After Starcourt and the whole holding off a meat monster thing, Billy's hands are too messed up to drive. Too shaky. Too prone to random flares of red-hot pain or ice-cold numbness to make it safe for him to be in charge of any kind of heavy machinery which, apparently, includes Susan's shitty hatchback.

So Steve offers him a ride to and from his physical therapy sessions.

Billy suspects that Max was the one who sorted out the arrangement, can't imagine King Steve offering his chauffeur services out of the goodness of his heart, especially not at eight in the fucking morning. But hey, the public transport in Hawkins sucks ass, so he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. And while the first ride is awkward- full of stilted conversations that peter out into uncomfortable silences- the second one isn't quite so bad. The third is almost pleasant, and by the fifth they've got a heated game of license plate spotting going. The sixth has them both singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody, Steve's attempts at the falsetto being the first thing to make Billy laugh in months. The seventh has Billy brandishing a tape of A Night at the Opera and insisting on a repeat performance, then regretting it when Steve keeps on replaying I'm in Love With My Car over and over again instead.

And from then on, it's good. Fun. Easy. A hell of a lot better than taking the bus.

Which is why Billy doesn't say anything when he gets cleared to drive. Because it's not like he has his own car any more so, really, it makes sense to keep shtum. That's what he tells himself, anyway, as he tries not to think about the fact that the half hour he gets in the car with Steve is easily the best part of his day. Hell, it's the best part of his entire week.

He doesn't know that Steve overheard Doc Owens giving Billy the all-clear weeks ago. Because Steve doesn't bring it up either. But he does start taking the scenic route home, with some hastily muttered excuse about the shitty traffic signals on Kerley.

And it works. For a bit. Billy gets an extended pocket of happiness. Steve warbles his way through the Queen back catalogue. Billy holds his tongue through I Was Born to Love You. It works.

But eventually there comes a point when Billy's discharged from hospital completely, when, right at the end of his session, the doctors inform him that there's nothing more they can really do for him. When, apparently, his broken body and messed up mind are considered good enough. And that's when he has to bite the damn bullet and swallow the bitter taste in his mouth, the reminder that Billy Hargrove never gets to keep a good thing for long, and tell Steve that he's got his Wednesday mornings back to himself now.

He holds it all in until they're back at Cherry Lane. Forgets about it, just for an hour, and lets himself have one more ride. One more easy conversation. One more bubble of laughing, smiling happiness.

And then he lets it all pop.

"So the good ol' doc says that was my last poke 'n prod visit. Looks like this is as good as it gets. So, yeah, you're a free man, Harrington. No more taxi service. Thanks, uh, thanks for...y'know. The help."

And Steve nods and he smiles. Warm and bright and genuine when he tells Billy that he's welcome. And then he makes some joke that Billy isn't listening to before driving away with little more a dorky little salute wave and his usual, "See you around, Hargrove."

And Billy doubts that. He doubts it very much.

But he does see Steve. Because Steve comes back. The next week, Wednesday morning, just like clockwork, Billy hears the familiar pip of a horn and he shuffles out of bed and pulls back the curtains and there he is, like he always has been. Harrington. Steve. Smiling. Waving. Waiting.

And Billy has to swallow that bitter pill again, but first he has to hold it in his mouth while he pulls on some pants and walks barefoot towards the Beemer and then he has to try not to let the bitterness colour his tone when he leans through the open passenger's side window and says, "Thought I told you, Stevie, I don't need a ride anymore."

And Billy knows it must just be a trick of the light, but he's pretty sure Steve's cheeks flush. Just for a second, he could've sworn that Steve looked sheepish. And he's pretty damn sure he must be dreaming when Steve smiles at him, soft and fond but a little nervous and says,

"I know, but...you still need breakfast, right? Cause, if you want? There's a diner, does this pancake platter thing with, like..."

But Billy's not really listening. Because there's a tape sitting on the passenger seat. Queen, again, but this one's brand new and still wrapped in shiny cellophane. Ready and waiting.

A Kind of Magic

Fitting. Billy thinks.

I have SO many thoughts about everything and they are in no kind of order yet, so here's just some quick little bits in the meantime!

I am not normal about any of these characters!

Michael doesn’t like his father in any FNAF universe..

we're at it again🕺

i love...wanpee...........🍊🍶🧡💚

Hi!! I don't know if anyone has drawn this before (sorry if they have!! I couldn't find any evidence of it) but I have recently been plagued with the question of "what if Machete and Vasco were in Bluey?"

Well. Now we know.

To my knowledge, the only Bluey dogs who wear clothes are the ones in uniforms. TECHNICALLY Machete's outfit could count, but I left it out because it's not typical of a main character. He must be naked 😔

.

20s vs 30s

best and perhaps realest part of dungeon meshi is sits down right away senshi

Pyromancers

You have to choose: whose lives are important to you?

In order to be a SOLDIER, you have to have dreams. And honor.

From the outside Eddie presents as a person with very little care for the opinions of others. This however is a shield, an armour class so high that no roll is beating him. Or so he likes to think. Truth is, it's shitty armour that would dissolve in water. But he can't let anyone know that. Needs to keep up appearances, needs to keep performing. 

This would all be fine if it weren't for the fact that Steve Harrington is aiming a metaphorical water pistol at his heart at point blank range. 

When did it start? Oh, who knows! 

Eddie knows, oh Eddie knows alright. Shamefully it wasn't even a mind-meltingly-he’s-so-hot-take-me-now moment that made Eddie's weevil brain latch onto the idea of Steve and never let go. No. It was during lunch period, because is there really a more romantic setting to have your heart shattered and reformed into the image of your new love? You see Eddie was attacked! Ambushed by his feelings! The traitors! He was mid conversation with Jeff about the best unconventional food combinations. Eddie was arguing for bananas with sliced cheese and was not being given a fair hearing on the matter when he turned his head at the most inopportune moment. The moment that ruined everything. Because in that head swivel Eddie saw Steve being Steve. He saw 'The Hair' without the mask. Steve had been tapped on the shoulder by one of his sport boys and had turned around to display a perfectly normal serious face. Except, on that serious face was two carrot sticks placed in his mouth like walrus tusks before he decided to further ruin Eddie by breaking out in the most disgustingly beautiful fit of laughter. Then! Then he had the audacity to take the sticks out and shove them up his nose. This was complete idiot behaviour and Eddie had never been more endeared in his life. Fuck. 

'Ground control to Munson, anyone in there?' Before Eddie could register what was happening Gareth had appeared from behind and started knocking on Eddie's head. Gareth could try all he wanted, Eddie was in a severe case of ooey gooey heart eyes over The Societal Norm that was Steve Harrington. 

'You okay man? You look vaguely constipated. More than usual I mean. You eat too many of those vitamin gummies again?' Gareth had taken a seat next to Eddie now and was promptly swapping out their lunch trays. His chocolate pudding to Eddie, Eddie's vanilla to Jeff and two applesauces to Ian. In return Gareth got an extra pretzel, no sweet tooth on that boy, which they all agreed was concerning and confirmed their theory that Gareth did not have earthly origins. 

'Dude shut up. And anyway it was ONE time. AND WHO TOLD YOU?' He didn't mean to shout but when a man's bowel's movements are brought up in a public setting what else is he to do? And...and oh no. Oh no, no. Eddie had turned back to get another sneaky look at Steve and was met by the whole table staring back. The whole table including Steve. Steve that was now making eye contact with Eddie while smiling in a deliciously confused way. Delicious?? Why was he giving Steve food adjectives? Who was he becoming? Next thing he'll be wanting to take a bite out of him!...maybe...maybe that wasn't such a bad idea actually, file that in his ‘think about later’ box.

'Harrington is totally staring at you. Eddie stop looking at him, stop! Do not engage with them! I swear to god I just want one lunch without drama!' Jeff said, finally breaking into Eddie's consciousness. 

Feeling himself going bright red Eddie returned to his body just as Steve waved with a carrot stick in hand. Bright red was now a thing of the past. Eddie's face was crimson. Eddie’s entire body could probably be used as a beacon for airplanes looking to land. Eddie's only option now was to seek employment as a court jester in order to make use of his permanently altered complexion.  Internally screaming, and maybe very quietly outwardly screaming too, Eddie swivelled abruptly in his seat. Fixed his gaze on the table in front of him and absolutely did not think about pretty Steve looked with a vegetable stuck in his face holes. Except he did and didn’t stop thinking about it for a long time.

whoops all scribbles :3

Transparent edits of illustrations by Hoshimi for Baby the Stars Shine Bright 

HAPPY VICTORIOCITY SEASON 3 DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE!!!!!!!!!

version without the claw marks:

i’m sorry but no tardis crew quite lives up to the ‘peter pan and the lost boys’ allegations like team five

It's unexpectedly cold in coastal Canada right now (it's raining and snowing very hard and fast, and before the sun set it was also very sunny) and the floors are cold, so I find myself concerned for your warmth. Are you doing alright?

Aw, that's very sweet of you to ask, I'm fine! Here in Northern Finland it's slowly getting warmer, the temperatures seem to stay at around 0°C during the day so the snow has started to melt. Then it gets a little colder at night and those wet slushy roads freeze, and when it warms up again the next day there's a layer of water on top of the melting ice and as you can imagine it gets extremely slippery. I cycle everywhere throughout the year and even with winter tires it's kind of precarious. Other than that I'm enjoying the increasing amount of natural light and the birds have started to sing again.