he looms in the doorway, "Nevermind, you never learned manners period."
"Says the person who just stormed out of a bar." He scoffs, sneering at me as he steps into the room, "Talk about table manners."
"And whose fault is it I stormed out in the first place?" I glower at him, holding my towel in place as he continues forward, the glint in his eyes sparking a blazing heat inside me.
"Oh, so now it's my fault you can't take a joke?" Dutch jabs his finger at his chest before pointing it at me, brow furrowed in anger.
"You have a pretty poor idea of a joke, asshole." I spit back, lifting my finger up in his face as we step closer together, less than a foot away from each other now.
"You're the only one who thinks so, short-ass." He glares down at me, making me all too aware of how he towers over me.
Swallowing tightly, I shift uncomfortably.
"Sure about that? I can't be the only one who thinks your height jokes are getting old." I reply venomously, jabbing my finger at his chest.
He laughs humorlessly.
"Oh, but we both remember a time when you used to love playing into your shortness." His voice drops an octave, eyes boring into me, "I had you on your knees more than once with only standing over you. Remember?"
A flare of lust goes through me at the reminder, flashes of him looming over me as he pounded his cock harder and harder into my waiting mouth coming, unbidden, to mind. I'd always liked the sight of his muscular body above mine, as well as the feelings of his large hands wrapped around me, even if it was simply to hold my head still whilst he fucked it. 
"That was months ago." I hiss back at him, barely able to look up at him - if I do, it'll be too much like the memories in my head and I'll give in to the urges of my body. Already I can feel arousal pooling in my panties, my cheeks flushing as I realise this.
"Old habits die hard." Dutch growls, before swiftly reaching out to tear the towel away, exposing me to him. Before I can protest, however, he's taken hold of me and lifted me against the wall, pinning me roughly in place with his body, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His lips crash into mine, a mess of teeth and tongues ensuing as we kiss like we used to, wet sounds filling the air as we press closer and closer together. Soft sounds of need escape me, but they're swallowed by the ravenous major above me, who licks and nips at my lips, a few grunts leaving him as he does so. 
Moving to pull him closer, I moan loudly as Dutch jerks his hips into mine, using them to hold me in place, his arousal pressing at my clit through his trousers. I have to bite back whines at the feeling of the rough fabric against my unprotected clit, my slick soon covering the crotch of his jeans as he rolls his hips into me. One of his hands moves to palm roughly at my breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between two calloused fingers, his other hand grasping my ass, which he squeezes tightly. Whimpering into his mouth, I take my nails down his back, grinding my sensitive clit down onto him, enjoying the waves of pleasure emanating from the stimulation. 
Months and months of pent up lust pour through the kiss, only breaking as Dutch pulls back to yank his shirt off, revealing his muscular yet scarred torso to me. Instantly, I go to lick and kiss at the toned muscles, only to yelp indignantly as he takes hold of my hair and jerks my head back, growling as he fastens our lips together again. He presses closer, crushing me against the wall with his huge body, grinding his arousal into me with vigour, only to suddenly pull away, keeping me in his arms. In seconds, Dutch has thrown me on the bed, standing at the end with his hands on his belt. 
Biting my lip, I eagerly move to help him, but he pushes me back down roughly, wasting no time in pulling his trousers and underwear down, revealing his leaking cock to the air. I moan at the familiar sight of it, eyeing up the veined length keenly, following it from the base to the reddened tip, watching as precum beads there. 
Dutch doesn't give me long to admire him, climbing over me and pressing himself against me as soon as he's exposed, his lips moving to my neck. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake, biting at sensitive points as he goes, licking over them briefly each time to soothe them, every movement extracting a needy whine from me. One of his hands moves down to his cock, which he takes hold of and runs through my slick folds, coating the tip generously as he supplies pleasure to me. With every pass over my clit, I moan and rock up into him, clutching at his back. 
"Fuck me, Dutch. Show me how much bigger you are." I moan out, wrapping my legs around his waist.
As he hears my words, however, Dutch growls, leaning back, making my legs fall from where they were. I whine at the lack of contact until he rolls me onto my front, grabbing hold of my ass to knead and grope. 
"I'll show you alright." He practically snarls in my ear as he bends back over me, moulding his huge body to my smaller frame, hands jerking my ass into his hips. He grinds himself into me for a moment, building my pleasure further as he bites at the back of my neck, sending bolts of electricity through me, which I respond to by rocking back onto him. 
With a final grunt, Dutch lines himself up with my hole, surging forwards into me in one stroke, stretching me out as he goes. A half-scream leaves my throat as I feel his cock slide over every sensitive spot inside me, my walls clenching deliciously around him, every vein rubbing against me. He gives me no time to adjust, pulling out entirely before slamming back into me, setting a hard, fast pace that has me seeing stars in no time. Ecstasy races through me, a knot tightening swiftly in my abdomen at the feeling of his thick cock pounding into me. 
Dutch straightens after a moment, taking my hip in one hand whilst he presses my face into the bed with the other, using me as leverage to shove his cock as far into me as he can go, grunting and groaning behind me in pleasure and need. Under his grip, I feel totally immobile, but the thought of him using me to work out his anger sends me reeling, my walls clenching tightly around him, tearing a moan from his lips. His name falls from my own, almost like a mantra as he slams into me, sending bolts of pleasure through me, bringing me closer and closer to what I really want. 
"So close, Dutch...keep going, oh fuck, you're so good…" I moan out, my words muffled slightly by the bed, though they are audible enough for him.
A whine of displeasure echoes from my chest as he suddenly pulls out, my pussy throbbing at the loss. He doesn't wait long, though, rolling me back onto my back before he hikes my legs up onto his shoulders, thrusting roughly back into me. With the new angle, whole other waves of pleasure ripple through me, his cock hitting the very spot that brings me crashing towards an orgasm. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, along with obscenely wet noises and moans from the two of us, both too caught up in the moment to care about what comes after.
"You're getting tighter, (Y/n)...gonna cum for me, are you?" Dutch groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as my pleasure rapidly builds, "Come on, (Y/n), cum for me!"
With a final scream of ecstasy, the tension inside me snaps and I cum, hard, my walls clenching like a vice around him. White light blinds me, everything disappearing around me as the pleasure floods through me in a great torrent, rendering me incapable of moving momentarily. 
Vaguely, I feel Dutch pound into me a few more times before he pulls out and cums over my stomach, letting out a roar of satisfaction at the sensation, his hand wrapped around himself, jerking his cock desperately. Breathing heavily, he milks himself dry before he slumps over me, smearing the sticky substance between us, the two of us left breathless in the throes of our pleasure. 
"Still as good as I remember." He hums, rolling off of me to lie beside me.
"Could say the same thing." I sigh, trailing a finger through his cooling cum, grimacing at the sight of it.
Groaning, I heave myself up, taking the towel up from the floor.
"Where are you going?" Dutch asks, still lounging on the bed.
"Shower. You should, too." I inform him, moving to leave, only to stop still as the door swings open.
"(Y/n)? Who are you- oh." Poncho blushes a deep red, grimacing as he swiftly ducks back out of the room. 
"Oh shit…" I groan, putting my head in my hands, unable to bite back a small smile.
With just grins, leaning back on his hands.
"Oops."
-
Tag list: @nightime-luna-fairy
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cloudycera · 3 years
Text
The Street Rat Empire
( I like this name better)
Beta Chapter 1.
Billy hated summer, Most kids loved it and it was easier not to freeze to death during this time but for billy it was one of the more dangerous times of the year. With kids no longer in school more of them would be taking up summer jobs which it harder for him to get one and it always seemed like CPS worked harder now.
The raven was zoning out in The Tower, contemplating his life outside of The Captain and what he was going to do for dinner or if he was going to eat tonight to help out the younger kids in his apartment, he could swipe something from the Cafeteria when no ones looking but to be honest someone was always looking.
"Cap.....Cap?!"
Captain Marvel almost jumped out of this chair as he turned to The Flash who was looking him with a questioning smile.
"Yeah? Sorry I was....thinking" he said awkwardly chuckling.
"Obviously you've been staring out the window for the past 30 minutes, Hal was ready to bet you were a decoy or something" Barry said leaning against railings next to him.
"So what's eating you?"
Captain wasn't exactly sure how he was going to tell his teammates he was going hungry to feed other people so he shrugged and placed his forehead on the glass.
"Nothing much just....worried about some kids in Fawcett" He chose the half truth, it helped to only tell half the truth most times, this way they could understand his worry.
"Kids?" Barry asked.
"Yeah as Shiny as Fawcett is it's homeless population still makes up thirty percent a lot of them are just kids, it sucks that even with all the strength In the world I can't help every last one them but still gotta do something" Billy's sad smile shook Flash a bit, he was used to the happy go lucky optimism Captain marvel carried around with him but even as he knew how creepily happy Fawcett city seemed to be he just accepted that it would have a hero like The Captain who always brightened up the mood.
"Is that why you always sneak out like 20 boxes of pizza on fridays?" He asked.
The raven blushed but didn't look at Barry out of fear that he would look like an idiot,
"You noticed that....great" he whispered but Flash still heard it.
"Everyone did Capn, everyone" Barry pat Billy on the back and smiled. "You're a good man Marvel, I'd say it would easier to just call Child protective services but if you could you already would"
"Those kids trust me Barry, I'd never do that to them I know how sucky that life can be Foster isn't exactly kind to most....ah" It was too late once he realized he'd actually given out personal information about himself, Billy turned away from The Flash and was so close to just flying out the window.
"You were a Foster child, Captain?" A new voice to the conversation, Dinah The Black Canary walked up to them with a blank face but slightly sympathetic look in her eyes.
"Can we forget I just said that?, oops look at the time gotta go see you guys later!!" In seconds the raven was gone, guess the speed of Hermes came in handy sometimes.
"What was that?" Dinah asked Barry looking at the door he ran out of.
"I don't know, he was zoning out so I asked what's wrong and he talked about the homeless kids in Fawcett, I think he's just a little conflicted.... you should talk to him tomorrow"
"I don't want to make him uncomfortable but I'll try" Canary said.
*********
In a rundown apartment in the forgotten neighbourhood, Billy laid on his makeshift excuse of a bed. It was an old mattress that he sometimes let the other kids stay on if they wanted to hideout somewhere, he had a sleeping bag as the bed cover to make it less gross to sleep on.
He knew he could always just live in the tower and no one would ask questions but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not when the League didn't know his identity and he felt responsible for the homeless kids here too.
Billy had long since given up on trusting adults, yeah he absolutely trusted the League with Captain Marvel's back but nat with Billy Batson. Billy batson was a scrawny 12 year old with nothing to his name, living in a dangerous neighbourhood and eating out of a trash can on most days and the League was full of kind good people but that kindness proved to be pain in the raven's ass the older he got.
There was a knock on his door and upon opening it was a little girl named Alli who lived with her mom the floor below him, Alli's mom was an addict who refused to hand her daughter over to social services and was on the run but Billy felt sorry for them so he let them stay in the building.
"Their back again, the Lions are making trouble outside again." The girl said, Billy looked annoyed but smiled either way and patted Alli's head thanking her for the information and sending her off to her mom.
"One day...just one day...can't I just relax and over think"
He said before getting to the roof and saying his words of power to ultimately talk the Gang into leaving and maybe throwing some of them into each other.
(I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN A LONG TIME SO PLEASE TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS)
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lydias--stiles · 3 years
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my sweet romantic teenage nights
juke | high school + diner au | title: scenes from an italian restaurant // billy joel
Magenta’s Palace was an artefact from the glorious American Dream; a fluorescent gem wrapped in that 60s architecture and old-fashioned uniforms. It was also the hang-out spot of most LF Arts students, right in the heart of Los Feliz and on most kids’ path.  
Luke used to roll his eyes at the place, thinking it was corny and certainly not the place a punk-rocker like him would go… until he tasted their gnarly waffles. And burgers. And milkshakes. His love for good food trumped his desire for street cred and ended up like the rest of his peers: a regular at MP.
Alex and Reggie never had qualms with it. The former was rather happy Luke got over himself and Reggie was simply pleased to spend more time with his friends. It became tradition to eat there every Friday after school. Sometimes they stayed until the early hours of the night talking, sometimes it was to fuel up before a gig.
Settling in their booth (theirs - Luke has made sure to carve the underside of the table with their names), Luke sighed contently. “Boys, this gig is gonna be fire.”
“I still don’t know how you convinced the guys at Raven’s Nest,” Alex mused, glancing around for a waitress in a candycane-coloured uniform.
Reggie nodded gravely. “Yeah, they’re scary.”
“Used my charm,” he smirked. “Dialled it up like I always do.”
The blonde snorted. “Sure.”
Luke’s face crashed. “Fine. I used our fake’s when he didn’t believe we were eighteen.”
His friends grinned, Alex snapping his fingers. “There it is.”
The chipper Nora glided towards them, slaloming between tables with her notebook. Alex’ remark didn’t bother him, crossing his arms with a shrug. “Does it matter? I got us in. They’re gonna love us. Nay! They’re gonna eat this set up!”
“You better be right - hi, Nora - cause it’s a bar for bikers. Real ass bikers,” Alex replied, shooting Nora a smile.
“Hello, boys,” she greeted, her signature red hair tied in a messy bun. Reg used to have a crush on her when they first visited, until they realised she was twenty-three and in a committed relationship with a guy from USC studying medicine. Yeah, he had no shot. Luke had to console him by buying five chocolate shakes and blasting Elvis Presley in the car.
Despite this, Reggie still had a soft spot for her, smiling kindly at the waitress. “Our usual, please.”
The notebook got tucked in her apron with a bright nod. “Coming right up!”
As Nora swiftly returned behind the glossy bartop, parlaying the order to the kitchen, the entrance opened. The bell above chimed, three girls appearing beneath it.
Oh, shit.
When Luke enrolled into LF Arts as a green fourteen year old, he had planned to only focus on music and nothing else. He’d blaze through his classes and become the best in music and then, with his obsessive nature at a peak, would launch the band into the next stratosphere. That was the plan. Music, music, music. (And food from Magenta’s.)
Fourteen year old Luke wasn’t aware girls like Julie Molina existed though. That changed on the first day. She came to the front of the class, blew everyone away with a Taylor Swift cover and shot a toothy smile when she finished - like it was nothing. Like she didn’t have the voice of the century. (Like she wouldn’t mess with Luke’s plans of becoming the best, damn it!) Though his initial reaction was envy, he quickly realised it was rather a disgruntled crush than actual dismay.
She was cute. Still cute. After every summer break, he expected her to be less pretty so that his nerves could calm down for once. Nope. Julie Molina was pretty as hell.
He has never seen her here on Friday’s. Why now? Why now when they were mentally preparing themselves for a gig that could get them their asses kicked if they didn’t perform well? Luke needed to focus! Not think about where she’d sit and what she’d talk about and what she was going to eat.
His eyes tracked as Julie, Flynn and Kayla were in busy conversation, barely aware of their surroundings. Her head rolled back in a laugh at something Flynn said, eyes shut in glee. Luke flushed red, averting his gaze to the scratched up table. His friends were snickering, Alex muttering a ‘Jesus…’ under his breath.
Luke snapped his arm. “Stop being a dick.”
“Why don’t you just ask her out?”, Reggie pondered, absentmindedly making origami with the thin napkins.
“I think he needs to talk to her first to do that,” Alex teased before Luke could respond, earning another glare.
It wasn’t like he and Julie never spoke. They were seniors, they had multiple classes together and spent many hours cooped in the same music classroom. He was even part of her group project in junior year! They’ve talked! But it never lead to anything, his lingering stares falling for her oblivious profile, her never once looking back at him.
The connection Luke always craved hasn’t been there, though he always felt like they could have that. Musical spirits were alike, right? At least his crush wasn’t as hopeless as Reggie’s on Nora.
The girls chose a booth right next to theirs, Julie in his direct line of sight. Alex was buzzing in his seat from stifled laughter, visibly trying to not turn his head and address them. The guitarist felt like dying, not even the steaming plates of burgers set in front of them enough to lift his mood.
Luke leaned forward, voice a hiss. “I can talk to her. I just… haven’t felt the need to.”
Reggie patted his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to lie to us.”
Frustration began simmering his skin, the scowl deepening. He wasn’t lying! Maybe a little! He’s been waiting for the right time to approach her, say and do the right thing to sweep her off her feet like the fucking rockstar he was. Had he been preparing his lines since he was fourteen? Also maybe. They were being revised.
Alex often told him he shouldn’t put Julie on a pedestal. That she was just a girl. It made him wonder if he was the only one that first day of high school that felt it. That awestruck whooping in his chest from seeing her curls dance around her almond eyes and hear how each lyric was laced with a passionate smile. Even at fourteen was he aware of how special that was. Julie wasn’t just a girl. She was the coolest girl he’s ever met and he didn’t even know her that well. He couldn’t imagine actually becoming friends with her, uncovering all facets of her personality and not get overwhelmed by her Julie-ness.
Huh. His crush went deeper than he thought. Yikes.
At the end of the day, Luke could admit that he was simply a teenage boy nervous to talk to a girl. ‘Nervous’ was like a curse word to him though, that admission a secret he’d take with him to the grave.
“Eh,” Alex quipped, egging him on. “Luke’s a terrible liar. He doesn’t have to tell us for us to know it’s true.”    
His hands slammed down on the table, words spouting from his lips. “Girls! Can we get your napkin dispenser?!”
Fucking fantastic, Luke.
All three perked up in surprise, Flynn twisting in her booth to curl her nose and tilt her head. “Why?”
“It’s empty,” he bluffed.
Kayla craned her neck and instantly caught Reggie’s handiwork scattered across the table. “No, it’s not.”
Julie sat next to her, blinking in confusion. “Why do you need our napkins?”
Her smooth voice directed right at him caused a thrill up his spine, a grin involuntarily tugging on his lips. “Cause Reggie needs them for his crafts.” Playing along, the bassist lifted a janky frog with a wink. “I’m very dedicated.”
She matched Luke’s smile, amused. It was the most interaction he has had with her in months, the utter euphoria of it all bursting at the seams. Propelled by her smile, he slid out the booth and into Alex’ side, throwing his arms over the seat right next to Flynn’s head. The girl remained deeply unimpressed by him, gaze flicking past his physique. Damn. If he ever wanted to get anywhere with Julie, he had to get in Flynn’s good grazes. Kayla seemed chill though.
“What’s with the frown, Felicity?”, he joked.
Kayla giggled at the mention of Flynn’s actual name, the girl in question rolling her eyes. “All I’m wondering is why you have to bother us about napkins, Lukas.”
“Flynn,” Julie shook her head with an exasperated grin, “maybe wait for your strawberry shake? I think you’re being hangry.”
Her friend loosened up, sinking back in her seat with a playful pout and mumbling a resigned ‘fine.’
Luke took that as his sign to continue. His gaze fell back on Julie, hoping he wouldn’t sound too eager. “You guys come here a lot? I haven’t seen you here on Friday’s.”
“Who’re you asking?”, Julie asked, looking between her and Kayla. Oh, man. Small talk really wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t charm himself out of this one with music jargon or fake IDs.
His smile turned stressed, flailing his hand around. “Uh, all of you.”
“Sure,” Flynn snorted.
Alex slapped a hand on his mouth at her retort, almost in pain of not laughing his ass off. The prize of ‘Worst Friends Ever’ went to Luke’s - for fuck’s sake, couldn’t the drummer at least try and help him out?!
“Just wanted to celebrate Kayla’s good mark on her new song,” Julie continued, wilfully ignoring the other’s behaviour. Slinging an arm around her friend, she shot her a bright smile. “Her bridge was amazing, right?”  
All three boys nodded fervently as Kayla ducked her head bashfully, murmuring a ‘thank you’ and then relieved from all the attention when Nora walked up to them. Luke’s body didn’t twist to sit normally again, too invested in finally speaking to them, finally having that contact, that he didn’t even care if he seemed like a weirdo. Julie and him! Conversing!
“Speaking of music,” he casually uttered when Nora was off again. His signature smirk crawled on his lips. “We’re playing a gig tonight.”
This peaked Flynn’s interest. Perhaps the prospect of food made her more amicable. “Where?”
“Raven’s Nest,” Reggie proudly proclaimed.
Kayla frowned, worried. “Isn’t that the bar with all the bikes outside?”
“Thank you!”, Alex exclaimed with a sigh. “It’s insane!”
“It’s not,” Luke bit back. If Sunset Curve wanted to make it big, they had to play big! Gigs like these would get them on the stages they dreamed of. Soon, it was goodbye, Raven’s Nest and hello, The Orpheum! “Real Californians go there to hear real fucking music.”
To his surprise, Julie hummed in agreement. “My dad says it used to be where the subculture kids hung out before MP got cool.”
“Yes!” His grin was huge now, overflowing with joy. This was enough adrenaline to get him through three gigs at once! His finger pressed into the cracked leather. “Exactly! And we’re gonna slay it. You should come watch!”
The latter blurted out without wanting to, his eyes growing wide in panic as Reggie and Alex stilled in their seats and Flynn peered up at him with laser-focus. Shit. Was he telling on himself? Did she pierce through the charisma that this was just a poor attempt at flirting? God, he really should’ve prepared his speech for impulsive moments like these.
Luke still needed to endure some growing pains before he got good at flirting.
Julie chuckled, a hint of red appearing on her cheekbones. It enthralled him. Was she embarrassed or flattered? “Uh,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know if I can get in. Don’t you have to be eighteen?”
He raised his brow. “C’mon, you don’t have a fake?” At those words, Alex dropped his head on the table with a thud. Luke had enough of his own shit too. ‘Mortified’ didn’t even come close to how he felt about his blabbering mouth.  
Levelling his challenged look, however, he realised he wasn’t lost quite yet. Julie’s eyes glittered with mischief. “I do, actually.”
Breath caught in his throat. Yup. Coolest fucking girl in the universe. Julie Molina had a killer voice and a fake ID and probably did a whole lot of other dope stuff he hadn’t found out yet.
“Julie,” Flynn but in. “It’s a biker bar.”
“Where our classmates are playing,” she argued. “I can always try.”
“You’ll die.”
“I think I’ll be fine. Like Luke said-” No. She could not say his name and expect him to keep his cool. His fingers gripped the conjoined couch tighter. “-everyone’s there for the music.”
A careful smile slowly grew on Kayla. “We can tell your dad you’re with us.”
Flynn gaped at her. “We-?! I- okay.” Lifting her hands in surrender, she added: “Fine, we’ll tell Ray you’re at the movies with us.”
Wait, was Julie turning down a movie night with her friends to see him play? Did that mean something? Has he been so focused on trying to find or create a ‘vibe’ that he forgot to actually look for signs of her own? Damn. Now he really couldn’t screw this set up. Sunset Curve was gonna play until their hands bled, hopefully impressing her just a little bit.
It was settled then. After both groups had eaten, Julie separated from hers and joined them on their trek to Raven’s Nest. She was mostly talking to Reggie behind Alex and Luke, animatedly recounting a story about Carlos nearly crashing his drone in her keyboard. Jitters began to tingle his skin, that building excitement right before a gig mixing with Julie’s presence. It felt like one of his dreams materialised out of thin air.
How many times has he dreamt about catching her eye in the crowd as he crooned love songs he never dared to write? Granted, those dreams were centered in a hazier setting, Raven’s Nest quite unromantic opposed to that, but he would take what he got.
(And after, they’d worm their way through the masses of people, meeting halfway, and she’d sling her arms around his neck and he’d pull her into a kiss and it’d be electric. She’d kiss like she sang. It was a recurring dream that left him in a good mood for hours.)
Without much hesitance, the bouncer let Julie in. Luke, unable to keep his giddiness at bay, squeezed her shoulder as a dazzling beam was glued to his cheeks. Julie got in! Julie was going to see him play!
Raven’s Nest was expectedly filled with bearded, burly men. It reeked of beer and strong liquor, raucous chatter spilling from ever corner. They all probably looked like babies in comparison to these dudes, but he supposed his unfaltering confidence made up for it. Luke would get his boys (and Julie) through this. The stage was already prepared for them, amps and mics set up, Alex’ drums waiting in Reggie’s van behind the establishment.
“I’ve seen you play before, you know,” Julie mumbled beside him.
His heart soared without trying, its rate going a mile a minute as his jaw fell slack. All his nerves intensified till a blush crept on his cheeks. “You- you have?”
Her curious eyes flitted from the people to him, sheepish. “Yeah. At Ecliptica. You guys were good.”
A clammy hand raked the ends of his hair. Holy fucking shit. “You sounded like you never heard us before.”
“I didn’t want to seem like a fangirl, or something.” A secretive smile formed on her lips as she leaned into his side. “You know how school is. Everyone trying to be the best, but then act super casual about it?” Her eyes sparked in the yellow lighting, too close for him to think straight. “I didn’t want it to inflate you guys’ egos.”
Luke sputtered out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re doing it right now, Julie.”
“Then you better kill it,” she teased, nodding at Alex and Reggie hauling the drums onstage from the back door. “I think that’s your cue.”
There were two things he thought of right as he ascended the stage.
One, Julie was fat better at this whole back and forth than he was.
Two, he had to direct at least one song to her from their thirty minute set. Just one. Just so that his feelings might come across. Where words ended, music bled from his soul instead.
And so, the band exploded into what they knew best: burning the fucking house down.
So we’re taking the long way home 'Cause I don’t wanna be wasting my time alone I wanna get lost and drive forever with you Talking 'bout nothing, yeah, whatever, baby So we’re taking the long way home tonight We're taking the long way home
The giggly teenagers ended back in the diner after the incredible gig, shouting from the adrenaline and jostling arms to get points across. Even Julie joined in, much to his delight, tucked between him and the wall as she had a heated debate with an excited Reggie - harmonies versus basslines. Lemonades filled in condensed glasses gave them sticky fingers, hers once pushing his chin away when he told a particularly dumb joke and leaving an imprint. Luke was on fucking cloud nine.    
Taking the upper hand in the debate, Julie sang a bit of one of their songs (“Let's seize the day, let's run away, don't let the colours fade to grey!”) with all the tricks in the book, silencing Reggie just like that. Alex high fived Julie, the bassist admitting she won this time. Deeply relishing the sound of her singing voice, Luke barely caught what she was saying after.
“This time?”, she laughed. “There’s another time?”
“Why not?” Reggie wiggled his brows, unsubtle as hell when he shot Luke a wink. “Diner Friendship Memories Still To Be Made!”
Alex blinked. “What?”
Her eyes tracked past the boys, the smile turning more timid. It settled on Luke, the boy unable and unwilling to look away. He wanted this night to never end. Clasping her lemonade, she nodded firmly, as if signing Reggie’s silly Friendship Contract.
“Yeah… why not.”
Magenta’s Palace became Luke favourite place in the entire world. Every Friday, Julie joined the boys at their booth, sometimes Kayla and Flynn too. Huddled in those red leather seats with mountains of fries, they shared the first slivers of newfound friendship. Luke has always been very cautious about who he let in his circle (Sunset Curve against The World), but six people in a booth felt cosy rather than suffocating. Like it was always to be like this.
Reggie found an equally enthusiastic jazz lover in Kayla. Alex confided with Flynn that he followed her playlists on Spotify and was obsessed with her DJ skills.  
Luke and Julie created their own bubble without trying to.
It was weird. Maybe Alex was right and Luke did put her on a pedestal for so long. Julie was genuinely chill and easy to talk to, probably turned off by him before cause he had been acting like a blubbering idiot. Simply being himself was, surprisingly, more than enough for her. It lit a fire inside of him. Snarky banter about music that challenged him to keep up, overt flirting from him that kept her blushing, sudden ideas about lyrics that threw either for a loop. He wouldn’t admit it at first, but she made him a better songwriter.
Who knew his best songs would be found on stained paper napkins?  
One Friday night, long past midnight, the group stood outside as they bid each other a good weekend. Bathed in the pink glow of the LED lights, Luke felt it in his gut. He had to tell her. These past weeks his feelings had only grown tenfold, this incessant buzz rippling every atom of his body whenever she was close. Whenever she smiled, talked, sang. Stealing his beanie, eating his fries, sharing AirPods. Luke loved it all.  
It was a lot more than a simple crush.  
After Julie hugged Alex, Luke grabbed her into a tight hug. She instantly responded, wrapping her arms around his waist and burrowing herself in his red hoodie. His infatuated smile was hidden by her curls, so fucking happy he’d been impulsive enough to ask for a dispenser that day.
“Hey, Julie,” he whispered.
She looked up, eyes alight with an emotion that left his shivering. “Yeah?”
“Uh…” A smile trembled on his lips, unsure whether he wanted to drown in the pretty brown of her irises or continue talking. Now or never. “You wanna get breakfast tomorrow? With me?”
He didn’t have to live in the fear for long, a smile stretching across her cheeks as she shyly nodded. It was the first time he’d ever seen her this flustered, their hold on each other securing with quiet glee. Had he not been so mesmerised, the awestruck Luke would run a mile from the adrenaline rush.  
“Yeah,” she grinned, nose scrunched. “Sounds fun.”
They found themselves in the same spot the next day, the taste of syrupy pancakes melting with his as he kissed her on the parking lot of Magenta’s Palace. Julie’s lips curled into a smile and Luke figured there was no better feeling in the world then that.
(Yeah, he could get used to this.)
Saturday’s mornings had never been sweeter.  
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
@blush-and-books @willexx @bluefirewrites @unsaid-emily @ourstarscollided
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neonponders · 2 years
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✨Hogwarts Harringrove ✨ pt. 4 (pt. 1 • 2 • 3 • 5 • ao3)
It became a thing the very next day for Billy to tilt his head while looking at Steve, silently gesturing for them to go outside. For all of Billy’s subtly, Steve hollered, mouth full of chicken, “Can I eat first?”
The puzzled Hufflepuffs around Billy peered in between them, and then stared at Billy outright lifting his stuff and setting it down on the Ravenclaw table. Steve merely shook his head and returned to his food while Robin otherwise appraised, “Most people are too scared to sit here.”
Billy smirked venomously at her. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I’m not talking about fighting. I’m talking about Ravens being batshit crazy.”
Billy lifted a brow and glanced down the length of the table. Admittedly, he’d already picked up how Ravenclaws had a reputation for being either obnoxiously intelligent, or wildly eccentric. Robin smiled and reassured, “It’s not contagious unless you piss us off.”
Billy’s tongue moved over his teeth, feigning indifference as he observed, “Food’s no different at this table.”
Steve perked up with, “The chicken’s good,” before a hearty crunch sounded from the fried chicken. After wiping his fingers of grease, he nudged their glasses together to top up their juice as easily as letting the pour move over the rims. Billy took his cup silently, the need for food making the three of them silent until he ushered Steve outside.
“I’m comin’. I’m coming, but I have to get my brooms.”
“Go, then.”
“You wanna see the Gryffindor tower?”
Billy paused in the foyer outside the Great Hall. “Why do you ask?”
But Steve smiled like he knew Billy’s real question. “We’re allowed in each other’s dorms. Just no boys in the girls’ side. There’s enchantments to keep the boys out. Otherwise, it’s just a password to get in. Come on, you can see Max’s side of the castle.”
Billy followed behind him the way a large cat moves; slow, but full of muscle. For all of his lean bulk, though, he remarked, “You should’ve told me you were in a tower.”
“Stairs are good for you,” Steve returned as they arrived at a massive portrait of a well-sized woman in a silk gown. She looked like she still believed the Sun King and his fashions to be alive. “Genu mulieris.”
The portrait swung open, and Billy could not help but translate, “A woman’s knee?”
Steve shrugged. “She’s a dirty old woman, what can I say?”
They walked through the tunnel and Billy gazed up at the high ceiling. Then around them: at the carpeted floors, the plentiful, plush lounge furniture, and crackling fireplaces on both sides of the common room. It was empty since most of everyone was in their lunch hour or their classes, if not enjoying the weather before it became too cold to enjoy.
Billy sat on the arm of the couch while Steve went upstairs for the broom. When he returned, Billy asked, “There’s a locker room for the teams, isn’t there? Why not keep your brooms in there?”
Steve’s lips puckered as if he’d been caught mid-word as he stared at Billy. “Not while that dirty, rotten Michael Schimmer is on the Slytherin team. His parents paid for him to stay on the team even after he gut busted in the Gryffindor locker room.”
Just because Billy liked playing sports, didn’t mean he cared for the drama. “Excuse me, then. Can we get this moving?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, switching back to casual like nothing was wrong. “But don’t think that the whole Gryffindor team won’t come after you if something happens to my brooms, now that you know our password.”
Billy surprised him by staying rather quiet instead of making a retort. So in the interim, he gave the older broom to Billy and soon they had their second broom practice on the quidditch pitch.
Billy was a natural. He had the clumsiness of a new flyer, but his confidence showed in his magic, and the broom responded positively to him.
Thing is, Billy Hargrove knowing the Gryffindor password came with situations no one expected. Namely, the yelling fights between him and Max. They could clear a common room faster than the school’s poltergeists.
And the castle may be large, but word spread faster here than in Steve and Robin’s home town. Billy’s lunch locale became the Ravenclaw table, but by the end of the week, eyes peered at their trio like it was a truce with an expiration date.
Steve figured it was up to him to approach the subject with Billy. He liked Max a lot; he was certain Dustin had a crush on her, but she clearly got on with Lucas more. Either way, she was self-assured in the same way her brother was, and in short, cool as hell.
“Can I ask you something?” he ventured when Billy finished his lap around the pitch.
“If it doesn’t piss me off.”
“Sorry in advance.”
That brought him to a stop. “What?”
Steve sat astride his broom, arms crossed in his shrug. “You and Max?”
Billy’s eyes rolled hard enough for his shoulders to lean with it. “It’s none of your business.”
“Since I’m the only one brave enough to say it, the two of you are kind of making it the whole school’s business. I’m surprised the teachers leave you two alone.”
Billy sat tall on his broom, brushing nonexistent dust off his hands while he mulled over that. Steve dreaded that he wouldn’t reply; that he’d have to broach this subject again later and risk prodding a sleeping badger.
Then Billy looked sideways at him and said, “She talks about you.”
He as good as pinched Steve’s nose, he was so caught off guard. “Me?”
Billy laughed, only confusing Steve further. “You were unconscious, but she stopped the fight.”
A feeling Steve didn’t recognize sank into his gut. “I...didn’t know that.”
It was Billy’s turn to roll a shoulder. “I guess that’s why the teachers leave us alone. They know I won’t touch her.”
“But fuck me, I guess,” Steve grumbled.
Billy chuckled low in his chest. “Don’t invite me if you don’t mean it.”
Steve gazed at him, tongue stuck between his teeth as his jaw slid to the side, contemplating this guy’s gall. “It’s my personal rule to not screw the person who gave me a black eye before the bruise is gone.”
Billy could take being let down with grace...even if it still showed on his features. He deflected with, “Where do people even go for a good time around here?”
Steve brightened right up. “Hogsmeade! Oh, as upper classmen, we have a whole Hogsmeade season, not just scheduled visitation rights - but if you don’t want to see something scarring, don’t ever go to the bottom of the Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff posts.
He pointed to the tall, cubic spires lining the pitch, each one draped with one of the Houses’ memorabilia. “Why only those two?”
Steve sighed heavily, as if Billy had touched on something annoying. “Ravens are like band kids. Weird and horny. Puffs are uniquely game for anything. So their posts are the cherry spots. The long-term people save up to rent a room in Hogsmeade.”
“Band kids,” Billy’s eyes widened comically. “You magic-types deal with those too?”
Steve turned his broom to drift off the pitch. “All I’m saying is, the French horns give good head and the drummers say that they’re tops, but they’re all switches.”
All at once, Billy floated beside him. “Stories. Now.”
“No!”
Whether for better or worse, Steve had done his job on Billy, because the guy chased Steve all over the pitch.
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WIP snippet
I was tagged by the delightful @missroserose to share a snippet of what I’m working on! “Working on” is maybe not the moooooost accurate characterization lately, but I’m trying to get back into a groove. Life stuff, man. Ugh. 
Anyway, please enjoy an excerpt from the Christmas fic I failed to finish eight months ago, and that continues to spiral out of control. It was supposed to be a one-shot! Now it has five chapters! Fingers crossed it will be released into the wild in December. 
Billy isn’t surprised when it’s Robin who opens Steve’s front door; he’s a little late, so Steve is almost surely in the midst of making dinner. He is surprised when she steps out onto the porch and closes the front door behind her. Billy blinks at her. She isn’t wearing a coat, and it’s freezing. 
“Todd is here,” she says, voice pitched just above a whisper. Billy just stares at her blankly for a moment before the sentence sinks in. 
“Steve brought his boyfriend back to Hawkins? For the holidays?” It isn’t the first time Steve has dated someone since he left for college, obviously, but it is the first time he’s brought anyone home. Billy tries to fight off the surge of disappointment that he will not, apparently, be spending the bulk of this winter break in Steve’s bed, the way he always does when they’re home at the same time. They’ve been hooking up whenever they see each other for the past three years, since the first time Steve came back to Hawkins from college for a visit.   
“What the fuck?” Billy whispers back. “Wait, how did you not know he was coming before now?” Steve and Robin share an apartment in Chicago; she knows everything about his life. Robin rolls her eyes. 
“I found out about it when I showed up here tonight. Apparently Steve found out, like, two days ago that his parents are coming back to town for Christmas this year. He mentioned it to Todd and Todd wanted to come meet them.” It’s Billy’s turn to roll his eyes. Steve’s parents haven’t been back to Hawkins since the summer before Steve left for college. 
“Now they care about coming home for Christmas? They suck so much,” Billy says with feeling. “And so does Todd.” He’s never actually met Todd, but Billy has felt that way about every single one of Steve’s significant others, so he’s pretty sure he’s right. Robin just shrugs.
“Ready for an awkward dinner?” she asks. Billy sighs and closes his eyes, taking a second to breathe. He’s a lot better than he was in high school, but he still isn’t the best at rolling with disappointment. And Steve’s stupid boyfriend and his stupid parents both showing up to ruin Billy’s holiday plans is very fucking disappointing. He takes deep, even breaths until he feels a little less murderous. Robin waits; she knows the drill. Finally, he rolls his shoulders and opens his eyes.  
“Ladies first,” he says, gesturing toward the door. Robin snorts, but leads the way.   
Billy follows her inside, taking off his shoes and his coat and dropping his bags in the entryway. He hasn’t stayed with Neil in years and has no intention of doing it now, but apparently the Harrington house is going to be unexpectedly crowded this year. Billy tries to shove down the tiny voice of worry that insists that he won’t be allowed to stay here; that’s a problem for future Billy. 
The house smells heavenly, as it always does when Steve is cooking, and there’s music playing softly in the background. Opera, Billy notes, which means Steve is feeling off-balance; he always goes back to the music his mother loves when he isn’t sure of himself. Billy pauses in the entryway to the kitchen for a moment before he goes in. Steve is at the stove, his back to the room, dipping a spoon into a pot and tasting the contents. He adds a splash of wine from his glass before taking a long sip. A really long sip, actually, which is a bad sign. As is the tight line of his shoulders under his dark red sweater. Billy takes a closer look, and doesn’t like what he finds; he hasn’t seen Steve this anxious in a long time. Todd is sitting on the counter behind Steve, sipping his own wine and alternating between watching Steve at the stove and staring at his phone. He looks up when Robin comes in, and his glance flicks immediately to Billy. He frowns, which Billy feels is a little unfair. He hasn’t even had a chance to be a dick yet.
I’m tagging @magniloquent-raven @platypanthewriter​ @cupidsintern​ and @honeydewmelo​--if you feel like it, share a WIP snippet! 
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BBRAEWEEK 2021 July 26th – Poolside
Getting a pool on top of Titans Tower was honestly not the Sisyphean task Cyborg had expected it to be.
Finding a space in the Justice League and Titans’ schedule when everyone would be free to come to said pool’s christening party? That was an event the Catholic Church would probably erase to make sure their Easter Calendar would fall on the proper time table.
But however they managed it, Cyborg thought, as he flipped another burger onto the grill, the fact that all charter members of both teams were able to attend was a helluva turn out.
Especially considering the party pooper who was standing beneath the griller’s sun umbrella in full bat-regalia, probably trying not to die from heat stroke.
“I got some plastic forks just for you,” Cyborg said.
“It’s not funny anymore,” Batman said, watching as Bart tried and failed to dunk Kiran under the water. The young speedster instead found himself forced underwater by a sneak attack from Donna.
“It’s funny as until you use your hands to eat a burger.”
Batman grunted, shifting out of the grill’s smoke when the wind changed. Note to self, Cyborg thought, invent smoke inhibiting device for grill.
“I hope I don’t have to tell you that pools require maintenance. And showers afterwards.”
“The pool contains a bacteria-eating enzyme that’s safe for contact with the skin,” Said Cyborg, throwing some asparagus on the grill, “Also means that teammates who breathe water don’t have to worry about burning their nose hairs off.”
“That explains why Arthur has just been sitting on the bottom,” Batman said, “but then again, he’s mentioned sleeping in the bathtub more than once, so I thought it was just something he did.”
Cyborg had to laugh at that.
“It also dies on contact with saline. So it’s also environmentally friendly.”
“Did you see Tim put on sunscreen?” Batman said, giving no sign he’d heard the last part (a shame, thought Cyborg, I’d trust him with the patent).
“I think so,” Cyborg replied, “Would you hand me that corn?”
“What about Dick?” Batman asked, handing Cyborg two ears as Superman landed, carrying a king-sized cooler.
“If he’s not wearing sunscreen, he should at least be wearing a hat.”
“Wearing a hat? Man, you’re wearing a cape in July! At the pool!”
“You’re wearing a hat.”
“It’s a chef’s hat. It’s called loosening up. Ever thought of it?”
Batman’s frown deepened, but Cyborg did notice how he wasn’t corrected.
“By the way,” he said, ignoring the Dark Knight’s grimace, “have you seen Gar? He said he had to go get a pool noodle.”
“That was the last time I saw him,” Batman replied, “Raven too.”
Cyborg looked up from the grill.
“Raven’s gone?”
Batman pointed to a lawn chair beneath three beach umbrellas, a book sitting where a girl had once been.
“She was reading Clive Barker’s Imajica when I arrived.”
“Maybe she finished the book,” Cyborg said with a shrug of his cybernetic shoulders.
“That book has 824 pages if it’s a first edition. It would take 21 hours and 39 minutes to finish that book if she read 250 words per minute.”
A scream drew their attention to the pool, only for the tension to drain when it turned out to be just a splash fight between Diana and Billy.
“I can do a search of the tower, if you can give me security clearance and…”
“Found her.”
Walking out of the rooftop entrance, Raven had returned, seemingly unharmed. She made her way past Wally and Hal who were unboxing Super Soakers (no doubt to begin an all-out water war) and sat back down in her shaded chair.
“Any idea where she’s been?” Batman asked.
“Probably in the mystic realm of “not our business,” Cyborg said, flipping a burger onto a bun and handing it to Batman.
“Here. Go see if she wants a bite. She hasn’t…”
Cyborg trailed off before squinting towards the direction where Raven had come.
“What is it?” Batman asked.
“I’ve got a database that says leopard geckos aren’t native to North America. Also, they’re not primarily green and don’t wear Kat Von D Everlasting black Liquid Lipstick. Would you mind bringing that to me?”
With speed and agility only found in most Olympic hurdlers, the Dark Knight had crossed the roof and snatched the lizard from its resting place, returning to his place by the grill.
“I assume that this is actually Beast Boy?” said Batman, holding the gecko by its mid-section.
“Yup.”
The tiny lizard’s form changed, going from reptile to human in the time it took to blink. And he was indeed wearing smeared black lipstick.
“Hey guys,” Beast Boy said, sheepishly, “couldn’t find the pool noodle. Think Star would mind if I used her inner tube?”
“Bats, would you mind giving us some privacy? Young people talk.”
Batman shrugged and headed for the row of chairs where Raven was sitting. Cyborg turned back to Beast Boy, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
“So, what’s with the make up?”
Beast Boy pointed to his mouth.
“Oh! This! This is just from a black licorice lollipop!”
Beast Boy licked his lips, trying to hide the grimace from the taste of what obviously wasn’t black licorice lollipop.
“Mmmm. Good.”
“Really?” Cyborg said, “because I could swear that I’ve seen Rae wear that exact shade of lipstick. In fact, I think she’s wearing it right now.”
“EVERYONE IN THE POOL!!!!”
With bounds worthy of a gazelle, Beast Boy charged towards the water, leaping gracelessly into the pool.
Cyborg smiled and shook his head before returning to the grill. Maybe he’d throw an extra vegan kabob on for BB to make up for the ribbing.
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platypanthewriter · 3 years
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The Devil Looks After His Own Ch2
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Part 1:  Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV--but luckily, it doesn't work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later.  Years later, they're best friends, and Steve still doesn't know the truth.  For @magniloquent-raven​!
The other thing that Billy did that no other grown-ups Steve knew had ever done was have sex in bathrooms.  He wasn’t sure for a while—because Billy always made sure Steve was fine, settled with his pancakes at IHOP, or in the play area at Fred Meyer—but Billy would leave for about twenty minutes, and come back sweaty and grinning, and kind of tired.  
Steve snuck after him, once, and saw someone holding Billy’s wrists against the wall of the bathroom and kissing him, sliding his hand down to unbutton Billy’s jeans and pull his penis out, and Steve had stared through his fingers just long enough to see Billy grinning into the kisses, and shifting his hips.  
Steve’d run back to his pancakes, his heart pounding.  
He realized, thinking about it as he drew designs in the syrup with his fork, that Billy was that thing he’d heard yelled when somebody kissed boys—a slut—and he wondered whether it mattered.  Billy did everything he was supposed to do, and he was nice, and stuck around with Steve in the shoe section while Steve tried on every single pair, and then when Steve didn’t want any of them, Billy took him to three more stores.  
It couldn’t be a bad thing, Steve thought, biting his lips, not if Billy was one.
When the guy who’d been kissing Billy walked out—he had gray speckled feathered wings, so Steve was pretty sure it was him, even from the back—Steve ducked his head down over his pancakes.  By the time Billy wandered back, still grinning, to slump in the booth, Steve’s jaw had firmed.  Billy had looked happy, and he was okay, Steve was pretty sure.  Probably.  Even if it was the kind of thing that made parents yell like they did when they were scared. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, his cheeks reddening again, keeping his eyes on his eggs.  Billy sat up and faced him, flattening his hands on the table.  
“What,” he asked, levelly.
“Are you okay,” Steve mumbled stubbornly, hunching his shoulders.  “Y-you looked—okay.  H-happy.”
“...you followed me,” Billy whispered, his fingers clenching into fists.  “Shit.  Uh, darn. ...it.”  
“I won’t tell,” Steve said, shrugging awkwardly, and wishing he hadn’t been worried enough to see where Billy was going, because now he was more worried.  “If—if you’re okay.”
“...I’m fine,” Billy said, which was what he’d said when Steve’s dad had threatened to fire him, and Steve wasn’t sure he believed it.  
He forced himself to look up at Billy, surveying his just-washed face, and how pale he’d gotten since Steve opened his dumb mouth.  “I’m not mad,” he said, which was weird to say to a grownup, but Billy looked like he might want to know.  
“Just disappointed?” Billy asked, laughing, and grimacing.
“No,” Steve said quickly.  “I-I’m not.”  He’d been thinking about Tommy’s elder sister, and how she’d gotten in big trouble when their parents found condoms in her room—and how he and Tommy had hidden at the top of the stairs, listening to Tommy’s parents yell.  “Um are you u-using condoms,” he asked as fast as he could, and Billy choked on the water he was sipping, coughing and thumping himself in the chest.  
“Kid,” he spluttered, and Steve made a face at him.
“Are you?” he hissed.  “You have to be safe.  I love you.”
Billy stared at him for a long second, until Steve started feeling embarrassed, even though it was just what he said every night, as Billy put him to bed.  “...love you too, brat,” he finally muttered back, leaning his face in his arms on the table with a deep sigh.  “I’m...fine.”
“I don’t believe you,” Steve said, his cheeks heating further, because he’d found Billy that very morning trying to fill a sandwich with chunky soup.  “We should—we should talk to—to my mom, or a teacher.  So—so you can be safe—”
“Oh my god,” Billy mumbled, folding his arms over his head.  His ears were very red.  “I can’t catch anything from a human, okay, I’m not gonna get syphilis.”
Steve had no idea what that was, but it didn’t make him any less worried.  He took a bite of egg as the server came over and asked how his breakfast was, and he nodded to her, smiling, even though he was so worried the egg tasted like nothing.  “Wh-what about saying no,” he whispered to Billy, as soon as she was gone.  “You, um, you can say no to—to uh, things, right?”
“I can and I do, kiddo,” Billy laughed, sliding his hand over to link their pinkies, his face still hidden in his other arm.  “I’m okay, Stevie, I swear.  You made sure I could say no, remember?”
“You’re still bad at it,” Steve said, because usually Billy scooped him up and put him in the bath, or in bed, even if Steve was laughing and yelling ‘Nope!  No!  You jerk, I’m still eating!’, but sometimes Steve would forget, and tell Billy to do something, and Billy would take a deep breath and hold very still until Steve remembered.
“Sure, with you,” Billy said, raising his head enough to grin lazily at Steve, and Steve couldn’t help smiling back.
“We should talk to—to somebody,” he said, stubbornly.  “A—a real grownup.”
“I’m real,” Billy huffed.
“Somebody older,” Steve hissed, and Billy made a face.  
“I’m older than your dad,” he muttered, crossing his arms.
“But you—you’re not human,” Steve reminded him.  “You—you’re like a teenager.  You said.”
“Nooo, come on, kiddo, lemme alone,” Billy groaned.  “I’m old enough.” 
Steve narrowed his eyes and grabbed Billy’s phone, and typed s-a-f-e into the search bar, and then braced himself, and tapped s-e-x.  He hunched his shoulders, his face burning, and hit search.  He found a lot of...things, and squeaked in a kind of dying way through his hand.
Billy snatched the phone back, looked at it, and said “Oh my god.  Stevie.  Stop.  I will research it myself, and I—I will be careful.  Okay?” 
Steve buried his hot face in his hands, nodding, and trying to suppress horrified giggles.  He kinda wanted to turtle into his jacket, or crawl away under the tables, but he just pulled his knees up on the seat, and tried not to whine like a tea kettle.  
Billy grimaced, scrolling through his phone, and Steve realized—while his ears probably smoked with the imagery he’d seen about things in butts—that Billy’s shoulders were up, and he had his arms crossed in front of himself too.
“Sorry,” Steve wheezed, through his fingers.  “Y-you aren’t—you aren’t gross!  Sorry!  I just—I just love you and—I have to keep you safe—”
“I have to keep you safe,” Billy told him, grinning, and shaking his head.  “I’m more grown up than you, fetus.”  His cheeks were pink, and Steve scowled at him, then kicked at his knees under the table.
“You’re bad at some things!” he hissed, as Billy yelped, swinging his legs away.  “I have to help, I have to help you—”
Billy shushed him, laughing, and then opened his mouth, and closed it, as Steve sipped at his hot chocolate.  Billy waved at it, and suddenly it was hot again like it had just come from the kitchen, and had rainbow sprinkles, and Steve sighed, wanting to—hug him, or something, and feeling the same annoying worry he always felt when he wasn’t doing enough.  He knew Billy’d stay, he told himself, as long as he could.  
As long as Steve could keep him wanting to.
“Finish your pancakes,” Billy told him, grinning.  “Gonna take you to the park.”
Steve liked the park okay, mostly because it was where they went when somebody was happy with him, but it was also worrying, because it was where they went when his parents wanted him to shut up and go play.  He was pretty sure this time was both, but when they got out to the parking lot, Billy grabbed him and spun him around so his legs swung around in the air, and hugged him the whole way to the car, and when they got there, he didn’t send Steve off to play while Billy talked on his phone, so it was Good Park Reasons.
“You’re not...mad,” Steve asked, cautiously, and Billy laughed, squeezing him tighter.
“Nah,” he said.  “You?”
“Naaaah,” Steve giggled back, drawing out the syllable.  
 There was a pattern to Billy being a slut, Steve noticed, because if it was Billy, it couldn’t be a bad word.  They’d be out, and somebody would see Billy, or Billy’d see them, and Steve would see them staring at each other.  “I’m going to go listen to storytime,” he’d announce, or “Look, there’s a play area here, I’m gonna go ride the bouncy horse.”
“Me too,” Billy said once, cheerfully, grinning at him, and Steve shook his head.  
“They don’t allow grownups on the bouncy horse,” he said slowly, wishing he didn’t have to tell Billy sad things when he was grinning, but Billy just laughed, hugged Steve’s head—messing up his hair—and walked off.
 When Steve had to start first grade, he clung to Billy the night before, and Billy carried him around for two hours, making him giggle as they made popcorn and watched cartoons on Netflix, and then pulled a big wrapped present out of nowhere.  It was a new LEGO set, one Steve had never even heard of, a dragon that could transform into a pirate ship.  
“Is it that weird?” Billy asked, grimacing at it, while Steve stared, and Steve threw his arms around Billy’s neck, shaking his head.  
“I don’t want to go to school.  I want to stay home with you,” Steve said into Billy’s shoulder, and sighed.  
“Maybe I should put it away, then,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows.  “I was saving it for when you had to go back to school, but if you don’t want it—”
“I want it!” Steve yelped, scrambling back out of Billy’s lap to huddle around it.  “I want it, I want it!”
“Okay,” Billy told him, ruffling his hair.  “We probably won’t finish it tonight, but once you make a ton of friends, I’ll need something super cool to get you to hang out with me, right?”
“No,” Steve told him, laughing.  “You’re my best friend.”
Billy laughed, but he didn’t look convinced, so when he got the fruit snacks out after dinner, Steve gave him all the blue ones—they tasted best—and the trucks, which were biggest.
“Ah,” said Billy, biting his lips together.  “They’re very...warm,” because they’d gotten a little sticky as Steve waited for him to finish the dishes, but he crouched and pulled Steve into a tight hug.  
 Steve fell asleep curled up against Billy’s shoulder, and woke up in his bed, with his mom shaking him awake.  
“I told Billy we don’t need him during the school year,” she said, frowning at her phone.  “During the day, anyway.  He’ll still come by and feed you, and put you to bed.”
She wandered off, and Steve wondered, clutching his blankets, whether anyone would make him breakfast.  He climbed out of his bed feeling kind of...bad, like he’d had a nightmare, and might cry.  He sniffled, and rubbed his face, and stayed in his pajamas until after breakfast, trying not to think about his usual mornings, with Billy pretending he was an out-of-control backhoe and scooping him out of bed, or Billy humming at the stove as he made Steve eggs and toast.  
Steve’s eyes leaked a little, and he stomped to the bathroom and blew his nose, feeling like a big baby for missing Billy so much.  He got himself cereal, and remembered shopping for it—Billy’d slowly taken over all the things Steve’s mom and dad used to do, like buying him new school clothes, and taking him to the doctor—and Billy had let him pick out things his mom never would have, weird fruits they didn’t know how to eat, and once, because Steve had liked it, a set of footie pajamas with rainbows and unicorns that was definitely for girls.  
He’d warned Steve, once they were back in the car, that sometimes people were mean to boys who wore unicorns, and Steve had held up his middle fingers, the way he was allowed to do when their downstairs neighbor called Billy mean names.
“You tell ‘em, tiger,” Billy had said, laughing.  
 The day school started, Steve hugged himself in the soft unicorn pajamas, and pulled the hood over his head.  He tried to stop crying so he could go finish breakfast, but he kept thinking of awful things, like what if Billy didn’t come on weekends anymore, and it was just Steve all alone in the house, and what if nobody bought food at all, and what if Billy was taking care of some new kid he liked better.  His mom found him bawling on the toilet, and groaned.
“You have to go to school even if you cry,” she said flatly, and Steve nodded, sniffling.  
“C-can I call Billy,” he whispered, his voice sounding kind of funny, like he was sick.
She rolled her eyes, sighing, but handed him her phone, and he fiddled with it until she yanked it back, clicked around, and handed it back, ringing.
“Yes ma’am?” came Billy’s voice, and Steve stood up.
“BILLY!” he yelled, and Billy laughed.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said, “—did you need something?  You know I’ll see you after school, right?”
“I miss you,” Steve told him, with another sniffle, and Billy started making all these shushing, calming noises, like the time Steve had fallen down the outside stairs of the apartment building, and Billy’d been more freaked out than Steve was.  
Steve giggled, wetly.  “Um,” he asked, clearing his throat, “—are—are you with a...different kid?”
“No!” Billy laughed.  “No way, short stuff, I’m just at the laundromat, okay?”
“If you get a different kid,” Steve said, stubbornly, around the hard lump in his throat, “—they have to let you say no.  They have to tell you you can say no, you have to—”
“I’m okay, Stevie,” Billy said, sounding a little teary himself.  “I’m gonna see you today, and we’re both okay, okay?  We’re gonna both be fine.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I wouldn’t be there this morning, I didn’t know either, okay?”
“...okay,” Steve mumbled, glaring up at his mom, who was inspecting the edges of her false nails.
“I’ll talk to you later, all right, my man?” Billy asked, and Steve nodded, swallowing.
“Later,” he managed.
“So dramatic,” his mom said, grabbing her phone back, and hanging up.  
 Steve waited for the school bus with four older kids who kept screaming and pretending to shove each other into traffic.  He rubbed his nails up and down his backpack straps, making a wsht wsht wsht noise, and worried about Billy.  It was hot already in the sun, and he squinted watching for the bus.
The teachers met them by the bus, and they did a roll call, different loud voices yelling out their names.  Right after Steve’s name was called was Billy Hargrove, by the same teacher, and that was Billy’s name, his whole name that Steve’s parents used.  Steve spun, huge-eyed, to see a kid run up, his age, but definitely Billy, and Steve threw both arms around him, trying not to cry.  
“Is this okay?” Billy asked, stiff and nervous, and Steve squeezed him tighter, feeling how small he was, Steve’s size or even littler, but still with his pretty hair, and his earring.  
“You two are friends, huh?  That’s nice,” the teacher told them, smiling, and Steve nodded at her.  
“He’s my Billy,” he said, unable to stop smiling, or let go of Billy.  Billy looked kind of startled, and proud of himself, the way he did when he cooked something right the first time, or found the boy’s shoe section.
“Are you gonna come all the time?!” Steve whispered, and Billy shrugged, raising his eyebrows.  
“Maaaaybe,” he whispered back, but he was smiling as huge and goofily as Steve, and Steve missed paying attention to half the first day of class, he was so excited.  Once he got Billy alone, at recess, around the side of the gym, he hugged him again, and Billy laughed.
“Are you a genie,” Steve asked, half serious, and Billy stilled again.
“...what d’you mean,” he asked, cautiously, and Steve laughed.  
“You keep giving me wishes,” he said.  “You gave me a best friend.  And I’m not lonesome at school.  And the LEGO dragon,” he told Billy, holding both his hands.  “That’s three wishes.”
Billy was watching him uncertainly, and Steve was happy, not mad, so he leaned in and kissed the end of Billy’s nose.  Billy squirmed away, laughing.
“That’s not all, though,” Steve told him, grabbing his hands again.  “You got me Honey Nut Cheerios yesterday.  I know we were out of them, Billy.  You got my mom the job she wanted...I think,” he said, because he’d had suspicions, but Billy grimaced guiltily, and then he was sure.  
“I got a best friend out of it too,” he muttered, glaring at Steve.  Steve grinned at him, and Billy sighed.  “Don’t worry, you’re not gonna run out of wishes, I’m not the guy from Aladdin.”
“You’re a genie?” Steve whispered, bouncing a little on his toes, and leaning in too close, probably, his weight squishing Billy’s shoulder blades against the cement wall of the gym, but then he remembered that Billy was bad at saying no.  He stepped back.  “Um, do you—do you need help?”
“I’m okay,” Billy said, laughing again.  As a kid, his cheeks were kind of pink and round, and Steve clenched his fists so he wouldn’t get grabby.  
“Could—could people make you do things?” Steve asked, biting his lip.
“You could,” Billy said, smiling, and turning even pinker.  “But you don’t.”
“I won’t,” Steve nodded.  “Is there—is there something people could—could someone steal you,” he asked, his voice cracking as the horrible thought occurred to him, and Billy shook his head, laughing.  
“It’s not exactly like that, there’s no lamp, or anything,” he said, glancing at Steve, and then frowning at the ground.  “I-I’m not exactly a genie.  I’m—I’m just yours, as long as you want me.”
“Oh,” Steve said, in a small voice, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky, and also feeling like this was an even bigger responsibility than a puppy.  “Um.”  
“Or you can send me away,” Billy said, smiling, a little.  “If you get bored.”
“I wouldn’t ever,” Steve said, pulling him into a hug again, and sighing into his smaller, softer shoulder.  “Um, unless—unless you want me to.”
Billy shook his head, hugging Steve back.  
 He knew even less about first grade than Steve did, which was kind of weird, but fun, because Steve got to show him how to sharpen pencils, and clean the whiteboard, and Billy listened to books like he had no idea what was gonna happen, even books Steve had heard over and over before.  
“Your new friend’s kinda dumb,” Tommy Hagen said, glaring at Billy, and Steve scowled.
“He’s smart!  And he’s pretty, and he’s nice,” Steve hissed, and stomped away, and Tommy knocked into him every chance he got after that, spilling Steve’s paint and his glitter and his cheerios, but the teacher was a fairy, and she waved everything tidy, hovering about three inches off the floor in annoyance.
“Read me the next one,” Billy whispered, when Steve went to find out what he was doing by the bookshelf.
“...you can read, though,” Steve said, and Billy nodded, sitting next to him, and leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.  
“I was up early,” he mumbled, and Steve put an arm around him, and read him the story.  
 He turned back into himself—the Billy Steve was used to—after school, and Steve watched him, fascinated.  
“What do you really look like?” he asked, and Billy shot him a frown, clenching his hands around the steering wheel.
“Uh, what does that...mean,” he asked, and Steve watched him, wondering if Billy’s shoulders hunched up when he was nervous because that’s what humans did, and Billy was copying, or whether that was what genies did, too.  
“I just wondered,” Steve said, shrugging, and he looked away, trying to look uninterested.  “You don’t have to tell me.  Uh, recess is uh, fun, huh?  Um, I like the tire swing.  We should, uh, we should...make a snack.  At home.  Later.”
Billy laughed.  “You’re such a good kid,” he said, grinning over, and Steve’s whole face reddened.  
He nearly swallowed his tongue.  “I—I’m normal,” he said, and Billy reached over and ruffled his hair.  
“I dunno, kiddo, you seem pretty great to me.”  Steve groaned, hiding his bewildered grin in his arms, and Billy was quiet for a long second, before saying “...it’s not like here, where I’m from.  I can’t...be like I am there.”
“Oh,” said Steve, nodding a lot, because he had no idea what that meant.  
“This is how I look here,” Billy said, smiling over.  “There’s no big secret.”
“Ohhhh,” Steve said, nodding again, kind of disappointed, but considering the genie from Aladdin—the only genie he knew of.  “It’s probably easier, having feet,” he offered, and Billy snickered.  
“Yeah, yeah, it is.”
The real thing Steve wanted to ask seemed kind of...big, bigger than whether Billy was secretly blue.  “Um,” he said, frowning down at his hands.
“...what’s up, bud?” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows, and Steve made a face.
“Uh, where did you...go?  When my mom said you had to leave.  Do you…”
“I told you, I took everything to the laundromat,” Billy said quickly, and Steve shook his head.  
“No, I mean...where do you...live,” he whispered.  “I thought...I thought you lived at my house.  You never left before.” 
“I’m okay, I’m fine,” Billy said quickly, and Steve bit his lips together, kind of hating his mom.  “I just, y’know.  I don’t sleep, exactly, I found a cafe—”
“That won’t work,” Steve said, feeling the weight of Billy being his, and setting his jaw.  “I’ll...I’ll tell her I need you to make breakfast.  I’ll make a big mess of the kitchen—”
“Don’t worry about me, kiddo,” Billy said, laughing.  “It’s not like she made me go home.”
“It’d be nice if you did have a lamp,” Steve sighed.  “With little stuff in it, you know, like Polly Pocket.  You could go in there when you wanted to.”  Billy started laughing, cackling so hard he pulled over and folded his arms on the steering wheel, and when he looked over, finally, Steve stuck his tongue out.  “It’s not that funny,” he huffed.
Billy beamed at him, and ruffled his hair again, roughly, like he was trying to mess Steve’s hair up, and wiped his eyes.  “You know what I can do,” he said, softly, leaning close, and Steve leaned towards him.  The vinyl of his seat creaked.
“Why are we whispering?” he asked.
“I can change size,” Billy told him, grinning.  “You want to build me somewhere to live, Stevie?  With your LEGOs?”
“Ohhhh,” Steve gasped, staring at him.  “Let’s go home right now,” he whispered back.  “Do—do you want a castle?  Or a—a death star,” he whispered through his fingers, his voice squeaking.  “A ship?!”
“We can look at all the options,” Billy said seriously, and Steve stomped his feet on the floor of the car like drum beats, he was so excited.  
 He had homework when they got home, writing about his summer, and he groaned.  
“You can do that while I fix dinner,” Billy said, like it didn’t even matter that Billy could be the right size to open the doors in Steve’s LEGO haunted mansion.  It was hard to focus on his math worksheet for that and a lot of other reasons, like Steve got addition, it made sense, he didn’t need to think to remember what 2+3 was, and also Billy was cooking, and that was hard to ignore.  
He was making mashed potatoes, and Steve was girding himself to eat them, watching Billy frown around the kitchen and then shove the potatoes in the blender, click it to make it go, and listen to it struggle.  Billy turned it off again and glanced worriedly back at Steve, who pretended to be working very hard on his worksheet.
The fridge door opened, and Steve tried to watch surreptitiously—and sure enough, Billy had figured out that the blender needed liquid, and he was pouring Steve’s dad’s kombucha-cola into the blender with the potatoes.  
Steve tried not to grimace, but then Billy sniffed it, made a face, and pushed two pickles into the mess, and he couldn’t help asking “Um, what do you eat?”
“What,” Billy hissed, turning to hide the blender from Steve with his body.  “I eat—food.  You’ve seen me!”
“You, uh, I think maybe you didn’t used to,” said Steve, watching the greyish-greenish color the mashed potatoes were turning with fascination.  “So, um…”
“I’m not hurting anybody,” Billy said, hunching his shoulders like Steve might think maybe he did, and Steve scoffed, turning to a worksheet page on using ‘a’ or ‘an’ in sentences, which was even worse.
“I know you aren’t,” he told Billy, rolling his eyes, and Billy laughed, relaxing a little.  “What d’you eat, though?”
“...I don’t…” Billy trailed off, grimacing.  “I don’t eat like you do.”
“Oh,” Steve nodded, watching his face hopefully, and then frowning at the worksheet.  “Are you like a tree?”
“...sort...of,” Billy muttered, rubbing his face, and Steve realized Billy was turning red.  “When I...make people...happy, it’s like...sun.  For a...tree.  In a...way.”
“You make me happy all the time,” Steve told him, and Billy made a face, turning redder, and Steve let himself look away from the worksheet, trying to remember whether ‘y’ was a vowel.  He watched the wet, brownish-greeny-grey potatoes whirling soupily around in the blender.  “I mean, except for sometimes when you won’t look up recipes online.”
“They’re impossible to fuck up,” Billy moaned, grabbing his phone, and frantically typing.  “I can’t mess up mashed potatoes, Billy, nobody can mess up mashed potatoes—”
“Whoever said that didn’t know you’re not human,” Steve told him, “—because that’s, uh.”  
Billy switched the blender off, sighing heavily as he stared at the slow bubbles rising through the muck.  “...cereal?” he offered, defeatedly.
“Cereal is good,” Steve said, guessing that ‘an’ was correct and writing it in, and Billy groaned.
“How about I have Mr. Johnstone remember you when he’s taking his cookies out of the oven, and bring you some?” Billy asked, and Steve brightened.  
“How come you can’t make me want to do my homework,” he huffed, and Billy paused, frowning over at him.  
“Is that what you...want?” he asked.  
“....no,” Steve said, because Billy’s eyes were smoking, a little, for the first time in months, and also it did sound kind of weird.  “...have you...ever?”
“Ever what,” Billy said, staring at him, and starting to pour Steve’s milk on the counter, instead of into a bowl.
“Billy!  Bowl!” Steve yelped, pointing, and Billy grabbed a bowl, fumbled it, and then dropped it, so it smashed all over the kitchen floor.  
“Fuck,” he hissed, waving his hand, and the glass pieces all flew up to be a bowl again.  Billy leaned back against the counter, his shoulders slumped, rubbing his face.
“...wow,” Steve whispered, because Billy rarely did anything obvious, it was always ‘Oh, no, Steve, you didn’t leave your new baseball cap at the zoo, I have it right here,’ or ‘Of course your dad will come out for dinner with you, kiddo,’ and then the wi-fi failed, and he did.  “I just mean, um.”
“What,” Billy sighed.
“When I had the flu, did, uh, did you...make me sleep?” Steve asked, because he’d wondered about that one, waking up to his parent’s panicked faces in the hospital.  “Until I felt better?”
“You told me to,” Billy said, watching his face.  “You said.”
“...only if I asked,” Steve said, nodding slowly, and Billy nodded a couple times, faster.
“Only if you tell me to,” Billy nodded.  “Mr. Johnstone always means to bring you cookies anyway, I’m just reminding him, is all—”
“How come you don’t use it to do the laundry, and...things,” Steve asked, since Billy was answering, and Billy laughed.  
“I could,” he said, shrugging.  “You need to know how to do it too, though, right?  This way, we can do it together.”  
“...did my mom…” Steve began, remembering the long-ago commercial, and making a face as he imagined Billy ordered to pour something over his own head.  “...does my mom...have your...lamp?  Is that...is that why you have to listen to me?”  Billy opened his mouth, frowning, and Steve shook his head.  “I-I know you said it’s not a lamp, but—”
“...I don’t have to do what your mom says,” Billy told him, cocking his head.  
“...just me?” Steve asked, and Billy leaned back against the cupboards, crossing his arms.
“...yeeeah,” he said, warily, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief, nodding, and kicking his feet under his chair as he thought.
“Do…” he began, and trailed off, and Billy came over and sat down at the table, raising his eyebrows.  
“Spit it out, kiddo.”
“...my magical people encyclopedia,” Steve started, then paused, trying to figure out how to continue.  “...it, uh, it says to...it says not to..ask for things.”
“What did you want to ask for, Stevie?” Billy asked, with a long, contented sigh, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his chair.  He sat his feet on the chair next to Steve, grinning.
“No, no, I don’t—I don’t...want anything,” Steve said, and Billy sat his boots on the ground again.  
“What’s wrong, buddy,” he asked, sitting up to reach across, and squeeze Steve’s hands.  Billy’s hands were twice as big as Steve’s, and Steve always felt safe, when Billy held him, but he shut his eyes.  “It—it says if you ask for things, there’s always a...price.  It says—not money, but—it—it can go wrong, I might—forget someone, or they might...forget me, uh,” Steve paused, swallowing, as Billy’s hands on his went still.  “Somebody wished for their dead son back, and he came back but he wasn’t alive, or...or she wished for treasure, but then she got arrested for stealing it…”
Billy smiled, a little, but not like anything was funny.  “...oh,” he said, finally.
“It—the book said not to just...wish for things, if you didn’t know how you were...paying,” Steve mumbled.
“I’m not a monkey’s paw,” Billy growled, “—or a like, a fae lord, I’m not tricking you out of things you want, I’m not going to steal your memories, or your name, or anything—”
“Tommy doesn’t wanna be my friend anymore,” Steve said, his voice wobbling a little, because he hadn’t had a lot of people who really liked him, until Billy.
“Tommy’s a little shithead,” Billy muttered, but Steve talked over him.
“...if I have to...pay something to be friends with you,” Steve said, thinking about how his parents barely knew he was there, and whether they ever had, or whether he only remembered them that way, “—is—is that—”
“Shit, no,” Billy breathed, shoving away from the table and stomping over to lean against the sink again.  “I didn’t—fuck, there’s nothing I can say, is there, I could have done anything, you can’t believe me—”
Steve blinked wide eyes at the words Billy was using, glancing up the hallway in case his mom or dad came around the corner.  “Ssssh,” he whispered.  “Sshh, I believe you!  Don’t say the f-word, you’ll get in trouble!”
“Who cares, right,” Billy hissed.  “I can just make them forget it, right?!”  He looked really upset, Steve registered, kind of relieved, even though he’d known Billy was his friend, really.  Billy looked like he might cry, and Steve got up from the table, and went over to hug him around the waist.  
Even if Billy had taken his friendship with Tommy in trade for wishes, or something worse, Steve thought, it’d probably be worth it.  “...I didn’t mean…” he sighed.  “I know you wouldn’t...on purpose.”
“What’s that mean, on purpose,” Billy asked, disentangling himself from Steve’s hug, but just to pick him up.  Steve hugged him again, around the neck, and messed Billy’s hair up the way Billy always did Steve’s.  Billy laughed softly.
“...you’d make sure I wanted to pay for the wish.  You wouldn’t do anything that made me sad on purpose,” Steve said, sighing.  “I know you wouldn’t.”
“...sad, no,” Billy told him, squeezing him harder.  “Mad, maybe.  You aren’t paying for wishes, kiddo.  If you want Honey Grahams because I’m a shitty cook and I ruined lunch, I’m not going to steal your memories.”
“You wouldn’t take away somebody liking me,” Steve whispered, and Billy rocked him a little, sighing.
“Nope.”
“Mom and Dad never liked me, it wasn’t you,” Steve mumbled, and Billy froze.  “You didn’t take that.”
“Oh, jesus, kidlet,” he said softly.  “Of course they...do,” he said unconvincingly.
“They don’t,” Steve sighed.  “But you do.”
“Yeah,” Billy told him, swaying Steve a little, and rubbing his back.  “You’re my favorite.”
“Favorite what?” Steve asked, giggling, and Billy hrrrm’d.
“Favorite everything,” he whispered, lifting Steve way high up so he could put his hands on the ceiling, and swinging him around while Steve laughed.
Next Chapter!
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Ciarán (Kee-ran) McKinney. *Supporting character
Voice Claim: (Robert Sheehan) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ae5cqdRW5W8
Partner(s): None.  Parents: Raven McKinney and Mathghamhain McKinney Kids: None. Siblings: Aedan & Violet. Age: Immortal, but translates into mid 20′s. Birthday: 16th of October. Height: 181cm Body type: Skinny, but with some muscle tone.     Eye color: Light blue, almost gray, with a slight brown ring around the iris. Classification: (Immortal) Demon. Known powers: Possession, shape shifting, teleportation, paralysis Inducement, Hypnotic Vision (the power to hypnotize people via eye contact) Astral Projection (The power to separate one's spirit from one's body) Transmutation (The power to alter the forms/structure of beings/objects) Telepathy (The power to receive and/or transmit information mentally or through other non-sensory means. Users of this power are often called Telepaths or Mind Readers.)
About: ~ Charismatic, cheeky, adaptable, flirtatious, brave, playful, elegant, outgoing, curious, teasing, passionate, intelligent, flexible, sarcastic, humorous, social, optimistic, confident, imaginative, independent, sassy, spontaneous, neat, stubborn and a bit greedy at times ~ Very pale. ~ Sexuality Omnisexual (Attracted equally to all human beings (men, women, transexuals, etc.) … A person who can be sexually attracted to anyone and anything, from men/women/everything in … and also non-human animals and inanimate objects) ~ Has shoulder-ish long, black hair. ~ Ciarán is a traditionally male given name of Irish origin (Scottish Gaelic spelling). It means "little dark one" or "little dark-haired one". ~ Is Irish and speaks with an Irish accent although he grew up in Scotland. ~ Can Shapeshift to a Common Starling ~ Is very skilled at sword fighting and archery. ~ Very flirtatious ~ French cuisine enthusiast. ~ Will flirt with pretty much anything/anyone. ~ Doesn’t care much what people think of him, and usually just laugh/shrug it off. ~ Likes messing with people. ~ Smells like Rosemary, Bergamot or Myrtle. ~ Loves teasing just as much as flirting. ~ Cannot cook to save his life. ~ Hates mosquitoes! ~ 10/10 down to party at any time. ~ A bit of a cleaning freak - dances to loud music while cleaning. ~ Grew up without a father figure, and was very much ‘the family secret’. More details about that here <- ~ Didn’t meet his dad (Raven) till he was already an adult. ~ Can’t remember ever meeting his other dad (Mathghamhain) although he did several times as a kid. ~ Never missed a parental figure, since he simply grew up in a castle full of family members who all took well care of him, even if he was a secret within the family, and was never allowed to be known outside the castle walls. ~ Feels isolated if he spends too much time indoors - result of having spent most his upbringing inside or in the castle gardens. ~ Looks fancy, isn’t, but likes to pretend to mess with people. ~ Teleports all over the place. ~ Loves to mess with strangers.  ~ Rebel. ~ Lives with his sister, Violet. ~ Very good dancer. ~ Yes, he’s Irish, no he doesn’t like Whiskey! Stop asking! ~ Loves French cuisine, partying, kinky sex, rough nature, teasing people, fireflies, bonfires, fog, gloomy weather, rain, thunder, Irish and Scottish nature, being playful, flirting, being in his bird form, dancing, binging Netflix with his sister, cats, popcorn, the smell of condoms - although he never wears them, chocolate covered bananas, salty tomatoes, sugar coated oranges, bacon, smoked meat in general, mead, sweet plums, clubbing, getting drunk, exploring, meeting new people and singing although he can’t carry a tune. ~ Always wears black, wears a gold cross in his left ear, and almost always wears his hair in pigtails. ~ Often assumed to be a snob, really isn’t at all.
Ciaran’s tag Ciaran’s house/home Ciaran’s moodboard Handwriting/ask answer pic:
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One Gif to describe him:
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One song to describe him: Dua Lipa - Levitating Featuring DaBaby Personal play list: 1. Ava Max - My Head & My Heart 2. Bebe Rexha - Sacrifice 3. The Weeknd - Blinding Lights 4. Sub Urban - Cirque 5. Sia and David Guetta - Floating Through Space 6. Jason Derulo - Take You Dancing 7. Daft Punk - Veridis Quo 8. MEDUZA - Paradise ft. Dermot Kennedy 9. Sam Smith - Diamonds 10. Shawn Mendes - Wonder 11. David Guetta & Sia - Let's Love 12. Sean Paul - No Lie ft. Dua Lipa 13. MAGIC! - Rude 14. ATB, Topic, A7S - Your Love (9PM) 15. Bruno Mars - Finesse (Remix) (feat. Cardi B) 16. Black Eyed Peas, Nicky Jam, Tyga - VIDA LOCA 17. Imagine Dragons - Follow You 18. Black Eyed Peas, Shakira - GIRL LIKE ME 19. Billie Eilish, Khalid - lovely 20. Dua Lipa - Last Dance
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aliypop · 2 years
Text
Why’d You Only Call Me (Chapter 5)
Pairing: POC F OC X Frank Castle
Warning:  mentions of blood, language, anxiety, needles, trauma
Word count: 2,758
A/N: So this is taking place during the end of Defenders and the beginning of Punisher. POC F Oc x Frank Castle, Thank you to @herosneednotapply​  she helped with plotting of this amazing story!. If you like it let me know !
Summary:  After the events of The Defenders ridding of The Hand, Yonah finds herself on the battlefield of her own ghost and the ghost of the man she always came to love.
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"And where have you been..." Lieberman said, much like a worried wife would, "Out..." Frank glared at the hacker, "And out would be..." his fingers typing on the keys. David had, had enough of Franks sass since day one that he had been here, but the man kept his family safe while calling him a piece of shit and keeping low off the radars. "Outside somethin you don't know about." Frank growled, "That was a good one..." his eyes glued to the many screens. And files that Yonah gave him the night before, "Wanna tell me why for several minutes I've been stuck listening to someone possibly calling out to you as Raven?" he turned to face Frank, "Told you already that Bill's good company..." Frank shrugged, "Anything else new... or ya gonna question me..." ah yes, Frank Castle, the man who had the world against him and on his shoulders, with no one to help him with it, "Well, breached the system a bit, so definitely have to thank Yonah for that!" he smiled as Frank sighed, "Yeah you do..." he growled,
 "Look, you two should talk..." 
"We do talk..."
"Like talk talk..." 
"Talk about what, the fact that Frank Castle went out to meet someone..." Yonah sighed, walking in the bunker, "Holy shit, where'd you come from?" David jumped, hearing her voice, "It's a Wayne thing," she hung her suit jacket up, "How'd you find out..." Frank glanced at her, his eyes piercing at her like knives, "Went to visit Curtis, who told me that a guy named Billy Russo had asked if you were dead..." she shrugged, 
"And how'd you know I went out..." 
"Well, I called my sister, who told me. That Billy Russo, her boss, had a meeting with you." she grinned, 
"Pretty and smart." David winked, mostly trying not to get into the middle of those two. 
"Yeah, he did..."
"And..." 
"Declined the offer." 
"Oh, thank God." she smiled, "Cause if you signed contracts and stuff and what not..." she playfully glared, "I would have been worried." her fingers touching his hand, Frank sighed, "Wait, you visited Curtis?" Yonah got silent as she took a deep breath, "I did..." she laughed, " shit he was onto her, and she knew it, 
"Hmm..." he looked at her, seeing her eyes shifting from his gaze. sitting her down, he could tell she was a little tense, "Wanna tell me why princess..." his breath tingling her ears, 
"He's trying to recommend me a good therapist because I might have PTSD and symptoms of psychosis..." she looked up at him, "You're not giving me a message to spill my guts, are you..." she questioned as Frank winked her, 
"Nah." his hands working a knot, "You looked stressed..." 
"Cause I am... I keep having the same nightmare, where I couldn't save Matt, and Theodore's head is usually on the floor talking to me, and sometimes it's Carlo shooting me and-" 
"God damn, that's a lot to take in." he sighed. It made sense why she was snappy. Lately, she kept blaming herself for things that weren't her fault. "Yeah... I'm sorry if I'm dragging you into my problems..." she bit her lip, his hands finding another knot caused by how she's been laying on the cot. "Nothing I can't handle, sweetheart." he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Nothing a bottle of Jack can't fix either."  she winked, 
"You didn't..." 
"oh, I did..." she smirked, "I wanted to celebrate the fifth case I won." 
"Congratulations Yonah!" David shouted from the kitchen as Frank glared over at him, "Francis, be nice..." she pointed up at him much like a mother to a child. 
"You have him whipped..." David said, shocked, Frank's hands stopping mid massage, 
"I am not..." 
"Frankie..." Yonah pouted, "What's wrong..." he asked, as she chuckled, "Whipped." 
BZT
      BZT
BZT
"Oh, what now!" Yonah growled. It was a text from Madani, "Sorry gentlemen, the parties gonna have to wait another time..." she sighed, giving Frank a quick peck on the lips and taking her keys, "It's fine, we're heading to Fort Bryon tonight, so..."  Yonah fake clutched her heart, "Without me..." she sniffled dramatically at the two men laughing, 
"Go to work, babe." Frank winked, 
"Fine, but be careful..." she kissed his nose,
 "Do I get one of those..." David asked, half-jokingly as Yonah smiled, as she bopped his nose, "I'll leave the kisses to your wife." she winked, heels in hand, sneakers on her feet, "Alright, you two have a good boys night!" she grinned, 
"Oh, and David?" she turned to look back at him, 
"Yes..."
"If Frank starts to act up, just call me." 
"Or what..." Frank asked with a cheeky grin, her eyes looking him up and down, "I'll punish you." she winked, as David sighed, due to the lack of sex in his own life, "Lucky..." 
"Shut up..." 
Late afternoon traffic wasn't too bad aside from school buses and bikers. Everything else was smooth sailing to Dinah's office. As she walked in there outside her office sat Sam and "Agent Madani." Yonah's heels clicked towards her, "Good news..." she laughed, as Sam held up a small flask, "What is it?" Yonah asked as Dinah patted a spot on the ground, "Bugged too, "she laughed as Sam nodded, "not to be rude, but I'm here because..." 
"We might know who did it..." Sam smirked, as Dinah looked over at Yonah, "What about you..." Yonah looked back at Madani, partially gaining a crush on her, "I have a few lines of names to pick through." she shrugged, "But uh, let's get down to bug business?" Sam passed her the flask as she thought about it, 
"Still on the clock until..." she looked at her watch, "Ope pass it over, Sammy boy." 
"So you're telling me you know that Frank plans to ambush Bennett's..." Billy asked as Ezra sighed. The two at one of the CIA safe houses, "Well, not exactly me, I pulled a few strings, played my sister a little, and asked Allister to hack into a few camera feeds..." straightening out her skirt, "Genuis, you are a pure genius, have I told ya that lately kitten." he whispered in her air as she shivered, 
"Save that lust for Madani..." she chuckled, the two at the door waiting for Rawlins, the many things one could say about this man, but Ezra was going to keep quiet by sitting in his living room reading, the two had been in his office for what felt like hours, and yet she knew that at any moment Rawlins would come to her and ask her, 
"So why isn't Russo dead yet..." he whispered as Ezra glanced back at Billy." I figured you'd still need him, sir..." she glanced from the book, "After all, he does do your evil bidding." she snarled at him, "And he looks good doing it..."  turning another page, "Mhmm..." he grabbed her face, 
"I want him dead after this..."
"Then stop being a coward and kill him yourself..." she spat back, loosening herself from his grip. Nothing was surprising to her about Rawlins. He was just a man with power, that coward in fear over who would kill him when the time comes, 
"Hey, pretty boy..." Ezra smirked as Billy began suiting up for the attack, Anvil agents gearing up to leave, "Hmm?" he turned to look back at her, "Be careful out there..." she mentioned as he chuckled, "Sounds like you care for me darlin, " he winked as Ezra chuckled, "Aren't friends supposed to," she teased, "Oi that's cold Wayne." taking his helmet from her, 
"Yeah, I know Russo." she stuck her tongue out at him. 
Yonah growled, sitting on the rooftop patroling Hells Kitchen, it wasn't much to do, but it beat sitting in the bunker waiting for Frank and Lieberman to return, 
"Hey, Addie..." she sighed, a bit bloodied from a few fights, "Yonah, what are you doing..." she asked as looking at her super suit, "Taking care of the city..." Yonah smiled, back turned towards her still, "Mhmm... so did you get your apartment debugged or..." she asked as watching as Yonah tried to listen to the commotion of the city, "Stop trying to be Matt..." she sighed as Yonah grumbled, "I'm not trying to be Matt..." she lied, 
"I just want to continue what he did..."
"Oh, so  leave you while for an ex and the die, while being possibly pregnant..." she mumbled as Yonah looked at her, 
"You're..." 
"I don't know yet, but I might be ..." she saw Yonah's face, bruises on her cheek, "Fisk's old goons?" she asked as Yonah smiled, " The hounds of hell..." Addie's hand on her cheek, healing it, "Do you wanna keep it..." gesturing to her stomach, 
"Why should I..." 
"Cause then I could be a God aunt." she grinned, "And baby clothes and a family..." 
"And everything Matt's abandoning..." Addie sighed, "For all I know, it could be gas..." she shrugged, "But now you missy sound like you want that." Addie commented, hearing the tone in her voice, "Want what?" she chuckled as Addie glared at her, " A family... preferably with Rambo." she joked as Yonah sighed, 
"I haven't thought about it..." 
"So if you had a son, you'd name him-"
"Felix... and he'd have Frank's curls and his soft eyes and-"  she growled. Addie always had her way of pulling out the truth of people. "You haven't thought about it, huh?" Addie teased. Yonah did. She thought about it all the time. But never told Frank. She didn't want to burden him with that thought, considering what happened to his family, 
"I do, and I think about us having a little girl." she smiled, "She'd be so cute... " Addie grinned at her friend, who seemed to find something normal within her life, 
"Then tell him this..." 
"How..." 
"Hint about it." Addie winked, "Works like a charm."
Back in the bunker were Frank, Yonah, and Lieberman. Yonah stood next to the computers, icy hot pads on her back as she glanced at Frank, her attention back on David, "So how'd it go..." she asked as the two men grunted, "Frank got a bit pissed off..." he mumbled, as she sighed, 
"Why..."
The piece of shit had a sandwich..." 
"And you ate a Tuna packet, Frank," David smirked
"What if I wanted a sandwich..." 
"Oh my God!" Yonah laughed, "You two are acting like you're married." she chuckled as they got silent, "I meant, how was infiltrating the base..." she asked, her hands in her sweatpant pockets. 
" Oh... we found some information."
"And..." she smirked,
"Shot a few people..." 
"As usual." Yonah chuckled, "Sounds like you had a great night without me..." she sighed, the two shaking their heads at her, "So how was your night?" David asked, knowing that's what she wanted, "Got into a few fights," she began to pace, "Stopped by the gun range..." she shrugged, "Caught up with a friend." David nodded as Frank kept his attention on her. He knew what she was doing. She did it well, walking aloof and, sing songing her words, she was hinting something, 
"And what were you two talking about..."
"Oh, usual girls stuff..." Yonah grinned. She knew he was on to her,
 "Mhmm, and did this girl stuff have to do with me?"
"Well,"
"Yonah..."
"Yes." she bit her lip a little. David sighed. He knew it was que to go, or so he thought, "You can stay case things get ugly." she whispered, 
"Tell me what it was..."
"Frank...  don't want you to get upset or anything like that, but..." his eyebrow quirked up, "Can't be worse than the shit going on now." he shrugged, 
"Alright, well, lately I've been thinking thoughts, and they've been interesting thoughts and..."
"Damn it, just spit it out..." 
"I thought maybe one day we could have a family," she mumbled. Both David and Frank were quiet, "See, I knew I'd blew it with that idea... I should have just kept it to myself and-" 
Frank sighed. As much as he loved the idea, it was a little too soon, on both their behalf, "Sweetheart..." he watched as she walked off, 
"Anyone still up for some Jack..." she asked tears in her eyes. 
"Yonah..." David walked after her. Frank was getting in his head again about all that could go wrong and everything that did. Seeing her cry always made him feel like shit, but being the one to cause her to cry made her feel worse, "Hey, honey... look at me... What you said was sweet, it's just a stressful time for us all and-" he wiped her tears, "What if Frank doesn't want me anymore..." she whimpered, 
"Sweetie, he's Frank. Not many people romantically want Frank..." he laughed as she chuckled, "I see I still got my dad charms." he smiled, "You're a good friend David..." she hugged him tightly, Frank in vision as he mouthed, "Can we talk?"
Yonah nodded, "I smell blood is Frank behind me..."  David asked as he heard him grumble, David, staring him down, "Be gentle with her. She's feeling fragile," 
"What made you change your mind..." Frank asked, "Cause the night ya left..." he sighed, "You said you didn't want non of that." Yonah sat on the countertop, her feet dangling, "I know and... I was scared..." she looked down at her feet, "Scared of what..." he stepped closer, finger curled under her chin, to get her to look at him, "Me?" Yonah tsked at him, "No." brown eyes looking deep into his, "Then what..."  he sighed, "Tell me what is it, princess..."  he asked as she took a deep breath, 
"I was scared of commitment!" 
"But you up and ran off to marry some bastard..." he nearly spat, "You wouldn't understand..." she tried to push him away, "You and this I wouldn't understand, I can't understand shit if you don't make me understand shit." Frank was right, and she knew it, 
"Now explain it to me..." 
"I don't know how to..."  
"Just be honest with me, talk to me like you talk to, fuck, like Red, or Nelson," he shrugged, holding her hands, "Alright, when you first asked, I was scared to commit... because all my life I never saw what true love was..." she sighed, as Frank sat next to her, 
"Whys that..." 
"Well... my dad was the playboy billionaire, never slept with the same woman once, and I never had the greatest lovers..." she chuckled, "I was shit at love... " her head in his lap looking up at him, "You think you were shit at love, should've heard how I proposed to Maria." he joked as she chuckled, 
"How'd you propose."
"I looked at her and said, Maria, I refuse to let you raise our kid on your own, so I'll marry you." 
"It's not bad..." her eyes shifting to the side, 
"Bullshit Yonah..." he kissed the bridge of her nose, "Look, Frank. I didn't want to leave, but I did it anyways, and I know it broke you."  her soft palms on his face, "But I don't wanna go anywhere unless it's with you," she said as he leaned into her touch, "I don't wanna love anyone else unless it's you, and-" leaning over Frank kissed her soft lips, both of their noses in the way as they both smiled at each other,
 "I love ya too." he grinned. Yonah's eyes dilated much like a cat's. It had been the first time he'd said it verbally, even though he'd shown it many ways, 
"And if we make it out of this shit alive, then maybe we can start by a proposal first." 
"Would I be Mrs. Castle or Mrs. Castiglione ?"  she asked, "Whatever the hell you want as long as ya mine." he winked, "Now c'mon," he picked her, "You got work tomorrow..."  he winked, 
Yonah blushed, leaving out the shower as she caught eyes with David, "So I see you talked, talked,"  he grinned, Yonah clearing her throat, "Mhmm we uh did..." she rubbed the back of her neck, "Good, good, " he laughed handing her, her briefcase, 
"Uh, hey, if you see Madani tell her sorry for her loss..." 
"Wh-What do you mean..." she asked as David said, "Just do it... I uh gotta go." he winked,  checking at her phone there was a text from her sister, 
: Can we talk?
: Headed to my office now.
: Already there
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lesbianlovelanguage · 4 years
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YOUTUBER AU I’m such a fucking sucker for those. It can be anything you want really. Maybe they are friends doing a challenge or something and they end up kissing (or more ;)) or they could meet each other at like a creator even and take a pic together and everyone starts to ship them... :)
HI! Anon I am so sorry, life has been *general handwaving* a MESS. But, I’ve finally gotten most of my shit together and look! A fic! Finally!!! I hope you enjoy two ridiculous boys being ridiculous.
---
“You guys asked for it, and here it is. The explanation to Bendy and the Ink Machine! Now, I’ve watched a ton of playthroughs of this, especially The RatKing’s, as well as played through it myself, and I think I’ve got it.” 
Such a simple statement, it made it through both of the editors as well as Steve and Dustin themselves without raising any red flags. But as with everything, once it had been released on the internet it became fuel for fans to break apart and over analyze. 
The comments started pouring in, the standard mix of support and people trying to break apart his theory. But one comment in particular would stand out and begin something so much bigger than itself. 
Twenty minutes after Steve had pressed upload, someone with the username Random Hoe posted a comment saying Awe! A collab between you and Billy would be totes amazing!! While an innocent comment in itself, it began to pick up steam as people ranted and demanded for the two popular youtubers to interact more. It turned from video ideas to outright shipping within two hours, and only five hours after the video had been up, people began tagging Steve on Twitter with everything from edited screen grabs to fanart and video edits, all about Steve and Billy’s secret yet undying love for each other. 
Steve had almost quit Youtube as the fanbase for what had been dubbed “Stilly” steadily grew and became all the more ravenous. There were less and less comments and reactions to his theories, whether movie, video game, or even book related, and more and more comments about how he needed to do a collab with Billy ASAP, and how he’s queerbaiting, and how it’s okay to come out, it was 20Gayteen after all. He had tried to do damage control, but it only made things worse. 
And then someone showed Billy, and Steve not only wanted to quit Youtube, but also crawl under a rock. 
Billy’s only reaction to someone sending him a picture of Steve and Billy during a live stream was “Nice art, like the hair,” but Steve could have sworn his mouth twitched down in a grimace before Billy recovered his composure. 
But Dustin had convinced Steve to keep going, and with two months of no recognition or new content, the frenzy of Stilly shipping died down. It never disappeared, but no one sent anymore art to Billy and stopped tagging Steve in all of their posts. That had been in February. 
Vidcon was in June, and Stilly was the least of Steve’s worries. He’d been asked to host a panel on the new game show he and Dustin had begun hosting on Youtube TV about pop culture trivia, and then host a live episode with various Youtube guests as competitors. It promised to be relatively simple, a simple explanation of the origin and behind-the-scenes and a simple Q&A session followed by what he spent every Thursday doing for the past two months. And it was, him and Dustin breezing through the panel bouncing off of each other and the first round of Did You Know? You Don’t Say? flying by as the famed beauty guru aced almost every question. But once the second guest stepped on stage, Steve knew it was all going to go to shit. 
Because Billy Hargrove, The Rat King himself, swaggered out on the stage in flip flops and an Everlast crop top and flopped into the contestant’s chair with a smirk. Steve froze, mouth suddenly drier than a desert. 
Luckily, Dustin didn’t even stutter. “Ah! The next victim. Should we go easy on him?” He waggled his eyebrows as he asked the audience. The audience shouting brought Steve out of his daze, and with a shake of his head, he turned and spread his arms out wide. 
“Well then, let’s begin. So, Billy, Do you know what the rarest MnM color is?” 
The cocky smirk melted off of Billy’s face, replaced by one of thoughtful determination. He’s silent for only a moment before he looks up and says, “Brown, like your eyes, Pretty Boy.” Steve feels his pale skin flush with heat, but he coughs and tries to play it off.
“Quite the charmer there, Rat King. Luckily, your lines are actually true. One point! Let’s see it!” He calls out and then looks behind him to the television screen currently displaying the scoreboard. A large blocky 1 appears and the audience cheers. 
“Alrighty then,” Dustin says after the crowd dies down. “Next question. Billy, Do you know the original name of Istanbul?” Billy chuckles, and shakes his head.
“Easy. Constantinople.”
Dustin fake pouts and looks over to Billy. “None of that Rat King charm for me?” The audience laughs, and Billy chuckles before throwing a wink at Dustin.
“Not quite old enough to ride this ride, bud.” 
Dustin scoffs and shakes his head, making the curls bounce around wildly. “Whatever you say, old man. You did get it right by the way. Let me see another point!” Dustin mimics Steve and gestures towards the scoreboard which now shows a big, white 2. 
“Your turn, Pretty Boy. Give me something hard.”
“Alright. Let’s see.” Steve pretends to look over his notes before seeing the perfect question. “So, Billy, Do you know which two American states don’t observe daylight savings time?” Billy stares blankly at Steve. This was the final question in their lineup, but he had asked for a hard question. 
Luckily, Billy recovers quickly and clears his throat before giving another chuckle. “Damn, I know I said give me a hard one, but I wasn’t expecting that. I’m gonna go with Hawaii and Alaska?” Steve shakes his head and gives a small sigh. 
Dustin gives a little cheer, and then runs over to a table off to the side of the stage where they have a cue card that the contestant has to read off of if they lose. It was Dustin’s idea, the You don’t say? part of the title. It’s his favorite part of the show, because they get to see their contestants say some ridiculous things.
“Well, unfortunately, that was incorrect,” Steve announces over the booing audience. “And, following the rules, you now have to read whatever is on this card.” Dustin hands Billy the cue card with a wicked grin. 
Billy sighs and flips over the card. There’s a moment of silence as he reads over what the card says, and then he looks up at Steve and clears his throat.
“Would a Pretty Boy want to go out with me?” He says in a clear voice, gaze never leaving Steve’s. 
Suddenly too many things for Steve to process happen at once. He feels the heat return to his cheeks and his mouth dry out again, the audience goes wild, and a buzzer sounds, signaling that they were out of time for Did You Know? You Don’t Say? Dustin comes through and pushes a frozen Steve off-stage, where Billy is waiting in the wings. With the audience’s weighty gaze gone, the feeling returns to Steve all at once.
“What the hell man? What was that out there?” He hissed at Billy. The man simply shrugs and gives another one of his trademark smirks.
“Just giving the people what they want, Princess. Try to keep up.” And then he turns around, and walks away. Simple as that. Nothing to it. 
Steve wants to scream. Fortunately, he and Dustin have been friends for years, and he knows all of Steve’s tics by now. The stagehands shoo them from the wings, and he pulls Steve through one of the backdoors to outside the convention center. Somehow, he also procures a water bottle in the hustle, and hands it to Steve once they’re both sitting on the steps outside. Steve takes the water bottle gratefully and chugs half of it in one long gulp. He pulls it away and wipes at his face before sighing. He seems to deflate, like a balloon losing all of its helium at once, and Dustin puts an arm around him. It’s awkward because he’s shorter than Steve, but it’s still comforting nonetheless. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dustin asks quietly.
“I- I’m so stupid. For just a second I thought it was real, but why would it be? What would someone like him see in someone like me?” Dustin lets out a huff before pulling away and turning towards Steve.
“Steve, buddy, pal o’ mine. You’re an idiot. If anything, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a pompous ass for pulling a stunt like that. It’s bullshit.” 
“He could have anyone. Between his paycheck and his pecs, he’s one of Youtube’s hottest content creators.”
“Yeah, sure. But for the sake of alliteration, he also lacks personality. The guy’s a huge dick! And he proved it today. He knew that you wouldn’t shut him down and bitch him out on stage, so he thought it would be funny to pull that shit.”
“Yeah, he is kind of just a publicity-seeking asshole, you’re right,” Steve admits, feeling a little better, and a lot angrier. “You know what, Dusty-Poo? I’m gonna find him, and give him a piece of my mind.” He stands up, itching for a fight and knowing who to go find for one.
“Tha-that’s not exactly what I meant but sure! Go knock him down a peg.” Dustin stands up as well and follows Steve back onto the main showfloor. 
It takes about twenty minutes to find Billy amongst the crowd but Steve sees him, and locks in like a tiger stalking his prey. Or something cool like that. Thankfully, Steve doesn’t have to make a huge scene as he walks up to Billy and gets in his face. 
“You. Me. Conference Room 3. Now,” Steve says, poking a finger in the middle of Billy’s chest to emphasize his point. Billy chuckles, but still follows along as they walk into the empty conference room. Once they clear the doors and Steve hears them swing shut behind them, he turns to Billy.
“Explain. What the fuck was the point of that little,” he wavs his hand around, “stunt you pulled during the game show?” 
Billy raises an eyebrow. “Told you Pretty Boy. I gave the people what they wanted. 
“So that’s it? It was a publicity stunt?” 
“You tell me. You’re the one who started the whole thing,” Billy shoots back, still holding on to an air of nonchalance, but Steve can his patience waning.
“You- you mean the stuff from February? When I happened to mention you in one video? You think I meant for that shitstorm to start, for fun and publicity?” 
Billy only shrugs again.
“Okay. Nope. Again, I mentioned your channel one time, as a source. Gave credit where credit was due. I do it for all the channels I watch! I’ve mentioned Nancy’s channel like 8 times, and Jonathan’s too. Never had this shit started with them.”
“They’re married, Steve. Like super married. Of course it wouldn’t. We’re both single, queer youtubers. Of course shit’s gonna stop. Didn’t your agent or whoever look over your video?”
Steve huffs. “Oh yeah, let me just go hire an agent, cause I have such a need for someone to monitor my every move,” Steve snarked. Billy just looked at him like he had failed to add 2 and 3.
“You’re telling me you, part of one of the biggest channels on Youtube, don’t have an agent?” 
“We’re not one of the biggest channels, and we’ve never needed one! We’ve got our team of editors and assistants, no need for some agent.”
“Steve,” Billy says patiently, like he was explaining something to a child, “You have over 4 million subscribers. That’s a big channel.” 
“We’re still not one of the biggest channels, dipshit.”
“Oh, I'm the dipshit? I didn’t start a fucking fandom frenzy apparently by accident. Because I was smart and got a fucking agent.”
“You’re such an asshole.” 
“Whatever you say Princess.”
“Stop fucking calling me a princess!” Steve screams, voice booming in the silent conference room. “Why do you do that? Pretty Boy, Princess, Stevie? Just- just stop with the fucking nicknames. It’s not fair.” The second part of his outburst comes out as a whisper, sounding almost desperate. 
Billy was at a loss for words, but then again, he had always been more of a man of action. 
So he says nothing, only gives a seconds’ thought of what he was going to do, before lunging forward and doing it. 
Steve’s next words are muffled as Billy crashes their lips together with absolutely no finesse, teeth clacking. It probably constituted as the worst kiss Billy has ever had, but as he moves back, Steve grabs a fist full of blond locks and pulls him forward. Their 
second kiss is far better. By no means is it soft, but that was just par for the course with them wasn’t it? 
The kiss comes to a natural ending as they both pull back to breath, before Steve starts to giggle. 
“You really need to work on your pick-up lines, Rat King.”
A soft gasp from the doorway cuts off Billy’s retort, and they both turn to see a girl decked out in Youtube merch, including a jacket with the Upside Down Theories logo on it. She had dropped her backpack, and was open-mouthed gaping at the two. Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she frantically gathers up her backpack and shoots out of the conference room. 
“Chances that this blows up online by tomorrow?” Steve asks, turning to the blond next to him. 
“I’m betting in the next two hours, Pretty Boy,” Billy replies.
A wicked smirk creeps onto Steve’s lips as he shrugs and says, “Oops. What was that about getting an agent to help with this stuff?” 
---
Aside from this taking FOREVER, I hope you guys enjoy this! It was tons of fun to write.
tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @catharrington @trashycatarcade @myboyfriendsteve @thesummerof84 @lightsupinthenorth @smashmouth-hargrove (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)
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