Off the edge
For the Fall of Neil Hargrove, day 2 prompt; "The Camaro"
~~~
The car is an object; not living per se
But sentient, maybe, perhaps, in a way
She knows her boy’s touch from the many repairs
Knows that he loves her, and knows that he cares
He fixes her ailments and fills her with gas
Washes her paint job and polishes glass
Until they sparkle, until they gleam
Together, they make such a glorious team
He’s a good driver, she’s a good car
Together, they’re great; they go fast, they go far
She doesn’t know feelings like hate and thereof
But loves him, as much as a car can feel love
Some nights, he is hurting inside her, she knows
His driving is reckless and angry, it shows
On some nights he screams, on others he weeps
Sometimes, he curls up on the backseat and sleeps
One night, he is shoved to the driver’s side door
And held there, and screamed at, then shoved to the floor
Another man enters her, sits in the seat
And backs her away from her boy, to the street
The man drives her off, he is angry and strong
His grip is abrasive, he drives her all wrong
She knows; this is he who has caused her boy’s pain
She knows; she will not let him do it again
So she speeds up, though the man tries to brake
She turns on her own, and she drives to the lake
She knows these roads well, and she knows where she’s going
He tries the handbrake, but she is not slowing
Right up ahead, there’s a turn in the road
They’ll crash, and they’ll drown, and they’ll sink and corrode
She speeds through the fence and then they’re in the air
The man in her seat screams, but she doesn’t care
She is an object; not living per se
But sentient, kind of, somehow, in a way
She doesn’t know feelings, but maybe it’s glee?
She feels as she dies, and her boy is set free
~~~
@fallofneilhargrove
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Some of you have the worst Stranger Things brain rot that you’ll praise The Duffers for “dealing with” racism in Stranger Things while consistently ignoring how much they underrepresent, tokenize, and exploit characters of color and their actors for their own material gain before dropping them altogether. Then when you can’t cope with the reality that they treat their actors of color like garbage and that Stranger Things is not the underdog utopia for marginalized people you think it is, you turn to your comfort blanket (blaming fans of a character who has been dead for years) instead of facing the reality of the situation. Stranger Things was always bad at this. Billy fans aren’t the reason why it’s bad at this. If anything, Billy fans have been arguing for years about how bad Stranger Things is at this given they chose to use a clearly traumatized and abused teenager to be their token racist so they wouldn’t have to deal with the systemic implications of racism in Hawkins. Wake up.
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As much as I accept the truth of Stiles being Eli's other parent, it is equally hilarious to imagine Eli being utterly fucking baffled by this weird, Polish-speaking, smartassed, magic-using, maybe FBI agent(?) showing up out of fucking nowhere and his dad, his perpetually single, notoriously gameless, still-gets-embarrassed-when-the-checkout-lady-winks-at-him loser (affectionate) dad, starts fucking flirting with him. And the maybe-wizard-maybe-serial-killer flirts back??? Hello???
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Something's wrong with Billy.
Clearly wrong.
He's been holding something back for days, maybe even weeks. Who knows how long?
Steve can tell, though. Billy's cranky and standoffish by default, but he's been more distant than usual.
Billy had a big appetite for sex. With Steve's long hours, he could hardly keep up. They normally had sex every single night, but lately, all Billy wanted to do was cuddle in bed and fall asleep on Steve's chest. Which was fine, but they hadn't had any sex in nearly a month.
That was when Steve knew something was wrong. He wasn't sure how to bring it up. He did all he could to keep comforting Billy, loving him, caring for him each and everyday, but...still...Billy just wasn't himself, and it wasn’t getting any better.
"Baby." Steve softly muttered, caressing Billy's back. "Baby?"
"Hm?"
"We haven't uh...fooled around in awhile. Too tired lately?"
"You can have me anytime, Steve." Billy reached into Steve's shorts, and Steve moved his hand.
"What'd you do that for? I thought you wanted to—"
"I do—but I'm more interested in you and how you're doing."
"I'm fine. Just tired." Billy rested his head on Steve's chest.
"That all? It's just...you've changed. You used to have so much fun, and we had wild sex every night—"
"So is that it?” Billy questioned. “I'm boring you? Gonna find somebody else?"
"What?” Steve emphatically shook his head. “N-no! I could never replace you. I just...you're different, and it makes me worry. Makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong."
Billy laughed. "Don't be stupid. You're fuckin' perfect."
"So what's wrong, then?"
"It's just...it's like you said. We were having so much fun when we first got together. We'd sneak around, we'd party, get drunk, and everyday was like a fucking movie with you."
"Yeah. We had a lot of fun over the past year." Steve chuckled. "So what's the matter? Is this not fun anymore?"
"No. It's not all fun like before. I'm used to getting a thrill all the time but...when things started to calm down, you weren't just looking for fun. You were loving me, taking care of me, letting me go to school while you work. You told me you believe in me."
"And I meant that! What’s the problem?"
"That is the problem! I've never had that before. I don't—I don't know what else to offer you."
"Offer me?"
"...I don't know how to be anything but a good time. I don't know how to be anything but the life of the party. I don't know how to give you...what you give me."
Steve sighed, his hand wandering into Billy's curls. "Do you remember 2 months ago when I got food poisoning from that shitty food at the diner?"
"Yeah, you were puking your guts out for 2 days."
"And you took care of me. Made me some soup your mom used to make, a-and you even cut some tortillas into little chips with a pizza cutter. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"So?"
"So? That's what I want, Billy. You're there when I need you. For more than sex, more than a party. I can count on you to always be there, without fail. I never have a single doubt about your love for me."
"Because I love you a lot. I love the shit outta you."
"And I love the shit outta you too. So don't worry about this anymore, alright? We're good. Whether there's a party, or we're just lying in bed."
Billy let out the biggest sigh, loosening his shoulders and releasing all of his burdens. "Still feel like…fooling around?" He asked, playfully mocking Steve’s words.
"You kidding? My dick's standing at attention as we speak. You're so hot when you talk to me about your feelings."
Billy laughed as he rolled on top of Steve. "You're so fucking stupid, y'know that? How'd I get so lucky?"
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