just another fanboy

~ masterlist ~ 🔞 multifandom fanfic writer (or at least i try to be) | ao3: muneomon

[balanced-demons]

fandoms masterlist

welcome to my masterlist of fanfics organised by fandom! these are the fandoms i either write or want to write in! hope you find what you're looking for ♡

where would you like to go first?

>>> Hannibal

>>> Supernatural

>>> Merlin

[hughdancy-babyface]

—Is Will Graham a fragile little teacup or a slutty whore?

[rocktheholygrail]

Hannibal (2013-2015)

[hjartasalt]

Normalize getting sluttier, bloodier, and overall more insane

[cithaerons]

i couldn’t fix him but i could rail him

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

[balanced-demons]

Leave a message after the... fuck

A gift for @madsteacup- who thus far has inspired me to write all my hannigram fics 💜

Will has avoided his feelings for Hannibal for this long. But when he has to leave for a case, and Hannibal makes an arrangement for them to stay in contact for their sessions, Will realises just how much he needs Hannibal. He can only handle his nightmares for so long before he becomes desperate. While Hannibal's plan comes to formation, a sudden change in their circumstances might just work in his favour. An unexpected progression takes place and Hannibal is more than happy to improvise.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[madsteacup]

📣 Fic Rec 📣

@balanced-demons just posted the first chapter of this amazing fic, I highly recommend it!!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[stevewhoreington]

harringrove week, day 3: stood up

begin again

[warnings: mild hurt/comfort. period-typical/internalised homophobia]

The thing is:

Steve should have known that this would happen.

It was never going to be easy. Never going to be as straightforward as plucking a yes out of Billy Hargrove and actually watching him saunter over to their shared table-for-two.

He gives it time. Checks his watch and the seconds tick by, agonising and slow, until they're suddenly in a rush and Steve has been here for forty minutes, and Billy is late. Billy is nowhere to be seen, and Steve's just a sad-sack sitting at an empty table-for-two.

Steve is pissed, but mostly at himself because - even by his standards - how the hell could he be so dumb? It had been a risk all along; first asking Billy, and then showing up. Rejection had always been on the cards, really. Steve's an idiot, and Billy is not. He'd done the smart thing, because they're only supposed to be hooking up. They're not really made for anything more than that, and the town that they live in isn't made for it, either.

He waits a little while longer. Billy might just be late. In fact, Steve takes that thought and convinces himself that it's true. Billy takes forever to choose his clothes and to get his hair just right. Maybe he'd started out and has forgotten something - had to call back home, or. Needs to pick up a packet of cigarettes on the drive down here. Perhaps there's some unexpected traffic.

Billy might very well be on his way right now. He might be pulling into the parking lot. Might be walking towards the door right this second.

If he is, he gets lost, because he never shows. The door at the front of the restaurant doesn't swing open and the chair opposite Steve is never drawn back.

Steve gives up.

The drive home is miserable. It's the polar opposite of the drive here. He doesn't flick the stereo on - isn't in the mood for songs about love and romance, and isn't in the mood for songs about heartbreak, either - and he keeps his eyes fixed ahead, fingers gripping the steering wheel, tight and unforgiving, like the clench of Billy's fist around his heart.

It's dark out, now; the tree-lined roads are darker beneath the awning of thick leaves, and Steve should be on edge because it's only been four and a half months since Starcourt, but he isn't. Well. He is - but for a whole other set of reasons.

Billy didn't show. They've been hanging out for four and a half months and hooking up for three, and Steve has clearly blown it by jumping ahead, too far, too soon. Except -

He'd said yes. Billy had said yes.

The guy doesn't say shit he doesn't mean. That's, like, his thing. And, sure, he's plenty more polite these days, a little more mellowed out and open and easier to read, but. He wouldn't just agree to it for no fucking reason. Wouldn't just say yes to keep Steve happy.

Would he?

Steve doesn't need the stereo when his thoughts are deafening enough. There's some relief in returning home, even if it means being alone, because there are more distractions available to him. There's the TV, junk food, beer. Maybe some weed, if Billy hasn't smoked it all. He'll be sitting alone in an empty house when he should be sharing a table with Billy Hargrove in a restaurant that isn't too fancy but nice, and yet - it's a step up from sitting alone in his car.

He makes it to the drive, car slowing down to a crawl, and as his headlights shine across his house, Steve's heart simultaneously speeds up and slows down.

Billy is sitting on his doorstep, arms folded around himself and a cigarette stuffed in the corner of his mouth. The cherry is a red dot sight, a target, but Steve has lost the fire to aim and shoot. That hot anger has gone. His bones have turned into liquid at the sight of Billy.

Steve is parked and out of the car in less than ten seconds. He strides towards the front door and makes it in just a few steps, already opening his mouth to say, "I waited for you."

"I know," Billy mumbles, smoke drifting up and away from him. It's all that he says, gaze pointed at the floor.

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah," he says, because he's scrambling, doesn't really know where to go from here, but. That isn't exactly true. He knows what he needs to ask, but he already knows the answer. "You changed your mind." It's a statement when the words come out, because he already knows the answer.

Billy finally tips his head up to look at Steve, fingers plucking the cigarette from between his lips at the same time, and his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes wide and wild. "No," Billy says, sounding so sure of himself that Steve nearly believes him. His tone is less convincing when he adds, "Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

Billy Hargrove sits on Steve's doorstep and shrugs his shoulders, and Steve takes a second to look him over. He looks good. Looks all done up; tight shirt with only the top button popped, hair fixed in place and every curl perfect and deliberate. Looks ready for a date.

Steve frowns, digging around for his patience because he knows that it's what Billy needs these days. It's what Billy has always needed, but both Billy and Steve have been blind to that until recently. Until about four and a half months ago.

He bends his knees and drops to the step, taking up the empty space next to Billy. They should be sat at a table, bathed in warm glow and heat; should be playing footsie under the table or hiding their joined hands beneath a paper menu, but. They're sitting together, outside of Steve's house - sitting in the dark, like there's no such thing as monsters - and the only heat around them belongs to the fire at the tip of Billy's cigarette.

"Billy," Steve says, "What is it?"

Next to him, Billy sighs and snuffs out the cigarette against the concrete ground. "It's not a good idea. I'm not ready."

Steve's lips thin. "Okay."

"I mean," Billy mumbles, "I'm ready for the date. For, y'know. Doing that shit with you."

"Oh?" Every pulse point in Steve's body is throbbing. "Okay. Good. That's. That's good. So -"

"So." Billy kicks at some loose gravel and brushes his hands up and down his arms. "So, I just mean. I'm not ready to go out and do that."

Oh. Oh.

"Billy," Steve breathes, relieved and confused and all torn up. "Okay. That's fine. I -" He licks his dry lips. "You know I wasn't going to try anything in public, right? I know I can be a dumbass sometimes, but I'm not that -"

"Steve." Billy's quick to interject. "I know you wouldn't, but with all those people around..." He trails off, but he doesn't need to finish that sentence for Steve to understand where he's going with it.

"I know," Steve whispers. "I know."

"I'm sorry." Billy's voice is small, regretful, and Steve's only heard it like this once before. It's the same tone that had carried Billy's first apology to Steve. Something quiet and solemn and entirely sincere.

Steve reaches out. Doesn't even think twice about taking Billy's hand into his own. "Don't be. Got nothing to be sorry for."

Billy scoffs. "I made you wait. Stood you up. Should've just told you from the get-go."

"I don't think you meant to," Steve suggests, curling his fingers around Billy's. "You're all dressed up."

"You saying I'm not usually?"

Steve laughs, and then Billy laughs, and it's dark out, the sky black above them, but that smile on Billy's face lights up the world.

It falters, though, and then Billy's telling Steve, "I thought I'd be able to do it, y'know? Just walk in there and not give a shit and sit at a table with you."

"It's okay." Steve squeezes Billy's hand, and Billy's eyes, glitter-blue, meet Steve's. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Shoot."

Steve brushes his fingers over the sharp bumps of Billy's knuckles. "I'm just glad you didn't change your mind about the whole thing. I thought you had. Figured you were just being nice when you agreed to come out with me."

Billy doesn't laugh at him; doesn't dig at his weak spot with anything sharp or sarcastic. Instead, Billy says, "Never gonna change my mind about you, pretty boy."

It's cold out here, but Steve's face is on fire. Inside his ribcage, his heart is kicking. He stares back at Billy for a long second, mouth dry, before he murmurs, "Could still have that date, if you wanted it."

Billy cocks an eyebrow at him, curious. "Elaborate?"

Steve smiles. "There's an empty house behind us. It's probably warmer in there than out here. There's a TV in there, too, I think. And food. Maybe some candles. Some weed if a certain somebody hasn't smoked it all, and," he pauses, pressing his fingertips to the smooth skin of Billy's hand, "there's even a bed."

[simplydes]

#HARRINGROVEWEEK2022

I was supposed to post this yesterday, but here I am-- I added a LOT more than I planned, though I think it turned out pretty neat. also, there are some easter eggs that some of you might spot from a closer look...

also, I tried out my chibi style for this prompt! snowed in, cause I could use a cool breeze rn I'm dying of heat

note of the day: stay hydrated everyone <33

[reggieslocket]

i'll never shut up abouth this, ever

[peanut-booi]

First thing that came in my mind during this season 4 scene 👀

[to-be-deleted]

quick explanatory graph

[lazybakerart]

imagine Steve and the gang stumbling into the Upside Down only to find the sweatiest and grimiest Billy Hargrove, curls dripping in grease and clothes sloppy in blood and gunk, demo-bat perched on his shoulder, alive and so incredibly pissed off.

[memes-saved-me]

What if?

[iiruwu]

say what y’all want about harringrove but some of the best fanfiction i’ve ever read in the stranger things fandom have come from that tag on ao3. harringrove stans have such accurate, painfully good depictions of both steve and billy’s characters (plus their inner turmoils) as well as how their dynamic would realistically pan out if billy had been given the chance to redeem himself in the show

[asterdust]

eddie what the fuck is a personal space munson and steve letting jesus in bec im about to have a full on gay crisis if u lean in too much harrington pls come home

[greenshark666]

when robin came out to steve, he said “but she’s a girl” when robin was talking about her crush, like he literally didn’t even know that was an option.

this is why my brain has convinced me that bi steve harrington 100% possible bc now he realizes that dating someone of the same gender is a possibility.