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weirdowithaquill · 2 months

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I think it's time you consider sharing your Duke and Rheneas ship concept (and the pufflings' sabotage efforts!) with the world 🙏

My memory is that they were too cute to languish forever only in DMs

Your memory is correct! And also really good! This conversation was months ago!

But here goes nothing - how I ended up shipping Rheneas and Duke:

It all begins with a certain @jobey-wan-kenobi and shipping Skarloey and Neil. These two are very important for Dukeas (Rhenuke?) - so let's cover them first.

These two are terrible at flirting. Like, legitimately bad. Neil gets a repaint when he's bought by the Crovan's Gate Mining Company (into SKR red!!) and Skarloey attempts to flirt and be suave to capture Neil's heart. Here's how he does:

"I like seeing you in my colour--" So far so good - but the engines don't really have good metaphors for clothes so it sort of falls apart: "--it would look better on... uh... oh..." Human pickup lines don't really work for engines, do they? Neil is so confused, and Skarloey is dying of embarrassment (the fireman said that it would totally work!)

Rheneas laughs himself sick.

Skarloey - after grumbling about Rheneas laughing at him - swallows his pride and asks his brother for help. (Side note - this is where our conversation started. We were talking about how the SKR is more interesting for family-values in the RWS.)

Rheneas has never had a crush before, and so his best idea is: "Why not ask him to double head a train with you?" Now, those of you who've instantly spotted the problem with narrow gauge Skarloey and standard gauge Neil double heading a train are doing better than these two hopeless idiots.

But Skarloey is not to be deterred! So he builds 'the truck' to pull trains on the standard gauge railway! Ah... but there's not enough traffic for double heading, so none of the managers will allow it.

It's not like Neil is any better though - this is the same boxy engine who saw Skarloey and went "he's so cute, but I'm too ugly for him..." at which point his crew face-palmed. So his crew convinced Neil to invite Skarloey to hang out at the works while he's being repainted into NWR colours (circa 1915). So Skarloey's there when he's sanded down and repainted.

Skarloey gets a nosebleed and passes out.

And Neil thinks that Skarloey just fell asleep! Even as the mechanics at Crovan's Gate are gathering around him to study him because no engine has ever had a nosebleed before, oh my goodness look at our discovery!

These two are disasters.

Peter Sam is no help either. Peter Sam is about as innocent as a three-year-old (Duke was not going to let no dock workers sully His Puffling, thank you very much) so his best advice is to: "Sing to him!" "What song?" "Uh..." Peter Sam doesn't do proper songs, he makes up ditties! What do you mean, wooing the boxy engine involves actually knowing music?

Skarloey just skips over asking Sir Handel for advice. Which is probably for the best, considering Sir Handel's attempt at flirting was to basically stun Gordon by talking his ear off and insulting his own coaches.

Yeah... none of these engines are very good at this.

But yeah, it probably takes until Rusty and Duncan figure themselves out for Skarloey to get some good advice. Cause of all the engines on the SKR, these two are the first to get into an actual relationship (with each other, but it's not Duncan's first, let's be honest). So, here's this centennarian-and-then-some engine that is Skarloey needing his romance to be chaperoned by these two youngsters... AND IT WORKS!

Finally he has the wingengines he needs: a foul-mouthed factory worker and something called a 'diesel'.

And Rheneas is still laughing in the background.

But it works! Skarloey buys some flowers with his driver's money and asks Neil out - and Neil says yes! (Let's all just headcanon that he was the Crovan's Gate Works engine at this point, okay? Okay.) Rheneas's first words upon hearing this are lost to time, but were either "Oh thank God" or "FINALLY!"

He is very lucky that he is at the works and hears about it there, or else he'd have gotten into a massive argument. But at the same time, he's rather sad, cause he's been using this romantic trainwreck as his entertainment for the last 100 odd years, throwing out slightly bogus suggestions to stir up the drama.

These two are going steady enough in 1965 for Skarloey to tease Neil by calling him "ugly but kind" in front of the Reverend - who accidentally takes it to heart.

We are all very lucky that said Anglican Reverend was out of earshot when Neil shot back a quip about nosebleeds.

But this is Rheneas' life up until 1970 - it's spent doing his job and laughing at his brother's absolutely hilarious and terrible love life. But romance? No, it's not in his cards...

And then Duke arrives.

And Rheneas goes “oh no, he’s hot.”

Rheneas immediately goes to his brother - because they're brothers, and they're supposed to help one another - completely forgetting the past 100 years.

Skarloey bursts into laughter. And then tells Neil, who also laughs. Rheneas is humbled with his own crush on Duke - much to his consternation.

But it’s worse cause Rheneas has to deal with two very overprotective children. See, Sir Handel and Peter Sam don't want to share their Granpuff. Cause they see Rheneas as a friend, not a weird step-grandpa, so stop butting in on our family. These boys have Granpuff-related trauma, and they are not handing over their Granpuff to just any old puffball. Duke for his part thinks Rheneas is cute - but his pufflings just keep calling him "a bad influence" - which is hilariously ironic considering Sir Handel.

Of course, being Peter Sam and Sir Handel, they also do their 'sunshine and thunder thing': "I think it's nice!" "You WOULD." Which naturally evolves into good-cop-bad-cop as Peter Sam is swayed by Sir Handel (and a sniggering Skarloey, but Skarloey's always had the best of intentions, right?)

Rheneas takes his own advice and asks to double head a train (cause at least he's the same gauge!) and Sir Handel slots himself in. Duke thinks it's sweet that Sir Handel is trying to spend more time with him. Rheneas is pulling his metaphorical hair out (oh, he knows - but he's also messing with Rheneas. He also talks to Skarloey).

Can you imagine how ridiculous it would be for everyone? Rheneas is just being interrogated in the background while Duke does a deadpan to some documentary crew like he’s in the Office: “This has been going on for 25 years. I have been dating Rheneas for 20 of those years.”

He has conveniently forgotten to mention this fact to Sir Handel and Peter Sam...

And that should have been that.

Right?

No. Cause then we talked about humanisations - and the story picked back up, only now we have to jump back to the year Duke got together with Rheneas. Now, for some reason or another (I blame the boulder), the entire SKR crew (Neil included) are suddenly turned human. After a few days of figuring out how being human works (cause we take most of three decades before we settle into 'humaning' - these engines are gonna need some help), they begin to act as normally as a bunch of engines-turned-humans can. There was one occasion where Peter Sam bear-walked across the yard because he couldn't figure out how walking worked, and humans have four legs! "Those are hands." "Good enough for walking!"

See, the engines pop into being human with bodies and clothes (this is important) - and for the most part, it's pretty stock standard. Rusty has overalls, Duncan has a few piercings, Sir Handel gets wheelie shoes (for his steamroller wheels!) and Duke has a massive overcoat that makes him look - for lack of a better term - rather chubby.

And he does nothing to dissuade the other engines from this line of thinking. On the surface, it makes sense after all! Duke has his large saddle tank, which translated over.

So it comes as a great surprise to everyone when Duke takes off his overcoat after the engine Duncan (who was pulling them in one of the passenger coaches) derails. Duke is not fat - no, he's been hiding tools in his overcoat... like a crowbar. In fact, Duke randomly takes off his shirt too so he can use said crowbar to lever Duncan back onto the rails all by himself (the shirt was... uh... too constricting?).

Rheneas gets a nosebleed - only none of the engines know how human nosebleeds work and panic. This of course tips Duke off that yes, Rheneas does have a thing for him.

So, Duke basically tortures Rheneas for weeks by volunteering to join the track-workers gang, and wearing a singlet and he has arms, why does he have arm muscles he is a steam engine! (I told someone about this, and they said - and I quote: "It's cause they're always pumping iron!")

Duke also keeps Werther's Originals in his overcoat to distribute to both his Pufflings and the local schoolchildren. Rheneas' heart cannot handle the adorableness.

This of course led to Rheneas confessing to Duke in the rain after the stationmaster's cat got lost. Rheneas had thought Duke would think he was cool if he found said cat first and rushed off... and fell into a ditch and sprained his ankle cause he's a human now, and people don't walk normal, why don't they have wheels - (oh wait, that's what trains are for). Rheneas had saved the cat, and then Duke helped him, asked why Rheneas ran off and didn't stick with the search party - and so Rheneas confessed in the moment. Very cliche romantic, but so am I a bit.

So that's how Duke and Rheneas ended up as a couple. A bit of magic, a whole lot of Duke's family torturing Rheneas and a missing cat.

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jellyfishloveletterghosts · 10 months

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Carerra_os @harringroveson-bingo cards 1-3 master list tags are in the links.

Card 1

A1 - Accidental Baby Acquisition- Harringroveson- Teen and Up Wip - The Wolves' Bunny - Steve finds himself caring for a wolf pup, soon enough more wolves come into his life.

A2 - Backrub - Steddie - Get Loose - Explicit - Eddie notices how tight Steve's shoulders are when he helps him apply some salve. So he offers Steve a backrub and they both get more.

A3 - Cock Worship - Harringroveson - All Hail The Cock - Explicit - Steve did not sign up for this nonsense.

B1 - Alpha Eddie - Steddie - I Can Taste You On My Tongue - Explicit - Steve is posing as an alpha in college but it turns out he already knows his dorm mate and it gives him one place he doesn't have to hide.

B2 - Free Space - Steddie - Daddy's Sweet Treat - Explicit - Eddie the camboy Steve has been having frequent private sessions with just happens to move into the same apartment building.

B3 - Accidental Kiss - Harringrove - Are You Done Thinking - Teen and Up - Billy and Steve aren't friends, aren't anything of note. But when Billy sees Steve walking home in the rain he sees it as an opportunity to change things.

C1 - Bathroom Sex - Harringrove- It's Not Gay If You Follow The Rule - Explicit- Billy has been on his ass since he got to town, so Steve decides to put an end to it by giving him what he wants.

C2 - Blind Date - Harringroveson - Two Blind Dates and One Pathetic Little - Teen and Up - Dustin and Max schedule blind dates for Steve on the same night. He insists he isn't going to go, you know like a lair.

C3 - Bad Pickup Lines - Harringroveson - The Cat, The Jester, and The King - Teen and Up - Every day Eddie comes and hits on the king's consort, today he also hits on the king.

Card 2

A1 - Voyeurism - Harringrove - You’re A Vision - Explicit - Billy dies but he's not gone. He spends most of his time haunting Steve.

A2 - Phoenix - Harringroveson- Burn Baby Burn - Mature - Steve helps the supernatural in need, Max calls him looking for help with the hunters after her and Billy.

A3 - Saliva - Steddie - Baby Boy - Explicit - The summer before the event of season one Steve tries to buy weed off of Eddie who insists he's to young, doesn't stop him from getting something else.

B1 - Tide To A Table - Fem!Harringrove - Best Behavior - Stevie needs to be on her best behavior and Billie makes sure she will be.

B2 - Free Space - Harringrove- Mantle of The Black Cat - Teen and Up - Things are looking really bad at the junkyard so Steve makes a deal with a talking cat.

B3 - Holding Hands - Steddie - Snow Angels - General - Steve's having a bad day but Eddie makes it better.

C1 - Possessive Billy- Harringrove - Benefits of Surviving - Explicit - Billy finds Steve at the gate when the demobats attack.It would be a happier affair if they weren't trapped and Steve wasn't on the brink of a heat.

C2 - Beta/ Omega Relationship - Harringrove- You're Here, Nowhere Else I'd Rather Be - Teen and Up - Billy didn't think Steve would come back and if he did he didn’t think he would be the same but here he is in the barn looking pretty as ever no scent of an alpha lingering or bonding mark in sight.

C3 - Merpeople - Steddie - Deaf To The Dead Man's March - Teen and Up - Eddie uses his song to bring the crew of a passing ship to their end, his song doesn't reach them all and he goes to investigate.

Card 3

A1 - Snowball Fight - Harringroveson - Snowbody Wants To See That - Teen and Up - Eddie starts a snowball fight in the parking lot with Billy. Steve wisely makes a quick escape inside.

A2 - Monster - Harringroveson - Turn No Cheek - Mature - Neil was never supposed to find out about their involvement with Steve and of course the man proves what a monster he is when he does.

A3 - Sex Toys - Steddie - Silver Surprise - Explicit - Steve makes a decision in the moment, Eddie isn't complaining.

B1 - Tied To A Bed - Steddie - I'll Be Sweet For You - Explicit - When Steve asks his mom to ask Eddie to share his heat with him he isn’t expecting to receive him like this. Good thing Eddie doesn't mind.

B2 - Free Space - Harringrove - Nest Material - General - Billy has been stealing bits of hair and fur from Steve since he got to town. Today it comes to a head.

B3 - Knotting - Harringrove - Shifting Pleasures - Billy takes thing out of hand one night. Steve might have fun but that doesn't mean Billy isn't in trouble for not asking first.

C1 - Vecna

C2 - Speed Dating - Harringroveson - Got Your Number - Robin forces Steve to attend a speed dating even. He might not find love among the women his dates are with but he does hit it off with two of his fellow suitors.

C3 - Table Sex - Harringroveson- The Curious Cat - Explicit - Steve goes in a room he is not supposed and gets all worked up because of it. Luckily the other residence of the tower are more than willing to help out.

#harringrove #Steddie #Harringroveson #jellyghostfic #master post #doing this all on my phone was such a pain. yhe internet situation has not been fixed ×.×#billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #metalsandwich

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sadhours · 1 year

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“I look for love in all the wrong places”

prequel to wicked sensations

a/n: this is my present to you all for 300 followers!!!! Thank you so much for enjoying my series. i hope i dont make y'all too sad with this one

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, messy Billy, sad billy, abuse mention, addiction, underage drinking, drug use, cocaine, marijuana, brief smut, Neil, homophobic slurs, sexism, angst lots of angst. This was sad to write.

masterlist (i accept requests)

taglist: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

Fingernails stained yellow from nicotine, Billy brings yet another Marlboro Red to his lips while Jennifer pours him another another shot of Jameson. He’s been here every single night for the past three months, the days bleed together but he’s under the impression he’s having a good time. Every evening folds out the same way and Billy likes a rigid routine. The liquor goes down without so much as a wince, the fiery sensation spreading down his throat and over his entire body. A comforting, numb warmth that’s become his most favorite feeling. In fact, Billy couldn’t go a day without it now. There’s a necessity to it, some might call it an addiction, but Billy thought it made the beatings guaranteed to him more bearable, therefore it’s a form of protection. Getting sucker punched by his dad didn’t hurt as much when he couldn’t feel anything.

The next bit of routine was also made certain by a woman double his age cornering him every night. Not usually the same woman, but always one old enough to be his mother. They’d all kind of bled together, dyed hair, heavy makeup and the same pickup lines. Are you old enough to be in here? or What’s a young handsome man like you doing alone in a place like this? And Billy would accept their advances every time, looking for attention anyway he could get it. Sometimes he wished he didn’t like compliments. The way these broads looked at him and talked to him made Billy feel powerful.

Tonight was no different, a woman he pegs to be roughly 40 situating herself between him and the jukebox as he’s flipping through songs.

Turning on the charm, Billy smirks, “Well, hi. Just what I was looking for.”

It’s a lie, he likes getting off and these women provide an escape but he always feels disgusting afterwards, so he drinks more to bring the numbness back. Regardless, he continues repeating the cycle.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” the woman teases and luckily Billy’s buzzed enough for it not to sting and spiral him into another episode. She never knows where she is. And he wonders where she is all the time.

“I’m a big boy,” he retorts, leaning closer to the woman.

She gives him what he thinks was supposed to be seductive laugh but it’s a little too deep and it brings him out of the moment, panic rising through his throat while he realizes this bar is dark and he can’t really be sure if he’s attracted to her.

Then she lifts up a tiny baggie filled halfway with an off white substance he’s beginning to indulge in most nights, “Want some?”

Billy knows he shouldn’t, he knows he’ll wake up tomorrow with the emptiest feeling in his chest that’ll drive him to chase after good feelings but no matter what, he won’t be able to get his serotonin back up for days. Nevertheless, he nods and follows the woman to the dingy, sticky men’s bathroom. She locks the door behind her and dumps a bit of the baggie out onto the toilet paper holder. Billy begins to think about what other disgusting substances have been on it as she cuts them each a line and pulls out a rolled dollar bill. He goes first, needing the courage from the drug to follow through with what this woman really wants. He snorts the cocaine, standing and hands her the dollar bill while he rubs his nostril with the back of his hand. He tastes the drip immediately as the warm numbness begins to wash over his mouth and descend down the rest of him. Then the excitement comes, his heart pounding out of his chest while he’s filled with a newfound confidence that was languidly slipping away minutes before. He watches as she snorts her line and when she’s finished, he hitches her foot up onto the toilet and undoes his pants. He fucks her quick and hard, glancing away when she turns her head to look at him. He doesn’t give a shit if it hurts her feelings. Billy pulls out and cums on her thighs.

He tucks himself in his jeans and tells her, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

However that’s not their only interaction of the night, like a fiend, Billy keeps returning to snort all the blow she has and let’s her buy him drinks all night. She gives him a crumpled napkin with her number on it and he purposefully misses his pocket, dropping it on the dirty bar floor.

As per his routine, he doesn’t stumble out of the bar until it’s closed and he drunkenly attempts to help Jennifer close it up. He drops a barstool on the bar only for it to come tumbling back down on his face, pushing him to the floor with it.

“Alright, Billy…” Jennifer sighs, “I think I can manage it myself. Get home safe, kid.”

He does, though he won’t remember the drive in the morning. His body crashes through his window, face planting on the hardwood floor and from where he lies, he can see a light flicking on from the crack under the door.

“Shit,” he mumbles, grappling to his knees and pressing his palms into his thighs.

He’s pleasantly surprised when a small redhead opens his bedroom door with wide eyes. His intoxicated smile falters when he hears Susan’s voice calling out for her.

“Sorry!” Max calls out, “Bumped into something. It was dark.”

“Go to bed!” his Dad yells and Max turns off the hall light after glaring at her drunken step brother. She closes his door and retreats back to her room.

She was a little shit but she was a really good sister, covering for Billy whenever she could. He stands to his feet and turns on his lamp, looking in the mirror to see his lip and nose are bloodied from either the barstool or the face plant, he’s not sure. He sighs, wiping his face with his sleeve before collapsing in his bed, succumbing to a hard sleep.

He’s not sure how long he’s been out when he wakes up, having no idea what time he even got home. But his heads killing him and the post cocaine blues hits hard, flashes of the older woman piercing his brain. He groans, reaching under his bed for a warm can of beer and sits up. He cracks the beer open and gulps it down, reaching for his pack of Marlboros to discover he smoked every single one last night. He winces as he stands up from bed, dropping the empty beer can to the collection strewn across his floor. He peeks out the window to see his Camaro parked halfway on the lawn and he cringes.

Billy strides to the bathroom, keeping the light off as he reaches for the rinsing cup and fills it with tap water. He drinks it and fills it again, repeating the process until his stomach churns and empties into the toilet. Over and over. Billy’s not a quiet puker either. He knows whoever is home can hear it but it’s common, they’ve got to be used to it. After collecting himself, he stares at his reflection in the dirty mirror and dim lighting seeping in from the tiny vent window. His lip is swollen, he’s got dried blood under his nose and massive bags under his eyes.

“God,” he groans before splashing water into his face. He braces himself as he exits, glancing up and down the hall before strolling back to his room. Before he can get there, he hears Susan’s hushed voice and he freezes.

“He’s a problem, Neil. Stumbling in at ungodly hours and he always reeks of alcohol,” she whispers.

“I know,” Neil responds, “I don’t know what else I can do.”

Billy shuts his bedroom door quietly, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. He digs through the pile of dirty clothes on the floor for a pair of jeans, pulling them over his legs and hopping into the rest them. He grabs a white muscle shirt, bringing it to his nose and wincing at the stench. He keeps digging through the pile until he settles on a black muscle tank instead. Then his phone rings, the shrill pitch of it sending a shockwave of sharp pain through his head.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, lifting it off the hook to be greeted by his girlfriend. Oh, shit, he’d forgotten he had one.

“Veronica, calm down,” he groans, slipping his Converse on. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I was busy.”

“Busy?!” she yells, “We had a fucking date, William.”

“Ugh, don’t fucking call me that,” he looks in the mirror, fixing his hair with what little energy he has. “Listen, I’ll be at your house in twenty. Bring weed.”

“You’re gonna make this up to me, Billy. I’m so sick of you leaving me high and dry.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he quips sarcastically before hanging up, hopping out his window and stealthily strutting to his car. He speeds off down the street before Neil and Susan can run outside to stop him. He takes a detour, stopping at a gas station to fill up his car and retrieve the ever needed pack of Marlboro Reds. “Ya know what, give me a shooter of Jack,” he adds, handing a wad of cash to the clerk who despite his disheveled appearance gives him fluttery eyelashes and blushed cheeks.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he winks to the girl as he shoves his change in his pocket. When he’s back in his car, he downs the shot and lights a cigarette before filling up his tank.

“You said twenty minutes,” Veronica scolds as she gets in the front seat, her blonde hair pristinely styled in big curls.

Billy snorts, “Hey, I showed up.”

“Yeah and you fucking reek of booze,” she complains. Billy shrugs, speeding off down the street. He whips through the neighborhoods, ignoring Veronica’s incessant yelling to slow down. He wonders why she even likes him, all she ever does is complain. He arrives to their usual spot, a parking lot a ways out that faces the ocean, no shore beneath it.

“Where were you last night?” she demands, sounding like a parent. She’s always like this. Well, she wasn’t at first. She liked Billy’s danger at the beginning, she used to call him wild child. She used to laugh hard at all his jokes and sing at the top of her lungs with him to his cassettes. She used to look at him with stars in her eyes. She used to love him.

“I was hanging out with Jennifer,” he deflects, not mentioning the coke or the middle aged woman he’d fucked without a second thought.

“You know she thinks you’re a loser, right?” Veronica reveals and Billy doesn’t doubt it. He knows he’s been going a little overboard since Susan and Max moved in. He know his dad grew to truly despise his mom over the years but he never dated another woman until he met Susan. Billy didn’t want to subject his mom to more abuse but he selfishly wished she’d come back, that they’d get back together.

“You are a loser, Billy,” Veronica seethes, “You’re turning into a total fucking burn out. We don’t even surf anymore.”

Billy takes the verbal censure. He always does, he’s heard the words so much they don’t even sting anymore. He no longer cares that he’s a huge wasting, disappointment to everyone around him.

“Did you bring the weed?” he asks, unbothered by the dumbfounded look on his girlfriends face.

She heaves a sigh and digs through her purse, imparting the bag of weed to Billy. He takes it, opening up his glovebox to grab his rolling papers. He grinds the weed between his fingers, hovering above the open paper, using his pinky to disperse the broken up buds. He rolls it expertly, eying his blonde counterpart as he licks up the side of the paper before sealing it up.

“Voila,” he sings, proudly holding up the joint to admire his handiwork. He brings it to his lips, flicking his zippo up to light it. He takes a deep hit, choking lightly as it stings his throat before offering it to Veronica. “I didn’t put any tobacco in it, just for you.”

“Oh, you’re so kind,” she sneers, her expression frozen in indignation. God, she’s such a bitch, Billy thinks.

He won’t let her ruin his high, he needs this. He’s gotta charge up before he can head back over to the bar.

“Do you even have a job anymore?” she wonders, venom lacing the question.

Billy snatches the joint from her lips before she can take a second hit, “I do. I work tomorrow.”

He dreads to think about doing any strenuous labor with a hangover. Maybe he’ll claim window washing and tire pressure duty when he arrives. His boss is getting suspicious of him, though. The other day, he made a snide comment about Billy having a long night when he locked himself in the bathroom to spew for thirty minutes.

“Good. Our anniversary is coming up,” she reminds Billy, “I expect jewelry.”

He bogarts the joint, not passing it when he’s supposed to. He sucks more than half of it down before she notices.

“Hey! Give it here, it’s mine anyhow.”

Billy obliges, turning the stereo out and shoving a Metallica cassette into it and turning the dial to tune out any more of her whining.

Luckily, the joint seems to get to Veronica and she’s quiet for a while. Billy gets to admire the waves, the vastness of the ocean as the blue of it fades into the sky. It always calms him, helps him forget about Neil, Susan and Veronica. He can stare at it and even forget he exists.

Alright, he’s pretty stoned.

All part of his rigid routine, Veronica moves to the backseat and pulls him with her. He lays her down and hovers above her, his head fuzzy while they awkwardly situate themselves. It’s rushed, quick and to the point. Like it always is. She’s a means to an end and he is to her.

When they’re done, she tells him he needs to get a grip before Senior year starts in two weeks. He ignores it, Billy thinks he’s doing just fine. He wouldn’t have his life any other way.

He takes it easy that night. Which means he still stumbles through his window drunkenly but he’s not blackout drunk. He remembers the panic of the drive home, constantly checking his rearview mirror but blue and red lights. He showers after his morning hurl. Standing under the hot water a moment too long, making him late for his shift.

He grabs his work shirt from his backseat and begrudgingly makes his way into the garage, clocking in under the judgmental eyes of his boss.

“I know,” he mutters before he can be ridiculed, “I slept through my alarm. Won’t happen again.”

Unfortunately, Drew beats him to calling window washing and tire pressure checks. Billy’s stuck downstairs draining oil. It’s so hot down there, he yaks a few more times during the day. On his drive home, he’s particularly introspective. Finding he’s actually disappointed in himself for the heavy drinking and late nights.

When he walks into the door, he’s met with his dad, Susan, Max and his grandparents sitting around the table. An intervention? Seriously?

Billy groans, barreling through them to his room. Neil’s quick to follow, pounding on the door when it’s slammed in his face.

“William Ocean Hargrove, get your ass out here now!” Neil bellows behind the think particle board. Billy revels in his mom giving him that middle name, forcing his dad to say it whenever he was pissed and no doubt bringing Billy’s wild-spirited mother to his mind.

Billy opens the door. “I’m covered in oil. Let me change,” he spits at his dad before slamming the door again.

“Neil,” Susan says pointedly.

He hears his dads footsteps walking away and he glances to his window, debating if he should run away again. He’s embarrassed with his grandparents sitting there and he’s sure Neil won’t hit him in front of them. Not until they leave.

He changes into a clean pair of clothes before making his entrance out, standing in front of five pairs of concerned eyes. He heaves a sigh and motions to them, “Go ahead. Tell me how my life’s going down the shitter and I’m a huge fucking disappointment to all of you.”

He thinks it’s unfair Max and Susan are here. They’ve known Billy all of six months. They don’t fucking know him yet they’re trying to be family. Well, as far as Billy was concerned he had no fucking family. This house, these people, they had no warmth. They didn’t truly give a shit about him, they just wanted to control him, didn’t want people to look at them differently because he was an embarrassment.

“Billy…” Susan starts and he laughs.

“Listen, I barely fucking know you. You can’t waltz into my life and expect to be my fucking mother. You aren’t and you’ll never be,” he spits.

“Maybe I should start…” his grandmother says and it breaks his heart. She was the tiniest bit of solace in his life. She was the escape when things had gotten too bad. When Neil couldn’t even fathom looking at Billy, he would ship him off to his parents. He spent every summer there until he was fourteen. Then Neil wanted him working.

Billy sits down at his grandmothers request, his breathing labored as he’s stricken with guilt.

“Honey… we’re all so worried about you. Your dad tells me you’re never home, you’re drinking all night and,” she can’t finish, choking out a sob as she looks to her disheveled grandson.

Billy feels tears threatening his eyes but he’s quickly reminded about all the times Neil bullied him for crying. Calling him a faggot, a fairy, a pansy, every name in the book. He told him men don’t cry. Last I checked you didn’t have a vagina, he’d said. Billy steadies his breathing. He won’t cry, he can’t cry.

“Your behavior is unacceptable, son,” Neil chimes in and Billy keeps his face stoic, doesn’t want anyone to know how deeply he’s hurting inside.

“You’re a bad influence on Max,” Susan says quietly and Billy feels his blood boil. He never agreed to being any kind of influence on her. He never agreed to having them forced into his life.

Billy doesn’t speak, he stares at four consecutive holes in the table and remembers how they got there, his dad stabbing his fork into the table during a heated argument at dinner when Susan and Max had first moved in. He wonders if they’ve even considered why Billy is acting out. He assumes not, his feelings never a concern of theirs.

“This has to change,” Susan pleads.

Neil puffs his chest out, “William.”

Billy knows what his dad is getting at, looking up at him and holding his domineering stare.

“We’ve got a solution. We’re moving,” Neil informs him, “I’ve already got a job lined up.”

“What?” Billy asks, hurt present on his voice and then panic, “Where?”

“Indiana,” Susan states.

Indiana? No ocean. No waves. No calmness. No one he knows. He’ll be even more alone. Billy’s stomach churns, the emptiness of it of no concern to the bile rising in his throat. He abruptly moves up from the table, stomping to the bathroom where he collapses in front of toilet, and he heaves. The fluorescent yellow fluid forcing its way up his throat, burning his eyes and tearing up his airways.

He rests his cheek against the seat, unmoving as he realizes his life is over. Neil can control him better so far away. He’ll be so isolated from everything he knows and loves so well.

Billy stares at his Camaro packed to the brim with his belongings. It’s so wrong. The October breeze chills him as his eyes fall on the scratch along the side of the midnight blue finish. Veronica keyed his car and he’d attempted his best to buff it out but it was still faintly there. A reminder that he’d lived up to her shitty expectations of him.

Neil pats his shoulder, “We’ll get that fixed in Hawkins.”

He was annoyingly chipper since the intervention, clearly excited at the prospect of a completely isolated Billy.

“Max is riding with you,” he shoots his soon a pointed look. “Can’t have you running off.”

Billy sighs, realizing just how trapped he is.

This is it. He gazes back to the house he’d grown up in, his chest stinging at how unalive it looks. He stands outside of his car and looks around while Max sits in his front seat. His feet are stuck. He can’t possibly move them.

“Billy! Let’s get a move on! We’re on a schedule!” his dad calls from his truck and Susan honks from the U-Haul.

Fucking bitch.

Billy cries quietly as he drives away from home, not caring that Max can see it. He fucking loathed her and her mother for doing this to him. He doesn’t say a single word to her the entire drive. He doesn’t speak to any of them when they sleep in motels where Billy’s given a pillow and small throw blanket to sleep on the floor in each one. He’s disassociated the entire three days it takes to drive there.

He thinks Indiana is ugly and he’s unbelievably distraught when he sees the size of Hawkins. A town like this, everyone knows each other which means higher expectations from Neil. They drive past the school, Max commenting about how that’s where they’ll go, and Billy remains silent. The only bright side is no one will know who he is so he can be anyone he wants. And he’ll be damned if he’s not worshipped in this town by the end of his first week here.

a/n: thank you so much for reading. i really appreciate all the love i'm getting for the series. i hope you enjoyed this lil look into billy's life before the move

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic

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dollarbin · 4 months

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Shakey Sundays #1:

Neil Young's Neil Young

My buddy Greg asked me last weekend, very earnestly, why Neil Young? Why is he your favorite artist? Why?

Greg likes Neil. But he doesn't own 38 different Neil records which are what he'd grab, along with his kids and, I guess, the cat, if the house was on fire; nor has he temporarily and blissfully lost all sense of hearing after seeing Neil in concert eight glorious times, once driving 7 hours each way on a work night to do so; nor did he sing each of his safe-from-the-fire kids to psychedelic sleep every night of their childhoods with a steady diet of Powderfinger (my son always insisted the first line was "look out Momma, there's a white bird coming up the river"; if I sang boat instead of bird he'd sit up in bed, his doll Carson cradled in his arms, and howl in indignation), Lost in Space and Little Wing.

(By the way, that fire scenario really happened: long ago, when the kids were still little and there was no room whatsoever left in our tiny home, all my records were stored in a family cabin in the woods; one time I watched the backside of the ridge behind that cabin going up in flames and then rushed home to get everyone, and all of my Neil, into the car so we could get the hell out of there. Everyone/thing made it out just fine.)

In other words, Greg's not me. Plus, he grew up a Pearl Jam guy so we were listening to Mirror Ball as a common ground of sorts when the question, Why Neil Young?, was asked. At that point Neil was hollering about the place called downtown, where the hippies all go, so my first, slightly inebriated, explanation - "dude, I don't know, he's just the best" - didn't really fly. After all, the hippies were dancing the Charleston; they were doing the limbo.

Greg's question is a good one. What attribute can you insert after the statement "Neil Young is the best _____" that adequately describes his odd and supreme genius?

"Poet" doesn't work. Sure, Neil can write about roads stretching out like healthy veins and wild gift horses that strain the reins, but he can also dedicate a ten minute song entirely to describing one person's surplus of mashed potatoes.

Nor can you get away with "he's the best songwriter" when he's released at least 6 different versions of the song Dance, Dance, Dance and much of his oeuvre from the past 10 years spews hot, Promise of the Real sized chunks.

Even Neil's newest robot will probably concur: there isn't any single thing that Young is the stand-alone-best at. (Well, maybe he is the best at screaming into his guitar's pickups...)

And yet, for me, the truth has never been in doubt since I first heard Side 2 of On the Beach over thirty years ago: Neil Young is, and always will be, my favorite musician.

So I think it's about time this blog started wrestling with Neil "Shakey" Young himself. That's why I'm kicking off this weekend with the first of many Shakey Sundays: I'm gonna write about every one of Neil's studio albums, in order.

Those of you who only show up to see if I have more to say about John Darnielle's cooking skills: relax. I'll continue to post Dollar Bin posts on other artists alongside this new project. I promise. But be warned, Young currently has 45 studio albums to his name and I have a ton to say about all of them. So this will take awhile.

I'm not making any promises of the real here: I'll surely take some Sundays off, these posts will often appear, like this one, in truly Shakey fashion, on the wrong day of the week, and I may keel over or get a life before I ever write about Storytone or Fork in the Road. But it's time to give this Neil Young thing a shot, a shot that will ring all around the border, like a venom in the sky. Will we make it? Hey, who knows where or when. But let the Dollar Bin's Shakey Sundays begin.

Here we go:

Neil Young did not yet know how to be NEIL YOUNG in 1968. When putting together his debut solo album he:

Overdubbed instruments and vocals alike instead of leaving everything as live and raw as an octopus that's just been tossed up On The Beach;

Brought in ace session musicians and back up vocalists instead of the wandering cast of reckless, drunken fools who he's been working with ever since;

Boxed up (nearly) every raggedy edge of his sound into tiny, bite-sized morsels instead of pummeling us into submission;

Bounced around from one real studio to the next over three months instead of doing it all in a barn or in front of a crackling fire in the night;

Waffled between, and deferred to, three different producers instead of ordering everyone around like they were his private army of Jawas; and finally,

He recorded while sober.

And yet the end result is a lovely, under-appreciated record, one you're fairly likely to pick up in any Dollar Bin to this day. I suspect a lot of casual collectors have bought Neil Young in the last 55 years based on the twin false assumptions that Joni Mitchell painted the cover (she didn't) and that it'll sound, you know, like Heart of Gold. Lucky for you, those buyers listened to the album once, understood none of it, then chucked it. So go get it already.

I remember picking up my own copy for a buck or two. It was the summer of 1992 and I had a bus ticket to take me from my grandmother's house in North San Diego all the way to my buddy Ned's parent's house in Coronado. I was 16 and had the day off from my summer camp job. Every cent of my huge $46/week salary was in my pocket and I had zero bills to pay nor any responsibilities to speak of. That sounds so awesome.

Anyway, there I was on the bus, feeling groovy. I'm not too spontaneous a guy but I saw a record store along the way and got out; there was yet another shop across the street. Encinitas, CA, was a cool place to be 30+ years ago; today I'm sure those store fronts are both dedicated to the kind of high end vegan yoga wear I'd need to take out a home loan to get into. But oh boy, just imagine how good I'd look...

Neil Young was included in my Dollar Bin haul from that afternoon, as was Time Fades Away. Who knows what else; who knows why I remember any of this.

Then again, I know exactly why I remember this: it was one of the funnest days of my life. I showed up at Ned's a few hours later and showed off my new records to a pretty big swath of 16 year old boys. No one was impressed; at that point Neil's only real claim to fame with grungy white kids was that Sonic Youth had opened for Neil the previous year. No one really cared about Sonic Youth; they only cared that Nirvana had once opened for Sonic Youth.

Poor Kurt was still alive and well at that point; he was the most famous musician on the planet. Everyone wanted to talk about him, not speculate with me about the fact that one single song seemed to take up nearly all of Neil Young's B Side.

So, instead of talking about Shakey, we spent the rest of the day, and night, driving from one 7-11 to another all over San Diego county, hunting for the most mythical of Slurpee flavors: Cinnabomb. That's a quest that I suspect a lot of 16 year old boys could still passionately get behind. Sadly, we never found Cinnabomb, but I did learn how to jump out of Ned's Vanagon with everyone else at red lights and make a lap around the car while screaming.

Good times. No, Great Times.

At that point I liked Neil but was still a year away from lifelong devotion. In a future post about Weld (uh oh, maybe I will need to do all the live records too?) I'll describe what it was like seeing him live for the first time a year earlier; I think it permanently altered the shape of my face. But I was too young to really know it yet.

After 31 years of pretty regular listening to Neil's debut, I'd argue that it demonstrates just how many different paths were open to him as he transitioned away from what was essentially a big deal boy band, Buffalo Springfield.

Neil Young opens with The Emperor of Wyoming, one of the most unique tracks Young's ever produced. As the strings play toss with Neil's slick guitars, opening a comfortable prairie scene to the sun, the wind and to our cheerful gazing eyes, we're given the immediate sense that Young could have wound up becoming a proper musician: scoring films, producing for others, you know, making music for normal people.

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Missing entirely from the track is any sense of underlying menace, and menace is always a hallmark of Young's best work. Rather, it sounds as though the fine people of Wyoming are all holding hands and working together to build their Emperor a lovely barn, a barn no one will ever convert into a recording studio. Rather, everyone will have access; the people's grain will be safe and the Emperor will bestow handfuls of flowers upon every last one.

It's an instrumental track, and how many of those are on all 45 of Neil's albums? There's all of Dead Man, of course, but that's a soundtrack album. Side 2 of Neil Young opens with another instrumental, as well, one that he seemingly had absolutely nothing to do with. And I think that's it! Neil put this great track together, then never made music like this ever again. Wow.

But there's a back story of course: I think The Emperor of Wyoming is a sequel of sorts to a track Young didn't release, in his classic, mercurial fashion, for another 40+ years. Take a listen to Slowly Burning, recorded under the Buffalo Springfield moniker a year earlier. In actuality it's Young in the studio with session musicians, teaching himself how to make beauty.

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Next up on Neil Young is The Loner, and we start to hear the Neil Young we know. There's plenty of that menace I was talking about in the song's titular character: this guy is watching you, probably right now, and if you get off the train at your station alone, he'll know that you are.

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But Neil wasn't ready to unleash such menace sonically: every sense of the chaos he'd tapped into on Mr Soul a year and half earlier is immediately strangled off on The Longer, leaving room for full strings. Young was ready to sing about creeps. But he had not yet decided to sound like one.

The drums suck on this track; the guy responsible would go off and found the band Poco, together with the album's primary bass player, Jim Messina, who is the sole member of Buffalo Springfield that Young welcomed into this project (and Messina was barely a member of the band, only playing on their last record). My famous brother will probably soon tell me that Poco is a a big deal band I ought to get into. He's wrong; I know this even though I have never listened to a Poco record; I simply have intuited that they are un poco terrible.

But back to Buffalo Springfield. I debated starting this entire project with their first record. After all, that's the first thing Neil properly released. That record is great for a lot of reasons. For one thing, it demonstrates that Stephen Stills, at least for a moment, didn't suck. But Neil Young is where we're starting!

The most important hold-over from the Springfield era on this record is producer and pianist Jack Nitzsche, one of Neil Young's three outside producers. Nitzsche is a figure of significant folklore: he's like Phil Spector's mini-me: almost as prolific, almost as genius, almost as nuts. There'll be more to say about Jack on future Shakey Sundays. For now, suffice it to say that he was once arrested for chasing his, and Neil's, former lady friend, Carrie Snodgrass, around her home with a handgun. And then, years later, he and Snodgrass got back together.

Nitzsche seems responsible for much of the greatness within the very best song on Neil Young, The Old Laughing Lady. Every version Neil's ever done of the song is wonderful. He hypnotized himself and every one else present with his coffee house version, busked it incognito on an Amsterdam street corner, rewrote it almost entirely for his 76 acoustic tour, complete with train effects, and laid it down in isolated, after hours perfection during the credits of his otherwise dull concert film Heart of Gold. Next up I hope there's a children's choir involved, singing through his vocoder.

Neil Young's studio take of Old Laughing Lady is a masterpiece. Nitzsche's piano lines are subtle and deft; his production corrects the amateur flourishes that undercut the previous year's Broken Arrow: everything is dense and sparse at once, and the backing vocals, led by the incomparable Merry Clayton a year before she laid down some of the best vocals in any rock song ever on Gimme Shelter, are a surging, moaning pulse that's, once again, unlike anything else Neil would ever put on tape.

But arguably the best thing of all on the song is the bass line. Take a listen.

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That's not Jim Messina. It's Carole Kaye, the only female member of Phil Spector's studio band, later known as The Wrecking Crew. Light years ahead of her time, Kaye is responsible for a bunch of the best notes in all the 60's. She's the bass player on Pet Sounds and Smile; her playing there reset the entire way Paul McCartney played bass. She's on La Bamba, I Hear a Symphony and Love's Forever Changes, plus hundreds of other songs we all know from the late 50's and 60's.

So why don't we talk about her all the time? Sexism people, sexism. The poor woman was abused by her music teacher when she was 13 years old and wound up marrying him and having his child at age 16. Somehow she rose above this all and broke just about every barrier you can imagine in the studio. And good for her: she bailed on the whole hideous scene two years after playing on Neil Young. Now the internet is filled with sweet images of her like this one:

But why doesn't she play on all of Neil Young? After all, she was in the sessions a year earlier that produced Expecting to Fly and Slowly Burning.

I'm guessing that a) she was too expensive for Neil (she once claimed, without bravado, that she made more as a session musician than she would if she were President of the United States), and b) Neil was already realizing that he's happiest and most successful when surrounded by lesser musicians. No offense Jim Messina, but you didn't freak Neil out with your mad skills. Carole Kaye did.

Much of the rest of the album is filler, stuff Young wrote to flesh out the record and stuff he largely has not returned to since. But most of that filler is great.

Take I've Been Waiting For You. If you set aside Young's uptight, anodyne vocals and the fact that this song is little more than a chorus and a guitar riff, you'll discover that Neil was well on his way to Prince-like studio skills. He stacks up his own organ, piano and guitars atop drums that don't suck. The whole thing, even the unfunny Ha's! in the intro, swings.

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But we've got to end this first Shakey Sunday by taking note of the most important relationship Young began during the record. Indeed he says it was one of the most important relationships in his entire life. Supposedly, Neil was hitchhiking in Topanga Canyon at some point in 68 when a guy even crazier than him, David Briggs, picked him up. I guess we'll buy into that story and wonder if we would have stopped for Neil in 1968. Before you jump to any conclusions, remember what he looked like at that point.

I don't know about you, but I'd have left his ass on the side of the road.

Briggs had no real qualifications for producing Young or anyone else at the time. But he quickly supplanted both Nitzsche and Ry Cooder in the production booth and helped Neil make more than half of Neil Young. Briggs had exactly what Neil was looking for at the time, and he's still looking for it now: sublime amateurism, both from himself and from his contributors.

Maybe Briggs taught Neil how to run around the car screaming at red lights during their first drive together; maybe not. But either way, he made Neil happy, and he started to get him truly comfortable in front of a microphone for the first time.

Thank God they found one another. Yes, some of what they made on Neil Young is mediocre for Young, and the album's never-ending final track, Last Trip To Tulsa, is one of my least favorite Neil Young songs (except when the Stray Gators are tearing it into wonderful pieces), but most of the best things we'll talk about in these upcoming posts came from the partnership between Young and Briggs.

And so I hope you're out there right now with a similarly sweet partner of any kind, digging your Shakey Sunday.

#Youtube #neil young #shakey sundays #stephen stills still sucks #carole kaye #paul mccartney #the beach boys #david briggs #jack nitzsche

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fandomfiish · 2 years

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Some Dead Poets Society Ships HC

I say some because in the future I'll be posting separate headcanons for some ships, so here's some CHADD ‐ :)

ANDERPERRY ‐ They would go to the cave for private time: (Reading poems and when Welton gets truly suffocating they go there which the other poets do as well, occasionally their private time gets interrupted by Charlie usually in the company of Knox, sometimes Pitts and Meek would go there to work on some invention, and then Cameron when Charlie invites Knox to their room and they become a bit too much for him to focus on studying.) ‐ Todd would be the writer and Neil is the speaker, it's gotten somewhat normalized in Welton that even in other classes than Keating's the professors knew about their dynamic. Although none of them (except Keating) knew of their relationship yet. ‐ Todd always has some post-it notes of poems he found interesting to send to Neil every day, and Neil sends post-it notes of really really cheesy pickup lines that never fail to make Todd blush. KNARLIE ‐ Knox never fails to attend any rowing competition that Charlie is in, nor does Charlie fails to attend any Football competition Knox is in. ‐ If Anderperry has the Cave, Mitts has the rooftop, Knarlie has outside of Welton, the peaceful place beside the bridge it was always their place to go whenever they need an escape, since Knox always has the permission to go outside they take advantage of it. If ever outside was not available they always have Knox's room. ‐ Once there was an argument that went out of hand and Knox's punched Cameron in the face, which by the grace of gods none of them got in trouble with, but Charlie found out that the reason why he punched Cameron was that he was talking shit about Charlie, and have said the forbidden word. MITTS ‐ They've probably made a lot of inventions in their room and none would know except them. ‐ Usually, join the others in the study groups (With Meeks being the one initiating) but sometimes when they know the others will be busy they'll stay on the rooftop, just the two of them with the winds, and just gaze at the stars, one day dreaming they'll be able to arrive there themselves. A dream they'd love to make true. ‐ They made a robot dog, a prototype if you will. But it's one invention they can't show to the poets yet, not until they're sure it won't bite off Charlie's fingers when he inevitably puts it in its mouth. CARROT STICKS ‐ Due to the fact that Cameron never told them he's dating Sticks yet, the other poets would be less PDA whenever he's around, he's thankful of course, but he one day just said fuck it and went and grabbed Sticks and told them they're dating. "YOU SAID YOU WERE STRAIGHT!" "THAT'S JUST BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO SHUT UP DUMBASS" "CONGRATS MAN, HAPPY FOR YOU!" ‐ They're the scariest duo when it's Study groups, although Meeks and Pitts are the fun ones, Sticks and Cameron are the more "strict" ones, but the results of all of them passing with high grades prove to the others that fine they're alright with it. And Cameron looked really happy that Sticks is working well with the group. ‐ Sticks became an official member of the dead poets the night Cameron introduced him as his boyfriend, at the meeting in the cave. And boy was it chaotic, crazy but overall fulfilling. It was cathartic and with Cameron by his side, it just went even better. He wouldn't mind going to these meetings late at night if this is what it entails.

taglist: @inahallucination @aedan-mills @zeegy

#dead poets society #todd anderson #charlie dalton #neil perry #knox overstreet #richard cameron #steven meeks #gerard pitts #anderperry #knarlie #chadd #carrot sticks #mitts #sticks

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lemondemonpickuplines · 6 months

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Lemon Demon fans gotta talk about this more. it's almost, like, a creepypasta, dude. weird as fuck spoken-word. listen to it.

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#honestly there are so many videos on the NeilCicieregaMusic channel that I NEVER see ppl talk about #and they're fucking good dude.#tell you what. do yourself a favor and go listen to the Jocko Homo mashup.#go listen to all the songs on neilcic.com/mouthmisc actually. Don't is fucking art. so is Who. So is Vengablood. etc #neil cicierega #Youtube #also i meant to put this on my main blog whoops #not pickup lines

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insomniacwriter17 · 6 months

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Saved from the Flames - Chapter Twenty-Five

When you’re born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it’s not.” –Richard Kadrey

Billy Hargrove is 9 years old. He tries his best to be the son his father wants him to be - quiet, respectful, and obedient. But Neil just pushes harder and harder, all in the name of raising a “strong man”. When Billy is removed from his father’s custody and placed in foster care, it takes some time for him to realize his world is no longer burning around him. New experiences, new people, new opportunities all make Billy realize there’s a whole lot more to life than respect and responsibility.

AKA: The story of how Bob Newby became a real life superhero for one little boy who needed saving.

Inspired by this post I saw from @connordax

read on ao3

In the days following the sleepover, Bob was happy to note that Billy’s personality had come back in full force. It was like the confidence from successfully staying the night with his friends built him back up from where he had been recently with the news of his dad signing away his rights.

Ms. MacDonald opened the back door of Bob’s car at Friday afternoon pickup, smiling in greeting. “Hey there, Bob! How are you?”

“Can’t complain! How about yourself?”

“Good! Hey, Billy’s report card is in his backpack. Make sure to take a look at it and sign it and have him bring it back Monday,” she told him as Billy climbed into the car. “You guys have a good weekend, okay?”

“You too!” Bob and Billy echoed in unison. “Hey, kiddo, did you have a good day?” Bob continued while Billy buckled his seatbelt.

“Yeah! I almost beat Steve in a race today at recess!” Billy exclaimed, putting his backpack beside him on the seat.

Bob chuckled. “One day, you will. I believe in you, kid,” he laughed.

“Can we open my report card when we get home?” Billy asked. “We weren’t allowed to open them in class.”

Bob nodded. “Of course we can! We can look at it while you eat your snack.”

So as Billy munched on a bowl of grapes and some Goldfish crackers, Bob opened the manilla folder holding Billy’s report card. “Do you want to read it first, or do you want me to read it outloud?” Bob asked.

Thoughtfully munching on a cracker, Billy pulled his knees to his chest and pointed to Bob. “You can,” he said softly. The boy was curled up on the far end of the couch, looking over at Bob.

“You sure?” Bob waited for Billy to nod in confirmation, and then he pulled the folded paper out of the envelope to open it. His eyes did a preliminary glance of the words on the page, a smile beginning to curl at the edges of his mouth. “Well, Billy, this is something.”

“What?” Billy asked curiously, his eyebrows knitting together. He’d been doing better in school! He was there more often, first of all, and he’d been turning in all his homework!

“Math, A.” Bob raised an eyebrow at Billy and continued. “Science, A. Social Studies, A. Language Arts, A.” Bob watched as Billy’s shoulders straightened with each grade, and the boy began to smile. “PE, Art, and Music…all A’s. Straight A’s down the line, Billy! Look at that!”

Bob handed the report card over to Billy so he could see for himself, and Billy took it eagerly. “Really?!”

“Billy Hargrove – Grade four. Hawkins Elementary School. That’s you, isn’t it?” Bob smiled, and Billy nodded with a laugh.

Bob had seen the column beside this quarter’s grades that held the grades from the quarter prior – while he’d had A’s in Music, PE, and Art, his next highest grade had been a C in language arts. He’d had D’s in social studies and science, while math had been an F.

It made Bob think of each long evening they’d spent at the dining room table working on Billy’s math homework. How frustrated Billy would get at the equations, and how much patience Bob had to have in order to work through the problems with him.

It made his stomach churn to think that Billy had ever asked Neil for help – but the truth was, Billy probably just didn’t even try. Which, for as heartbreaking as a thought as that was, was the lesser of two evils. The safer option – which Billy was painfully good at picking.

“We should celebrate,” Bob commented, pushing the previous thought out of his head as quickly as possible. “Do you want to go out to dinner?”

Billy looked confused, cocking his head to the side. “But we’re supposed to be having meatloaf.”

Bob laughed, shaking his head. “Well, yeah, but this is exciting!” He points to the report card Billy’s holding. “This calls for an exciting dinner, and we can both agree meatloaf is not exciting.”

At Billy’s request, they ended up at Benny’s Diner, where Billy was happily eating a bacon cheeseburger and french fries. Bob had even let him get soda with dinner! Billy talked with Bob about the Hardy Boys book he was reading, and he listened eagerly as Bob told him all about the new radio being released at Radio Shack the next day. It was a fun evening that Billy hadn’t been expecting, and as the two of them walked back to the car to head home, Billy looked up and grabbed at Bob’s arm. “Mr. Bob?”

“Yeah, buddy?” Bob looked down at him curiously.

“I like living with you.” It wasn’t the first time Billy had made the statement, but just like every time Billy said it, Bob felt a sense of pride.

“I’m glad. I like having you with me,” Bob replied easily, smiling down at him. “What brought this on?”

Billy shrugged, hopping over a crack in the parking lot. “I just had fun tonight,” he told the man. “I didn’t get to do stuff like that when I lived with my dad.”

Bob smiled sadly at him, pulling the car keys out of his pocket. “You deserve to do fun things, Billy. And I’m so proud of you for your grades, dude! That’s awesome,” he complimented once more while unlocking the car.

Billy grinned widely up at him as he climbed into the backseat. “I worked hard,” he told Bob with pride evident in his voice.

“You did,” Bob agreed with a nod before climbing into the front seat. “You worked really hard and it shows.”

That night, after Billy was in bed and asleep, Bob sat on the couch and pulled the additional card out of the report card envelope that held written reports from Billy’s teachers.

Billy has really come out of his shell! He is participating in class, becoming more confident in his work, and is showing an increased interest in reading. Quarterly testing shows that Billy’s reading level has increased from a second-grade reading level to a fifth-grade reading level in a few short months. And his math skills have improved drastically! Keep up the great work. Billy is such a gem to have in class. - Mrs. MacDonald

Billy is one of the most well-behaved students I have. He’s an awesome student and I look forward to continuing to work with him. Billy is incredibly talented at finding and keeping rhythm in our music activities. In the last few weeks, Billy seems to have come out of his shell and it’s awesome to see. – Mr. Jack, Music

Billy’s such a sweet boy. His willingness to participate in assignments has increased significantly in the last quarter. He enjoys coloring and painting in class, but does not appear to much be a fan of working with clay, paper mache, or other more “messy” mediums. I’d love to see him open up a little bit more in the coming weeks! – Ms. Kathy, Art

Billy’s extremely athletically-inclined. He plays well with others and is quick to accept instruction from both peers and adults. He seems to very much enjoy the physical activity and is always one of the first to volunteer for activities or demonstrations. – Coach Evans, Physical Education

To read all the positive words about Billy’s academic performance brought tears to Bob’s eyes. Hearing that others were seeing the changes in Billy’s demeanor and that he was making improvements in class was the best feeling in the world.

Now if Bob could just hear back from the Department of Family Services about the adoption, that would be perfect. Gabby hadn’t had any updates recently except that home studies had been presented to the judge and were now being considered, which could take two days or two months. So far, it’d been about three weeks, and that was far too many in Bob’s opinion.

Everyone tried to be overly optimistic, to encourage Bob that this was just a formality, but there was the smallest seed of doubt that the judge would find a better family. One where Billy could have two parents, a sibling and a pet, and a white picket fence. Bob was a safe place to land, but he wasn’t positive the judge would think the Newby household would be the best place for Billy to live forever. He tried not to think about it too hard, but with each passing day, the doubt grew stronger.

It was a low-key weekend for both Bob and Billy – they spent Saturday morning at the park with Joyce, Jonathan, and Will, and then Sunday Bob did yard work while the weather was nice. Billy “helped” by supervising from the swingset. Bob didn’t mind one bit.

Monday came around and Bob got Billy off to school with no issues, and Bob made his way to Radio Shack. Cameron was working the opening shift with him this morning, and the two of them were resetting the store from the chaos that had been released over the weekend for that new radio.

Bob had volunteered to take the trash out while Cameron opened the front doors, and when he came back inside from the back door, Cameron was on the phone. “Yeah, he’s right here. Hold on a second.” The teenager held the phone out to Bob, who looked at it warily.

“It’s too early for someone to complain,” Bob sighed.

Cameron laughed. “Not a complaint…at least, I don’t think it is. It’s Gabby.”

Bob raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised. “Okay.” He reaches for the phone and gestures to his office, and Cameron nodded in understanding. “Morning, Gabby. You’re at it bright and early,”

“Morning, Bob.” Her voice had an amused lift to it, so Bob knew whatever she was calling about wasn’t awful. “Yeah, I had some pretty interesting files on my desk when I got into the office this morning. Wanted to get an early start on those, so here I am. You have a minute?”

“Of course,” Bob replied quickly, sitting down at his desk. “Did the judge give us an answer?” he asked hopefully.

Gabby sighed. “Not in so many words,” she said softly. “But what I’m about to tell you isn’t supposed to be shared, okay?” Bob gave a hum of acknowledgment, so Gabby continued. “The judge ruled out one of the adoptive homes and has sent some additional questions to the other family.”

Bob frowned. “None for me?” He couldn’t quite tell if it was disappointment or concern that was settling in his chest, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“Not for you,” she replied carefully. “They may have asked me to send some more documentation from my end, but I made sure your home study was bulletproof, Bob.That’s why they didn’t have any questions for you. But we’re getting closer.”

Bob sighed. “How much closer?” He didn’t mean for it to sound as pessimistic as it did, but even he could hear it in his voice that he hadn’t hidden it as well as he thought he had.

Gabby was quiet for a moment before she answered, “Close enough that the judge wants us to have a meeting: you, me, Billy, and Dr. Marcus. To make sure Billy understands what adoption means, and to make sure that Billy wants to stay with you as much as we want him to stay with you.”

Bob’s heart stopped for a moment, then beat wildly in his chest. “Wait, really?”

“Really.” Gabby’s grinning into the phone now; Bob can hear it. “Between you and me, the additional questions to the other family are just a formality so the judge can say he researched all options. But everyone’s in agreement: Billy should stay with you.”

“As long as Billy wants it,” Bob replied slowly. “Right?”

“Right. So you make that appointment and I’ll clear my schedule,” Gabby said. “Unless you want to wait until Thursday, of course.”

Bob was shaking his head already, laughing. “I absolutely don’t want to wait until Thursday,” he told Gabby. “Billy won’t do well with a surprise for today, but I’ll try to get on Dr. Marcus’s schedule for tomorrow afternoon if that works for you.”

“That sounds perfect,” Gabby agreed. “And Bob?” she called before the man could hang up.

“Yes?”

“I promise you, we’re almost at the end of this.”

At that, Bob smiled.

~~~~

That evening, Billy was helping Bob clean up the kitchen after dinner. They had eaten tacos and talked about moving Billy’s therapy appointment to tomorrow, and the conversation had gone a lot better than Bob had anticipated. So now, they were emptying the dishwasher and Billy was doing his nightly negotiation on how many chapters of Hardy Boys they would read tonight before Billy went to sleep.

Bob was wiping off the dining table, listening to Billy explain why they should read three chapters tonight, when there was the unmistakable sound of glass shattering behind Bob.

“Oops,” came Billy’s soft, fearful voice. Bob spun around to see that Billy was standing barefoot amongst what used to be a coffee mug, and the boy was looking up at Bob unsurely. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up!”

And then Billy was getting ready to kneel in the glass surrounding him, and Bob panicked. “Don’t move!” Bob shouted, holding his hand out toward Billy. “Don’t move,” he repeated, voice lower.

But the damage was done; Billy’s eyes were wide and tearful, all color leaving his face. “Billy, I’m sorry,” Bob said quickly, trying to keep his voice low and level. “I don’t want you to move because I don’t want you to cut yourself on all that glass.”

“I didn’t mean to drop it,” Billy whimpered, tears welling in his eyes. His hands twisted together in front of him nervously. His heart was pounding in his chest and he had the urge to run, to hide, to get away.

Bob was walking toward Billy, and the boy could tell he was saying something, but his ears were ringing too hard to hear what was being said. He just watched with wide, fearful eyes.

It broke Bob’s heart, but he stepped closer to the frozen boy, softly saying, “I’m going to pick you up and get you away from the glass, okay?” he called softly, broken glass crunching beneath his sneakers. Bob picked up the boy under his arms and carried him out of the kitchen, placing him on the living room carpet.

He was not at all surprised when Billy took off down the hall the moment his feet touched the ground. It took every ounce of Bob’s self-control to not follow after Billy immediately, but he figured it would be good to give Billy some time to decompress. So instead, he made his way back to the kitchen to clean up all the shattered glass.

It took a few minutes to make sure all shards of broken glass were cleaned up, and then Bob went in search of Billy. He didn’t find the child in his room, but then Bob heard the tell-tale sniffling coming from his office. “Billy?” Bob called gently as he entered the room, and he could see where Billy was huddled beneath Bob’s desk.

Moving slowly, Bob crouched close enough to offer comfort if it was wanted, but far enough away to give Billy space. “Hey, look at me.” Bob’s voice was just above a whisper. Billy didn’t look up, he continued staring at his feet as he huddled beneath the desk. “I’m so sorry I scared you, buddy.”

The boy looked so tiny, folding in on himself like he was trying to disappear. “I’m not mad at you at all. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Billy’s shoulders shuddered as he took in hitched breaths, cries catching in his throat. “It w-was an accident, I p-promise!”

“I know, pal. I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” Bob promised softly. “Sometimes things just happen. Accidents happen. You don’t always mean for things to happen the way they do. That’s just part of life.”

But Billy still didn’t look up, still staring at his feet like they held all the answers. “You don’t have to be perfect, Billy. You are young and you are learning. That’s all.” Bob stopped, watching as Billy finally peeked up above his knees. Billy didn’t answer verbally, but his eyebrows raised like he didn’t quite believe Bob.

“You’re still a kid, Billy. Your job is to learn and to grow. It’s a grown-up’s job to teach you. Your dad wasn’t doing a good job of that – that is not your fault. That’s why Ms. Gabby put you here, with me. So that we can learn stuff together.” Billy slowly lifted his head, and now his chin was resting on his knees. “And even sometimes I’m going to mess it up. Like tonight.”

Bob reached forward with a gentle hand to wipe at the tears on Billy’s cheek. “You are young and you are learning how to live.” He nodded to further drive the point home, and Billy’s chin trembled. “I want you to understand that. Can you say it for me?” When Billy didn’t offer anything right away, Bob moved so that he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, holding his hands out to Billy.

The boy cautiously lowered his knees from his chest, holding one hand out to Bob. Bob squeezed the tiny hand in his own, smiling sadly. “I want you to say it for me, okay? Say I am young…”

Billy sniffled. “I am young?”

Bob nodded reassuringly. “And I am learning how to live.”

Billy’s hand was shaking in Bob’s as he whispered, “And I am…” He swallowed thickly. “I am learning how to live.”

“Good,” Bob praised, nodding. “Say it again.”

Billy sniffled and dragged his free hand across his nose to get rid of the snot before he whispered, a bit louder, “I am young.”

Bob nodded, smiling. “And I am learning how to live.”

“And I’m learning how to live.” The smallest of smiles began to creep onto Billy’s face, and Bob grinned right back, shaking Billy’s hand in his.

“There it is!” Bob exclaimed happily. “One more time. All together for me. Ready?”

Tears still sparkled in his eyes, falling down his cheeks as the full smile broke out onto Billy’s face. “I am young and I am learning how to live.”

“That’s my boy!” Bob cheered, holding up his other hand for a high-five. My boy. It slipped out of his mouth before he could realize it. But Billy just giggled, high-fiving Bob right back before he crawled forward to pull himself out from under the desk, instead climbing into Bob’s lap and hugging him tight.

It made Bob’s throat tight with emotion as he hugged Billy back just as hard. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo.”

“Even when I mess up?” Billy asked, the words whispered into Bob’s shoulder.

“Even when you mess up,” Bob promised, pulling away to look at Billy’s face. “Because everyone messes up. And I know I’ve said it a lot, but I’m sorry I yelled at you. I got scared and I didn’t respond well, but that doesn’t make it okay.”

“It’s okay,” Billy replied quietly, moving so he snuggled up to the man again. “I know it was an accident.”

They sat there on the floor for a moment, Bob hugging Billy tight to his chest while tiny arms wrapped around his neck. “Should we get you into bed?” Bob asked quietly, and he felt Billy nod against his shoulder.

“Can I have three chapters?” the boy asked hopefully, and Bob let out a laugh.

“Yes,” he relented with a grin, hoping this would calm the last of Billy’s fears. “Three chapters of Hardy Boys, coming right up.”

#stranger things #billy hargrove #ao3 #insomniacwriter17 #fandom #bob newby #bob newby deserved better #billy hargrove deserved better #sftf #cw: child abuse #foster care au

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milfzatannaz · 7 months

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YOUR friendgirl sends you paltry gifts whereas MY friendgirl sends me a bouquet of Neil’s and a lightning McQueen pickup line ‼️‼️‼️ you guys wish you were us ‼️‼️‼️

#Lizzie

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shuchu · 1 year

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here are my live reactions compiled into one post because i don't wanna spam y'all (bruh tumblr keeps putting a community label on this post even tho it's barely nsfw lmfao but anyways, just for tumblr: NSFW, MINORS DNI)

luca

AYO LUCA????? THIS MUSIC IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS- maybe i'm just horny

the live voice acting tho??? he's so cute

omg i think their outfits are based on how they were before they got isekai-ed, the person on twitter was right !!!!

LUCA LAUGHING AT HIS LINES IN THE VISUAL NOVEL? LORE? THIS MAN 💀

AYO SHOWING OFF HIS MUSCLES???? OKAY THIS DESCRIPTION...i think i'm gonna lose my mind when i actually see it

awww baby's nervous, he's so cute

hand reveal? lmao- OKAY RINGS WTF NEW NECKLACE JUST DROPPED, CHOKE ME

HIS JACKET???? LOOKS STYLISH AS HELL SHEEEESH

okay ngl i love the outfit so far, it's only half body rn

mans really said, "you haven't even seen me take it off yet." WTF LUCA???

I'M STARING DISRESPECTFULLY- MAN TIDDIESSSSSSS LEMME AT EM BOOBA STRAP LESSGOOOO

HE HAS A CHOKER AND A GOLD NECKLACE WHAT THE FUCK I'M GOING FERAL- THE UNHOLY THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD RIGHT NOW SNAJXJSBJX

FANGIES????? hana has fainted

OMG PIERCINGS???? THE SUNGLASSES. STOP- where can i get myself a luca kaneshiro?

HE TOOK THE JACKET OFF?? PUT ME IN A CHOKE HOLD WITH THOSE ARMS PLEASE

OFF THE SHOULDER??? AND FOREHEAD KISS???

NEW OVERLAY???? it fits the vibes of his new outfit so well and new alerts?? poooooogggg

NEIL *shakes fist*

imma have luca brainrot now- imma die i love his new outfit

shu

HOLY SHIT MY SHUEY SHU I'M SO EXCITED

his outfit looks so detailed i can't

omg his handmade lore vid THIS MAN HAHAHA

"oh wait i'm supposed to be an adult now" *elongated self* I CANT WITH THIS MANS

THE ZOOM IN HAHAHAH NOT THE LMAO. THIS IS WHY THIS MAN IS MY OSHI LMAOOOO

THE POOP HAHAHAH

"STOP TYPING LMAO" LMAO I CANT HAHAHAH THE FUCKING BANANA

"shirtless? will that get me views? will that get my son views on youtube?" THE ZOOM IN ON THE MOM I'M FUCKING DYING I LOVE MY OSHI

"coincidentally there's a random man wearing this" I'M DYING

SHU'S LAUGH HE'S SO CUTE

THE SHADOW???? DUDE I'M SIMPING ALREADY

he has beads in his hand?

NOT THE POOP SHAPED REVEAL SASUGA MY OSHI

HAND REVEAL??? HE HAS GLOVES? WAIT WHAT'S THAT??

OMG HE HAS A MARK ON HIS FOREHEAD AND HIS BANANAAAAAA

WHOAAAAA HE LOOKS SO ROYAL, REGAL, FORMAL WHAT THE HECK

YO I LOVE HIS FIT it's so intricate and detailed

feet? for free? 👀 yamitoes ehe

the bone bois!!!

his outfit is probably the most complicated of all luxiem boys, vox might be a close second tho

HE CAN PUT HIS ARM DOWN BRO WHAT THE FUCK FINALLY LMFAOAOAOAO

HE CAN TAKE THE OUTER LAYER OFF??? he's so pretty, pretty boi <33

"the lashes stay tho, slay" HAHAHAH

NEW TRANSITION AND OVERLAY??? LESSGOOOO

like vox said: more of this please-

he's perfect, couldn't possibly stan my oshi any more than i already do

mysta

meeeeestaaaaa bb

what is this starting screen 🧍🏻‍♀️

lmao mysta rp asmr? ayo? OMEGALUL

this man...

HE WRAPPED HIMSELF UP HAHAHAH WHAT THE FUCK

NOT THE LIP EMOJI HAHAHAH I'M DYING

"i'm all bondaged up" okay mysta

"i found out a fetish that i didn't even know i had" mystaaaaaa HAHAHAH

THE BROTHERS AND THEIR MEMES I FUCKING CANT

this goofy ah man

he's got a briefcase, we been knew

"hand. tee es kay ar" LMFAO

not him wanting to swing the briefcase against someone's head 💀💀

"surface level dps" 💀

not the briefcase pickup line, this man...

he has a scarf, pien 🥺

"i still got the sex gloves" lmaoo

UKI'S NOTIFICATION ON TWITTER GOT ME CACKLING: "oh shit merry christmas" LMFAO

his outfit looks so comfy ue

HE HAS A MONOCLE (i think that's what it's called) ???

THE LITTLE BERET???

MINI PONYTAILLLLLLL

no hat no glasses, pien 🥺 he's so baby

new earrings too <33

"you guys wanna see me take off my clothes now?" i-

omg without the outer layers??? why does he look like such a good boy 💀

i love the layered necklaces tho!!!

he has such a tiny waist wtf what a slut

OMG HE CAN PUT HIS ARM DOWN TOO

i wanna give him a hug 🥺

THE OUTRO MUSIC UEUEUE

vox

voxyyyyy

this is so calming?

sasuga voxy, the production quality. GOD

shu and sonny VA!!! is the other one kotoka? meloco? kotoka for sure after watching more

TSKR JAPANESE

ONIGIRIIIIII

omg new overlay?

"oh my god. BALLS." sasuga vox

his nails are so long sheesh

"you know i keep that mf-ing thang on me" this guy lmaooo

OH HE'S ACTUALLY GOT HIS BOOBA OUT

ayo new eye makeup? pog

YOO he actually looks like a demon now jesus

yoooo black and gold horns!!!!

ponytail vox sheesh

ngl, i think this is my second fav outfit, i'm a sucker for intricate and detailed outfits

ike

PLAID GANG

HEELS STEP ON ME IKEY

such a comfy outfit ueue

the turtleneck eeee

not the steve jobs from vox on twitter lmao

OMG THE EYEBROW PIERCING AND THE BERET

eeee he's comfy boi

ikey wikey ;w; he's so precious help

omg he can write in his book now!!!

his outfit is so lowkey which is not a bad thing !!! i love!!!

THE WINKKKKKK IKEY STOP

new intro and more stuff coming?? AAAA

HE HAS MORE???? king of jebait for real

OMG HE'S GOT A SURPRISE FOR US

aaawww his new starting screen with hints to the previous ones aaa i love that 🥺

i love all their new outfits, i love that for ike and mysta it's peak comfy vibes, luca looks really handsome in his and vox and shu it's just so regal and detailed ugh i love, i stan

i can't stop looking at shu

#hana rambles ♡#luxiem new outfits AAAA #WHAT DO YALL THINK #luxiem #nijisanji en

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