#Neil spends a LOT of time thinking about how to use his words and how to say things.
Text
contemplating the conversation Neil and Andrew (and Renee) have in the locker room at the beginning of The King's Men.
"I've never understood why he likes knives"
Such simple words should not have gotten the reaction they did. Andrew went still and looked up, but he didn't look at Neil. He looked at Renee, so Neil did too. She'd stopped mid-sentence to stare at Neil, but the Renee studying him wasn't the Foxes redeemed optimist. Her sweet smile was gone and the too-blank look on her face reminded Neil of Andrew. Neil instinctively tensed for flight-or-flight. Before his body figured out what to do, Renee shifted her inscrutable gaze to Andrew.
They stared each other down, soundless and still, oblivious to the bewildered looks their teammates sent between them. (pg. 34)
And comparing it to Son Nefes (Extra Content)
"You could have chosen a weapon you were more comfortable with," Renee said.
"It made sense at the time to pick it up," Andrew said with an expansive shrug. "He liked knives, and I like beating people at their own game."
and
"Do you know why I learned to fight with knives?" Renee asked. [..........]"He was older than me, and bigger than me, and stronger than me, so I had to find a way to fight him. He liked knives," she said, and Andrew flicked her a quick look she couldn't decipher, "so I decided to use them against him. I wanted to beat him at his own game, too."
ANYWAYS. I just thought I'd put all that in one single place because :))))
Especially since in TRK, when Neil and Renee talk, she says "But if you are as like us as we first predicted you to be, perhaps one day you can also come to see me as a friend."
Also the general fact that, there is a certain sense of... interest to me, I guess in the fact that Neil was purposely vague in hopes that everyone in the room would think he was speaking of Riko, when really he was talking about his father, who's his own monster from his past, and comparably made the two of them think of their own. Renee confirms this later to him(when she offers to teach him to wield knives), and Neil actually wonders about Andrew in that conversation as well.
#my posts#I spend a lot of time thinking about whether or not Andrew really thought that he was talking about Riko.#simply because Andrew knows about his scars (he hasn't seen them yet here but)#and honestly I'm not even sure that NEIL wanted Andrew to think it was about Riko.#I am at least 80% under the impression he only wanted his other teammates to think that. Otherwise why say anything at all?#Neil spends a LOT of time thinking about how to use his words and how to say things.#I also think it's interesting that Andrew and Renee both chose to learn knife skills in SPITE of their trauma#whereas Neil would (probably literally) rather die than be like his father#kinda ends up going back to that whole fight/flight thing in that context.#anyways this was worded badly but eh (by badly I mean 'barely at all' because it's 90% just quotes)#I'm tired#as a side note I have mixed feelings about the EC but I do like Son Nefes#actually I like almost all the EC that refers to their backstories rather than things that happen post canon#but anyway that's a different post for a different day#aftg#Neil Josten#Renee Walker#Andrew Minyard#Son Nefes#all for the game#the foxhole court#also im sure someone else has made this post already but 🤷🏼♀️🤷🏼♀️🤷🏼♀️
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..
Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?
Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.
As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.
That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.
Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.
I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"
But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.
It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!
And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.
And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.
idk it just makes me feel things ok
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I’m awake again and something that really stood out to me with TSC was how different jean and neil are as protagonists. I expected they would be, but the thing I really noticed was how distinct their reactions were.
So, these books are HEAVY. There are many many traumatic events and the characters spend a lot of time in high-stress situations. Even when they’re not being attacked or threatened or XYZ, they’re often in a state of heightened physiological arousal (their sympathetic nervous system is going haywire). As a psychologist, the thing I find really interesting is that we see very different reactions that are all aligned with different adrenal responses, and I wanted to talk about it.
As a baseline, when your sympathetic nervous system is activated, you typically experience what some psychologists call the four Fs. Fight, flight, freeze, and/or fawn (some people use another word here but I don’t like it and think it’s less accurate to the situation). These can occur simultaneously or alone. And of the four characters who are most showing this response are the ones who are consistently in the highest stress situations, but who are also traumatised in such a way that even when they’re not actively in danger their sympathetic nervous system is overreactive and heightened.
So first off, we have Neil. He’s pretty clearly shown to have two responses: flight and fight. For his entire childhood, he’s been fleeing from danger and in the earlier parts of AFTG, we see this response - he tries to run as far as he can possibly get from anything that might be a risk. As a side point, this is pretty clearly a learned response from his mother. As Neil begins to feel more secure and his flight response is impeded (he can’t run away) we see the emergence of his other primary adrenal response - fight. I don’t feel like I need to explain this one, tbh, we’ve all seen how he runs his mouth. Fight is also typically shown when you believe you can defeat whatever’s threatening you, so I love what this says about how his confidence develops across the trilogy.
Then you have Andrew. He’s not a POV protagonist but I feel like his response might be the most obvious. His primary responses are fight and freeze (Andrew Minyard runs from/fawns for no man). Fight is pretty obvious - he’s a very violent person - but I feel like the most clear example of this is stopping Riko from attacking Neil. Andrew is obviously wired and his instinctive response is to protect. I love that for him. His other primary response, unfortunately, is freeze. Based on the most obvious time we see it (during Drake's attack), this is probably a response he developed as a child, before he felt strong/safe enough to fight back. God, these books make me sad sometimes.
Next is Kevin. He has a slightly more varied response - i can see the argument for him freezing, although i wouldnt say it's a primary response - but his main two responses are fight and fawn. Fight isn't necessarily literal, btw - the most obvious example is covering his tattoo. His fawn response is slightly more expanded on in TSC (mild spoilers if you haven't read that yet) when we see him responding to Riko's attack by begging first Riko and then Jean to intercede and stop the violence. he's trying to appeal to their affection for him, which is absolutely heartbreaking. Kevin i love you.
And finally, we have Jean, whose primary responses are only really made clear in TSC, although they are backed up by his appearances in the trilogy - freeze and fawn. We see freezing in Jean's response to sympathetic nervous system arousal, often from hearing about or recalling upsetting events/information. He closes in on himself and becomes unresponsive. Fawn is slightly more complicated, as we see it somewhat throughout AFTG. when he's loyal to riko and doing things he thinks riko will like in hopes of reducing any potential pain/threat he will experience, i'd call that fawning. an example at usc is him getting on his knees and handing coach rhemann his racket - he's not just submitting to punishment, he's trying to be helpful and well-behaved in hopes of lessening it. it's honestly a really strong response from him and it absolutely breaks my heart. jean in tsc is really struggling and i hope the last book brings him some peace. i also find it really painful that he's the only one of these boys without a fight response - he's never felt capable of winning against his abusers. i really hope the trojans and bee are able to help change that.
#tsc meta#tsc#tsc spoilers#the sunshine court#the sunshine court spoilers#aftg meta#aftg spoilers#neil josten#andrew minyard#kevin day#jean moreau#sky (the blogger) originals
329 notes
·
View notes
Text
I want to clarify something about my Lawyer!Andrew post:
Andrew is not doing this to impress people. In fact he actively doesn't want to impress people. He is done being a superman who holds everyone's lives in his hands. It's not good for his mental health when he's doing it and it's not good for anyone when that he fails, because the law is too big and some of these fuckers are just legitimately dumber and more guilty than his literal murderous mafia husband.
Anyways. Andrew wakes up in the morning, goes to his closet and shoves aside the 15k dollar Armani suits so he can put on the two piece he got at Macy's (then tailored to fit, cause he still has standards), and a matching tie.
He goes to the office. Brad asks him if he heard about the latest draft picks. Andrew stares him down until Brad goes to Andrew's desk and drops a quarter in the "Asking Andrew about Exy" jar. Andrew's coworkers seem to think that he's gonna buy the office a Foosball table with the jar money. They are wrong. It is for a new cat tower. Also, no Andrew hasn't seen it, but he got the rundown from Neil and Kevin, so he knows enough to tell Brad not to bother with a season pass for the Sealions this year.
He has two cases to deal with today. The first is a vehicular manslaughter charge. The client is pleading self defense, and that the victim was a stalker. Andrew likes her because, despite bursting into tears every time they have a trial prep session, she actually listens to instructions and knows when to shut the fuck up. He's confident.
The second is grand larceny. The guy is so super incredibly guilty but Brad gave him this case because he knows Andrew loves police misconduct cases and this one is just so full of protocol breaches that Andrew only had to show Neil the file for him to burst out laughing.
Janet says he has a call waiting. Janet is the highest paid paralegal in the county, because she also filters his celebrity mail. Technically Neil's pr firm still represents him, but Janet knows to turn down the DA's gala invitations without needing to argue with him.
He picks up the phone. It's the DA. The man invites him to the police gala because he knows Andrew ignored the emails. Andrew assumes the man was banking on Andrew giving a polite refusal he can wheedle or harangue into compliance. The man is new to the job, so Andrew will forgive this embarrassing miscalculation.
They spend the next hour discussing court dates for a certain case. Andrew's client for that one is disabled and only has partial aid, and he won't let them set court dates that they know she won't be able to attend. The DA, despite his embarrassing naivate, seems to be on the same page in this regard, so hopefully this will go well when they bring the matter to the judge.
In the span of this phone call, two of Brad's clients come into the office, and within five minutes of walking in are made to contribute to the jar. They don't get their questions answered, because he's on the phone, and they're not Brad.
He has court tomorrow. Court is annoying, because it's a room full of strangers who hear his name and forget why he's there, and he's not allowed to bring the jar. Court is a chore, because he has to walk people through their own idiocy, and then occasionally convince the room of just how stupid or brilliant it actually was.
Court is also, maybe, just a teensy bit fun, because whatever the stereotype of a lawyer is, Andrew really isn't it, and that makes people take him a lot less seriously until he starts quoting their words back to them faster than the stenographer.
(Janet also filters job offers. They tend to crop up every few months.)
(It used to be more fun, back in the early days when Neil would sit in sometimes, until he remembered just how horrifically boring the whole thing is. But that's fine. Andrew is happy having his own thing.)
But really, court is easy. It's a place where your word has weight, where promises are binding, and when everything is going to shit, nobody looks at Andrew like he's the freak for keeping his head.
775 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓮, 𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓸𝓽?
◇ Pairing: Neil Lewis X best friend!Reader
◇ Warnings: fluff, sadness, mean parents, Neil's made up childhood, friends to lovers, kiss, tuna
◇ Summary: Neil has to bring his girlfriend to the Christmas dinner with his family, the problem?... He doesn't have one so he asks his best friend.
◇ Note: Another amazing collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989. First fic of the new "event" 'From love to Love'.
Neil froze hearing his mother's words over the phone. His eyes widened in shock while Y/n walked in front of him, peacefully sorting out movies while humming. Unaware that her best friend was just going through a hurricane of thoughts at the ridiculous demand of his mother.
You take her or don't bother to come, she said, and after not getting any response for a couple seconds, she hung up with a sigh of annoyance. He knew how his mother was but usually… he didn't care too much. Usually the whole family would just pick on him “playfully” because of the fact that he was still single, just running his store for a living. Suddenly breathing got heavier and the humiliation set in, as he sighed moving quickly. Passing by Y/n, he rushed to his office, in need of a moment to deal with his own feelings.
“I can’t” were the first words that left Neil’s mouth since the call ended, it was crazy and dangerous and he was pretty much regretting having picked up the phone that morning, he would have lived better without knowing those annoying news.
He had to go back “home” for Christmas… back to his childhood house more like, as he never truly felt there like home. After a couple of years now going there just to spend Christmas all together like they used to do. A fucking nightmare. How could he survive, he thought, his hands covering his face in pure desperation, so worried and pissed to go there… he was off age, why couldn’t he do what he wanted?
That’s how his colleague and friend found him, leaned on his desk, at the edge of crying.
”Man, I'm just trying to help.” Jonathan shrugged, after he came quickly to the Gumshoe right after Y/n’s shift ended, passing by her at the door with a smile. Neil huffed with helplessness. He knew that his friends just wanted to help him with the issue, but nevertheless it was.. more than frustrating. Pacing back and forth he stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, thinking intensely. Looking… for a solution that wouldn't require making himself look like a fool in front of his best friend.
“And how the fuck am I supposed to ask her, huh? Not that I intend to.” Neil hissed, gesticulating in desperation “I can’t do that! Especially not to her, I have been stuck celebrating all those awful events, forced by my parents… She would come willingly. That would be—” Jonathan interrupted him quickly, shaking his head “Man, calm down! we don’t even know if she can, I’m just telling you that you should try. You always say that everything is way more fun when she’s around so why not try to fight this by using her..help, huh?” the man suggested, proud of himself as he waited for Neil’s reaction “she even likes to dress up and trust me, bet she would be way happier to come with you there than to participate at another of the events here in the show” he commented quietly.
”How can you know that?” Neil snapped, as he registered only the first part of the sentence, his mind jumping to the conclusion that Jonathan was spending a lot of time with her. Jealousy racing through his veins in a second.
Seeing it, Jonathan rolled his eyes at the reaction.
”Yeah, and maybe.. maybe you two could sort that weird… “friendship” out.” He suggested, gesturing in the air as he spoke. ”No need to get snappy, man. She seems to like only one geek, and you already took that spot.” He joked eventually, wanting to ease the atmosphere. It worked, as Neil smiled weakly.
It was true, they were friends ever since Neil approached her in the third grade asking about the sandwich she had. For her the tuna sandwich was the grossest thing in the world, but little Neil had shiny eyes at the thought of it. She called him gross and he pushed her. That's how their friendship started, ironically.
She sure was perfect and that way Neil wouldn’t have ruined their every-year plans.. Christmas Eve together and a quick meeting at Christmas, like always. They could spend even more time together if she agreed to go with him.
Huffing, he sat down in the armchair as he ran his hand through his dark hair. Was it really a good idea? he wondered silently, glancing a couple of times towards Jonathan, who was still standing there awkwardly. Even if she wasn’t in the store anymore, he should have called or gone to her apartment but… he couldn’t leave Gumshoe, right?
He remained lost in his thoughts for a couple of minutes, coming back to reality hearing a soft knock on his office door. His baby blue eyes snapped up as he sat better on his chair, surprised to see Y/n back there, a smile on her face. “Sorry to interrupt the …meeting, I just left my scarf in your office Neil, so I came back to get it. It’s pretty cold outside, I was freezing…” she revealed continuing to ramble while walking to the small sofa in his office, grabbing her scarf before heading back to the door. Neil was forced now to ask her, it looked really like faith.
“Weenie—” he spoke abruptly, making her stop mid step, and turn around to face him with a raised eyebrow, the nickname catching her attention immediately like every time, just like the way he said it. Instead of the casual, easygoing tone of his, he sounded.. nervous and awkward. The tone that Y/n knew too well, which piqued her interest just as much as the old nickname that they have been using for several years. “What, dink?” she asked with a soft smile on her face. Jonathan just staring at them with wide eyes and toothy grin, seeing how the stare they shared couldn’t be one of just friends.
Neil looked at his feet awkwardly, not knowing how to start.
”Yeah, tell her, Dink.” Jonathan mocked playfully, earning a soft slap on the back of his head from Y/n, who scolded him and reminded him that she was the only one that could call Neil like that and he should have respect for his own boss. One stern glance from Neil was enough to make him lift his hands in surrender.
”Alright, alright. I got the message.” He said, slowly heading to the door.
Just before the door closed shut, he shot Neil one last look that was basically saying “tell her, idiot!”
A sigh pushed past the nervous man's lips as he was left alone with his best friend in the office. Neil had no energy and will to play around the topic, so he just took a deep breath approaching her closer.
”Look… if I had any different choice, I wouldn't… I wouldn't try to pull you into it..” He started off, sitting on the desk in front of her, looking down at his hands, making her quite nervous. But without a second thought she lifted his chin with her hand, making him look in her eyes.
”You can pull me into anything as long as you follow, you know that— Stop being so nervous, now, I’m starting to fear that it’s something big and concerning” She urged, feeling that something wasn't right… not with how he was trying to avoid eye contact with her.
”Are you involved with the mafia, Dink?” She held back a giggle, using her best poor Italian accent to try to ease the tension and his mood, successfully as he giggled back.
“Are you trying to perform as Robert De Niro, now?” he huffed amused “You are still doing it wrong” Neil added, commenting on her performance “Lies, you’re just jealous of my skills. Bet someone could actually mistake me for him, bit of makeup and I look just like him” she joked, her smiles switching slowly into a soft one when Neil spoke softly to deny it “You are beautiful… so shut up” he quickly added the last part to ease the awkward tension. She chuckled as well, sighing as she sat at the chair in front of the desk.
”So.. tell me. What do you need, Neil?” Y/n asked seriously this time, so he mirrored her body language.
”Okay so… My mother said… well, more like forced me? Obligated me… to bring at the christmas dinner a girlfriend and… and she said that if I don't I.. I shouldn't even come.” He stuttered out nervously again, glancing at Y/n as she kept listening to him while nodding. She didn't say anything, as she knew that it wasn't the end of the story. Neil knew it too.
”andithoughtthatyoucouldgowithme” he spat out really quickly, breathing deeply just at the end of the sentence, almost passing out.
Y/n tried not to laugh at that, nodding as if she understood everything he said to her “Now.. I have known you for years, Dink. I know what you said but you know how much I like to see you in such a state, huh. Ask it better” she requested, humming while crossing her legs smugly, waiting for Neil’s next move.
He scoffed at that, of course she wanted that... and he was going to give it to her like every time “Fine! You dick.. Would you come with me… please” he asked, showing her his pleading eyes, earning a chuckle from her “First, I’m not a dick. Second… of course I will, you dork” she answered, leaving a couple of seconds of silence before giving him her final answer, creating suspense between them.
Neil was just nodding sadly, sighing softly as his hand rested on her small shoulder, patting it twice “I know that you would have….wait what—” he raised his voice quickly, his eyes snapping to hers as his mood changed completely “You’re not joking, right?” he asked to make sure he could celebrate his victory. Y/n just rolled her eyes before she got up, kissing his cheek exaggerating the noise.
”I’m not, but now I need to run if I want to make it to the bus. See you later, send me the details.” She said quickly, running through the door with a smile.
Neil sat there in silence for a moment before exhaling loudly. Then a slow smile appeared on his lips.
. *time lapse* .
The snow kept falling down on them as they waited in front of the big mansion, looking at each other every now and then
”You can do it… we can do it. Together.’’ she reminded him as soon as she felt his nervousness, squeezing his hand in her own.
Neil exhaled, straightening his back as he glanced at her. She nodded, and they went to the door, knocking before they'd change their mind. Here we go, no backing away now. Neil knocked, and they waited a couple seconds before steps approached the door, swinging them open and showing the silhouette of Neil's mother.
”Oh, Neil… you're here.” She said with a fake smile plastered on her face. Then her gaze fell on Y/n and her eyes shone with respect. Y/n really was a pretty girl, nice features, styled hair and a very pleasant body, she was also all dolled up like Neil asked her, just for that dinner… ready to support her best friend as best she could. ”..and who's that?” the older woman asked, reaching out to Y/n, who shook her hand with a smile.
”That’s Y/n. My.. girlfriend.” Neil informed his mother, stuttering for a second, glancing at Y/n when the word girlfriend left his mouth.
His mother just nodded, lifting her chin up higher with a smaller smile.
”Come in.” She said, opening the door wider and closing them behind them.
It will be a long night, Y/n thought seeing the rudeness in his mother's eyes.
. *couple hours later* .
Y/n clenched her jaw again that night, hearing the two-sided comments towards Neil. He was quiet most of the time.. before he wasn't, as his younger brother threw an insult towards Y/n this time.
”Watch your fucking mouth.” He barked at him suddenly, surprising everyone by the table. His father's eyes widened, and a little smile appeared on his lips. George gasped in shock, as it never happened before that Neil would actually stand up for himself. He'd either ignore him or just stutter out some insult back.
”Neil” His mother scolded another time throughout the dinner, and Y/n was fed up. She scooted back, and the chair squeaked, scratching the wooden floor from the sudden movement.
”Are you serious? This little brat insults him all night and you won't say anything, but when Neil stands up for me, you dare to scold him?” Y/n spoke up in a harsh, stern tone. The icy gaze in her eyes was enough to make everyone go quiet.
”I… I..” His mother stuttered out, still shocked.
Neil got up suddenly, heading to the door as he needed some fresh air. That whole “Christmas” dinner was a nightmare.
Y/n and Mrs. Lewis kept glaring at each other, and as the older woman opened her mouth to continue arguing, her husband's fist slammed at the table, startling her.
”Enough! Are you happy with ruining our Christmas dinner?” His low voice boomed at her, as he had enough of her backhanded compliments and rude talk. Seeing the situation, Y/n decide to leave as well, grabbing one of the tuna sandwiches from the plate standing on the table, fully knowing that Neil didn't manage to eat anything. Just some baked potatoes but she stole most of them from him. Rushing through the corridor, Y/n noticed that his jacket was gone, so she didn't hesitate to get out of the house.
Looking around, her heart pounded, not seeing him anywhere. Only as she looked at the other side of the road she noticed him, sitting on the bench despite the cold wind and falling snow.
He was visibly upset, with red cheeks and nose, tucked into his big jacket to keep some warm, and snowflakes in his dark hair… he looked beautiful. Even more than usual, she thought.
Even though she was heading to him, he didn't hear her steps or the crunching of snow under the sole of her boots. Only when she stood in front of him, Neil looked up at her face with teary eyes, making her expression soften.
She didn’t say anything, just moved her arm to show him what she was hiding under her coat, a small smile on her face. Neil looked at her, glancing down at the thing she was offering to him, a smile breaking on his face as well.
“A gross tuna sandwich for the grosser boy I know” she sang, moving the food closer to Neil, her cold flushed cheeks making her look like a kid “Come on… take a bite or do you need me to feed you, huh?” She teased, handing him the sandwich after she moved it in tiny circles in front of his face, so that he could sniff its smell.
Neil grabbed it, brushing his warm hands against her cold ones before sticking out his tongue like a kid, just like when he was younger.
Y/n watched him take it, before she sat down on the cold bench next to him. She didn’t talk, just leaned her head on his shoulder, sneaking her hand in his pocket to hold his bigger one in hers.
They stayed like that for some minute, in silence and now in each other’s arms ‘’Don’t listen to them, Dink…’’ she whispered, watching his side profile as he ate his sandwich. Neil was clearly lost in his mind for a while as they just sat there, getting covered with snow. Several minutes passed before Y/n attempted to talk again.
”I don't regret coming here with you.” She confessed, making him look at her, surprise written all over his face.
”How come?” He asked, confused. Neil couldn't think of a single reason for why she would actually be happy about coming on the Christmas dinner to his family. It went.. horrible.
Y/n shrugged, playing with his big long fingers.
”I mean… I don't know.” She backed off a little, feeling a little ashamed of her confession. Neil could see that she wanted to say something else, but doubt crept up her mind. He grabbed her chin suddenly, surprising her and himself as well, making her look in his baby blue eyes that looked even more charming with the white snow in the background.
”Tell me.” He asked more like commanded in a quiet voice. Suddenly the atmosphere between them got more.. intimate than fragile like before. His gaze didn't falter for a second, as he boldly starred in her eyes.
Y/n felt like that moment would pass soon if she didn't take the change.
”I.. I liked.. playing your girlfriend.” She spoke up, matching the volume of his voice. Neil’s eyes shifted down, looking at all the features of her face separately, carefully and taking his time. The intention in his eyes was visible, and made Y/n’s breath deepen as her heart started pounding in her chest.
”I like it too.” He whispered, subconsciously leaning in, reducing the distance between them with each second.
Without a second of doubt, Y/n moved closer, tilting her head up so he could reach her lips more easily.
Even though they both knew it was coming, the sensation that went through their bodies was.. shocking. Knowing each other for years, neither of them would expect to feel… such fireworks while kissing.
Her soft lips moved against his slowly, sensually without any rush. Neil was completely frozen, not moving at all as he didn't want to ruin the moment. Y/n wasn't as shy, as her hand reached his cheek to keep him closer. In their minds the kiss lasted for hours, yet it was barely a minute before they ran out of oxygen. Parting in need of a breath, Neil leaned his forehead on hers, letting out a shaky breath. Silence between them lasted for a couple minutes.
”Neil…” She started out.
”I know.” He cut her off, earning a chuckle.
”Neil…” She started again ”If you don't confess that you love me, right now… I'm afraid I'm going to throw up. I feel your tuna in my mouth.” She whispered, making him burst into laughter.
Shaking his head he grabbed her face in his hands, his eyes shiny and hair a mess, hanging over his forehead.
”I love you, Y/n.” He said, still smiling so widely, and she giggled out loudly.
”I love you too, Dinky…. I'm freezing by the way, could we go back inside? Not in the dining room but maybe in your room. I was always curious to see your childhood bedroom” she revealed, a bit too eager to know more about Neil's past.
With that the young woman stood up, offering her now hopefully boyfriend her hand. It took Neil a couple of seconds to take her hand finally, since the priorities came first, aka his tuna sandwich, leading her himself back towards the house and upstairs to his bedroom.
Nothing had changed much during the years, his little brother George received more useless stuff while her older sister Margaret wasn't living there anymore so her useless stuff was all in her own house.
As soon as they walked in the bedroom, Neil made sure to lock the door, past trauma of people walking in his room without asking just to annoy or piss him off came quickly back. Y/n didn't seem to mind though, her eyes kept wandering around as her hands worked on the buttons of her coat “I have a gift for you by the way” she informed Neil with a smile, her beautiful eyes now stopping back on him “but…I won't give it to you till you go wash your teeth. I don't want to risk getting another tuna kiss” she murmured, shivering at the idea, making Neil laugh and nod as he headed to his own small personal bathroom to do as she said.
Coming out again, his eyes locked with hers— she was now sitting on his bed, leg crossed with a small rectangular present next to her body. A small smile on her face. “Come on, open your gift, Dink” She encouraged him, watching how he walked closer with a childlikeness hidden in his eyes.
Neil carefully took the wrapped object, working on the paper to open it carefully, stealing glances at Y/n who was watching him with his same mood.
“You like it?” The young woman asked softly, studying her best friend's reaction “it's an old noir movie… I heard your discussion about it with Jonathan in the Gumshoe and I managed to find it.” She added anxiously, seeing no clear reaction from him. Her lips parted for the third time, ready to ask for clarification again but she didn't need to, since Neil's lips pressed against hers— his arms wrapping around her smaller frame as his big hand cupped the back of her head to keep her in place. It really looked like one of those kisses characters shared in old movies… so rich of passion and love.
The position was quite uncomfortable though, so they changed it after a couple of seconds, his arms now holding her hips firmly against his body and her arms hugging his neck to keep him closer to her. No tuna this time.
Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989
#neil lewis oneshot#neil lewis x you#neil lewis x y/n#neil lewis cillian murphy#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fic#cillian fic#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#watching the detectives
297 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am very sorry but this was in the back of my mind and i just have to say it. It'll never be not funny to me how he talked about egg and chips with more passion than the mother of his children💀 (let alone David who clearly has his own place, the difference is so sky high it's unfair to compare.)
It's really disappointing how some decide to neglect and deny themselves the joy, from one of the most loving relationships out there just for the reason that it doesn't fit into society's norm boxes. Instead they drag the standards embarrassingly low, because they refuse to let go of the perfect image they crafted out of thin air or any modicum of truth.
Sometimes it makes me scarred to live in a society where "goals" for a healthy, happy relationship is reduced to diplomatic answers, we didn't want this but you meet who you meet ( uncanny resemblance to another couple iirc), unhappy content due to cameras being pushed into your face or tasteless insults in a medium you know they can't (or won't,due to dignity) get back at you. How can you say "love" when the man went out of his way to say "because of how we felt about each other" instead of simply saying now we love each other.
I think when he talked about that arrangement it was the only time there was no light in his eyes… With David he was shining, other questions you could see he was having fun too.
We know this fandom was in much denial for a while, but we have reached the point where they even pretend things aren’t there (Neil saying David and Michael are in love) yet saying they can see Michael and Anna are in love (a word Michael refuses to use for her yet easily gives to David, multiple times). They have created their own fantasy. And it’s extra funny because “shippers” are the bad guys basing their views on actual things that are said and the body language etc, whereas “real fans” now actually need to ignore things and put words in Michael’s mouth to keep their fantasy going. They don’t see how weird it is that AL is spending her day on social media looking for validation from strangers either. They don’t see how depressed David is looking and how GT is giving them break up songs. They don’t see DT growing more and more annoyed with GT acting more and more like a paparazzi. They don’t see GT blatantly undermining David’s accomplishments, or insulting him. They don’t see Michael looking sad in the selfies with just AL. They don’t see that it’s a different world if you switch to MS/DT instead. They ignore that it was said that the men are boyfriends. They ignore that Neil told them the men are still in love. They have an excuse for everything. Yet we are the ones making stuff up?
I do think there is some sort of irony in Michael and David starting their relationships with women in a very similar way. And I wonder if this is why David dislikes Anna so much, because seeing this shit playing out in front of him, with someone he deeply cares about, must sting.
Sometimes when I watch this fandom and their choice to use denial so bluntly… it kind of puts in perspective why so many people are in unhappy relationships and why so many people have relationships/marriages falling apart… A lot of people struggle with seeing what’s right in front of them. A bit extra, but you know how politicians can get people to believe lies so easily? Because they know people are gullible. A lot of people struggle to think for themselves and will join collective, sheep thinking to be part of the group. A lot of people are scared to say “actually…”. It’s easier to be part of a group. And some people simply are not capable of analysis. Especially when you give them what they want to see - Brexit is such a fantastic evidence on how you fool half of the country because majority of people do not think for themselves or check evidence. And if you give them what they want to hear? You’re in.
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Max sits on the sagging brown plaid couch in the trailer, one hand buried in a bag of M&Ms, the other holding a Wonder Woman comic in front of her face, trying to hide her smile as she watches Billy nervously pace the narrow length of carpeting between her and front door, chewing his nails to the quick and glaring at the ugly print of ducks on a lake hung above the tv like it’s personally offended him, his brow pinched like she hasn’t seen it since Neil left six months ago.
There are a lot of words she’d use to describe her older brother. Brazen, brash, brave, caring, loud, smart, antagonistic, thoughtful, yes. But nervous? No. Absolutely not. She’s definitely never seen him act this way about a first date before.
But of course, it’s different with Steve. Everything’s different with Steve. Billy’s gentler, kinder, more likely to laugh and shrug than scowl when something doesn’t go right. He was whistling Wham! while making breakfast this morning. Cooking breakfast isn’t even something Billy does, yet there he was when she woke up, flipping pancakes and doing his best impression of George Michael.
Now though, the nerves are overriding everything else he might be feeling. She doesn’t think he should really be this nervous. Yes, it’s Billy’s first date with Steve, but they’ve hung out a million times before. This is just the natural next step after months of flirting and hang outs as just friends.
He’s changed his shirt twice, and is now muttering about a third option that he didn’t think of before, trying to remember if it’s clean. “Is the cologne too much?” He asks, turning suddenly, sticking his leather jacket clad arm in her face. It is too much, in her opinion, but she just smiles, shaking her head. “No, I think Steve’ll like it.”
He nods once, shooting her a small smile that looks more like a grimace, and resumes his pacing, checking his watch every few seconds.
“Can you please sit?” She asks. “You’re making me nervous, and you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”
He glares at her but complies. Flopping down on the couch next to her and grabbing his own handful of M&Ms. He pops them into his mouth one by one, crunching loudly, his knee jangling as he stares at the door.
Finally, it’s 8pm, and as if on cue, there’s a knock on the door. Billy just sits there, continuing to stare.
“Are you going to answer it?” She hisses, hoping Steve can’t hear her.
He shakes his head. “You do it.”
“No way. It’s your date! Go! It’s just Steve! Don’t be nervous!” She slides her hand behind his back, pushing him forward. Of course it’s not just Steve, though. It’s Billy’s heart and his hopes and dreams, his wishes, everything he wants but has never known how to ask for before now.
He stands, takes one last, big, shaking breath, and slowly turns the knob.
Standing in the doorway is Steve, hair a wild, artfully messy flop, clad in a pink polo and bright white Nikes, holding a bouquet of daisies. A grin splits his face as he takes in the sight of Billy, primped and prepped within an inch of his life after spending the entire afternoon in the washroom.
Steve leans over and whispers something in Billy’s ear and Billy’s posture relaxes, one hand clutching Steve’s bicep and the other now holding the daises.
Max scrambles to find her moms one good vase, finally locating it at the back of a top shelf. She takes the flowers when Billy hands them to her and waves them off to enjoy their night.
She’s sure she’ll hear all about the date from a gushing Billy later tonight or in the morning, but for now, she calls El to talk about how cute Hawkins’ newest couple is.
#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#max mayfield#harringrove fluff#chrisbitchtree writes
464 notes
·
View notes
Text
Billy doesn’t know it yet, but a lot of things in his life change because of Steve Harrington.
Billy’s hiding in the library when he overhears it. He’s ditching calculus because he can’t stand Mr. Hermann’s voice on a good day, the way the old man talks like he’s shouting, and Billy’s head is still ringing from where Neil hit it on a shelf last night because he was late getting Maxine home for dinner.
Billy would normally spend his voluntary free period smoking outside, but it’s fucking snowing today- just one more thing to be grateful about December in goddamn Hawkins, Indiana.
That’s why he’s sitting at a table that’s kind of out of the way in the library, hidden behind the biology section. He yanked out a book about the ocean to look at the pictures to distract himself until next period.
That’s when he hears them talking. Harrington and Wheeler.
“Mike says Dustin’s driving him crazy,” Wheeler’s saying softly, from across the shelves hiding Billy. “He won’t shut up about you.”
“We’ve been hanging out,” Harrington says, just as quietly, and his voice sounds like it’s coming out through a smile. Billy tries not to picture it in his mind. “He’s cool, you know, for a middle schooler.”
Harrington says it like he’s annoyed, but his tone can’t be anything but fond. It’s ridiculous. Billy’s seen Harrington driving around the dweebs Maxine’s friends with, has seen them at the arcade and at the diner, so he knows Harrington’s been hanging around them like an overgrown mother hen. Billy can’t make sense of it.
“You seem better,” Wheeler says, after a moment of silence, and there’s something hesitant about it. “Lately, I mean. Lighter.”
Harrington doesn’t answer, and Billy wishes he could see what his face looks like. He’d noticed Harrington had been looking rough since November, even after the bruising had faded, with bags under his eyes and hollow cheeks. A blank stare, like he was somewhere else in his head.
“Dustin’s a great kid,” Harrington repeats, kind of distantly. Then in a rush he says, like the words will disappear if he doesn’t get them out, “He’s been calling me in the walkie some nights. He can’t sleep either.”
“Oh, Steve…”
“So we talk a lot. About, you know… Being there for him, it helps.”
They go silent. It’s clear something happened to the kid, and to Harrington, and Billy doesn’t care- except something happened to Max, too. She’s been quiet, and spooked, since That Night. Billy wonders if whatever happened to them happened then, after they left him drugged on the floor.
“I always wanted a little brother,” Harrington cuts through the silence. Wheeler makes a soft noise like she’s listening. “I hated being alone all the time. I thought it would be like having a friend for life, you know. Then I got older, and my dad… I don’t think… I think that if I had a brother, my dad would make us resent each other,” He says, like a confession, and it sits like a stone in Billy’s stomach.
“You can’t know that, Steve…” Wheeler says softly.
“No, I know. It’s just a feeling,” Billy hears Harrington shift, then the shelf wobbles, like he’s leaning on it. “You know what my dad’s like, with me. I keep thinking, if I had a brother… He’d be comparing us all the time. Pitting us against each other. Makes us tell on each other. To make sure we were alone. I don’t know,” He huffs, and mocks himself with a little laugh. “Like you said, it’s stupid.”
Billy has to swallow past a lump in his throat. His hands are clenched into fists. It sounds a little too familiar, Harrington’s feelings about his father. Neil knows how to be an asshole too, especially about Maxine, and being a good big brother. Makes a point of disciplining Billy about it. Except all it does is make him hate Max.
“Maybe it’s not,” Wheeler says, and her voice is firm this time. Maybe she’s holding Harrington’s hand, even. “He really is an asshole.”
Harrington snorts, but it’s still a little sad, “Thanks, Nance.”
Billy sinks lower in his seat, careful not to make noise. He feels suddenly exhausted. The ringing in his head feels worse than ever.
“This is better, with Dustin,” Harrington says. “He’s awesome. And the other kids too.”
And my dad can’t touch him, he doesn’t say, but Billy hears it all the same.
Eventually, Harrington and Wheeler leave and Billy’s alone again behind his bookshelves, with the marine biology book he hasn’t looked at in half an hour. Harrington’s words don’t leave him though.
Billy knows his resentment of Max mostly comes from how his dad treats her, he’s aware enough of that. He hates that she never suffers the consequences of the shit the does, that she can do no wrong in Neil’s eyes, that she and Susan make up Neil’s idea of a perfect family and Billy doesn’t.
It hadn’t occurred to Billy that Neil could be doing all of it deliberately. This whole time he thought his dad wanted him to like Max - wanted him to be a good big brother. He never thought it could be all a part of a different game, to make him hate Max and make Max hate him.
What was it that Harrington said? To make sure we were alone.
Easy to control.
That’s what Neil likes, isn’t it.
Billy ends up ditching the rest of the day. He can’t stomach the thought of sitting in a classroom listening to teachers droning on about shit while his head’s buzzing with memories trying to reorganize themselves. This can’t be right. He can’t have gotten it this wrong. Billy’s too old to be this dumb, to fall for this shit.
A voice that sounds like his mom’s says in his mind, but your father is older.
At four, he picks up Max from AV Club and doesn’t yell at her to hurry up. He can’t bring himself to say anything, really. He drives her to the arcade when she asks and doesn’t speed on the corners to scare her, doesn’t play his music too loud. He feels kind of numb.
He can’t make himself be harsh, but can’t make himself be nice, either. He’s sure Maxine wouldn’t be receptive to it, anyway. She’s been steadily ignoring him for weeks now, since That Night.
Billy watches her go inside the arcade and thunks his head back against his seat. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do.
A couple spots away, a burgundy Beamer pulls into the parking lot. Fucking Harrington.
#Harringrove#Harringrove prompt#Billy Hargrove#Steve Harrington#billy x steve#max mayfield#billy and max#feel free to use as a prompt for your own writing#mine#ficlet
642 notes
·
View notes
Text
Case study and analysis of the 1992 Good Omens movie screenplay (“the shitscript”) in light of the ongoing WGA strike
As one could suspect, the topic of the 1992 Good Omens movie screenplay and its infamy has recently emerged from the depths of the fandom. In light of the ongoing WGA strike it’d be good to properly address this issue, starting with Neil Gaiman’s own recollection written in 2004:
It’s basically the same old story — of brilliant creative workers struggling under the pressure of detached studio executives and being legally forced to mutilate their work again and again for no artistic or economic reason — we’ve heard before in many different contexts.
If you’re reading this and somehow still wondering why writers are fighting for their rights at the moment, their job security hasn’t changed much since then. Please follow the WGA, SAG-AFTRA, and other unions’ official channels for detailed information and ways to help the cause.
Anyway, it took over a decade and an enormous effort to print the screenplay in a limited edition of 552 copies. It can’t be distributed otherwise due to IP law, but some fans shared its fragments online and heavily criticized them, dubbing the 1992 source material #shitscript
There’s been obviously a lot of controversies over the changes in the plot and the relationship between the main characters. And rightfully so — the number of iterations has created something very different from the beloved book and the award-winning show we can all enjoy today.
It’s… objectively not good. Wouldn’t be considered a hit back then and certainly not by today’s standards. I don’t think I would watch it in any other way than through channel surfing. However, it’s not a monstrosity some people believe it to be and not a case of low effort.
Let’s start with the world building: the setting wasn’t changed to the US. It’s still very much based in the UK, mostly London and Tadfield, although the latter lies now by the sea and seems much more ominous. Interestingly, the British Museum becomes a prominent location as well.
The main character and the designated hero is not surprisingly Crowley, this time in his 90s anti-hero glory. If you haven’t watched many movies of this era, esp. dark fantasy, this trope involves middle-age disenchantment, cynicism, as well as hefty doses of sarcasm and brooding.
90s anti-heroes are a dark, grim, and unnecessarily violent embodiment of power fantasy, matching the destructive ideology of that time. Combined with uber-masculinity and performative strength over weaker characters, nowadays they naturally evoke more cringe or worry than awe.
1992 iteration of Crowley is basically in his Furfur era. Deeply unhappy and stuck in a dead end job, all he talks about is how he hates Earth and his assignment here, considering a transfer to Alpha Centauri as his one and only possibility of career advancement. Or life, really.
The talking part is important here, because he clearly compensates by insulting everything and everyone. He hates on the whole planet at length only to confess that he’d rather stay here with Aziraphale due to “no good restaurants”, “no decent bottle of wine” in Alpha Centauri.
Yes, he’s verbally abusive in his automatic response to stress. But doesn’t hate Aziraphale. In one particular scene he calls Azi stupid twice only to assure him that they are friends and to offer to solve the problem when he sees that his words were taken seriously and hurt him.
Crowley refers to him as “my angel” and “my dear Aziraphale”, agrees to Aziraphale’s suggestion of sharing a room, praises the angel as a “miracle worker around the home”, drinks the tea he makes for him, and generally proves to be much softer towards him than he wants to admit.
Aziraphale, on the contrary, wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s the one engineering ways to spend more time together, following Crowley around, checking up on him (including miracling himself into his apartment and office when no one answers the door), offering help right away.
He’s successfully calming Crowley down through his anxiety attacks, overcomes his dislike of heights (!) for Crowley, directly challenges him and even breaks rules only to make Crowley stay with him. Crowley seems to be his main motivation in this movie, not the saving the world.
1992 Aziraphale also has the most badass scene in the whole Good Omens multiverse to date, taking a 180 degree turn from the typical guardian angel we all know and love to the real angel of wrath protecting Crowley from harm in his true form.
But there’s no Their Side in this universe. The only semblance of that concept appears in the context of Anathema not representing either of their respective bosses, but humanity. “That’s the trouble with the humans. They’re on their own side.”
This Crowley appears not as much on Hell’s side as under Satan’s heel. He’s scared of him and subservient, and needs Aziraphale to prevent his escape as a pretext to do what is right. He lets the angel stop him by pretending that he doesn’t even see him cheating during their duel.
By finally standing up to his toxic boss (Satan is like Gabriel during the body-swapped trial, suave and cruel) and leaving Hell’s side to do good, Crowley takes an emancipated and employee-focused stance instead of fighting for his relationship with Aziraphale like shown in S1.
Which is a shame, but matches the overall tone of the screenplay and the times it was written in. The concept of free will, while simplified in a true Hollywood-style to issues like mind control and fear, is still crucial to this interpretation of the Good Omens original plot.
Especially the character of Anathema is seen fighting both of these things. There’s no Agnes Nutter with her prophecies here, only a 21-year-old witch and her will to thwart the ultimate evil versus her fear of doing it at a cost of one boy’s life, versus Satan’s brainwashing.
Madame Tracy appears slightly redesigned as a new character as well, but isn’t 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 for the most part. She’s been enjoying her youth way too much to see how fast it was fleeting, and this sudden realization left her in shock from which she denies to come back.
Unfortunately she’s also the one who took in baby Adam and now stays under his care. The level of his parentification is unnerving, much like his bullying and loneliness. He struggles to be loved and ask for love, which becomes his main quest beyond, y’know, the apocalypse thing.
Don’t worry, despite everything all ends well just like in the book. The family of two gets a chance to start again on much healthier terms and Anathema to live for herself for the first time in years. Our heroes get back in their car, Crowley tempting Aziraphale with an apple.
All in all, this whole post is a very long reminder for Amazon Prime to #PayYourWriters, #PayYourActors, and #RenewGoodOmens! The strike is still ongoing and crucial for any new content for this and many other fandoms #GiveMeS3orGiveMeDeath
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
Learning to Love 4
(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)
Rating: Mature
Relationship: Steve /Billy
Tags: enemies to lovers, internalized homophobia
Words: 1143
Billy hasn’t seen Steve since the day of the test. There isn’t any need for them to study together anymore, and the pretty boy had left the basketball team months before, so the only way Billy had to see him is looking for him in the parking lot. But he is not always so lucky. More times than not he has to pick up his stupid step-sister and bring her safely home, losing the only occasion he has of seeing Steve.
He doesn’t miss the time they spent together. And he absolutely does not miss getting cozy on Steve’s couch and drinking beer while watching a movie. And he is definitely not still thinking about that night when Steve fell asleep and his head slid onto his shoulder and he felt his warm breath on his neck.
It's not that.
It's just that he is worried about him.
"Are you still moping?" Max asks, opening the car's door.
"The fuck do you want?"
"I'm tired of seeing you moping around, ok? You are still an asshole but when you were hanging out with Steve you were a little bit less of an asshole."
Billy glares at her. "What are you saying?" He replies in an icy cold tone.
"Nothing. Just that it was nice when you were friends with Steve. So, tell me, how bad did you fuck up?"
Billy pushes on the gas pedal, "I didn't fuck up."
"So why is he avoiding you?" Max insists.
"He is not. We don't have any more classes in common and he passed his test so now we have no reason to meet."
Max remains silent for a long moment, then she whispers "If there was an opportunity to meet him, would you be an asshole as usual?"
Billy lifts an eyebrow "What are you talking about?"
"The party wants to go to the arcade on Saturday and Steve is Dustin's friend, they searched for Dustin's cat together or something like that. Anyway, Steve is going to drive Dustin and you could drive me and Lucas."
"Lucas?" Billy growls, "Are you still hanging out with him?"
She sticks her tongue out "He is my boyfriend! Get over it!"
"You are too fucking young to have a boyfriend! You are thirteen for Christ's sake!"
"Come on! Everyone at school has a boyfriend! Why do you hate Lucas, huh?"
Billy doesn't reply, his eyes fixed on the road.
It's not true that he hates Lucas. Well, he doesn't like him very much, to be honest, he is sniffing around his sister after all and Billy is fiercely protective of his pack, but that's not the true reason behind his attitude. The true reason is that Billy knows that if Neil would even suspect that the girl is having a relationship with a boy he will lock her in the fucking basement.
That's what he did to Billy the first time that he saw him holding hands with Thomas; he beat him with the strap and locked him in the basement for two days, giving him just water and bread. He is pretty sure that Neil will not beat her, not if he wants to keep his shiny new wife, but he is pretty sure that he will not let her go to the skate park or arcade anymore. So, no, Billy doesn't like Lucas.
“Think about it. Driving Lucas and I and finally talking to Steve, or ruining my weekend and staying in your room all day.” She says while she gets out of the car, leaving Billy staring at the front door of their house on Cherry Lane.
***
Saturday afternoons Neil and Susan go to Indianapolis to spend the day, leaving Billy in charge of Max, which is something that annoys both of them, but this time Max is determined to convince Billy to drive her to the arcade
“Come on! If you don’t drive me I’ll go on my skateboard!”
“You will not do such a thing!” Billy snarls, grabbing her arm harshly.
“I deserve to have some fun, Billy! The only reason I asked you to drive me is because I think that Steve’s friendship is good for you and I wanted to help you make peace, but if you are going to be an asshole as usual I’ll skate to Lucas and then I’ll ask his parents to drive us to the arcade!”
Billy glares at the girl, he wants to talk with Steve more than anything but he doesn’t like to be used like that.
“Fuck you, Maxine. You don’t know shit! So stop acting like you have all the answers in your fucking pocket.”
“Oh, I don’t know shit? I know why we moved here, Billy!” She retorts, covering her mouth as soon as those words come out.
“You… what?” He growls, grabbing her and pushing her against the wall.
“I didn’t tell anyone!” She assures him.
“Because there is nothing to say!” He screams, freeing her from his grip. Billy goes back to his room, slamming the door so hard that the poster above his bed wobbles.
Nobody can know what happened in California. Nobody. Not even Maxine.
A soft knock on the door breaks the seething silence in Billy’s mind.
“Fuck off!”
“I’m sorry. Billy, I’m sorry, for real. I didn’t mean… please. Come with me to the arcade. I saw the two of you together…” She whispers behind the door “You looked… you looked nice together.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you mean and I’m not going to drive you anywhere. You are grounded!” He replies, lightening a cigarette between his lips.
Max stays outside his room for a few moments before walking away and Billy finally relaxes. Did he start to feel something for the pretty boy he tutored? Maybe. But there is no way he is going to admit that, not even to himself.
He is lifting some weights, his body covered in sweat, when he hears the roar of a car that stops exactly in front of his house. Surprised, he looks out of the window and sees a familiar Beemer and immediately screams “MAXINE!” but the girl is already running toward the car with her backpack on her shoulder and Steve is holding the car’s door open for her when Billy gets on the porch.
“Maxine, come immediately back, you know that you are grounded.”
She sticks her tongue out “My mom is not here and she didn’t tell me I was grounded, she just told me that I should stay with you, not where. So get your shit together and come with us because I’m not getting back inside.” She replies bravely and if Billy’s look could kill she would be dead by now, but no, she is still there, smiling triumphantly at him.
Steve lifts an eyebrow “You coming or what?”
#stranger things fanfic#steve x billy#harringrove#medusapelagia#Billy Hargrove#Steve Harrington#Harringrove#Billy x Steve#Stranger Things Fanfiction#Harringrove fic#medusapelagia fanfic#my fanfic#learning to love
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
i don’t think you notice (what you did to me) [b.h]
seven. | thankful
Billy Hargrove ✘ Win Lewis (ofc)
⇾ w.c. 4.4k words
⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, neil's a grade A asshole, allusions to abuse, though none is explicitly shown in this chapter, smut, angry sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, billy is bad with emotions
⇾ a/n. i know i'm completely warping the timeline of season two, but i wanted more time for win and billy to get to know each other before the events in The Gate happen
[ masterlist ] [ win lewis bio ]
“So, Win, got any plans for Thanksgiving?” Max asked as she slipped into the backseat of the Camaro, skateboard in hand.
“Oh shit, that’s tomorrow isn’t it?” Win murmured, her lips twisting slightly. “Uh, no, not really,” she admitted. “My dad has to work, so I’ll probably get some Chinese takeout or something and veg in front of the tv,” she said with a shrug, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. She felt Billy’s eyes on her as he drove down the deserted country road, but he didn’t say anything.
“You’re kidding,” Max huffed. “That’s so lame.”
Win shrugged, glancing out the window. “It’s fine,” she said, brushing off Max’s concern. The last thing she wanted was anyone’s pity. She’d been left on her own for most of her life since her mom’s death. She was used to it.
“Billy, you should invite Win to our Thanksgiving dinner,” Max suggested, speaking up after a moment, and Win could see the silent battle of wills taking place through the rear view mirror–Billy glaring back at Max, who didn’t back down, glaring right back at him.
“You don’t seriously want your girlfriend to spend the holiday on her own, do you?” Max insisted and Billy scowled, pulling up to the curb of the arcade.
“I’ll be back in an hour. You better be here,” he said instead, his voice gruff.
“Yeah, yeah, or I’ll have to skate home,” Max muttered, rolling her eyes before shooting Win a sympathetic glance, flipping Billy the bird as he pulled away, peeling out of the parking lot.
Finally alone in the car, neither of them spoke, both seeming unable to break the silence.
“You really don't want me to come to dinner?” Win finally murmured, her eyes flitting to Billy, hating how insecure she felt.
“I just don’t think it would be a good idea,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His brusque answer felt like a slap in the face.
“Are you embarrassed of me?” she asked, bile rising in her throat, her thoughts beginning to spiral–she knew he was a playboy, why did she think he’d actually be serious about her?
“What? No!” Billy exclaimed, stomping on the brakes and pulling to the side of the road so he could look at her, a conflicted expression crossing his face. He paused, taking a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself before he spoke, not wanting to snap at her.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t want you there,” Billy exclaimed, his gaze slipping, not quite meeting Win’s eyes. “It’s just that, if you haven’t figured it out yet, my dad’s a grade-A fuckin’ asshole and I don’t want you to have to deal with that,” he explained, tensing, as if waiting for Win to tell him off, and shame filled her.
“Shit,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she silently berated herself for jumping to conclusions. “I’m sorry, Billy,” she murmured, heaving a breath as her eyes found his. “I don’t care how big of a dick he is, I wanna spend the holiday with you,” she assured him softly. “I can handle myself.”
Billy let out a doubtful huff, but he didn’t argue, placing his hand atop hers as a hopeful look flickered in his eyes, gone the next moment.
Throwing the car back in drive, he pulled back out onto the road. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered.
The next morning, Win paced as she waited for Billy to arrive to pick her up. Her father had already left by the time she woke, leaving a note for her on the counter, promising to be home as soon as he was able, though Win wasn’t about to hold her breath for that.
When she heard the snarl of the Camaro’s engine in the drive, she pushed open the front door and slipped into the leather seat. Billy raised an eyebrow at the sight of her and her knee length black collared dress, her short platinum hair pulled up halfway.
“What?” she asked, noticing his expression.
“Nothing,” he replied quickly. “You look nice, is all,” he added, backing out onto the road, his hand enveloping her bare knee.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” Win observed, warmed by his touch. “You even managed to button your shirt up most of the way,” she teased and Billy stuck his tongue out at her, his hand on her leg tightening, giving her a warning squeeze.
However, the closer they got to Cherry Street, the grimmer Billy’s expression grew, his apprehension bleeding into Win. By the time he parked in front of the house, all trace of his grin had disappeared and he reluctantly got out of the car.
“Hey, it’s gunna be alright, I promise,” Win insisted as they walked up the sidewalk together, stopping at the front stoop.
“Yeah,” Billy agreed, though he seemed distracted.
Win smiled encouragingly, taking his hand in hers as she raised up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek. Billy’s expression softened and he turned his face to steal a kiss, grinning down at her before pushing the door open.
Inside, the warm smell of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie met them and Win took a deep breath, inhaling the nostalgic scent. Billy’s dad sat on the couch, watching the football game, a can of beer in hand, and Win gave him a cursory glance.
Neil Hargrove was the definition of straight laced, his appearance neat and tailored, everything in place. Billy had told her that he worked as a security guard, and with his mustache, Win would have probably guessed it–that or a cop. There was nothing soft about the man, and when he turned his stern gaze on her, she felt like she was being sized up.
Before Billy could pull Win to his room, Neil spoke up, stopping his son in his tracks.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going? Don’t be rude, come back here and introduce your girlfriend,” he snapped and Win could instantly see the shift in Billy’s demeanor–the way his shoulders hunched slightly and his jaw flexed, setting in resignation as he stared ahead flatly.
“I want to meet this girl you’ve been staying out all night with.”
At his words, a sinking feeling opened in the pit of Win’s stomach, making her wonder just how much that night together had cost Billy.
“Win, this is… my dad, Neil. Dad, this is Win. Win Lewis,” Billy said haltingly, as if the words were being pulled from him, reluctant even to call the man his father.
“Nice to meet you,” Win said, flashing him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“You’re not what I expected,” Neil mused, returning her smile, though his too held no warmth.
Win wanted to ask what exactly he expected, but she held her tongue, determined to be civil, at least for Billy’s sake.
“So, Susan tells me your father’s working today?” Neil continued, glancing between her and the television when one of the teams scored.
“Yeah, he works at Hawkins Lab. They’re really busy right now, I guess,” Win murmured and Neil nodded.
“Sounds like he’s working hard, like any good American should,” he exclaimed and Win had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.
“Yeah well, he should at least get to spend the day with his kid,” Billy grumbled, slipping his arm around Win’s waist protectively.
Neil’s eyes flashed. “Sometimes when you’re an adult you have to make sacrifices, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that,” he said pointedly, his voice dangerously low and Win felt Billy tense next to her.
Thankfully, it was then that Susan appeared, stepping out of the kitchen to greet Win.
“I thought I heard voices out here,” she said, carefully keeping her eyes away from her husband as she crossed the room to wrap Win in an awkward hug. “I’m so sorry your father had to work today, but you are always welcome here,” she insisted, pulling back to smile warmly at Win.
“Thank you,” Win murmured, ducking her head. “It smells really good,” she added, which made Susan’s smile grow.
“It’s not quite finished yet, another half hour or so,” she said quickly and Win followed her further inside, grateful to get away from Neil.
“Do you need any help?” Win asked, ignoring Billy’s sharp sidelong look.
Mrs. Hargrove, however, practically gaped at Win, completely taken aback by her offer before finding the words to respond. “You’re so sweet for asking, but it’s fine, really. Besides, you’re our guest, you shouldn’t be put to work,” she exclaimed, letting out a nervous laugh.
“I don’t mind,” Win insisted with a shrug. “I feel kinda bad I didn’t bring anything.”
Billy snorted, amused at the thought. “That’s probably a good thing,” he teased under his breath, hastily avoiding Win’s elbow as she tried to jab him in the side, her lips twitching into a grin despite herself.
“It’s fine,” Susan assured her. “Though, I suppose if you really want to help, there’ll be plenty of dishes to wash after dinner.”
Win nodded before Billy pulled her away, growing too impatient.
“Hey Max,” Win greeted, sticking her head around the younger girl’s open bedroom door as they passed.
“Hey Win,” Max called back, looking up from the comic book spread open on her bed.
Win didn’t have time to say more before Billy was yanking her to his room and she let herself be led. This time when he pushed open his door she noticed a small latch fastened to the top corner of the outside of his door and the implication behind its presence was clear. Win wondered how many times Neil had locked Billy inside his room and her stomach knotted at the thought.
Once they were inside, Billy quickly shut the door and strode to his bed, plopping down unceremoniously.
“You okay?” Win asked, joining him on the edge of the bed.
Billy let out a long breath. “Yeah, m’fine,” he finally muttered, his voice gruff, like talking about it at all made him uncomfortable. “Sorry for my dad’s behavior, he’s such an asshole,” he growled, shaking his head, and Win gently placed her hand on his arm.
“It’s fine, I was expecting it,” she murmured, the question she wanted to ask waiting on the tip of her tongue as she deliberated it. Wetting her lips, she decided to just ask, her lungs burning the longer she held it in.
“What happened after that night that you stayed over? How much trouble did you get in?”
The question hung in the air for a long moment and at first Win thought Billy was just going to ignore it.
“Nothing. Nothing happened,” he finally replied, eyes staring straight ahead, his voice clipped and hard, as if it took all his effort to keep it under control.
“Billy…”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped and Win pulled back, dropping the subject, her heart in her throat.
After a moment Billy glanced over, his expression conflicted, as if he wanted to say something, but before he could open his mouth, his father’s voice echoed down the hall.
“Billy, Maxine! Come set the table!”
Billy’s jaw flexed in annoyance, but he pushed up off the bed. “C’mon, it’s almost time to eat,” he said, holding out his hand to help Win up, the gesture as much of an olive branch as he could give at the moment, and Win took it, letting him pull her to her feet.
They met Max in the hallway and filed into the cramped kitchen to grab the plates and silverware while Susan dished all the food into serving trays and bowls for the table. Once the table was set and the food all brought out, Neil made his way in to cut the turkey, taking his place at the head of the table. In the other room the television babbled to itself, the game still playing in the background.
“Everything looks amazing, Mrs. Hargrove,” Win said as the side dishes passed around the table and everyone took what they wanted.
“Thank you, Win, that’s very sweet of you to say,” Susan replied, practically beaming, and Max piped up as well, echoing Win.
“Yeah, Mom, really good.”
Neil didn’t glance up from the turkey, but his words were clearly meant for Max. “You could’ve helped your mother more. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to know how to do this.”
Max’s face tightened, but she merely looked down at her plate, biting back the comeback she wanted to hurl.
Once the turkey was sliced, it too circled the table and Win speared a piece with her fork, getting it halfway to her mouth when Neil cleared his throat.
“Shall we say Grace?” he murmured and Win quickly dropped her fork, awkwardly folding her hands like the others with the exception of Billy who rolled his eyes when his dad wasn’t looking.
Not really paying attention while Mr. Hargrove prayed, Win shared a secret look with Billy, thinking it was awfully ironic that Neil was leading them in prayer, projecting this wholesome family man image when really he was the biggest bully of all.
When he finished, Win quickly shut her eyes, opening them with the others, as if they’d been closed the entire time. Neil didn’t say anything, but it seemed his first bite was the actual official cue for everyone to start eating.
Win’s mouth was full when he suddenly directed a question her way.
“So, Win,” he began, placing a strange emphasis on her name. “That’s an unusual name,” he mused, seeming to veer off from his original question. “Is that short for something?”
Win nearly choked as she swallowed to answer, clearing her throat awkwardly as she stalled, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
“Uh, yeah, it’s short for Winrey. My mum was British,” she explained.
“British. Huh,” Neil grunted, taking a drink from his glass. “Play any sports? Cheerleading?” he asked, his gaze flicking to hers for a moment before focusing back on his plate.
“No, I’ve never really been all that athletic, except that time I tried gymnastics. I’m more into music and cars,” she said, shooting a small grin at Billy who snorted softly and shook his head.
“Music and cars,” Neil repeated dryly and Billy’s grin vanished as quick as it had appeared. “Sounds like you have a lot in common,” he said, his tone flat, as if he didn’t really think that was a good thing. “Sounds like you found yourself a keeper, wonder how long it’ll last before you fuck it up,” he said, glancing at Billy as if just waiting for him to snap back.
Everyone at the table fell silent, their eyes dropping to their own plates, except for Win. She stared incredulously back at Neil, taken aback by the bluntness of his comment. Next to her, Billy’s jaw flexed and his grip on his fork tightened as he seethed in silence.
Win however, wasn’t as adept at biting her tongue, muttering the most smart-assed comment that sprang to her lips. “Well if you can keep a wife…”
Neil’s eyes narrowed at her across the table as he chewed slowly. “Excuse me?”
“Oh! Who wants pie?” Susan exclaimed quickly, jumping to her feet.
“I do!” Max said, latching onto the distraction.
“Neil? Honey?” Susan asked pointedly and he finally tore his gaze from Win, turning his attention to his wife and nodding.
Win ducked her head as she ate, grinning to herself.
Susan returned moments later with the pie and dinner resumed without any further conversation directed at Win or Billy. Neil, for the most part, ignored them to go on about how great Reagan was for America.
By the time dinner wound down, Win was ready to slip away with Billy, wanting to make sure he was alright, but before she got the chance, Susan asked if she minded helping with the dishes, and Win reluctantly agreed. She had offered to help earlier, after all.
Standing next to Susan at the counter, she dried the plates as the other woman passed them to her.
“It’s so nice having another woman in the house,” Mrs. Hargrove murmured, smiling softly to herself. “Maxine’s not exactly the feminine type, so…” she trailed off and Win nodded in understanding.
“My mum died when I was about Max’s age,” Win admitted, looking down at the serving dish in her hands. “I miss this kinda stuff too,” she murmured and Susan’s sad smile returned.
“You know,” she began, pausing nervously to glance around, as if making sure her husband wasn’t in earshot before continuing. “I’m glad Billy met you,” she said quietly. “I-I think you might be the best thing to happen to him in a long time.”
Win looked up at her and her shock must have shown on her face because Susan only nodded. “You’re a good influence on him,” she insisted.
Win wanted to laugh. Certainly that wasn’t true. She felt, if anything, they were both bad influences, but of course she didn’t say so.
Once the dishes were all washed and dried, Win went in search of Billy, but his bedroom was empty.
“He’s out in the garage with Neil,” Max said, watching Win from her door.
“Oh,” Win breathed, frowning, worried about what the two men could be talking about.
“What do you see in him?”
Max’s question took Win off guard and for a moment she merely blinked at the redhead, trying to think. “I-I dunno,” she spluttered, her brows pinching further. "I mean, I know he can be kind of a jerk–"
"Kind of?" Max scoffed, interjecting.
“Yeah, okay, more than kind of,” Win agreed begrudgingly. “But I guess there’s more to him than meets the eye,” she continued, shrugging. “I know that’s hella cliche, but it’s true.”
Max eyed her and for a moment Win thought she was going to scoff at her again, but all she said was “maybe” with a shrug.
“When you first started going out, I thought you were too nice for him, but maybe you’re rubbing off on him. Or maybe he actually really likes you,” she said. “I’ve never seen him act like he does around you,” she added and Win’s lips tugged into a small grin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and trust me, he’s been out with a lot of girls,” Max said, wincing as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I mean, you know,” she added, her freckled cheeks flushing before she quickly shook her head. “But I don’t think he’s ever actually dated anyone before,” she admitted and the thought that she was somehow more special than the others made Win’s stomach flutter.
“Anyway, I hope Neil’s wrong and you guys stay together. Billy’s not as terrible when you’re around,” Max said, sharing a small smile with Win before the garage door slammed open and Billy strode back inside, his expression tense.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he said brusquely, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
“Uh, okay–” Win began, but Billy was already heading impatiently for the front door.
“I wrapped up some leftovers for you to take home for your father,” Susan offered, coming out of the kitchen with a plastic bag full of aluminum foil parcels.
“Thank you, he’ll appreciate this,” Win murmured, accepting the bag. “Uh, thank you again for dinner,” she said hastily, nodding to Susan and Max, who lingered in the hallway.
“It was our pleasure,” Susan called after her as Win followed Billy.
Outside, the sun was slipping toward the horizon, casting the darkening sky in an orange hue as the wind picked up, blowing several dry leaves past their ankles.
“Hey, you okay?” Win asked, jogging to keep up, but Billy didn’t answer, slipping behind the wheel and slamming the door shut. Win joined him in the car, her brows furrowing with worry. “Billy,” she tried again, firmer. “Did something happen?”
Billy started the engine, keeping his eyes on the road. “It’s nothing,” he said, finally glancing over at her, a tightness around his eyes as if he were fighting to keep something in, to keep his mask in place.
“It’s not nothing,” Win said gently, placing her hand on his arm and Billy tensed.
“I said it’s fine,” he insisted, gruffer than intended, but Win didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured and Billy snorted, the sound harsh in the quiet car; he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio.
“I told you my dad would be an asshole,” he mumbled, tearing down the empty road.
“It really bothered you, what he said about us,” Win ventured, though it was less of a question and more an observation, and Billy’s expression tightened further, his lips pursing angrily. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about–” Win began, her words cutting off as he suddenly veered off the road and threw the Camaro in park.
“He doesn’t know shit,” Billy growled, leaning across the center console, his lips colliding with hers as his hand slipped behind her head, holding her in place as he kissed her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth. “I need you,” he groaned, raw desperation lacing his deep voice, usually so velvety smooth and coated in honey. “Need you so fucking bad.”
Win gasped, her head spinning at the intensity behind his bruising kisses, all teeth and tongue, as if he wanted to devour her. Once she caught her breath, she kissed him back just as fiercely, grabbing hold of his jacket and moaning into his mouth as his hand slipped between her thighs, his thumb pressing circles against her clothed clit, sending heat rushing through her.
“Get in the back seat,” he commanded, nipping hard at her bottom lip before pulling back and unbuckling, throwing open his door.
Gasping at the sudden disappearance of his lips, it took a second for Win’s brain to catch up and she hastily followed suit. Billy was already around the car by the time she stood and he opened the back door, his mouth hot on hers as he guided her, lowering her back onto the seat.
Reaching under her dress, he tugged her panties down impatiently, freeing them from her legs before straightening to unzip his pants and free his throbbing cock, a desperation to his movements.
“Billy—!” Win yelped breathlessly as he yanked her to the edge of the seat and pulled her legs apart, bullying his tip between her folds and rutting into her. “Oh—“ she gasped as he sheathed her, waiting only a moment for her to adjust before he was pumping into her, his thrusts sharp and frantic.
“Oh fuck—“ she groaned, bracing herself with her arms, her entire body jolting with each desperate snap of his hips, the air filling with the lewd smack of skin against skin and Billy’s labored pants.
“Want you to cum,” he growled, freeing one hand to once more thumb her clit, gathering her wetness on the pad of his finger so it would glide over her delicate nub easily, sending electricity shooting through her. “Cum for me, Win,” he grunted, the words a harsh plea, as he fucked her into the seat, and she had no choice but to obey, the tightly coiled spring of pleasure snapping at his relentless assault on her clit.
“Fuck—BILLY!” she wailed, cumming hard, her orgasm hitting her like a train, but Billy didn’t stop, fucking her through it til his hips stuttered, bottoming out as he filled her, his chest heaving as he emptied himself deep inside.
For a moment neither of them spoke, too dazed to formulate words, merely panting hard to catch their breaths. Billy pulled free, hastily tucking himself back into his tight jeans before grabbing her discarded panties and slipping them back up her legs, helping her to stand.
Before she could speak, he pulled her into his arms, holding her to him tightly, tucking her head beneath his chin.
“M’sorry,” he murmured hoarsely, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check and not quite succeeding.
“I’m glad you were there,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “It made today… bearable.”
Win buried her face against his chest with a sigh, the tension from before leeching away. “I’m glad I was there too,” she whispered back, warm tears catching in her lashes.
“C’mon, I better get you home,” he said reluctantly, clearing his throat, and Win nodded against his chest.
––
“I’ll call you later,” Win murmured, leaning in to steal a kiss before opening the car door and slipping out, grabbing the bag of leftovers.
Billy nodded, giving her a wave as he backed out of the drive, leaving her standing in there as the sun disappeared completely below the horizon. Win watched the Camaro slip away into the night before turning toward her house. Her dad’s car was parked in the drive and several lights burned inside. She wondered how long he’d been home.
“Hey,” she greeted as she opened the door, finding him standing listlessly by the counter. David’s head snapped up as she came in.
“I’m so sorry—“ he began, but Win shook her head fiercely, cutting him off.
“You’re here now,” she said, rounding the counter to embrace him, her chest tight.
“Did you have a nice time at… Billy’s?” he asked, still struggling to say his name without any vitriol and Win snorted, pulling away to open the leftovers and fix them both a plate.
“Yeah, it was alright,” she said. “His stepmom sent some food home for you.”
“That was nice,” David mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair as he watched Win plate the food.
“They nice people?” he asked and Win shrugged.
“His stepmom and stepsister are,” she answered, biting her lip. She wanted to tell her dad everything—about Neil’s abuse and the way his family walked on eggshells around him, about how Billy shrank in on himself, flinching at nothing more than a sharp look or word from his father, but she hesitated. What good would it do? What could her dad even do about it? And how would Billy react? His embarrassment at the situation was obvious. Would telling her father just make things worse?
David frowned at Win’s sudden silence. “You okay?” he asked, ducking his head to peer at her suspiciously.
“Y-yeah, I was just… thinking,” she replied disjointedly, quickly clearing her throat and throwing one plate in the microwave.
“I’m gunna change, I’ll be right back,” she said, retreating to her room. Once she pressed her back to the door, she let her frustrated tears fall.
⇾ taglist. @b1tchywheeler @super-unpredictable98 @santacarlahorrorshow @oliver-sykes @wherethewitchersare @elliethesuperfruitlover
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x oc#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove fanfiction#oc: win lewis#otp: lewgrove#fic: i don't think you notice#joz.fic
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
MetalSandwich Movie Mania
Free Genre Movie Day: The Breakfast Club
Sometimes Billy wondered how the hell schools got away with the concept of weekend detention. It wasn’t like any of the administrators wanted to be there any more than the students. But somehow they managed to get the vice principal to give up what was probably a pathetic excuse for a Saturday to watch a bunch of teenagers who didn’t want to be there any more than he did.
The only reason Billy was even showing up was because if Neil heard from the school he’d skipped out on detention then it’d be a lot more than just a Saturday that he was giving up. He didn’t even deserve to be in it - so what if he’d finally given in and hit Hagan when he’d made yet another comment about Eddie? Hagan was an ass and it didn’t matter that he didn’t know Eddie was one of Billy’s boyfriends; he shouldn’t have been spouting shit like that.
So Billy plopped down at a table in the back after sending a quick smile to Eddie who was sitting at the other one and playing with his hair. How the hell Eddie had managed to get up, dressed, apparently functional, and to the school by 7am was a magic trick Billy would love to see. At least Eddie was there too which would make it more bearable. Probably got distracted during class again while planning his next D&D campaign.
“How long is this hell again Munson?” Billy asked, already thinking about going home with Eddie after to his trailer and spending a lazy Saturday evening getting high and cuddling.
“Nine hours.” Eddie rocked back on his chair, twisting his fingers in his hair as he stared at the ceiling.
Not that Billy wanted to cuddle during their down time; Eddie was the clingy one. Steve too. And speak of the devil.
“How’d the great King Steve end up here with all us peasants?” Billy couldn’t help it. He loved ribbing Steve, riling him up to see that flush on his face. It always made the sex better too.
“Fuck off Hargrove.” There was no real heat behind Steve's words - in fact, Billy could see the way Steve's eyes were soft.
“What, sad to be down off your throne?”
The vice principal strutted in, late for his own detention. What did that say about how stupid it was? “Well well well. Congratulations on being on time. It’s 7:06 so you have exactly 8 hours and 54 minutes to think about why you’re in here and ponder the errors of your ways. You may not talk. You will not move from these seats. And you will not sleep. Alright people, we're going to try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay of no less than a thousand words describing to me who you think you are. Questions? No? Good.”
And then their vice principal fucked right back off to his office.
Billy huffed. He’d write the damn essay just so Neil didn’t hear about it but good luck getting a bunch of teenagers to not talk or move for almost nine hours. And besides, they were in the library. Plenty of book stacks where he and Steve and Eddie could sneak off to. Maybe detention wouldn’t be that bad.
#MetalSandwichMovies23#Metalsandwich#Harringroveson#Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington#Billy Hargrove#Stranger things#stranger things fic#ficlet#fic#the breakfast club
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Raven King - Chapter Three
Day: Friday, September 1st
Time: 12:48 PM EST
"What is going on?" Kevin asked. "You can't last a full game without your medicine."
“No, probably not." Andrew sounded far too cheerful for someone who was going to spend half of his night in serious discomfort.
"He's done it once before," Matt said.
"Yeah, last October." Nicky didn't look up from where he was stuffing things into his duffel, but he was grinning as he told his story. "We found out the ERC was going to cut us from the Class I ranks if we didn't stop losing. Coach asked Andrew for a miracle, and Andrew gave us one. He made Coach come up with a number between one and five, and that's how many points he let the other team get before he shut them out. It was probably the most badass thing I've ever seen.”
If his words were supposed to make Kevin feel better about Andrew's chances tonight, they achieved the exact opposite. Kevin's face was a thundercloud.
"So you'll try," Kevin said through gritted teeth, "because Coach asked you to."
Andrew folded his arms across his knees, tilted his head back, and smiled up at Kevin. "Careful, Kevin. Your jealous streak is showing."
"For eight months you've told me no. In eight seconds you told him yes. Why?"
"Oh, that's easy." Andrew stuffed the last of his gear into his bag and zipped it shut. He slung the bag over his shoulders and got to his feet, standing up so close to Kevin he almost knocked Kevin back a step. "It's just more fun to tell you no. That's what you wanted, right? You wanted me to have fun. I am. Aren't you?"
For someone so small, Andrew made a lot of noise when shoved into the lockers. Andrew was laughing as he crashed into the orange metal. Neil didn't know what amused Andrew more: Kevin's violence or the splash of blood that now stained the front of Kevin's shirt. Neil hadn't even seen Andrew take a knife out, but it was “in his hand in the air between them. Kevin retreated from Andrew with a sharp curse.
"Jesus, Andrew!" Matt said. "Kevin, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Kevin put a hand to his chest as if checking the truth of his words. Andrew stepped away from the lockers and got in Kevin's space again. He put the edge of the blade against Kevin's chest over his heart and peered up into Kevin's face. Kevin looked more angry than intimidated as he stared back. Matt started
toward them, maybe thinking he had to break up round two of their fight. Kevin didn't look away from Andrew when he motioned at Matt to back off. Matt didn't stop until he was within lunging distance.
There he waited, still and tense, for one of them to make the wrong move. After he'd gone still, Andrew spoke again.
"Kevin, Kevin. So predictable. So pathetic. How about a tip? A reward for all your hard work, or something. Ready? You'll start having more success when you ask for things you can actually have."
"I can have this," Kevin said, voice thick with frustration. "You're just being stupid."
"I guess we'll see, but don't say I didn't warn you!”
Art used with permission by Rainbowd00dles. Thank you @rainbowd00dles !
#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#trk#the raven king#the foxhole court#andrew minyard#palmetto state university#psu foxes#andreil#on this day in aftg#otdiaftg#palmetto state foxes#otdi all for the game#nora sakavic#the foxes#on this day in all for the game#kevin day#nicky hemmick#aaron minyard#coach wymack#betsy dobson#abby winfield#matt boyd#dan wilds#renee walker#allison reynolds#artists#rainbowdoodles
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
was always firmly on the what the fuck was billy’s mum thinking abandoning billy with neil train etc but then dacre went and opened his big mouth at that one con and said the they moved to hawkins to keep billy and his mum seperate and then [gestures vaguely to everything else he’s said about billy and his mum] so obviously my mind was like. okay well now i need to know everything. i need that backstory. and we’re never gonna get it until dacre drops the 237 hour long Life of Billy documentary. so for now we are just grasping at straws, and this straw i could not un-grasp. i hate myself.
anyway.
billy's mom leaving, not by choice, but by force.
her and neil started with a whirlwind romance, neil with his clean cut up bringing and military service. her from the wrong side of the tracks, running wild and free, happy to be neil's spot of rough for a few weeks.
but then weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. neil stopping by to see her, and only her, when he was home on leave, and she felt so fucking special because of it. it didn't even matter on the days he got quiet, withdrawn, mad. he always came home to her.
she could deal with anything, everything, as long as he chose her.
loved her.
she was barely 22 when she found out about the baby, and suddenly the walls were closing in, and neil was ringing around and organising a wedding, and the feeling of trapped set in permanently.
she tried so hard to make it work, but her own parents were barely existent, and neil's parents had frowned upon her since the moment they met her, and any hope she had for role model options of an upstanding mother and wife had been dashed before she even knew she needed them.
but then billy was born, and he was in her arms, and she promised herself that she would never give up, that she would try, and they'd both make it out of this alive.
neil was gone a lot for the early parts of billy's life, leaving just her and her son alone, and slowly the trapped feeling started lifting, leaving behind nothing but love.
she was there for his first smile, was the first one to make him laugh, was there to watch him take his first steps, there to watch him take off running. heard his first word, and then every word after that. neil popped in and out, coming and going between tours, but billy was a mumma's boy through and through, and neil could never bond with him the way she could.
he tried, she'll give him that, but all efforts were quickly given up on, and it wasn't long before neil started in on being the firm parent, talking about how some kids just needed some tough love. stating that there was no reason billy should need to be sung to sleep anymore, that he was 2 years old, he should be putting himself to sleep by now, staying in his own bed the entire night. that he should eat all the food on the plate in front of him, and if he doesn't, then he can go to bed hungry. that tantrums and meltdowns and wrong doing's need more than a simple time out, that's the only way he'll learn.
and then neil would disappear again, and it would just be her and her little boy, and he'd sleep in bed with her all night, and he'd get dessert even when he didn't finish his dinner, cos 'no one likes carrots, baby, i just thought i'd let you try them', and when he draw on the wall with markers he wasn't meant to play with, she talked him through what was wrong, put him on time out, and then they went secondhand shopping for old used couches to cover up that section of wall.
neil never found out.
but then she gets the call, and her chest freezes, her hands white-knuckling the phone cord, because neil's coming home, and this time he's not leaving.
he's coming back for good.
she puts on a brave face, and makes the most of the last few days of peace with billy while she can. spending every moment she can with him by the water, spinning around and playing in the sun, walking to and from the beach on their usual route, billy having the corner shop owner wrapped around his little finger and getting a free lolly each trip.
doing her best to prepare for whats next, promising herself that no matter what, she can handle it. that for billy, she can handle anything.
except then neil's home, and he's everywhere. he has opinions on everything, and nothing she does is right, nothing billy does is okay, and neil use to sometimes be mad, but now he's angry. he's angry at the military for writing him off over an injury he claims he could've walked off, he's angry at her for fucking up their son, he's angry at billy for being a child, he's angry at the entire fucking world.
the first time he hit her, they weren't married. billy wasn't even a thought. she let it go, thinking it was just a one off, a heat of the moment thing, brought out only because of their fight. and after months of no repeats, she figured she was right to let it go. but then it happened again, just before she found out about billy. then again, just after. again, just before billy's arrival, again, just after, again, and again, and again. but she never worried too much, because neil always left, and she always had a count down, a light at the end of the tunnel, a fail safe.
then she didn't, and neil was back, for better or for worse, and there wasn't anything she could do.
but she tried. he got angry, and she tried with everything she had to make sure billy was safe, that it was just her that got hurt. that billy would never know this side of his father. but as billy got older, and as neil got colder, firmer, she could only protect him from so much.
it felt like she was holding him, just a baby a few hours old in her arms one moment, then she blinked, and suddenly he was six, and scared, and so so brave, running at neil to try protect her, trying to tackle him to the ground.
her and neil's fights got louder, more frequent, more physical, and billy got quieter, more withdrawn, terrified.
the fight that broke them was over billy, naturally.
she came home from a shift from a local little clothes boutique where she'd picked up some part time work, only to find billy sitting at the kitchen table, head down, sniffling, doing his homework, and neil standing at the stove and stirring a pot, his eyes never leaving his son, looking at him the same way he looks at her when she accidentally fucks up dinner.
"you okay, honey?" she asks as she cards her hand through his hair. he sniffles again but nods, still not looking up.
she doesn't believe him even for a second, but she knows what it's like to have neil's weighted stare sitting on you, so she lets it go for the moment and leaves to get changed.
when she comes back, neil's finally turned around and focused on the stove, and billy's packing away his maths worksheets. she sits in the chair beside him and resumes running her hand through his hair.
"how was your day, baby?" she asks softly.
billy finally looks up at her, and the second her eyes land on the marks around his neck, the dried tear tracks all over his cheeks, his damp and shiny eyes, and the wince he doesn't even think to hide when he shrugs, she's out of her chair and grabbing neil by the arm and spinning him around within the second.
"what the fuck did you do?" she hisses at him, and neil has the nerve to continue fixing dinner, like their son isn't in pain, crying, just a few feet away from them at that very second.
"he needs to grow up, no more childish games. no more kid stuff," neil replies calmly, like billy isn't an actual child.
"he's six!" she stresses, because he is six, he's just a baby. he's her baby.
"he's old enough now to not-," neil starts, before getting cut off with-
"he's a child!"
"he doesn't need-"
"he is a kid! he is just a child, neil!" she yells, and part of her's worried about scaring billy, but neil hurt him. neil can lay his hands on her all he wants, but billy's always been off limits.
until today, apparently.
"he's our child- my child! you can not fucking touch him, ever."
it escalates, as all their arguments do, and before she realises what she's saying, she's threatening to leave, to take billy and never turn back. it’s not the first time she’s said it, but this time it feels right, feels like something finally settles into place.
neil waits calmly for her to finish her tirade before bringing reality down.
"you're gonna take my son away from me, huh? and what judge, in their right mind, would leave billy with you, a mother who can't even hold down a full time job, with a police record, and barely a handful of savings."
neil waits her out while she scrambles to find an answer, but that trapped feeling she had all those years ago comes back full force, and the only thing tethering her is billy, whose come up behind her and has buried his face into the small of her back, his hand gripping hers.
"i'm his mother," she breathes out, "courts favour the mother," she settles on, even though she knows that if this ended up in court, neil would fight her every step of the way, and a sinking feeling in her gut tells her he would win.
he always wins.
in the end, it's neil that takes her to court.
it's barely a custody battle. neil's always been good at putting on a show, winning over a crowd, turning on the charm. it doesn't seem to matter that she's the mother, that she finally landed a stable full-time job, that billy wants to stay with her. neil talks, and twists stories, paints an entirely different picture of their home life and situation than the reality; before she knows, he has everyone eating out of the palm of his hand before she can even try rebuttal anything.
he's given full time custody.
she's given nothing, not even contact, unless approved by neil himself.
neil never approves.
billy sneaks one call in though, because he's just like her, and he never gives up.
her heart feels like it’s breaking right down the middle, never to be repaired, and she knows he's too young to understand or comprehend, but she doesn't know how to explain to him the gravity of the situation. doesn't know how to tell him that if someone found out they made contact, that her chances of overruling the court order could be jeopardised. so she takes a page out of neils book, even though it tastes like acid in her mouth and makes her cry herself to sleep, and makes her voice as firm as it can go, tell's him that she had to go, to not call her again.
she'll hear billy crying 'i don't understand!' until the day she dies, she knows.
she works and fights for years. learns more about divorce and the child's court system than she ever expected to know, and tries everything she can to finally see him again. has long since moved on from the pipe dream of full custody, and is now just trying for visitation rights.
slowly, she gets somewhere. unfortunately, everything she gets approved for has to go through neil first, and neil blocks her at every turn. he answers every call, and hangs up every time. all letters are returned, unopened, never making it to billy's hands.
(billy completely unaware of everything. forbidden to answer the phone, never seeing any mail addressed to him. isn't even aware that his parents are even in contact, let alone at war.)
before she knows it, he's lived more life without her than with her, she's missed more birthdays with him than celebrated, and soon he won't even legally be a child.
sometimes she thinks maybe if she just waits ‘til he's legally an adult, then she can try reach out, and neil won't have any leg to stand on. her and billy will be free. but then she remembers neil, she remembers how he tried to raise him, how the purpose of this arrangement wasn't for neil's benefit, but for her and billy's punishment's. she remembers billy's voice on the phone, crying, begging her to take him too.
she promised herself she wouldn't give up, and she won't.
she writes him another letter, but instead of folding it up and putting it in an envelope, hargrove residence address dotted on the front, she simply folds the piece of paper, writes 'for billy' on the outside, and calls in an old family friend. someone that was around in the early days of her and neil, close enough to still probably be in town, but distant enough to hopefully not be too chummy with neil. it's risky, but she's desperate.
luck seems to be on her side though, because she barely explains the situation before he's nodding along and taking the note. promises her that he'll have it delivered asap; neil won't know a thing.
she hugs him and thanks him repeatedly before she sits and waits. takes a moment to think about how this might take more than a few hours, but like fuck is she gonna miss whatever happens next.
-
billy and max are hanging out at the skate park on a sunny as fuck day when it happens. billy's sitting at the top of the half pipe, legs dangling over the edge while he has a smoke, when he hears his name get called out. he looks over to see some old guy trying to get his attention, nodding his head over and holding up a piece of paper, and billy's two seconds away from telling him to fuck off, except he looks vaguely familiar in a distant kind of way, and billy kinda wants to know what the fucks up. he grabs his board before sliding down and cautiously walking over, glaring at the guy holding out the letter. billy reaches out and grabs it.
"good luck, kid," the guy says, then walks away.
"the fuck?" billy stares after him as he goes, then looks back down at the letter in his hand. he flips it over and reads the neat and cursive 'for billy' on the front, the flips it open.
max takes one look at his face, which has lost all it's colour, and chooses that moment to wander over and try to casually take a peek. the second he realises he's got an audience, he quickly shoves the note into his pocket and wipes a hand over his face, quickly pulling himself together.
"fuck off, shitbird," he basically growls.
max levels him with a glare but takes off on her board, rolling her eyes at his dramatics. she didn't even get a chance to read a single word.
billy shoots a look at a bunch of middle schoolers hogging a park bench that’s mostly secluded, and after they all flee, takes a seat to read the letter properly in peace.
the letter doesn't say too much, just that his mom's fighting for him, and she's never stopped fighting for him. that she loves him, and she's sorry it's taken her so long, and that she promises, soon, they'll see each other again, if that's something he still wants.
it's been 9 years, give or take, since he's seen his mom, and the longer it's drawn out, the angrier he's got. he's well aware he's got abandonment issues, and he's pretty sure they all started with her, from the very second she told him to stop calling her, and they’ve only grown with every second she hasn't been in contact since.
but the second he reads the letter, the moment 'i've never stopped fighting for you' digs and etches itself onto his brain, the anger he has just drains out of him, and suddenly he's seven years old again, desperate to see her.
he folds the note as small as he can, and slips it in the smaller hidden pocket of his jeans that he's never known a function for, and guards that pocket like it's his only hope. scrubs at his face with his hands to make sure there's no evidence of any tears, and schools his face into the usual scowl.
he hangs back and chills on the bench until max is ready to go, in absolutely no hurry to get home, then spends the entire trip back ignoring her and her 50 questions. max gets pissed pretty quickly with the silent treatment, and within two blocks has turned the silent treatment back on him.
later on, while billy’s finishing a late assignment under neil’s watchful gaze and max is helping her mom out in the kitchen, things fall apart.
susan asks how max’s day was, and before billy can even attempt to signal for her to keep her mouth shut, she’s telling her mom about the weird guy giving billy letters at the park. susan turns to him and starts talking about stranger danger and accepting things from people he doesn’t know in public places, and billy has no choice but to nod along and agree. he casts a glance over at his dad and finds him looking straight at him.
billy swallows and wipes his hands on his jeans before trying to focus back on his school work and prays his dad will drop it.
billy’s never that lucky.
he hears his dad stand up slowly from his armchair and make his way towards the kitchen.
“what’s this about a letter?” neil asks casually, walking up to the table.
billy glances at max and susan, then back to his dad.
“nothing,” billy grips his pencil tightly and makes sure his voice keeps steady. “just some guy trying to get people to go to his band’s gig. he handed out flyers to the whole skatepark.”
he makes sure to not break eye contact and hopes it’s enough.
“he called you by name, and you were the only one who got a note,” max points out, looking at billy like he’s lost his mind. billy kinda wants to fucking strangle her. he swallows, and continues to keep eye contact with neil.
“most guys know my name there, it was noth-”
“where is it?” neil cuts him off.
“where’s what?” playing dumb hasn’t really worked for him before, but billy’s willing to try again.
“where’s the letter, billy.” neil’s not asking anymore. billy can feel his palms getting clammy.
“i threw it out.” billy wishes his voice didn’t waver, that he could keep his shit together, but he can feel himself breaking under the weight.
neil looks at him for a second longer before walking with purpose straight to billy’s room. billy quickly pushes his chair out and follows him, almost running into his back when neil stops dead in the doorway.
“you tell me where the letter is, or i tear apart this room until i find it. your choice, son,” neil doesn’t even bother turning around to say it to his face.
billy closes his eyes and thinks about the letter currently burning a hole in his pocket, ‘i’ve never stopped fighting for you’ flashing in his memory, and suddenly the anger that left him earlier is back full force.
“I don’t. fucking. have it,” he spits out.
neil finally turns to him and raises an eyebrow, a silent ‘you sure you wanna do this’ look, and- fuck it. his mom basically fucking hand delivered a letter to him just to tell him that she’s still out there, and she’s coming for him.
billy just raises an eyebrow back then throws his arms out in a ‘be my guest’ gesture. takes a step back so he can lean against the doorway and watch.
neil upturns everything he can get his hands on, breaks his flimsy bedside table, rips the sheets off his bed, empties out all his drawers, pulls out all his clothes. throws all his records and knickknacks on the ground. comes up empty.
billy can feel the anger running through his veins, watching his dad destroy his room and all his possessions. max and susan have came over to see what the commotion’s about and are watching on in horror.
“give me the letter, billy,” neil says slowly, breathing heavily, getting right up in billy’s space, “now.”
billy looks him dead in the eye.
“no,” he breathes out, no hesitation.
“give me the letter, now, billy!” neil slams his hand against the doorway, just above billy’s head, finally losing any calm he had.
"no," he repeats, leaning right back into his dads space, a half feral smile starting to spread across his face. his dad's so fucking mad. billy usually doesn't get this far under his skin on purpose, but god it feels good to be in control for once.
neil slides a hand down his face and takes a deep breath before straightening up, focusing back on his son.
"give me your car keys," neil says, holding his hand out expectantly.
billy grinds his jaw before reaching a hand around and grabbing his keys from the shelf by the door, smacking them down in neil's hands.
neil shoves past him and makes his way outside, the whole family following. billy catches sight of max's face, her wide eyes, and clenches his hands at his sides. if she had just kept her fucking mouth shut.
by the time billy and the girls make it out the front, neil's already tore into every compartment of his car.
"i told you, i don't have it," billy repeats again.
"neil, honey, he say's he doesn't have it, maybe-," susan tries, but neil's not having it.
"empty your pockets," neil says, climbing out of the camaro and walking right up to billy, leaving barely a space between them.
"empty. your. pockets," he repeats, slowly, quietly, dead calm.
billy lifts his chin a bit, glaring defiantly, but he can feel his heart pick up the pace, and sweat start to gather on his forehead.
he empties his pockets.
places his pack of smokes, his lighter, a two day old receipt, and a ring that he took off earlier onto his dads hands. waits.
neil looks down at what billy's discarded and silently fumes. billy clenches his jaw, then breathes out a quiet, "i don't have it."
his father holds his gaze before nodding.
"okay."
he moves past billy, past susan and max, and heads back to his armchair.
"fix up your room, it's a mess," then looks at susan and gestures to the fridge. she instantly gets the message and quickly moves to grab him out a beer.
max looks between them all like she doesn't understand what just happened, and billy can't fucking deal with this. he heads back to his room, getting ready to try salvage what he can.
doesn’t dare bring the letter out from its hiding spot, doesn’t even touch a hand to that pocket, just in case his dad can just sense it.
thinks, prays, that that’ll be the end of it. that neil would actually let it go.
he should’ve known better.
they sit down for dinner the next night, and no one’s mentioning what happened yesterday, but it’s sitting heavily in the air. max still looks like she’s trying to figure out what the fuck happened, susan looks like she’s trying to pretend everything’s normal, like nothing’s out of the ordinary, and his dad digs into his food like he does every other night, like he didn’t lose his absolute shit the night before. billy falls for it, believing for just a few minutes that his dad’s moved past it.
it’s when his dad’s finished his dinner that the other shoe finally drops.
“i talked to my boss today,” he starts, “and there’s a job opening in a different warehouse. we leave on friday.”
susan looks speechless, and max looks livid, but billy can feel the floor slipping out from underneath him.
“neil. what-” susan starts, before trailing off uselessly, before finally picking her next question. “where?”
“hawkins,” neil responds, wiping at his face with a cloth before pushing his plate away, “indiana.”
“what the fuck?” billy drops his knife and fork and throws a hand out, “indiana?”
“indiana? indiana?” max yells, completely disregarding neil and throwing all her anger at her mother.
“neil, we should talk about this, i mean-” susan tries, but falls silent when neil shoots her a look.
“we move,” he levels them all with a look, one at a time, “on friday. no questions.”
“what about my dad? what about my friends?” max bites out, levelling neil a look right back.
billy feels like he can’t fucking breathe, wants to tell her that neil doesn’t give a flying fuck about her dad, couldn’t care less about keeping them separated - just look at the situation they’re in now - but theres a lump in his throat, and he doesn’t think he could talk right now if he tried.
“phones exist, maxine” neil responds, ending the conversation there and then, pushing his chair out and heading to the living room.
susan has her head in her hands but quickly picks herself up and tries to do damage control with max, even if max doesn’t seem to be having a bar of it.
billy’s fucking shaking. doesn’t even know where to begin to fix this. there was no phone number in the letter, no forwarding address, no contact information. just his mom telling him she’s trying, she’s doing everything she can.
there’s only gonna be so much she can do if neil drags him half way across the fucking country.
he’s only had the hope of his mother coming back into his life for just over a day and he’s already grown so attached to the idea that the thought of it no longer happening has him spiralling in ways he’s never felt before.
fuck.
(they move on the friday. arrive on a sunday. billy builds his new room from the ground up, his bed frame and mattress along side a few items of clothes and bedside table objects being the only survivors of neils rampage. everything else he improvises or goes without.
him and max are on the outs. billy unable to see past his own rage and grief, and so so quick to blame, and max just as angry and emotional as he is, but with only half the picture, fully ready to give it right back.
billy hoping and praying that somehow, his mum figured out that neil moved them. that she knows where he is, how to find him. but the longer he goes without another letter, the more it sinks in that it’s too late. the small window they had is closed.
neil watches him like a hawk now, makes him chauffeur max around town, keeps on top of him about his grades, his extra curricular activities. their new house in hawkins is bigger, but billy’s never felt so trapped.
max has a bat in her hands, and billy was standing, but now he’s on the floor, and there’s other kids around cheering her on, there’s blood on his hands, and this isn’t the night billy had planned, but this is the night billy got. he listens to her tell him to stay away, watches as she swings the bat, hears her yell ‘say it’, can feel whatever the fuck she injected him with running though his veins, and wants to scream.
he didn’t realise how much of neil got to her, too. wishes neil got to her in the same way he got to him, that she would just fucking understand, then hates himself for it.
that’s the one thing that him and sue can agree on, that max stays out of it.
they settle on a truce eventually. billy so fucking tired, can’t hold onto the constant anger anymore, and max never really knowing the real reason they were fighting to begin with. the older she gets, the more of the picture she sees, but they never show her all the colours, and she’s already discovered her own monsters in this town, she can’t handle the idea of them living in her own home, so she tries her hardest to look the other way.
it’s not easy though, and it doesn’t take much for the illusion to shatter.
her and billy going from having a truce, to having an actual understanding. she’s still none the wiser about his mother, and billy’s never gonna just open up and spill his guts, but she knows enough. has had one or two of her own run-ins with neil. knows how to read the room now from the second she steps in the house, the way billy’s always been able to.
he’s not actually that bad of a brother to have, now that she’s finally getting to know him.
that’s the only thought going though her head, when she watches him stand up to the mindflayer.
she watches him take on an inter-dimensional monster, a monster that el can only fight with her supernatural powers, that will had to get burned out of him, a monster that can tear apart the literal fabric of the universe, and thinks, he was never actually that bad of brother, when she finally started to understand him.
sees him use nothing but his bare hands to fight back, to save el and her, to save all of them, and wants to throw up. her minds screaming at her to run towards him, to pull him away, for them all to run, but she can’t fucking move, all she can do is watch.
the monster finally falls, but so does billy, and when max’s feet finally find movement, she’s running to his side as fast as she can. she begs and pleads and cries, trying so fucking hard to help get him through this, but all he does is look at her, tears in his eyes and and covered in blood, and chokes out an i’m sorry.
max feels his last breath leave him, and feels the second his heart stops beating and thinks, i’ll never get the chance to fully know him, now.
billy’s written out to be a hero in the local news reports, saving them all from a tragic fire, and everyone around town offers their condolences every chance they get. max wants to hit something. she dreads going out, doesn’t wanna see a single pitying look. has stopped answering the front door, doesn’t wanna eat another fucking casserole from patricia, who lives two houses down, who’s married to harry, who accused billy of stealing his garden shit like once a fucking week, getting billy in the shit with neil, constantly.
a month passes, and things are tense. neil’s drinking more than ever, having lost his job just two days after billy’s funeral. her mum’s trying to keep things together, but there’s only so much she can do when nobody else is willing.
max sure as fuck isn’t about to try and play happy families.
it’s on a thursday night when the doorbell rings, and max tightens the grip on her fork.
“you’d think they’d have run out of recipes to try on us,” max mutters dully, before shoving some mash potato in her mouth.
“ignore it,” neil says to susan, completely disregarding max, before going back to his own dinner.
the doorbell rings again, and then again a third time, and a fourth time. susan grows tenser with every bell that chimes, and max looks between both adults, waiting to see who’ll break first.
neil slams his knife and fork down on the table before shoving his chair out and storming towards the door, ripping it open. susan follows quickly, and max rolls her eyes before following as well. it’s been at least a week since the last neighbour tried to shove food at them, and maybe it might be some baked goods from mrs. taylor this time. at least she can actually bake.
max doesn’t recognise the person at the front door, but it’s clear neil does.
she has long wavy blonde hair, terrified eyes, and looks like she’s ready to go to war.
“where is he?” she asks, her arms folded and hands white knuckling in their grip. “he’s eighteen now, you can’t keep me away.”
max feels her stomach sink.
“he’s been eighteen for months now,” neil says back, monotonous.
max watches the terrified look get overshadowed by anger.
“do you have any idea how long it took me to find you, to find him, after you up and left?” she takes a stop forward and throws a hand out, giving neil a filthy look before breathing out and looking away.
her eyes have turned to water, and max watches as she wipes at her eyes the exact same way billy did when neil got him to turn to water at the kitchen table.
“well,” neil starts, some emotion creeping back into his voice, “you’re too fucking late.”
neil slams the door in her face.)
(billy’s mum sticks around, because she refuses to leave without answers, not after searching for her baby for almost eleven years, and now, finally getting so fucking close she could touch.
she can’t touch, though, because there’s six feet of earth between them. her baby boy’s in a wooden box, buried deep underground, with dead flowers at his grave- flowers that have probably been there since the day of his funeral - because no one’s been to visit him.
she touches his headstone gently, traces the words ‘gone but not forgotten’ with her fingertips, and she’s spent the entire time since susan tried to brokenly explain everything denying it, but right here, looking at his grave, she can’t anymore. once the first tear slips, they don’t stop.
susan stands a small distance away, max just beside her, and feels the guilt and smallest hint of relief crush her.
guilt at never knowing who this person was, never even knowing she was trying to reach out. guilt for accepting everything neil every told her without question or fight. guilt for every occasion she looked the other way, the way she complied every time neil said he’d parent his son, and she’d parent her daughter.
guilt at the bone-deep relief that it’s billy in the grave, and not max.
susan still doesn’t know what happened for sure that night, all the details never quite adding up, but the only solid thing max would give her was that billy saved her. billy died to save them all.
one time, susan spent some of their savings on fixing the kitchen sink. when neil got home and saw the little money jar on the bench emptier than when he’d left for work, he instantly accused billy. it has been the last day of school that day, with no commitments to be at for at least a week.
neil didn’t hold back.
billy tried to reason that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and steal money from the extremely obvious savings jar, especially when he already had a job and income of his own, but the more billy denied it, the angrier neil got.
neil didn’t get violent with billy in front of her often, but he seemed to be on a hair trigger that night, and susan didn’t know where to even begin to try stop it.
she tried to step in gently, to tell neil that it was her, that the sink needed some maintenance. he didn’t listen to a word she said. she gave up without a fight.
it wasn’t until later that night that susan found out that neil’d got his second warning at work, one more warning and he’d be fired. he claimed he didn’t deserve the warnings, that saving money didn’t mean cutting corners, just meant he knew how to do his job efficiently. his boss didn’t agree.
she tried to justify it to herself that billy probably would’ve copped it that night either way.
billy came out to the kitchen the next morning with a swollen face and a barely noticeable limp and got himself a glass of water. turned the tap on with extra force since it’d been fucking up lately, only for it to turn on without any effort at all, no noise or clunks either. he turned to look at susan, look at the money jar, then clenched his jaw and abandoned his still full cup in the sink, and locked himself up in his room, his music blaring just a second later.
he barely acknowledged her for a week.
now, as she stands back and watches his mother weep, she thinks she may never be able to forgive herself.
thinks that if someone ripped max away from her, and she finally found her again after searching for basically max’s entire life, only to find her in a casket, after living with someone so spineless they couldn’t even protect her, that she would never be okay again.)
(max not knowing how to talk to billy’s mum. leaving the room every time she enters it. not knowing how to handle the fact that she’s alive, and billy’s dead, and she just stood back and watched.
just wanting to go to sleep and never wake up on the nights she stays up too late thinking about how she stood by and watched him die a slower and more painful death long before the mind flayer ever came into the picture.
billy’s mum’s not having it, is the thing.
she’s read the articles, listened to the towns people talk. heard all praise about her sons heroics as well as the quiet re-tellings of his delinquent ways. listened to the whispers about his reckless california driving, his dangerous and careless attitude, only for them to paste a sympathetic smile on their face when she rounds the corner, muttering about how he died too young, was taken too soon. the police telling her how this town lost a lot of people that night, but her sons final actions saved more than he could ever know, except they say his name like they’re pushing it through gritted teeth, and she wants to scream. her baby boy died to save his little sister and her friends, and this town will never forgive him for being the teenager he was raised to be.
she tries so fucking hard to talk to max at every given chance, just so she can hear about him though her eyes.
max cracks eventually. she leans into the part of her that billy carved out and shaped himself, the side of her that jumps straight to anger and rage and disbelief. yells at his mum for leaving him in the first place, of fucking up her only son beyond belief, then after watching his mum take it so fucking gracefully and so fucking deeply, turning on herself. spits out about how much of a shit show this family really was. how she was just his shitty little sister. how they hated each other most days, and had only just started to get along. how she never should've been in that mall in the first place, and billy sure as hell shouldn’t have been there either. how he never should have died, especially the way he did, because he was never meant to be a part of it to begin with. how it’s her fault. how she could have, should have, saved him, but she froze up, because she was scared, she was fucking terrified, and so billy took it, and now he’s dead. and it’s all her fault.
when she finally looks back at his mum, there’s tears streaming down her face, and she has a hand over her mouth trying to stifle any sobs, but she’s still looking at max with such fucking soft eyes, and then she’s slowly walking towards her with her arms open wide, and max is falling into them and breaking down before she can think of running away.
billy’s mum carding a hand through her hair and telling her that it’s okay, that she’s gonna be okay, that it’s not her fault. starts telling her about how billy’s always been a do first, think later person, that he’s had the biggest heart she ever knew since the second he came into her life. how he use to try and protect her from neil, no matter the consequence. that he’s been protecting his family since before he even knew what it meant, or that he was even doing it. it was just how he was. how that’s how she knows max must’ve been important to him, because she still doesn’t quite know what happened in that fire, but she knows in her heart that billy knew exactly what he was doing in his last moments, and it was making sure max got home safely, and that’s probably all that mattered to him. that max made it home.
she was family to him, and therefore max was family to her.
she’s gonna spend the rest of her life with regrets and a sadness so deep that it’ll never be moved, but she got to meet the person, and the people, that billy died saving, and it’s never gonna be the same as the future she had dreamed about, the one she’s spent the past eleven years planning, but this is all she’s got. she’s gonna miss her son until her last breath, but she’s so so so fucking happy that billy had someone in his life that he cared about so deeply, he was willing to give it all up for her.)
(billy’s mum visiting his grave every chance she gets, and starting off every visit with an apology. telling him about the first time she held him in her arms, how he changed her life forever, and how she promised him that they’d both make it out of this life alive. how she’s so so so fucking sorry she failed him, and she was gonna spend the rest of her life making it up to him.
updating him on max and susan, about how neil left, just fucking walked out one day, taking most the money with him, but it’s okay, cos she offered up the spare room and the pull out couch in her trailer to them, and max is now claiming part time custody of the neighbours dog.
tells him about how max told her about the time he tried to teach her to surf, and she was so so so bad at it, but he kept dragging her out into the waves after spending what felt like hours on the shore teaching her the steps, and finally it clicked, and max still remembers the look on billy’s face the first time she caught her first wave. remembers how he fucking laughed at her when she inevitably wiped out.
tells him how susan seems to walk on eggshells around her, thanking her everyday for giving them a place to stay, and how once she’s back on her feet, they’ll be out of her hair. how she has her suspicions about why susan looks at her with such guilt in her eyes, but she knows what it’s like to be married to neil hargrove, and while there’s a part of her that’s so so so angry, she fucking gets it. she understands it in the most horrifying way possible, and she’s already made her peace with it.
she’s just so fucking sorry that billy spent so long thinking it was him against the world. that she abandoned him, that max had someone love her enough in the house to keep her safe, but billy believed he had no one.
she tells him that max gave her his jacket, and after not being able to hold it without crying for the first month, she finally had a proper look at it. how she found the note in a secret pocket on the inside of the chest. the letter she wrote to him, what feels like so long ago now, looking a little worse for wear, like it had been folded up and clenched tightly every single day, a couple of watermarks blurring some of the words. pulls out the only picture she has on him from when he was so so little, a toddler on her hip, them both grinning in the sun and sand. how its creased to hell and back and so fucking faded that you cant even tell the colour of her hat, but his smile lights up the picture anyway, and how most days, it was the only thing getting her through. how she hoped with everything she has that he was happy, but that if he wasn’t, that she gets it. and she’s so fucking sorry. and that one day, she’ll see him again, and she can’t fucking wait.)
#I DON't KNOW. can u tell ive never been divorced or had a custody battle over a child.#okay thats a lie. the parents of the kid i nannyd split and it got messy and i was asked to appear in count in favour of both but like. hmm#ANYWAY. modern au where his mum sends the letter earlier and drops her number#and billy fucking reaches out himself on his friends phone becos hes not stupid#and things are Tense and Awkward and Rough but they fucking TALK and billy gets his MOTHER and they have to talk in secret for SO LONG#becos neither of them is risking The Neil of It All when this line of communication they have is so fucking fragile#but then EVENTUALLY; after neil's dragged the family to hawkins; and billy and max have made their feelings about the choice Known#and after max has caught onto the fact that billy's in contact with his mum and is now billy's mum's honorary daughter#she comes to town! and billy IS alive.#AND! actually no the au of this is actually alive and kicking in my head and i cannot explain the vibe of it all through tags. i can't#anyway whatever idk what this is i'm sorry i'm SORRY#m#nqff
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic recs with Neil protecting/being there for Andrew cause that boy deserves it!
Identity Theft
The Foxes make a bet: will Neil really be able to tell Aaron and Andrew apart if Aaron is
deliberately impersonating his twin?
Or,
Aaron Minyard's adventures in identity theft.
One day we'll reveal the truth
“Is there a reason you don’t like Neil?” Bee asks him then and Aaron doesn’t understand
how the fuck they got onto this when she’s supposed to be fixing him and Andrew.
“I don’t trust him,” he says eventually. “All he’s done since he’s got here is cause trouble.”
“Well, a lot of that was out of Neil’s control,” Betsy reminds him evenly.
“That doesn’t suddenly make him a good person.”
“Watch him then.”
Aaron startles so much at Andrew’s voice he twists in his chair to stare at him. Andrew
hasn’t addressed him directly all day but he’s looking at Aaron now.
“You think he’s using me or trying to fuck me over or whatever’s going on in your head-
watch him. Watch us for the next week. Stop averting your gaze and pretending it doesn’t
exist and then I might listen to what you have to say.”
They Shouldn’t Have Done That [A Minyard-Josten Rivalry
Fic]
When two strikers try to attack Andrew, Neil gets mad. They shouldn’t have done that.
No, This is a Misunderstanding
The monsters run into Luther at Aaron's Trial. Luther has things to say. But Neil does too.
Lifeline
"What is your name." He wouldn't care usually, but the way this kid had avoided it last time
he asked, he was curious.
"I've had six so far." He answers slowly, weighing each word. "Which one do you want?"
Six names? Yep, there is something going on there.
"The real one. The one that fits you best."
"Not my birth name then?" He sounds almost hopeful?
Andrew waits until he sorts through his thoughts. He has another hour before he has to go
back.
"Abram." He decides after a long pause. "It's my middle name. The only one that doesn't
have to change because it can just as easily be left out."
I like this one a lot!
It's basically canon except Neil and Andrew have met before and so when Neil gets recruited by Wymack they already trust each other.
Or, what could've happened if Andrew had someone who cared for and protected him for once
Odd Eye
Andrew spends most of his childhood thinking he is a psychopath. He is not. Andrew is,
and always will be, just Andrew.
There's something about this fic that is just <3 I love the friendship between Andrew, Neil and Kevin (aka neurodivergent gang) in this fic!
***TW: Andrew goes through a bad depressive episode in this one, child abuse, self harm, child sexual abuse, and talk of/reference of past rape
#fanfiction#ao3#fanfic#fic rec#all for the game#aftg fic#andreil#andrew x neil#aftg neil#andrew minyard#aaron minyard#Protective Neil Josten#neurodivergent#Angst#angst with comfort#angst with a happy ending#angst with fluff#the foxes#childhood friends#slow burn#andreil fic rec#andreil fanfic#andriel#aftg fic rec#tfc fanfic#aftg trilogy
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
You guys want to hear my heavily Adhd fuelled bat shit crazy theory on what might have happened to God or how we might start to find them? Because it's a whole ass journey and I'm in the car now so might as well just see where the road takes me you know.
just bear with me OK.
A close friend of mine finally finished season 2 and we were theorizing. And while talking about all the very many things that were left open ended, she brings up Gabriel's prophecy. And I realize that shit Neil Gaiman you sly fox you had me actually forget that there was an entire prophecy!
So I start thinking of all the ways that someone could have actually made me, a person that loves spending an inexcusable amount of time dissecting anything that is even remotely prophetic, forget that it even happened. And I think, it was may be because the first and last (third) moments of real memory that Gabriel had are addressed and seemingly resolved soon after. So the second one, the middle child if you will, is kinda forgotten. So, after google searches trying to see if there are any theories out there about Gabriel's prophecy (because I haven't come across any on tumblr?? if there are theories out there please send them my way!) I decide to take matters into my own hands and go back into the episode. Then I noticed something and then something else and now I've rewatched all three moments several times and I was writing a post here comparing them when monkey brain started to make wilder connections and now here we are and I just need to get it out.
First Memory:
Gabriel 'quotes' God. Soon after Gabriel says those words Crowley says hey wasn't that what God said to Job and then we jump into the Job memory where we hear God say those words, albeit slightly different. God poses the sentence as a question, while Gabriel says it in the first person.
Things to note about this memory :
Gabriel's Purple eyes return.
You hear God's voice overlay-ed over Gabriel's
Not do you remember the morning stars..?, I remember the....
Gabriel is in a lot of pain, remembering hurts his brain.
He says "I can't remember those things, my head isn't big enough, not anymore".
The memory comes after he is pushed by Crowley to remember. This little point is not entirely relevant more just me continuing to die on the Crowley is Lucifer hill: I think it's significant that it was this particular line that was quoted and it was triggered right after Crowley asked "what is the very first thing you remember" and not when Aziraphale asked Gabriel the exact same question. and the line happened to have the phrase 'morning stars'.
Second "Memory":
Not a memory but a prophecy with a little drop of memory at the end.
"There will come a tempest. and darkness and great storms. and the dead will leave their graves and walk the earth once more. And there will be great lamentations. Everyday it's getting closer."
I don't know a lot of biblical lore but some of the word choices used are very significant and directly refers to moments of judgement and reckoning and the second coming. Tempest and great storms is maybe referencing Noah; the dead will leave their graves - the second coming? and then great lamentations - from the book of lamentations, ie destruction of Jerusalem - also a judgement day type situation right? Dissecting this prophecy was the entire reason I started on this but I've gone off-track now. If anyone does have more detailed theories on this though I am so interested!
[very sneaky to end the prophecy with everyday it's getting closer - a drop of something Gabriel - because that could be referencing just the second coming getting closer AND also be a little something that will help us slightly dismiss it. Because it puts the audience back in the mindset of the song and hey the song get's addressed right - what was the other stuff Gabriel was saying, eh it's probably not important]
Things to note about this moment:
Purple eyes
God's voice overlay
This is the only time Gabriel goes into this zone pre getting his memories back where he is not pushed into remembering. Crowley simply says the word 'tempest' and it triggers purple eyed god voiced Gabriel.
Gabriel is not in pain. He does not say it hurts to remember.
He also doesn't seem to know what happened : When he comes out of it, he seems to switch back into his body almost but not quite. He shakes his head a little and looks somewhat confused both by his surroundings and by Crowley standing in front of and staring. And in that same state of confusion he asks "who am I? What's happened to me?". And in theme of this season immediately after he says that, something flashy and distracting happens, this time in the form of Shax knocking on the window. And very suspiciously, in my opinion, the camera never shifts back to Gabriel again. We go from Shax at window to Crowley's reaction to Shax and then camera stays on Crowley and follows him out the door. We only see Gabriel again once Crowley returns to the bookshop. And Gabriel is back to testing Gravity.
Third Memory
This one is less 'violent'? in terms of Gabriel remembering. And everything Gabriel says is addressed in the next episode. He says his memory is in a matchbox, no he took it out and put it in a box and now it's... everywhere. He remembers the institutional problem bit. All these things come back and happen as he says and so again, the middle child is neglected.
But let's look at some things to note:
No purple eyes this time or God voice overlay
Continued references to it being painful to remember
He is like an empty house, something that once contained something
He is, essentially in this case, asked the right question by Crowley, a question direct enough that he can give a straight answer.
But the only thing that doesn't quite make sense is that when Crowley asks where are your memories now? Gabriel says 'Everywhere'. Which strikes me as a really odd thing to say about a fly. Even if it is the only thing that's not bound by gravity.
So what is my extremely taken liberties and am I high??? theory you ask?
It was not Gabriel that responded to Crowley - It was God or some part of them that is somehow contained within Gabriel (without his knowledge).
I did warn you this was insane.
It was not Do you remember the morning stars, but I remember the morning stars. And you hear their voice saying it. It strikes me as extremely odd that Gabriel would describe a memory that is supposedly his, that is supposedly his first memory using God's words. He even refers back to it during the conversation he has with Crowley in the third memory (where he remembers putting his memories in a matchbox). He says "like when I remembered how it all began" - but why would he have used that exact phrasing when he wasn't there to hear what God said to Job? Only Crowley and Aziraphale were there.
The prophecy moment was completely weird and Gabriel was not even Jim in that moment. By this point Gabriel was very decidedly inhabiting the roll of Jim - book shop assistant who is sometimes called Gabriel. And by this point he is also somewhat aware or had accepted that he was once this person called Gabriel. So why does he look so lost in that moment - like he wasn't Jim or Gabriel? Who am I? What has happened to me? Could it be someone else also inhabiting the body of Jim, sometimes called Gabriel???
He says an "empty house", a house can contain things, many things. We know that living things can be containers. If a fly can contain something as expansive and large as the memory of a supreme archangel and still be a fly; why wouldn't a supreme archangel be able to also hold the memory of God? or at least some of the memories of God? "my head isn't big enough, not anymore". That is such an odd thing to say. Because it didn't make sense I kept rationalizing it for some reason as Gabriel being human now so his head isn't big enough to contain or recall the memories of an angel. But that's ridiculous and completely wrong, obviously. He's still an angel, he just doesn't have his memory. So if his head (his house) is now empty, they how could it be too small to remember things?
Unless there was something else taking up space?
Where is your memory now? Everywhere. I know this this scene had no God voice, but 'my head is too big', and 'who am I, what's happened to me' all are said by Jim!Gabriel. Normal eyed. Everywhere is just again a thing that doesn't quite make sense in context. But what if that was again not in reference to the fly, but rather in reference to God. That their memory was... everywhere? Scattered for some reason or the other throughout the earth, in different beings, in angels or humans or flies even.
If God or a portion of God's memory is in Gabriel then Gabriel not being present in his own head would allow another's memory space to, I don't know... answer questions?
It's honestly probably doesn't make any sense but hey what a concept right lol if you made it all the way here thank you!
Also just a random little note, I thought it was just interesting that it was Crowley that was involved with any real leads on Gabriel's memory. Not just finding the files and figuring out he wrote a note on the box - but every time Gabriel had any real burts of memory or gave any real answers it was when Crowley asked and not when Aziraphale asked. I don't know if it was just pure coincidence but I just thought it was something of note!
k byyyyyeeeeeee
7 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
