#billi the Belligerent

[naomiknight-17]

I've had to hand feed Billi twice a day for like three days now and my hands and fingertips are so so sore and tired from using the feeding syringe

These veterinary devices were NOT designed with disabled pet owners in mind, holy shit

The vet is supposed to call today so we can figure out what to do moving forward, whether we continue hand-feeding but with diabetic formula wet food, or try the appetite stimulant again, or what

I've already had to set in my mind, "If her condition gets to X point, then we'll have to let her go" but she isn't there yet. The vets have said that, even if we figured out what was wrong (besides the diabetes and arthritis which we already know about) there isn't much we could do about it at this point.

So I guess I'm just making this post to let y'all know that Billi is now in what I would consider palliative care. We can't cure her, but we're doing all we can to keep her comfortable and happy. Well, as happy as a cat titled "the Belligerent" can be

#i don't want to discuss what that X point means. it's a very personal and difficult decision and i am trying to plan for what's best for her #anyway #cats #mod post #billi the cat #billi the Belligerent #sick animal #diabetic cat #pet death mention #sort of. like. we know it's coming. just not when

[stranger-rants]

When Billy is hospitalized, the nurses attending to Billy notice his heart races when Neil comes to visit. He gets tense. Short of breath. The monitors beep like crazy. Then Neil gets mad, talking about how Billy’s not getting any better and he’ll have him transferred to another facility if this keeps up. Neil gives them bad vibes, because he just talks about Billy like he’s property. What Billy wants or needs to get better doesn’t seem to matter to him. He just wants Billy out of the hospital as soon as possible, but Billy can’t speak up about why and the abuse hasn’t fully come to light yet and maybe Neil’s paranoia that Billy is slipping through his fingers is growing. Still, they coordinate planned disruptions during Neil’s visits. Sorry, Billy’s got physical therapy now. Sorry, Billy needs to take his meds and rest now. Sorry, we have to change his bandages now. Just anything to make Neil go away, and in doing so Billy calms down which tells them all they need to know.

#inspired by the time a bunch of nurses guarded my hospital room doorway #because a belligerent patient kept trying to come into other patients rooms #billy hargrove #disabled billy

[dark666posting]

Fed to You

Drunk!Reader x Dark!Billy Hargrove

(There's a bonus prize near the end.)

TW: NON CON!! NON CON!! MEAN BILLY!! CIGARETTE BURN!!!!********

It's a rager. A blowout, end-of-the-year party at some rich kid's place right outside of Hawkins. You arrive with friends, but they quickly leave your side on their pursuit of flesh. You, however, only really care about getting drunk. It's been a hell of a last semester and your professors are giving you a run for your money in the form of "highly suggested" extra credit assignments.

You wipe the thoughts of school from your mind and reach for a gleaming bottle of crystal-clear vodka. Is it your first choice? Maybe not, but it'll have to do. You pour yourself a shot and offer to fill a few extra tiny glasses for anyone around you who wants one. Several people join in and you all 'cheers' sloppily before downing the harsh liquid.

From across the room, you've caught someone's eye. The most beautiful man you've seen in a while, Billy Hargrove. You remember him from High School, though, that was years ago. It's nice to see he still participates seeing as you hadn't seen him at the last few parties you attended. Maybe tonight is special. You can feel his face on you, but you don't think much of it. You're gorgeous and the alcohol only amplifies your confidence. Let him stare.

The night progresses and your drunkenness does the same. Taking you from a healthy buzz straight into blackout territory. You know your limits, though. You know that if you stopped right now, it'd be minimal damage and you could start fresh the next day. That'd be the smart option.

"Leaving already?" A smooth voice halts your stumble toward the door. You turn and Billy's exposed chest under his unbuttoned shirt gazes back at you. "My eyes are up here." You snap your vision to his grinning face. He's so close. You take a step back, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and seems to effortlessly guide you to the kitchen where the counter is lined with half-empty bottles.

"Dude I gotta get home," you slur, trying to deny his offer.

"You can't drive like this, are you stupid?" He laughs, mocking you. It pisses you off, but you're too drunk to unpack it. He's right, you can't drive like this. "Here, let's keep the party going." Billy hands you another shot. The house is still bursting with life so you assume it's not that late and agree to shoot the fiery liquor. You shake your head as the shot leaves a lingering burn in your throat.

"Okay, okay," you laugh, belligerent. "I really need to find my friends, my- my friends." You stumble over your words, barely making sense. Billy just tilts his head and smiles at you, looking you up and down in your sexy little outfit.

"Don't be a pussy, finish this bottle with me," he demands, barely making an effort to be persuasive at all.

"I'm not a fuckin' pussy. You're a pussy." You snatch the bottle from his grip and turn it up. You're quite the show-off when you're drunk. You finish the last bit of liquor and sway where you stand, placing the bottle back on the counter with a little more force than necessary.

"Wow. You're pretty drunk, aren't you?" Billy asks, sarcastically. Your reply is nearly incoherent. "Let me take you home. I don't see your friends." Billy guides you towards the door and it doesn't really cross your mind that he doesn't know your friends and likely didn't see who you arrived with. He just wants you outside.

It's a foggy, late night. It just stopped raining and the roads nearby glisten with moisture under the dim street lamps. You're trying to focus your doubling vision when you accidentally misstep. You would've easily corrected yourself, but Billy takes this moment of imbalance as an opportunity and shoves you to the ground. Your head is spinning, you don't even realize you've been pushed.

You roll over onto your back, propped up by your elbows. There's no way you'll be able to stand back up on your own. You're looking up at Billy with hazy, unfocused eyes. He looks around as if to make sure the two of you are alone and shielded from prying eyes. He places his lit cigarette between his lips and hastily sheds his leather jacket. As he kneels over you, all you can see in the faint moonlight is his toned chest and the necklace hanging across it.

"Hey, what are you-" you begin to question nervously as Billy straddles you, but he cuts you off with a rough kiss. Confused, weak, and intoxicated, you try to push him away, but he's a lot stronger and a lot more sober than you are.

"Shhh, just shut up," he whispers, swiftly freeing his erection and stroking himself as he hovers over you.

"Billy!" You scold, trying to wiggle free. You're pinned down with your arms by your sides, held in place by his knees. He climbs further up your body, closer to your face. Once his knees pass your shoulders, you attempt to duck out from under him and hopefully run, but he's far ahead of you. He wraps a fist tightly in your hair and forces your mouth around his shaft.

"Come on, be a good girl," he mumbles past his cigarette as he aggressively turns your head back and forth to work his cock down your throat. You're hitting and clawing at him the best you can, but you're dreadfully uncoordinated and frankly, passing out. He fucks your mouth until you black out from the alcohol. Soft moans erupt from his chest as your lips and tongue slide wetly over his throbbing cock.

He finally withdraws from your mouth and glances around again. Still clear. He flicks his cigarette butt and starts to undress you. Your slutty outfit isn't much of an obstacle for him. Billy lifts your tiny, leather skirt and aggressively tears a large hole in your fishnet tights. He pumps his shaft as he ogles your barely-there thong just ever so slightly censoring your awaiting pussy.

Billy hooks a finger around your thong and slides it to the side. He wastes no time plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling them at just the right moment. Your unconscious body can't help but react. You arch your back and even release a sultry moan as he builds up your arousal. The more you react, the more Billy laughs at you.

You're blacked out and taking anything he wants to put inside you. You're disgusting. He smirks as you approach your orgasm only to remove his fingers at the last moment. Your quick breathing begins to slow as arousal pools between your legs, aching for completion.

"Don't worry, doll. I'm right here," he chuckles into your ear as he slides his massive erection into your edged hole. The pain and pleasure of being stretched out by his thick cock is enough to send your fleeting climax over the edge. The pain shakes you from your slumber and your eyes shoot open, widening in shock and fear.

"Help me! Some-" Your screams are cut short by Billy's hand slapping over your mouth.

"You really are fucking stupid, aren't you?" He growls, his face is blank and his jaw is rigid with building rage. He begins to thrust into you harder as punishment. The pain overtakes the pleasure and you sob into his hand. Tears stream down your face, dragging your makeup with it. You try to fight, but he pins your wrists down with ease. It's a game to him.

Eventually, you pass out again, leaving Billy to finish his task. He hunches over you, fucking you senseless, alternating between breathy moans and laughing at you. Your clothes are soaked from the wet grass, the more he thrusts, the more your hair becomes tangled with dead leaves and small sticks. He reaches up your intentionally tattered shirt and roughly gropes at your breasts.

The power, the domination he has over you could get him off time and time again, but it's always been funner just to fill you up and leave you too embarrassed to admit you can't remember who you fucked. He carelessly retrieves a cigarette from his pack and lights it, still fucking you, hands-free. The entire stoge is smoked to the filter and all the while he's slamming into you, intentionally abusing your vulnerability as much as possible. Billy's thrusts begin to waver and he picks up his speed for just a moment before one final slam into your pelvis. His cock twitches inside you as he fills you to the brim. He takes his finished cigarette and torturously stamps it out into your thigh as his warmth spills out into your swollen pussy.

"Jesus Christ," Billy breathes heavily as he stands, fastening his belt and pulling his jacket back on. He stands over you, looking down at your filthy, sloppy drunk form sprawled wide open on the ground. "What'd you say your name was again?" He asks with a laugh, with no intention of getting an answer. He knows you never told him.

"Dude... What the fuck?" A surprised voice calls from the darkened side of the street. Billy looks over his shoulder, following the sound. He's pissed off and ready to beat anyone to a pulp if they try to out him.

"Who's there?" Billy asks, calmly at first. A man emerges from the shadows, it's Eddie. He looks shocked and... Curious. Billy rolls his eyes. Eddie steps closer, eyes glued to the exposed, abused woman on the ground in front of Billy. Billy readjusts his jacket and turns to face Eddie.

"What did you do, man?" Eddie's eyebrows furrow, but his lack of anger tells Billy all he needs to know.

"She's all yours if you keep your mouth shut, freak." And that's all Billy says before climbing in his Camaro and speeding off.

Eddie hesitantly steps closer to you. You're disheveled and out cold. One of your breasts is exposed and your panties are soaked with anything from rainwater to cum. He fumbles for a moment with his belt and finally unsheathes a throbbing erection. Like he hasn't fucked since high school. He's quick to plunge it deep inside you, exhaling shaky breaths of disbelief as it slowly settles in that he's taking an unconscious woman against her will.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Eddie moans, slamming harder and harder into you. You waver on the cusp of awake and out cold, only ever coming back to release a sob or slutty moans. Eddie's mind is blown. "You like it? You fucking love it, don't you?" He whispers mouth pressed to your ear in lust.

"Please... Stop..." You barely whimper.

"Shhh," Eddie places a hand over your mouth, quickening his pace and finally finishing inside you as well. He wanted to last longer, but it just wasn't an option when he felt your pussy flex around him. He quickly fastens his jeans and belt and takes off without another word.

You're left there. Two different men's cum dripping out of your pussy and you likely won't remember either one.

The next day, you're found by a group of students from your college. You're humiliated and the news travels fast. You wish you could be more upset about the rumors, but truthfully, you just keep attending more and more parties, hoping the same two men will find you again.

#tw: noncon #non con #dark!fanfiction #dark!fic #dark!stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove non con #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #dark!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove smut #billy hargove x reader

[kurtie4life96]

when the party's over.

E.M. x F Reader drabble

Summary: That night in the Upside Down changed everything between you and Eddie.

CW: MDNI 18+, extreme angst, (soft) smut, mentions of drinking, smoking, arguing, injuries, dialogue taken from season 4

Loosely based on the song by Billie Eilish.

"Oh my god, Eddie!"

"Pretty bad, huh?" He sputtered, his hair matted with blood and dirt as you held the back of his head.

"No, no you're fine, we just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?" Your voice cracked as panic gripped every muscle in your body.

"Okay."

You tried to lift him up, tried to get his bloodied body off the cold ground, but he'd grunted in pain, dead weight, too heavy to carry, so you tore your shirt, frantically trying to stop the bleeding from his neck, but it was no use.

There was a moment of silence between you two, the only noise in the background from demobats and other unholy creatures in their habitat of the Upside Down.

An ominous, dreadful feeling settled itself in your stomach as you looked at his brutalized body in horror- pieces of him bitten off all over his legs, arms, sides, and neck as he lied in a pool of his own blood, motionless.

Reality only settled in more when his glossed over eyes turned to look at you, and he smiled- a type of smile that without words, told you he wasn't going to make it.

"I think it's my year now," Eddie's voice shook as he choked out more blood, a smile still on his face, "I think it's finally my year."

"Eddie, no, please..." you quietly sobbed, pleading with him, holding him as close as you could without hurting him further, hot tears rolling down your cold cheeks.

"I love you." He confessed, his body beginning to shudder uncontrollably beneath yours.

"I love you too, Eddie," you assured your dearest friend through sobs, "I'll always love you."

It'd been 5 months since Eddie Munson died in your arms.

It'd also been 5 months since Eleven found the two of you, and restarted his heart, saving his life.

Eddie had healed from his injuries, went on to graduate, and, of course, flipped Principal Higgins off.

He'd also told you, over time, that he meant what he said when he'd told you he loved you.

You told him you meant it too. Yet, you also told him that you couldn't be together.

It was too risky, too dangerous to start something romantic with a friend, when there was a possibility you could lose him again, or he could lose you. The fight with Vecna wasn't over.

The two of you had argued about it numerous times, and as much as you wanted to be with him, be something more than friends, you were just too damn scared.

Eddie eventually said he understood, after months of trying to convince you otherwise, because you wouldn't let up. But this also caused a rift between you two.

Anytime you were around each other, there would be this strong tension in the air, this push and pull, and by refusing to do anything about it, you'd eventually distanced yourselves from each other.

You thought that you would go numb, that your feelings for Eddie would eventually subside, but it was sure taking an awfully long time.

And you missed him more than anything. But his presence was too overwhelming for you. The event that took place was too traumatic for you to even converse with him.

Trauma is just funny like that.

And now here you were, 5 months later, at someone's house party that you didn't even know the name of.

Music boomed throughout the fairly large house, a giant crowd of belligerent teenagers and young adults scattered throughout it.

Everyone was dancing obnoxiously, shouting, doing shots and shotgunning beers. Well, everyone except for you and Robin.

The two of you stood in the corner of the living room people watching, sipping on a red solo cup of a mixed drink like the usual wallflowers you were, snickering and making fun of everyone.

You were dressed similarly- tank top, flannel, and high waisted shorts, a perfect outfit for a warm August evening.

"Check out Tammy Thompson's moves," you giggled, leaning against Robin's shoulder.

"Oh my god."

She put a hand up to her face and hung her head low with secondhand embarassment, before the two of you bursted into laughter, stomachs hurting and pushing each other back and forth, before Robin's laughter stopped abruptly.

"What, what happened?" You chuckled, still smiling at her.

"Look," she whispered, a sense of urgency in her voice.

You glanced over to where she stared, to find Eddie Munson on the other side of the room, gazing at you with soft eyes, a kind grin on his face, seemingly amused with your good mood.

Your smile slowly faded and your heart dropped, going silent, and his did too, his gaze hardening before he looked away quickly, averting his eyes back to the group of teenagers he'd previously been speaking with.

"Shit," you murmured under your breath, staring into your cup and fiddling with the straw.

"I wish you guys would just talk, or fuck, or something," Robin emphasized, taking a sip of her drink.

"Yeah, right," you scoffed playfully, raising your eyebrows, refusing to look back up at him, "shoulda known he'd be at a party, selling weed or whatever it is he's doing now."

"Go talk to him," she suggested, shoving her shoulder against yours, "this is stupid. You love each other."

"I can't, Robin, I just can't," you reasoned with her, though your heart ached, "everytime I see him, I just... see him die all over again... plus, I've been drinking, probably not a good idea."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. You've had one drink. Neither of you are leaving Hawkins anytime soon. You can either stare at each other like creeps forever, or you can just clear the air."

She motioned her head for you to look at him, and you sighed, slowly averting your eyes back to Eddie to find him observing you once again.

His throat bobbed, studying your body language cautiously as you continued to stare back, taking note of his furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, and long dark curls.

Damn it.

"Fine," you groaned, keeping eye contact with him, "but it's not gonna change anything."

You began to trek through the sea of the intoxicated crowd towards the backyard, knowing well that Eddie would get the hint and follow after you.

"Yay!" Robin exclaimed, "Love you! Be good! Hey, Tammy!"

You opened the sliding glass door and walked outside, not bothering to close it behind you as you knew Eddie would be out momentarily.

You stood on the back deck, arms crossed as you peered off into the night sky. Your stomach was doing backflips in anticipation- no- nervousness as you awaited his presence, counting the seconds as they went by.

11 seconds and you heard a couple of heavy footsteps behind you, the door gently slide shut, and a couple more steps walking towards you.

With a sharp inhale and exhale, you turned around, arms still crossed and took in the heartbreaking sight before you.

Eddie Munson.

He stared at you, hands in his pockets, a melancholy, yet empathetic look in his eyes, and you looked down to your feet, shuffling them back and forth, unsure of what to say.

Another moment passed before he asked, "Cigarette?"

Another moment passed before you answered in a flat voice, "Sure."

He handed you one, putting another between his lips, lighting the tip of his before using the same flame to light yours as you leaned forward into it, taking a long drag and giving him a small nod of appreciation.

"So," he exhaled, "what're we doing out here?"

"Robin." You blew out smoke, flicking your cigarette constantly in an anxious manner.

Eddie nodded, "Figures."

"Mhm," You nodded back, focusing on anything but him, until you felt that same tension, that same push and pull feeling crawling back towards you.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing," he flicked his cigarette, his lips curling into a smile, "just that I figured you wouldn't talk to me unless someone told you to."

You frowned, looking to your feet again and your chest tightened, "That's not true."

"Yeah, it is," he chuckled sarcastically, "I mean, you avoid me at all fucking costs-"

"Stop it," you demanded, now scowling at him, "you act like I hate you-"

"No, it's fine," he interrupted, a shit eating grin on his face as he leaned back nonchalantly, "everyone hates me. I hate me, too. It's alright."

"Eddie," you looked at him with disbelief, "that is absolutely not true, I-"

"You what?" He took a step forward to you now, peering down at you, "you, what? Love me?"

You stared into him, faces now inches apart, feeling provoked, "You know I do."

"Yeah, right," he laughed, throwing his arms up in the air, voice getting louder, "that's why you just love to be around me, you know it's not my fault what happened-"

"Eddie," you warned quietly, "let me speak."

"Oh, so now, now all the sudden you've got so much to say? Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus christ, pick a way to be-"

"Let. Me. Talk!" You raised your voice, instantly feeling bad for it, but stood your ground anyway.

He let out a small laugh of disbelief, staring into your eyes, before he leaned back again, taking another puff of his cigarette, motioning for you to continue.

"Let me talk, please, okay?" You sighed.

He nodded impatiently, only making you angrier.

"Eddie, I love you. And I'm so fucking scared to lose you," tears prodded at your eyes now, "I know what happened wasn't your fault. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's my fault. And I feel it, and I relive the experience everytime I look at you. I've learned what it's like to lose you, and I am fucking terrified that I will again. I could lie, I could say I like it like this-"

You choked back a sob, earning a concerned look from Eddie's face, "Wait, hold on, it's not your fault either, don't say that-"

"Stop interrupting me!" You cried, tears rolling hot over your cheeks now, "I can't be with you the way you want me to, the way I want to, because I don't want to be in love with you, plan some kind of future with you, only to lose you again, or for you to lose me. So please, stop doing this to me!"

"I love you!" He shouted as he lunged towards you, his face turning red, curled up in pain as he attempted to hold yours, "I love you so much that it fucking hurts, and I can't do this, I'll never be able to look at you, and not love you-"

You took a step back, swatting Eddie's hands away, "Please, let me let you go. I can't do this. I can't keep telling you the same thing- I'm fuckin outta here-"

You shoved your way past him, opening the back door and storming aimlessly through the crowd.

"Hey!" Robin yelled at you, "where are you going?"

"I've got a ride," you lied, not bothering to make eye contact as you head out the front door, starting your journey home on foot.

You sobbed as you walked down the streets, not even knowing if you were headed the right direction, mascara staining your face as you stumbled and stopped every few steps to catch your breath, the emotional pain becoming physical as you leaned over to gasp, an even deeper sob from the last leaving your chest each time.

"Nothing's better sometimes," you tried to reassure yourself that you were doing the right thing as you trekked down the dark streets of Hawkins.

Normally you would feel scared, worried that you were walking home alone in the middle of the night, knowing what monstrosities could be around you and even underneath you, but not this time. This time, that was the last thing on your mind. And the first thing on your mind was Eddie.

Eddie. Oh, how you loved that boy so god damn much, it ached every bone in your body. All you wanted to do was be with him, more than anything, but it was just too risky. Too risky to be with him, only for him to lose you, or for you to lose him again.

You wondered if you even were making the right decision, that if that stupid saying, 'it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all' was really true. But it was surely too late now. That argument, that fight felt like the last one. The one you couldn't come back from.

You'd only walked about 10 minutes before you heard a vehicle slowly pull up next to you, making you stop in your tracks.

You tried to compose yourself, catch your breath, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest before you turned towards it, knowing damn well what and who it was.

You slowly looked over to see Eddie, sitting in his van, his engine running and his window rolled down.

Time slowed down for you now, the world outside, the night pausing, coming to a halt around you while you stared at him, your makeup now a sorry mess on your face, as he said the simple words you didn't even know you so desperately needed, his voice stern, but his face soft and kind.

"Get in."

Your crying stopped, and you continued to gaze at him for a moment, trying to grasp the situation in front of you, before you easily agreed, not saying a word to him as you walked to the passenger side door, opened it, got in and sat down, putting your seat belt on as you hiccuped.

"Cigarette?" Eddie asked you, not looking at you, his eyes only on the road, though he hadn't started driving yet.

You nodded, your hands on your lap, only keeping your gaze directly on the lit up gravel in front of you.

Eddie put a cigarette between his lips, lighting it and then passing it to you before he lit his own, shifting his van into gear and speeding off.

Neither of you spoke as he drove through the red lights of Hawkins in a rush to get home, the radio not even turned on as you sat in blissful silence, a mutual, comforting understanding between the two of you that no more words needed to be spoken, it just simply wasn't necessary.

You had long finished your cigarette by the time he turned into the trailer park, shutting off his headlights as he pulled in front of his home, parking his van and turning it off, pulling the keys out as you clicked off your seat belt, and the two of you sat in silence a moment longer.

Eddie glanced at you for a beat, his gaze unfocused and dark before opening his door and getting out, walking over to the passenger side and opening it for you, reaching a helping hand towards you to help you get out.

You followed him up the steps of his trailer as he fumbled with his keys, then unlocking the front door and stepping inside, grabbing your arm and yanking you inside the dark of his home before you could walk in yourself, slamming the door.

Everything happened fast, as you expected.

Eddie pushed you against the front door as quickly as you pulled him into you, his soft lips finding yours easily, kissing you as hard as he could, his hands cradling the side of your face as you raked your hands through his hair and pulled him into you, humming with relief into each other's mouths.

The kiss broke, only for the both of you to sigh a blissed out swear as you surged forward again, each rough kiss feeling like a 'what if', 'why not', 'fuck it', 'this should have happened sooner'.

His hands snaked up your waist, shirt lifted, calloused hands wide and hot across your ribs. You pushed up into him more when Eddie slipped his tongue along your bottom lip, deepening the kiss, softly moaning into it as you licked into each other's mouths feverishly, desperately, and there was an ache in your heart that felt like he still wasn't close enough.

You tugged on his hair, earning a groan from him, your name leaving his lips with a drawn out whisper.

The action made your body relax into his and your knees fell apart for him, inviting him to put his leg between them, the friction of his pants against your clothed heat making you gasp softly as Eddie slid off his infamous jacket in a hurry, hastily pressing his lips against yours again as he pulled off your flannel, needy hands now smoothing up and down bare arms.

His hands roamed down to your ass as you embraced desperately, lifting you up and pressing you against the wall harder, making you yelp, as he kissed down your neck, sucking a light bruise there, another one on your collarbone when you let out the prettiest sigh he'd ever heard.

Eddie needed more, his voice rasping swears as he carried you to his bedroom, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, kissing against his neck, and he pressed you into the messy sheets of his bed, his lips still soft and probing, sighing in solace as if to say, 'finally'.

But then he pulled back, sitting before you, his lips swollen from yours as he gazed at you, and you reached your arms out to him, a sudden stinging of tears in your eyes, quietly whining for more.

"It's okay, I got you babe, don't worry," Eddie reassured you softly, peeling his shirt off of himself, then pulling you up by your arms to pull your tank top off and unhook your bra in a hurry, throwing the garments to the side and he leaned into you again, kissing the tears off of your face before they could come running down.

He sucked on your bottom lip hungrily, and you whined, reaching between you to grab at his belt, a pretty whimper leaving your lips as you tugged at it wantonly, making him hiss.

You were begging, pleading with him, 'more, please, more,' in a small voice that drove Eddie absolutely mad, his hard length straining against his torn jeans, all for you.

He cursed to himself in a hushed voice, biting his lip and sighing heavily, and he gave in, taking his belt off and tugging his pants down his legs frantically, leaning back with a sigh of relief as his rather large length was free.

"C'mere," you insisted, reaching for him, wanting to touch him, wanting to smooth your hands along the scars in his sides that you never got a chance to care for, but Eddie shushed you, placing a kiss to the side of your knee to comfort you as he saw you were overwhelmed.

"Just want you," his voice low and husky as he fumbled with the button of your shorts before he paused, his eyes heavy and half lidded, "that okay?"

"Please. Want you too," you whined, arching your lower abdomen into his hand, motioning for him to hurry.

Eddie unbuttoned them in a frenzy, pulling your zipper down and sliding your shorts and panties down your legs, tossing them aside.

He had to lean back and take a moment, his eyes hungry and dark, his lips slightly agape as he took in the full sight of you, and cursed to himself at how pretty you looked.

He gazed at you and then your heat, groaning and praising you for how wet you were when he slid two fingers along your folds, his thumb grazing over your clit, trying to contain himself from absolutely ruining you.

You keened at his touch, grinding into his hand and he bit his lip at your reaction, spreading your knees farther apart for more access as he dipped a finger inside of you easily.

You gasped at the action, and Eddie quickly dipped in a second finger, curling and thrusting them in and out of you languid, gazing in wonder, getting impossibly harder by the second.

"Eddie," you rasped, "I need you. I love you."

He pulled his fingers out and crowded into you then, his hand sprawled messy but gentle along your throat and jaw, kissing and licking into your mouth deeply, moaning into each other as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You brought your knees up to your sides, caging him in, and he pressed a hand into the pillow next to you, hovering over you as you rested a hand against his scarred chest as he pushed into you.

You both let out a gasp of each other's names and expletives as your slick made it easy for him to push all the way into you, bottoming out, and Eddie gave you a moment to get used to the feeling, the pad of his thumb gently stroking your cheek, and curled his hand under your knee, lifting it up over his shoulder before he pulled out slowly, and pushed into you again.

He set a slow but sensual, deep pace and as much as you wanted more, it felt amazing, the both of you panting softly, cheeks flushed and skin slick with sweat, clutching the sheets of his bedding as he pushed in and out you, his lips kissing lazily against your own as you pushed against his thrusts, hitting the spot you so desperately needed.

Eddie picked up the pace, and with the stuttering of his hips, you knew that he was already getting close, understandably so, as you were too, a result from the want- the need from each other you needed for so long, and you couldn't wait anymore, not when he stretched out your walls so perfectly, when he felt so deep, so amazing.

When your walls squeezed against him, his hips snapped and Eddie cursed, his jaw slack as the both of you moaned in ecstacy.

"Jesus christ," his voice was hoarse between thrusts, "you can't do that, I'm not gonna last long."

"Me neither," you mumbled as he continued to massage your inner walls, the curls of his hair tickling your face.

You nearly cried out when he gripped your hip tightly, sure to leave a bruise, and he couldn't help himself anymore, not when you looked so pretty, not when you felt so good.

Eddie bit back a moan, sinking his teeth into your knee as he spilled himself inside you, his hips stuttering as you followed closely behind, your walls gripping him and pulsing as your orgasm took ahold of you, your lower tummy blooming deliciously as he rocked into you through each other's highs.

His hips finally stilled, and his body went limp into yours, the both of you panting against each other, his head in the crook of your neck, pressing sloppy, loving kisses along the side of your face, smoothing stray hair strands away from your forehead.

He pulled out of you and you whimpered, but Eddie was quick to catch your lips, swallowing the sound and he kissed you passionately, before tumbling next to you, pulling your slick body into his, limbs entangled, trying to get impossibly close.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, eyes closed, "and you're never gonna lose me. Okay?"

Tears prodded your eyes, and you nodded eagerly, smoothing your hands up and down his scarred sides, not knowing if it was true, but you smiled anyways.

"I love you too."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #smutty smut smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #eddie the banished #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie the brave #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #friends to lovers #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagines #stranger things hc #stranger things smut #fluff #angst

[raven-cl]

My final piece for @bigbangharringrove !! I had the lovely honor of working with @demogorgeously on her fic "Text to Heart" so be sure to check it out !!

Summary: When Steve received a slew of belligerent texts from one of his students' guardians, the best course of action would have been blocking them, Certainly, it wouldn't have been rewarding them by talking their little sister out of her impending expulsion.

And it wouldn't have been continuing to answer texts from the guy, either. But Steve wasn't known for his sharp decision skills, and he was kind of desperate for a friend who didn't make out with her girlfriend every time he came around. So maybe he could give this text-buddy thing a shot.

Unfortunately Billy was not just potential friend material. He was devastatingly hot, too. It was really, really inconvenient.

Go read the fic here !!

#this was such a fun fic to read and draw for #be sure to go give it a read !! :3 #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #harringrove #stranger things #my art

[blacksails-rarepairs]

black sails rarepair week 2024: the week in review

a brief overview of the fics and art posted for rarepair week! there's a delightful array of work here--modern AUs and canonverse, comfort reads and belligerent sexual tension, repression and introspection, gen and queerplatonic and romantic and unrequited affections.

the event is now closed, but the fics & art posted as part of it can be read and appreciated at any time! comments, kudos, reblogs, etc. are highly encouraged!

huge thanks & all my gratitude to everyone who participated--it has been my honor to serve as your host <3

now: the rarepairs!

an introduction by Benja

rated T. Flint & Gates.

fascinating portrayal of Flint's early days as Flint in Nassau, from Gates's POV, with super sharp dialogue

The creation of Captain Flint, from Gates' perspective.

this is what you do at parties (right?) by sunset_waltz (@thenobleprincess)

rated T. Abigail Ashe/Idelle.

new college student Abigail meets-extremely-cute with local bartender Idelle. (nb: sunset_waltz's fics listed here are all set in the same modern & very queer/trans AU!)

Abigail is new in town, and Idelle is too pretty.

let me get this straight by ElectricKettle

rated M. Flint/Gates.

i'm nominating this fic for most apt use of the ao3 tag "Belligerent Sexual Tension" SERIOUSLY oooooough

Hal Gates is a man of moderation. He is not prone to impulse or hotheadedness. So why is it that this all goes out the window when it comes to a man named Flint?

i think it's magic (and i hope you'll agree) by sunset_waltz (@thenobleprincess)

rated T. Miranda Barlow/Madi.

meet!! cute!!! SO much chemistry

Miranda is Abigail's mom. Madi is her teacher.

a love lost or false by @van1lla-v1lla1n

rated T. Billy Bones/Charles Vane.

Jack Rackham reminiscing on the golden days and spinning tall tales about the love life of his buddy Charles Vane (rip).

I met Jack Rackham at a tavern once, long after the golden age of our kind, and he spun me a tale of a love lost or false, I knew not which, and I know not still to this day.

unspoken words (are preferred) by sunset_waltz (@thenobleprincess)

rated M. Bonny/Rackham/Vane but super multiship!

another installment in the author's rarepair-centric modern au, with so many fascinating poly character dynamics

Charles fucks up, and apologizing is hard.

post-XXVII by @kairennart

Flint/Vane art!!!!!! SUCH beautiful colors, amazing lovely expressions, have i mentioned that i'm in love with Flint's freckles BECAUSE. just go look at it <333

by the way (i forgive you) by sunset_waltz (@thenobleprincess)

rated M. Flint/Madi, Flint/Madi/Silver.

(modern au) Silver disappears, and Flint and Madi find each other as they grieve in his absence. & as if that weren't an amazing enough premise: BONUS OT3 AT THE END

After John Silver vanishes, Madi and Flint are left to their own devices--until he comes back.

under the stars and the sky by Veridissima (@thestagthatlovedthewolf)

rated T. Miranda Barlow & John Silver.

a very quiet and comforting middle-of-the-night Miranda-Silver interaction, with background Miranda/Flint/Hamilton/Madi/Silver. super compelling miranda-silver queerplatonic relationship

Miranda hears Silver walking past her bedroom door, and she can't help but follow him outside.

the unnoticed bulge by BilliesBud

rated M. Billy Bones/Charles Vane.

my wife's first fanfiction :''''''') a very tongue-in-cheek portrayal of a deeply repressed Charles Vane confused about why he's thirsting after Billy Bones

Billy living rent-free in Charles' head.

five times Howell was too blind to see what is right in front of him + the one time he wasn't by tahiri_veila (@twopointsinspace)

rated E. De Groot/Dr. Howell + unrequited Howell/Flint.

absolutely masterful portrayal of Howell's unrequited affection for Flint shifting to a requited friends-to-lovers situation with De Groot. (with bonus background silverflint)

"Welcome aboard." De Groot lowers his voice to a near-whisper. "Don't mind the captain's disgruntled mood. He may be a capricious bastard, but he's damn good at his job. The best, I'd say. You get used to his ways."

pourparler by @van1lla-v1lla1n

rated T. Max/Marion Guthrie.

i'll be honest this was mainly me thirsting after Harriet Walter. but don't you want to know what all those meetings between Max and Marion Guthrie were like! this is that.

Max meets with Marion Guthrie for initial negotiations.

joy, and music, and peace by Benja

unrated. Eme/Madi.

ough be still my heart this one is SO sleepy-sweet--literally sleepy like Madi and Eme have a cozy little rest together, a lovely moment of safety and security.

A moment of rest.

#bsrpw24 #black sails #black sails fanfic #long post

[bigbangharringrove]

Text to Heart

Author: @demogorgeously (Ao3: demogorgeously) Artist: @ravencl (Ao3: Raven_CL) Beta Reader: @camaro-and-smokes (Ao3: Finney13)

Summary: When Steve received a slew of belligerent texts from one of his students' guardians, the best course of action would have been blocking them. Certainly, it wouldn't have been rewarding them by talking their little sister out of her impending expulsion.

And it wouldn’t have been continuing to answer texts from the guy, either. But Steve wasn't known for his sharp decision making skills, and he was kind of desperate for a friend who didn't make out with her girlfriend every time he came around. So maybe he could give this text-buddy thing a shot.

Unfortunately Billy was not just potential friend material. He was devastatingly hot, too. It was really, really inconvenient. Rating: E Pairings: Billy/Steve, minor Robin/Heather Content Tags: Modern AU, Texting, Teacher!Steve, Bullying, Car Sex, Bottom Steve, Top Billy, Typical Neil dbaggery

Excerpt & Art Preview:

Everyone at Hawkins High knew who Billy Hargrove was. He burst into school twice a month, full of rage and spite, every single time Max got into even the slightest bit of trouble. He’d stroll right into the principal's office without a word to anyone, leaving behind a lingering cloud of some cheap cologne that none of the other teachers could ever quite identify, even when they huddled together conspiratorially in the lounge to discuss the enigma that was Billy Hargrove. Steve, however, had properly identified the scent as destruction. It was the perfume of Ares, charging onto the battlefield with the sole intention of leaving only bodies in his wake. He smelled it sometimes in his dreams, and it would wake him with a start. Billy Hargrove was terrifying, and no one wanted to tangle with him—certainly not over the reputation of his little sister, Max Mayfield.

#harringrovebbpreview2023 #harringrove bigbang

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Billy Washington General Headcanon Alphabet

A - Animals - Are they an animal person? Good with them? Scared of them? 

Billy loves dogs (hence why his lock screen on his phone is of him cuddling one!) - he has always wanted a dog, but doesn't have the stability needed to properly look after one yet.

B -  Boozy - What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? 

Billy is a rowdy drunk. He loves a few pints, but isn't the best behaved afterwards.

C - Chocolate - Do they prefer savory tastes or do they have a (secret) sweet tooth? 

Savoury - his diet consists of Pot Noodles, crisps and those horrible microwaveable Rustlers burgers.

D - Decision - Are they impulsive decision makes? Do they follow their heart, or do they prefer thinking it over?

Billy is incredibly impulsive, which often leads to poor decision making. He's led by emotion and his sense of the unfair hand life has dealt him.

E - Explosive - Are they quick to get angry? What kind of angry are they?

Billy's emotional when he's angry - he'll shout and smash stuff, then cry out of frustration.

F - Friendship - Do they make friends easily? Or are they more hard to approach?

Billy doesn't struggle to make friends, but he's impressionable and easily led, so can often fall in with the wrong people. G - Ghost - Do they believe in the paranormal? Are they superstitious? 

Not at all.

H - Health & Hygiene - Do they take proper care of themselves or do they need to be reminded to have better habits? 

Billy doesn't shower every day and it's rare he'll brush his teeth before bed. He's a scruffy dude and he's forgetful, but he's not smelly.

I - Income - Do they feel like money = happiness, or are they happy with enough to survive? Do they dream of a lavish lifestyle, or do they think luxury is unnecessary? 

Billy dreams of making a better life for himself, but he feels trapped in poverty. He's definitely unsatisfied with the life he has, but isn't sure of how to better things for himself.

J - Job - If they’d be living in our world - modern AU - What kind of job would they have? Would they be good at it? 

Something artistic - a comic book artist. He'd be really good at it, it would give him a sense of purpose.

K - Kindness - Are they kind? Do they like to pay it forward? Are they kind to strangers? 

Billy can come across as belligerent at first, as he's not a happy guy. He warms up once you get to know him.

L - Love Language - What is their love language? Does it change when it’s a romantic relationship or are they consistent with how they show love to friends and partners? 

Billy's love language is acts of service - making cups of tea, picking up his other half's favourite from the chippy on his way home, rubbing their feet when they place them in his lap, etc.

M - Music - What kind of music are they into / would they be into? Can they sing / dance? Do they have good rhythm? 

No sense of rhythm and can't sing. Not hugely into music, but has a preference towards indie pop - Oasis, Blur, Arctic Monkeys, Kasabian, etc.

N - Nature - Do they enjoy the calm and quiet of nature or do they prefer people and the city? What kind of nature resonates most with them (sea, forest, mountains…) 

Prefers the city. Billy wouldn't know what to do with himself in the country.

O - Offspring - Do they want kids one day? Are they good with children, or do they prefer to stay away as far as possible? 

Deep down Billy would like kids one day, but for him that's a long way away - he can barely support himself, let alone a child.

P - Pain - Do they have a high pain tolerance? Are they quick to admit that they are in pain or will they endure it by themselves? 

Billy is a whiner when he's in pain - he definitely won't suffer in silence.

Q - Question - Are they curious by nature? Do they know loads of little trivia? Are they very knowledgeable in their field? 

Billy's not the most academic of people, but he's not bothered by it. He doesn't crave intellectual stimulation.

R - Rain - What is their favorite type of weather? Favorite season? Are they an ‘I’m always hot’ or an ‘I’m always cold’ kind of person? 

Billy loves sunny weather - perfect for sitting in a beer garden.

S - Sleep - What are their sleeping habits? What does their bed look like? 

Billy never makes his bed and the sheet is never on the mattress properly. He goes to bed late and wakes up late.

T - Tired - Are they a morning person? A night owl? A permanently exhausted pigeon? 

Permanently exhausted - Billy is always tired because his diet sucks and he doesn't get enough sleep.

U - Unwind - What do they like to do to relax? Do they need a lot of downtime?

Billy likes to unwind by watching TV or going to the pub - he's a man of simple tastes.

V - Vulnerable - Are they quick to overshare? Or do they keep up their defenses? How long does it take for them to trust someone and open up? 

Billy doesn't take much coaxing to open up - he's desperate for someone to unburden himself to.

W - Weird - Do they have any habits that are considered strange or abnormal by other people? What are they? 

Playing with this gum while he's chewing it.

X - XOXO - In a modern AU: are they a texter or a caller? Do they use emoji? What are their most used Emoji? Do they use a lot of common abbreviations, or do they type out everything properly? 

Billy prefers to call. Texting takes too long and he'd rather get straight to the point. He's the type to call you back if you text him.

Y - Yes man - Are they quick to help out friends? And Strangers? Will they be easy to convince to do things for others or do they prefer just taking care of their own business. 

Billy will help out those he knows and loves to the best of his ability - he's got a good heart.

Z - Zone out - Are they prone to daydreaming? If so, what are they dreaming about? Or are they more focussed, and if they are, how hard is it to break their concentration?

Billy is always lost in his own thoughts - mostly obsessing over wanting to better his life and thinking of ways to do it.

#billy washington #trigger point #ewan mitchell #my headcanons

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Rare(ish)-pair Yuumori ideas that I may or may not ever write (but they're like, bottom of my ideas list, so if anyone is inspired by these have at it, I can always do my own versions later lol. Tag me tho, I wanna read stuff!)

(These are for the most part absurdly off-canon and varying degrees of cracky. Roll with it.)

Bond/Albert in which Albert is a virgin and Bond has never had sex post-transition. Bond tops. It's like a very affectionate friends-with-benefits deal where they're learning new things together.

Billy and Louis friendship fic where Louis expects to find Billy annoying because he's kind of boisterous and overly familiar and whatnot, but instead finds himself surprisingly charmed and then they're buddies.

Billy and Bond fic where they bond over being Americans who faked their deaths and changed their identities. They may or may not kiss, idk.

Jack Renfield/Queen Victoria 😂😂😂😂

Mycroft and Miss Hudson have an incredibly tame, mature, and vanilla romance that is absolutely fascinating to everyone around them because they're all crazy people (affectionate). They do gentle missionary for the first time on their wedding night and have a baby precisely forty weeks later and everyone claps.

Mycroft/Moran. Has anyone done this? I literally have no reason for it other than that I was playing around with the character profiles trying to see which people might actually have anything in common based on age etc, and huh. I could find a way to make this work. They never have sex beyond handies because they can't agree on who would top. 🤣

John and Moran fic. Probably just a friend fic. Frankly this should be considered more in general in Holmes adaptations: these two are foils of each other, each the loyal soldier at Holmes' and Moriarty's respective sides. They should be drinking buddies in the Yuumori-verse, but in everything else they should be enemies with belligerent sexual tension.

Mycroft/William set in between A Scandal in the British Empire and The Final Problem, in which they have a lot of technically very good but very miserable sex while pining over each other's brothers and picking apart each other's brains brutally.

William/Billy thing where William after the coma is still working things through and is kind of emotionally distancing himself from Sherlock because he's still not Okay, and Billy is there for him. (Vermissa gets pushed later in this.) They get quite emotionally entangled in bonding over their similarities, but nothing actually comes of it, and Billy is the one to ultimately give William the push he needs to open up to Sherlock. It ends on a bittersweet note with the implication that Billy is more than a little in love with Liam, but knows Sherlock is who he should be with. Sad gays.

Bond/everyone where he's at the center of the most successful polycule in recorded history. 😂

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #fic ideas #silliness

[naomiknight-17]

Spent my morning chasing and wrangling cats because we're having duct cleaning done today and the workers have to be in almost every room of the house, and we don't want anyone getting stepped on or escaping

Leon was the first, and a good sweet little boy who let me just pick him up and give him kisses and gently nudge him into his carrier

Tiny Tim, however, knew what was up after I contained his brother. I spoke softly to him and picked him up gently and he immediately tried to bite me. I switched to a modified football carry so he couldn't nip my hands, and brought him to the carrier. Shockingly, once I put his front half in, he walked in the rest of the way.

I was worried about containing Billi the Belligerent, for she is a 19lb behemoth made of fur and spite. She was lounging in a sunbeam on the top floor. Incredibly, she was so melted and relaxed by the sunshine that I was able to push and prod her into the carrier with only a minimum of hissing and grumbling!

She was super pissed of course

Lastly, Pekoe.

If you follow my blogs closely, you may have seen me refer to her as Cryptid Cat, because she is so shy and fearful (ESPECIALLY of me, for some reason) that I hardly ever see her, and when I do, it's usually just an orange blur

Anyway.

She was hiding under Mom's couch, pushed against the back wall where I had no chance of reaching her. I pulled out the couch. She started to flee along the wall - but this is what I wanted. I knew she would run upstairs, where the only open rooms were the media/gaming room and the bathroom, each with minimal hiding places

Not only did she run up there as predicted, she made herself easy to find by SCREAMING HER LUNGS OUT in the nice echo-y bathroom. She acts like I'm the Predator or something.

I went up there and put the carrier in front of her. She considered jumping in the bathtub, but reconsidered and looked at the carrier, then looked at me, blocking the doorway

She chose the carrier. All I had to do was tuck in her tail and close the door. Her terror of me is sometimes useful.

So now Tim and Leon are in their carriers on my bed downstairs, and Billi and Pekoe are upstairs with Mom in her office while she's working, and I'm on the main floor awaiting the duct cleaners.

I'm already exhausted

#we just bought that new carrier for Billi. it's huge and cost like $80 #but we knew we'd have to contain them today and we wanted her to be comfortable as possible and have space to move #she is old and giant and deserves the nicest possible containment procedure #cats #mod post #long post #billi the Belligerent #pekoe honey #pekoe the cat #tiny tim the cat #the anti worm #leon the cat #leon oliver

[lullabyes22-blog]

Silco Headcanons 🦈

Silco headcanons because Crime Shark Dad is gnawing my brain with his sharp teefs again. Beware horribleness. Slight tw: for covert narcissistic features, I guess? 

A flair for both writing and oratory. Definitely of the Angry Young Man persuasion. The pen is mightier than the sword - and he ain't afraid to stab a bitch with it. (Literally, once).

Contrarian to the core. He is That Asshole™ who enjoys playing devil's advocate just to learn his opponent's triggers - then pushing for the sadistic satisfaction of seeing them explode. 

Arguing with him is an exhausting endeavor akin to getting arrested. Everything you say will be weaponized against you. Better to zone out and engage as little as possible until he grows bored and leaves you alone.

Rage levels on par with Vi's pre-betrayal. Rage levels on par with Jinx's post-betrayal. Either way, that's a loooooot of rage. He's learnt to flick it on and off like a switch - but it's always there, beneath his surface sophistication, bleeding into all of his choices.

Different types of alcohol bring out different sides of his nature. There is a story behind each glass of whiskey on the rocks (keeps him mellow), highball of red wine (makes him nostalgic), shotglass of tequila (makes him belligerent), snifter of bourbon (makes him downright murderous before he blacks out.) 

Excellent at chess - but loses to Jinx because she makes wildly unpredictable moves with no pattern for him to second-guess and plan ahead.

Neptune in Gemini, for all y'all astrology lovers. 

Keeps his salon appointments like clockwork. Enjoys haircuts and manicures, and the overall sensation of being served. Reminds him of the privations of his youth, and how the Undercity deserves better.

Not that he's sharing, mind you. Charity is not in his vocabulary. Janna helps those who help themselves.

His laugh is nearly as creepy as Jinx's. One time they both burst into laughter at an awful joke - and every lackey within earshot thought the Drop was possessed by poltergeists. 

Surprisingly good dancer. Snappy footwork and a keen sense of rhythm. Also executes a mean hitch kick. 

His wardrobe costs more than his entire family could ever make in ten years. Every so often, he remembers this. Then he goes out and buys another suit.

Talks during sex. You’ll get a running commentary of all your best and worst attributes. Rip.

Has a weakness for Jazz music. Billie Holiday, Sinatra and Miles Davis leave his mood sentimental, upbeat or brooding, respectively. 

Master of the backhanded compliment. 

His style of seduction is negging you until you’re in tears. You’ll wake up in his bed the next morning, wondering Wtf just happened?

When he and Vander were teenagers, they hotwired an Enforcer's patrol-car and crashed it at the edge of the Sumps. Ranks as one of his five happiest memories. 

Oral fixations. If there's no cigarettes in range, he will gnaw pencils, straws, ice cubes, chicken bones. Younger, he used to chew his own fingernails, and learnt to wean himself off the habit because it telegraphed insecurity.

Those crooked teeth are sharp af. 

Code-switches seamlessly. His Piltie accent and mannerisms were acquired after spending time in Piltover’s academy on a Fissures’ scholarship. But if he’s drunk, angry or sleepy, the coarseness of the Lanes resurfaces in his speech patterns. 

Uses diminutives as a way to put people in their places rather than as a show of affection.

Speaking of affection - he grew up with little patience for physical displays. Then he met Jinx, and realized that a cuddly child climbing into his lap was maaaaybe not so bad. He'll indulge in it, but only up to a certain point. He's a busy man with a hundred things to do.

His love language is quality time + words of affirmation. He is also adept and welding them as weapons to get what he wants.

Can cook. i.e. can make edible food out of inedible food. Never particularly cared for fancy cuisine; he eats to live, not the other way around. Jinx changed that. Her horror at the blandness of his daily menu (fry-up for breakfast, boiled mutton for lunch, slurry mulch for dinner) motivated him to diversify his palate. Now he can whip up the spiciest stew and ice the cutest cupcakes. Sssh. It's the Undercity's best kept secret.

He enjoys being near bodies of water. Regularly goes to the Pilt - sometimes with Jinx, sometimes alone - to wade through the waters that nearly claimed his life.

Still capable of roof runs. Sadly, he's not as swift as during his youth. The injury to his eye has also screwed with his inner-balance; narrow spaces give him a queer sensation of vertigo.

A natural storyteller. Knows almost all the urban legends and folkore of the Undercity. He’d use them to entertain or soothe Jinx if she was upset.

Vander taught him to throw punches as a boy - same way Vi used to share her moves with the other sumpsnipes. The lessons still exist in his muscle-memory. He's deceptively spry and can pack a nasty right hook. 

He also fights insanely dirty. 

Consummate showman. Has an entrepreneur's fire in his belly and can charm you into forking over cash for the shittiest object - simply with how he dresses it up with his words.

A confrontationist with authority figures. As a teenager, he’s gotten into trouble with Enforcers on multiple occasions. Older, he's no different. He's simply traded his belligerence for a finely-concealed contempt. Also: bribes.

His favorite color is blue (because: Jinx).

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #arcane meta #silco meta #silco headcanon #silco my beloved #arcane headcanon

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

February '24 Fic Round Up

Fics I Wrote

Dandelion Wishes - 15/15 - T - Harringrove - Billy finds a dandelion as a child and makes a wish for someone that will love him forever.

Like You Better - 1/1 - T - StKilt - A note in Steve's locker leads to a Valentine's date.

Show Your Love - 1/1 - G - Harringrove & Carobin - Steve goes a little overboard for Valentine’s Day and Robin does her best to make sure he doesn't end up broken hearted.

Fics I Read That You Should Totally Consider Checking Out

(I don't save a lot of time for reading but I thought it might be nice to share)

I Drive Fast I Am Alone At Midnight - 1/1 - E - Harringrove -Visiting a run-down bar on the edge of town wasn't Steve's smartest move especially as it was full of danger but he wants to see Hawkins in his rearview mirror. And he wants to go on his terms.

Text to Heart - 16/17 - E - Harringrove - When Steve received a slew of belligerent texts from one of his students' guardians, the best course of action would have been blocking them. Certainly, it wouldn't have been rewarding them by talking their little sister out of her impending expulsion.

And it wouldn’t have been continuing to answer texts from the guy, either. But Steve wasn't known for his sharp decision making skills—and he was kind of desperate for a friend who didn't make out with her girlfriend every time he came around. So maybe he could give this text-buddy thing a shot.

Unfortunately Billy was not just potential friend material. He was devastatingly hot, too. It was really, really inconvenient.

(I've only found time to read the first chapter so far but looking forward to reading the rest this March and then hopefully digging into some other bb fics too.)

#harringrove #stkilt #jellyghostfic #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve Harrington x kilt guy #jellyreclist #rec list #i was going to start posting new stuff today but i decided to give myself a break form editing. so next week.

[foundtherightwords]

The Quiet Chaos - Chapter 7

Pairing: Billy Knight (Lethal White/Strike) x OFC

Summary: After a bad breakup throws her carefully-planned life into disarray, Esme has sworn off dating forever. However, when she forms an unexpected connection with a young man named Billy, who's dealing with his own struggles, Esme is forced to face the truth: sometimes you can't plan for love.  

Warnings: mental health issues, angst, slow-burn, developing relationship, dysfunctional family, some violence (non-graphic), some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter warnings: semi-public sex (non-explicit), some mentions of violence and death (events that occurred in "Lethal White")

Chapter word count: 4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Chapter 7 - New Year's Eve

Once the shock wore off, Esme noticed certain resemblances between Billy and the older man, the same dark hair and pale skin, the same shape of the eyes, but she still had a hard time accepting that they were actual brothers. It was in their expressions, she decided. Just like with her and Mum. Regardless of how he was feeling or what he was thinking, there was always sweetness and softness on Billy's face, while Jimmy's remained hard, even when he was smiling. She remembered what Billy had told her about Jimmy—his militant activism, his belligerence, the crowd of girls always hanging around him. Looking at Jimmy now, she could still see how girls might have flocked to him, but whatever charisma he had possessed in the past was now worn thin by his stint in prison, barely concealing the danger lurking underneath.

"Who's this?" he asked, jerking his chin toward Esme and Angua. "You're shagging her? Or is it the dog?"

Heat scorched Esme's cheeks. She stepped forward. "Excuse me—"

Billy turned to her and dropped his voice. "Go home, Esme. Please."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him!"

Billy seemed to regain some self-control. He stood up straighter in front of Jimmy, and asked in a steadier voice, "What are you doing here, Jimmy?"

"That all you have to say? No 'How are you, Jimmy? How's prison?'"

"How'd you get in?"

"I have the keys. It's still my name on the lease, innit?"

"Not if you haven't paid the rent in three years," Billy said.

"Can't exactly do that from prison, can I?" Jimmy looked around the room. "You seem to be doing alright though. How's all that money working out for you?"

Billy frowned. "What money?"

"The Chiswells'. I know they made a load of money off of some painting after old Chizzy popped his clogs. You saw any of that?"

The name Chiswell rang a faint bell in Esme's mind, but the rest of their conversation might as well be in a foreign language as far as she was concerned. What wasn't lost on her, though, was how pale Billy had gone, how tearful his eyes were, and how his right hand had resumed its tic. She grabbed his hand, holding him to her, holding him to reality. "I think you should go," she said to Jimmy.

Jimmy's eyes flicked to her. "You need your girlfriend to fight for you, Billy?"

"I—I don't know what money you're talking about."

"The money they owed us." The danger shimmered, threatening to erupt at any moment. "The money from selling Dad's"—again, his eyes flicked to Esme, with more hesitation this time—"Dad's things. I want my share."

"Please—please stop going on about that, Jimmy," Billy said. "You've caused enough trouble—"

"You were the one that caused trouble!" Jimmy jumped to his feet, and Esme could almost see Billy as a little boy, cowering in front of his big brother. "I told you I'd take care of you once I got the money, but you had to go and cocked everything up! You and that sick story you got in your fucked-up head—" 

"It wasn't a story! It did happen! Only..." A note of uncertainty crept into Billy's voice. "Only it didn't happen exactly how I remembered it."

"See? You can't even get it straight!" Jimmy was positively gloating now. "And how did you know what really happened anyway? Because that bloody Strike told you?" He turned to Esme. "Don't believe anything my brother tells you. He gets mixed up—"

"No!" Billy shouted and spun around to face Esme, his eyes pleading. "Esme, please..."

"It's OK." Esme tightened her grip on his hand. "I believe you." She had no idea what Jimmy and Billy were talking about, but Billy was getting agitated, and she knew she had to get him out of there before anything worse could happen. She tugged him toward the door. "C'mon. Let's go back to mine. Let him stay here if he wants."

"That's right, Billy. Run away again," Jimmy called after them, as Esme dragged both Billy and Angua from the flat. The little dog tugged on her leash, looking like she was getting ready to take a chunk out of Jimmy's leg, so Esme had to scoop her up. Jimmy smirked. "I'll get my money, one way or another. I will."

With her hands full, Esme tried to kick the door in his face, but it was too heavy and didn't give a very satisfying slam. The last thing she saw, as the door swung shut, was the cold marble eyes of Billy's brother, fixed on her.

***

Later, when they were in her flat and in bed, Billy finally told her the whole story, and the entire heartbreaking puzzle became clear.

"Do you remember a murder, a few years ago, of a minister named Jasper Chiswell?" he said.

Now that she thought about it, the name did sound familiar. She never kept up with current events, but Neil or her co-workers might have mentioned the case. "I think I've heard about it, yeah. Didn't it have something to do with a lost painting?"

"That's the one. The whole thing... well, I guess I sort of started it."

"What? How?"

"My dad worked for Chiswell. Jimmy and me, we grew up on their estate."

"What did your dad do?"

Billy's hand vaguely touched his chest and nose. "He built gallows for Chiswell," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Esme thought she'd misheard him. "He built what?"

"Gallows. To sell."

"But I thought they were illegal!"

"They are. But we didn't know that at the time. And he would make me carve the Horse on them, as a sort of marking."

"Oh, God."

Billy was shaking again, and Esme swallowed her own horror to wrap her arms around him, while he continued the story.

It was complicated, and Billy didn't have all of the details, but from what Esme could gather, a few years ago, in the middle of a psychotic breakdown, Billy had sought the help of a private investigator, Cormoran Strike, to discover the truth behind a murder he thought he'd witnessed on the White Horse when he was a child.

"Only there was no murder," Billy said. "A kid did get strangled up there, but he didn't die. I got mixed up. But Mr. Strike said that thanks to my story, he found out that Jimmy was blackmailing Chiswell about the gallows, and it helped him solve the case. He said I was a good witness." His face glowed briefly with pride.

Once Chiswell's murder had been solved and the painting found, Chiswell's daughter, Izzy, had offered to pay for Billy's treatment.

"And that's why Jimmy is mad at me," Billy concluded. "He thought I got the money that was owed us, and he didn't. But I don't know anything about it. Izzy—she just set up some sort of fund for my medications and therapy and things like that. That's all."

Esme's mind was a confusion of thoughts. She wondered what her parents would make of Billy if they knew. Even Mum couldn't make a story out of this, she was sure. It was too dark, too horrific to even think about. And it wrung her heart to think of Billy, so brave, so kind, trying to seek justice for an unknown child, when he himself was going through hell. It made her hate Jimmy even more, for preying on Billy's one weakness and making him doubt his own mind.

"Why didn't you move out of that flat?" finally she asked. "Cut contact with him?"

Billy looked at her for a long moment, his eyes hopeless. "I can't."

"But he's bullying you!"

"He's the only family I have left."

"Sometimes it's better to have no family at all," she said, not caring how cruel it sounded.

But Billy did care, because he untangled himself from her. "That's easy for you to say."

There was a bitter note in his voice, a resentment of her privilege. Yes, she supposed it was easy for her to talk about cutting off families when the worse her parents had done was forget a few meetings with her teachers. The thought brought shame, and with shame came anger.

"I'm only trying to help, Billy."

"I'm not asking for your help."

He turned his back to her. Several times during the night, she thought about reaching out for him, but his back remained against her, like a silent, impenetrable wall, and she couldn't bring herself to breach it. By the time she woke up the next morning, he was gone.

***

It was their first row. Esme told herself that it was normal for every couple to disagree and argue, that it couldn't be all lovey-dovey all the time, but this felt more serious than the usual lovers' quarrel. Everything had started with the visit to her parents, which had seemed fine on the surface, but must have affected Billy in ways she couldn't fully understand. And then Jimmy's appearance had exacerbated it. It was almost as though—yes, as though Billy was ashamed of who he was and found her sympathy condescending. But surely, he would know that she didn't mind any of it and that she truly cared for him, wouldn't he? If she had minded, she wouldn't have gone out with him in the first place.

That irritation of being misunderstood kept Esme from apologizing first. She still checked in with him to make sure everything was fine, but his answers were all short and snappish, and that irritated her more. I haven't done anything wrong. Why am I wrong for telling him to cut off his abusive brother?

But at the same time, she was worried that she had been too overbearing again. Who am I to judge him for clinging to his brother, while I'm still trying to seek approval from Mum and Dad? The only difference is that Mum and Dad are never abusive. She didn't want to follow that train of thought. She didn't like to think that she was just as blind as he was when it came to family.

They had made plans to celebrate New Year's Eve together, but when he still hadn't contacted her on the day, she accepted a last-minute invitation to a friend's party, out of spite. 

She had an absolutely miserable time.

It wasn't just that she missed her quiet nights with Billy and Angua. The friend, Olivia, was one that Esme knew through Neil, and one of the few friends she kept after their breakup, but even though Olivia was tactful enough not to invite Neil to her party, there were still too many of their former mutual friends there for Esme to really enjoy herself. She felt they were all walking on eggshells around her and found their careful cordiality irritating. She knew they didn't mean it—she knew they were being genuinely nice to her, but at the same time, she couldn't stop her insides from curling up in shame when one of them smiled at her or when their eyes happened to land on her empty ring finger.

Suddenly she understood where Billy's anger had come from. She was clear-minded enough to know that the shame was all in her head, but for Billy, who had been looked down upon his whole life, it was natural to conclude that her sympathy simply meant she pitied him.

An hour and a half into the party, Esme made up an excuse about having to go home to check on Angua and left, after sending Billy a text.

Can I stop by your place? I really want to talk.

His reply came quickly: I'm at the studio. Then, perhaps in an effort to sound warmer, he added: No one here anyway. You can stop by.

The woodworking studio was quiet and echoing, the looming dressers and cupboards and hulks of tree trunks stacked along the walls giving it a slightly eerie look. Esme followed the sound of chiseling and found Billy sitting under a pool of light, his back to her, working on something she couldn't see. Hearing her footsteps, he turned around. His eyes brightened at the sight of her, though he tried to look indifferent.

"Hi," she managed. It had only been five days since they last saw each other, yet it seemed much longer.

Billy stood up. He took in her cocktail dress—a black velvet bodice with a low back, and a cloud of white tulle for a skirt—and asked, his voice sullen, "Going to a party?"

"I just came back, actually. It wasn't much fun." She added, in a small voice, "Without you."

He gave her a fleeting glance, that familiar battle between happiness and doubt playing out across his features again. She made a promise to herself that as long as they were together, she would do her best to wipe away that doubt.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," he said. "I wanted to, but—"

The uneasiness in his voice was unmistakable. "Is Jimmy still at your flat?"

"No. He's gone to stay with some mates."

Esme let out a relieved sigh. That's good. At least he's not around to bother Billy anymore. "Listen, Billy." She stepped forward and touched his wrist. When he didn't move away, she took his hand. "I'm really sorry for what I said the other night. It's not my place to tell you what to do about your brother. I overstepped. I'm sorry."

Billy kept his eyes turned away, his other hand fiddling with the chisel he was still holding. "'s alright," he mumbled. "I know you meant well." Though he still wasn't looking at her, his voice was no longer sullen. She gave him a tentative smile and squeezed his hand briefly. She'd been hoping for a more definite reconciliation than this, but perhaps she needed to give him time. Perhaps it was best not to discuss the matter any longer.

Now that the apology was done with, Esme found herself dithering. As she cast about for something to say, her eyes landed on the slab of wood Billy was working on, about the size of a cupboard door.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's for the exhibition."

Esme tilted her head. There was the raised shape of a face carved into the wood, but no clear features yet. "What's it going to be?"

Billy blushed. "Um, you."

"Me?" She looked at the block more closely and thought she could recognize the set of the chin, the hint of a braid curved along the neck and down the shoulder. She looked again at Billy's flushed face and thought of his hands lovingly carving her features, breathing life into that wood. A bubble of warmth burst in her chest and spread all over her body.

"I mean—if you don't mind being a model, that is," he continued, still keeping his head down.

"No, not at all. Right now?"

"Are you busy? Do you need to get home to Angua?"

"No, she's staying with Priya. I didn't want to leave her alone with all the fireworks going on."

"Well, the exhibition's in two weeks, so..."

Esme made a noise of disapproval that her younger siblings would've recognized. "You're leaving it kind of last minute, aren't you?"

"I couldn't decide what to do," he said sheepishly and directed her to a stool next to the work table, under the light.

She took off her jacket and sat down on the stool. "Do I need to strike a pose or—"

"No, this is fine. May I—?" He pulled her braid over her shoulder and stood for a moment, rubbing the tip of her hair between his fingers. Then he finally lifted his eyes to look at her and said, quietly, "You're beautiful."

"Oh, stop it," Esme said, the warmth in her chest now spreading to her face. She tried to hide her self-consciousness with a joke. "Draw me like one of your French girls." Billy gave her a confused look. "Haven't you seen Titanic?" He shook his head. "Oh, dear. We'll have to watch it together someday then, if you don't find the ship-sinking bit too stressful. It's not on my list of top ten films or anything, but it's entertaining enough—" Then, realizing she was babbling again—"Sorry, I'll let you concentrate now."

Billy bent over the wood, chiseling it with a steady, confident hand, without even having to pencil down a rough sketch first. Esme tried to sit still and keep her countenance, but she couldn't stop a shy smile from stealing across her lips as she watched her features taking shape on the wood. Her own hands could cut and stitch and bandage, but she was hopeless when it came to anything remotely artistic, so it was fascinating watching him work. When Billy caught her smiling, he smiled back at her, and the warm, fuzzy feeling in her heart grew.

Once Billy finished with the outline of her face, he picked up a finer gouge and started on her features. But here his confidence seemed to fail him. Several times he looked at her, put gouge to wood, then took it away again.

"What's the matter?" Esme asked.

"I can't—I'm afraid of getting it wrong."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

But her words were no use. After watching him fumbling with the gouge for another minute, Esme got down from the stool and approached him. "Maybe you should take a break."

Billy gazed at her. He put a hand toward her face. "Jacob says sometimes we have to get a feel of what we're trying to carve, before putting it onto the wood," he said. "Can I—?"

She wasn't quite sure what he had in mind, but she moved closer until her cheek rested in his palm. He ran his fingers ever so gently over her features, starting from her hairline to the curves of her eyebrows, down her nose, across her cheekbones, along her jaws. As his fingers brushed over her eyelids, she let her eyes fall shut, so she could focus solely on his touch, the warmth of his palms, his calluses tickling her, sending an electrifying shiver down her spine and setting her heart thumping. She hadn't felt like this since they kissed in the greenhouse. It had been over two months, and although they regularly slept in the same bed and kissed and cuddled, she hadn't wanted him again, not as much as she did now.

Then his thumb grazed her mouth, tracing the contour of her lips, and, almost involuntarily, she parted them and let her tongue touch his rough skin. A gasp escaped him. His fingers paused in their exploration. Slowly, Esme opened her eyes and saw Billy staring back at her, his hands still cupping her jaws, his face so close that she could feel his breath, hot and trembling, on her cheek.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

And he did. But this wasn't their fumbling first kiss in the greenhouse, or the frantic kisses leading up to that disastrous first night, or the sweet kisses in the days that followed. This was something deeper, more languorous, an opportunity of exploring, in shape and taste and feel. She pulled back a little, breathing in his warm, earthy scent, like fresh sawdust, before diving back in, mapping his mouth with her own, a bit more confidently this time, discovering all the ways their curves fit together so perfectly, each movement, each tremble of her lips exquisitely matched by his.

Then their tongues met, and the kiss became hungry, intense. His hands left her face, one to clamp on her waist, the other buried into her hair, pressing her close to him as if afraid she was going to slip away. His lips caressed her throat, and the hand on her back tugged at the zip of her dress, pulling it over her shoulders, over her breasts, while his lips continued to travel further down. Her hair snatched on the zip and came loose from its braid, but she didn't care. Heat bloomed on her skin wherever his mouth touched, and a pulse throbbed between her legs, aching, yearning.

"I want you," he panted, pressing his face into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, his beard scratchy on her skin. "I want you so much..."

"You can have me." And then, emboldened by his desperate, almost savage touches, she said, "You can. Here. Now."

His head reared up. His eyes stared into hers, searching, burning. She gave him a small nod.

With renewed frenzy, he pulled her to him, so tightly that she almost didn't notice when he picked her up and set her on the table in front of him. But then, all of a sudden, he seemed to be struck by a bout of uncertainty.

"Are you sure—?" he asked.

She was ready to cut him off with another kiss, but the memory of their first night together came flooding back. She had refused to listen to him back then. She would not make the same mistake now.

"I am," she said. "But if you're not—if you don't—" Please, please, don't let this turn into another disappointment.

"No." He undid her hair tie and gently pulled her hair free of its braid until it was a mass of mahogany over her shoulders and her back. "I am sure," he said, brushing the hair out of her face.

Don't think, just do.

Kicking off her shoes, she wrapped her legs around his hips and unbuttoned his jeans. He reached under her dress, pushing the fabric up to her waist, while his fingers continued their tracing of her body, reaching into other, more intimate places, until the ache became almost unbearable.

He pushed into her. She lifted her hips to meet him, and felt herself filled with heat, with him, as she threw her head back and dug her heels into his calves to hold him close, closer, still closer, because she could not get enough. There was no more fear, no more darkness to hide her shame, nothing else but the feel of him around her, inside her, under that bright, glorious light, until she cried out and the light exploded into a glow of white heat that obliterated everything except for him, as he joined her in that blissful oblivion.

Gradually, colors and details returned to the world. They remained in each other's embrace, the rumpled layers of clothes unable to dull the fire that smoldered between them still.

"Bloody hell," Billy breathed. "I think I prefer this to a kiss on New Year's Eve."

"Don't get used to it," Esme said, trying to sound stern and failing. If she was looking for a more definite reconciliation, this was it and a thousand times more. She giggled. "I feel like we owed Jacob an apology. First we made out in his greenhouse, and now—this—on his work table."

"I'm thinking more of a thank you," Billy said.

Esme's giggles turned into laughter, and Billy laughed as well, a rich, warm sound that came from deep within him. Esme pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling that laugh reverberating through her and all around her, wishing she could distill that moment and keep it forever. This is all I want. All I ever want. Here and now. If I could just have this, I wouldn't wish for anything else.

They reached her flat just as fireworks erupted across the sky. "I know I said I preferred what we did to a New Year's kiss," Billy whispered, as they watched the sparkles blossom and dance, scattering jewels on black velvet. "But can I still have that kiss?"

"I don't see why you can't have both," Esme said and pulled him toward her once more.

Chapter 8

Taglist: @quinnypixie, @accidentalslag, @etherealglimmer

#billy knight #billy knight strike #cb strike #billy knight fic #billy knight x ofc #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn character #billy knight smut #joseph quinn smut

[biillyhargroves]

Steve Harrington has absolutely not known a single moment of peace since meeting Billy Hargrove because he is the certified mom friend and is perpetually worried about the trouble that Billy so obviously gets himself into constantly. Like, Billy just shows up with a black eye and when Steve questions him he merely shrugs and says, “Other guy looks worse.” without missing a beat. They go to a party and Steve cannot take his eyes off of Billy lest he wander off and try to pummel someone for…what? looking at him weird? saying something mean about Steve?

“I promise you don’t have to defend my honor,” Steve has had to tell an extremely drunk and belligerent Billy on far too many occasions to be normal. “In fact, please don’t.”

Oh!! And, of course, Billy is simply terrible at remembering to do very basic things like drinking water. The crankiness from the dehydration headaches is always a bitch. And what about food?? Billy fully believes that cigarettes and whisky counts as a meal and Steve has given up on trying to explain to him that it’s not, he just keeps snacks on hand like a soccer mom and presents food to Billy at random to make sure he’s eating.

How are six pre-teens easier to manage than one Billy Hargrove? Trying to wrangle Billy is absolutely impossible, Steve is exhausted, someone help him.

Steve to Billy at some point, probably, “You are insufferable. You are the bane of my existence. And I love you more than life itself.”

#harringrove #harringrove headcanon #billy hargrove #steve harrington

[thestrangestthing89]

Guns and the Upside Down

We have seen consistently throughout the series that guns don't work on the demogorgon. Not only that, but gun usage in general is rarely viewed as a positive thing.

S1 - Nancy shoots at the demogorgon at the Byers house. She hits it repeatedly and it doesn't die. Hopper and Nancy are shown to be the only main characters who use a gun. I don't get the impression from this that they are sending the message that a lot of action movies send - using a gun is badass and we need good guys with a gun. Oftentimes, Hopper is shown to be belligerent. He starts punching people or pulling a gun on them when he gets stuck and doesn't know what else to do. This season in particular he is shown to be in over his head whenever he starts reaching for a gun (i.e. he's cornered trying to sneak into the lab when he pulls a gun out). I think what they might be trying to do here is another trope inversion (I wrote about this more here). Nancy falls into the category of "giving a girl a gun to make her badass". Except the guns aren't working so it's not coming across like that exactly. S2 - At the end of the season, Mike says something along the lines of "we can't shoot our way out of our problems". And Hopper responds with "we don't know that". Except we do know that. Mike is consistently right when it comes to problem solving. And we also see that this is true. When the group is attacked at the lab, Hopper is shooting at the demogorgon. The most it seems to do is slow them down a bit. But it doesn't kill them. When him and El are back at the lab later, he is shooting at the demogorgon climbing up the wall. It makes them fall but it doesn't look like they are killed. We see that closing the gate is actually what kills them. S3 - Hopper uses a gun to kill the Russians in the lab. This is viewed as crazy by Joyce and Murray. He is being belligerent again and not thinking things through. Murray was handling their problems by talking to the guards in Russian. Nancy tries to use a gun to stop Billy from driving his car at them. This doesn't work. It's Steve driving another car into him that stops him. And we know Nancy's aim is good so she wasn't missing.

S4 - Hopper uses a gun in the Russian prison several times to shoot at the demogorgon and we also see Russian soldiers shooting at them. This does not work. It doesn't kill the demogorgon or stop it at any time. The most it does is slow it down a little. There are 2 moments (one with Hopper and one with the solders) where they show those characters repeatedly shooting at this demogorgon. It gets hit over and over again and doesn't die.

There is one exception here - the demogorgon that is tied to the table and cut open. Hopper shoots it once and it dies. This is the exception not the rule. This is the only time we see the demogorgon actually dying from a gun. Which leads me to believe that they either can be killed but they just have to be injured first - in this case cut open. Or the Russians were experimenting on it and did something to it so it could be killed. Nancy goes looking for guns in the UD and doesn't find them. The group ends up pivoting and problem solving instead. It's communicating through the lights that saves them.

We also see Nancy at the end of the season shooting at Vecna. At this point, Max has already died and the gates have opened. They are too late. Her shooting Vecna also doesn't kill him. He gets lit on fire and shot at and he isn't dead. So this wasn't a badass moment of the action hero storming in with a weapon and saving the day. They lost and people died. And this was partly because this plan wasn't well thought out.

They have consistently shown that it's the characters intelligence that gets them out of tough situations and not brute force. It's a show about nerds saving the day. I think the line Mike says in S2 about not being able to shoot their way out of this is going to come back around in S5.

The things that have worked against the monsters are - El, the bat with the nails (not sure if this has actually killed anything though), fire (not on Vecna, but Murray's flamethrower works on the demogorgon), an ax, and Lucas's fireworks.

Guns have not only not helped them in tough situations, they are frequently associated with the bad guys. Lonnie is abusive and forced his two sons to learn to use guns to toughen them up. It's this lens of toxic masculinity that the audience is viewing the depiction of guns with. This idea that Will needs to toughen up and get a gun next season. When he picks up a gun in S1 it's his last resort option and it doesn't save him. It doesn't help. Will is already tough and has been shown to be repeatedly. He has been traumatized throughout his childhood both by Lonnie and by the UD and he's still the kindest person on the show. That takes an emotional and mental toughness that most people don't have. He doesn't need a gun. Anyone who thinks this would be cool and good for him is not only ignoring the abuse that's associated with this (by Lonnie), but they are solely focusing on a form of physical toughness that is largely created by action movies. That blowing shit up and killing people solves your problems. It's directly associated with this need for a hyper-masculine solution to problems. It's not a narrative the show has ever used.

Which is why I think this is another trope they are trying to invert. We don't often see characters who solve their problems with intelligence. It's so often viewed as a sign of strength to just open fire. This is a problem for so many reasons but considering the amount of gun violence in the US right now, it's always shocking to see that there are still people who are viewing the whole "good guys with a gun" narrative an effective solution to problems. Again, this is not something the show has ever used even with Hopper and Nancy so I don't think they will go there now.

Jason, along with soldiers from the lab and the Russians, also fall into the bad guy with guns category. Jason is clearly becoming more and more unhinged as the season goes on and uses a gun on Lucas. I really don't love this moment considering the racial implications, but I do think that it's a consistent theme with the series with regard to how guns don't solve problems.

The show isn't shying away from taking a bolder approach to storytelling. They frequently invert tropes and they seem to be saving a few of their riskier stories for the final season (byler). I am certain that Will won't use a gun next season - it goes against his whole character arc, not to mention would be unnecessary if he has superpowers. But it would be a pretty radical move for them to also have Hopper and Nancy not use them too. It would end up being a different kind of story that I don't think the audience is used to seeing. The only example I can come up with of an action movie/show deliberately not using guns is Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the tv show not the movie). They went out of their way to rarely show guns and when they did it was always in a negative way. It also wasn't necessary. The main character has superpowers and guns don't kill vampires so why include it? So if the guns are also not killing the demogorgon why would they keep having their characters use them? It was noteworthy at the time because I don't think people know how to tell these kinds of stories without seeing the action hero shooting their way through a problem. And I don't think the audience knows how to interpret this without immediately resorting to the thought process of "he should use a gun". It would be a refreshing change to see a story not relying on this kind of writing. And I don't think it's outside of the realm of possibility to see them go there because it seems like they already are.

#stranger things #stranger things analysis #byler #nancy wheeler #jim hopper

[cannotgiveafuck]

Can you do some batfam headcannons? Or wonder woman, or YJL/JL?

idk if you even do asks bc I’ve only ever seen screenshots of your posts on Pinterest but I loves your Billy Bateson hc abt the JL not believing that he’s a kid.

love you! 💕

Hi there!

Uh. My posts are on pinterest??? And that's an old one too. Huh!

Well, having recently seen Black Adam, I'm imagining that the only reason Teth would fight Marvel is ground him bc Teth hates the Wizards and Gods so much for choosing his son as their Champion and making him experience so much grief, and then they go and choose another child.

Meanwhile Billy is a feral gremlin child that refuses to go to bed or be grounded by anyone, and will fight tooth and nail. Teths greatest challenge isn't another Champion, it's Billy Batson's belligerent stubbornness.

Anyway! If you go through the Answers or Billy Batson or Captain Marvel tags, you'll find more stuff. Oh, and there's a story I wrote that centers on my Billy headcanons.

#answers #billy batson #captain marvel #i get to asks when i remember tbh #so weird to know my weird headcanons are outside of tumblr #anyway im still on black adam so dont mind me #angry protective dilfs be like that