James, 32, U.K.

billy hargrove lover.

[harrgrove]

so….i have a ton and i mean A TON of odd sentences in my notes of random harringrove ideas that i dunno what to do with. maybe they could act as prompts on here for other people to take and run with?? would anybody be interested?

[harrgrove]

for some reason i had it in my head that i should probably make one giant post with all these prompts. but thats obviously not gonna happen. so. i’ll probably just upload one by one? hopefully HOPEFULLY…y’all don’t mind being tagged a gajillion times 😀😭

[undeadhousewife]

[eeby-deeby-dark-and-creepy]

Ok now I’m curious… Which do you prefer:

I have lived in and out of the city, I prefer the city

I have only lived in the city, I prefer the city

I have only lived out of the city, I prefer the city

I have lived in and out of the city, I prefer out of the city

I have only lived in the city, I prefer out of the city

I have only lived out of the city, I prefer out of the city

Bald/vanilla extract/I reject dichotomies under all circumstances/I can’t read

Remaining time: 2 days 8 hours

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Being an adult will have you unironically craving a vegetable

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Being an adult will have you unironically sad about a parasite outbreak in fresh vegetables.

[skyrigel]

ever since i was a little girl i knew there was no hope for me

[loveridden1999]

i cannot keep doing 6-8 episodes shows anymore guys. she's gone as soon i get to know her

[awrble-deactivated20250225]

Don’t make a sound

[stablefuse]

Night Hangout 🌃💞 They’re going to have some fun time together. unless

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪

[wrecked-fuse]

[harrgrove]

the words break out of his mouth like his tongue disagrees with his brain and so his lips open up and there they are just floating in the air waiting for billy to catch them. yeah says billy, like a question, like it was ever a question. maybe it was, to him. doesn’t think he deserves it, can’t imagine ever having it, he had said. he’d die before anybody ever- but then there was steve just giving it so freely. despite himself. despite everything. despite every bone and muscle in his body screaming, aching, weeping. synapses firing, nerve endings snapping. all too happy to give billy a chance. a second chance. a third, a fourth and a fifth and a sixth and not giving up or in not ever. never never never. fighting tooth and nail to make billy see. to prove to him that there’s something there worth saving. that he is worth saving, even when billy tells him about all the times he’s thought about just letting go. and he’s some of the way there but there’s nineteen years of it to unravel. eleven had started it (you were happy) max continues it (we could try again) the thing with steve is newer, billy’s more wary. doesn’t want something so pretty getting all tangled up in the bloody gauze that threads his life together. steve says he doesn’t mind the blood. pokes at bruises to gauge their point of healing, swaps spit even when their lips are stained red. will only practice caution when the wound is deeper..and somehow that hurts more. billy prefers the prods and the punches to the gentle touches. again, doesn’t deserve the tender. steve says he can have both. steve says he can have anything he wants, if he just lets himself. and so inch by inch billy crawls out from under his fathers thumb into the sunlight. unravels the bloody thread. lets himself be okay with the healing. reminds himself to keep pushing, keep striving, keep winning.

[harrgrove]

she wonders how a person could be happy but still want to die. she wonders it aloud one day without meaning to in steve harrington’s grand kitchen -of all the places to do it, jesus christ- fruit loops halfway to her mouth. and steve. well steve gets this stupid look on his face that she wants to punch right off. so she tells him as much and he laughs at her but it sounds wrong. she’s made him sad again. she keeps doing that. why does she keep doing that? billy’s feelings were always so complicated is what he says to the wall. she doesn’t think he will say more but then he puts the dish towel he was using over his shoulder and crosses his arms, leans back on the counter. his entire body seems to rise and fall with the breath he takes before he levels her with a devastating look and continues speaking but he-he was pretty simple. just wanted to deserve love. felt he didn’t. here steve shrugs and sniffs, keeps his nose scrunched. thought he was…unloveable or some shit. i kept telling him that so many people loved him and he would just say…i don’t deserve it. they shouldn’t love me. steve pinches the bridge of his nose, tips his head toward the ceiling. max pushes her cereal aside, appetite officially nixed. the mask that steve had carefully constructed for himself is hauntingly familiar. she feels too cold and too hot all at once. steve takes another lungful of air, presses on as she sits silently at the marble island. he thought he was a bad person and nobody could convince him otherwise. this said to the immaculate ceiling; steve sniffs again before he looks again at max. feels like a preparation. benny couldn’t convince him. or bob or jim or murray. not joyce. not- not me. she feels nauseous for a third time in as many hours, can suddenly smell the too sweet full fat milk in her discarded bowl halfway across the island. joyce said something to me once: nobody heals in a straight line. so. yeah, some days he was happy. he was really fucking genuinely happy max and we’d have the time of our lives just. watching old movies. or he’d drag me around the carnival and practically beg me to win him something from every stall as if i wouldn’t have anyway. we’d drink and get high and- but. the other days? and she feels the emphasis there. The Other Days. remembers them very, very fucking clearly. max…i couldn’t even get him out of bed. steve runs a hand through his hair, smiles that queasy smile he gets when he’s distressed. i know. she tells him. because she does know. i remember. because she’s tried damn hard to forget. so…he was happy. the smile softens as steve’s big brown eyes go sad and sparkly. yeah max, he was happy. it’s just…his bad days were a little more extreme than others. she’s starting to understand now but her big brothers last words to her still bounce around her skull like a ping pong ball she can’t catch. i ain’t suicidal, i just think about dyin’ all the time.

-

later, they celebrate his birthday as if he’s just in the other room. whooping jonathan’s ass at billiards, or taking all of hop’s money in poker and cackling as he does. maybe he’d be in a corner with will having one of their conspiratorial William Talks as billy would put it.

just a regular party for a regular brother. except. he wasn’t regular and she’ll be goddamned if anyone in this goddamn podunk town ever goddamn dares to overlook billy again.

he was loud and he was bright and he deserved a place here too so she’ll carve one out for him with her fucking fingernails if she has to.

her brother is gone and it’s nobody’s fault though there are plenty to blame. but if she looks around at all the people here, at all the people he loved, she can find little pieces of him in all of them. she can collect them all up and put them in a jar like the fireflies they used to run through the yard for. or scatter them on the dining table to be slotted together like a puzzle.

she can make him whole again.

they never said the words to each other. wasn’t billy, and it definitely wasn’t max. but she hopes he did feel it. hopes he will continue to feel it as it grows with every passing year, wherever he is.

[harrgrove]

let’s say family video is open 24/7 and let’s say steve works the day shift whilst billy works the night shift. they’ve only ever met a couple times in passing; one coming into the locker room while the other heads out, handing over the keys if nobody else is around, yadda yadda. tonight? it’s a little different. it’s term time and so without robin there as his number 2 (a teeny tiny voice in his head argues that it is in fact he who bears the number 2) his days are slow and he’s begun to slack and so keith has been on his ass like a fly on a heap of shit. hence, the end of his shift finds steve half laying half sitting on the lone bench in the one changing room, shirt bunched up around his throat. god, the place is a shithole. he really needs a new job.

enter hargrove. newest star of steve’s sodomitic fantasies. beachy blonde hair, blazing blue eyes and a bangin’ bod to boot. steve doesn’t even know his first name.

put your tits away, harrington. are the first words out of hargrove’s mouth. there’s not much heat behind the remark, only a flashing of brilliant white teeth as he fixes steve with a long seedy look.

but i got them out just for you, hargrove.

the guy only hums, squints. leans over and tweaks a nipple. hard. shaved for me too, huh?

steve bats his hand away, sits up. fully, embarrassingly aware he’s now straddling the bench. hargrove doesn’t seem to notice. so. you’re earlier than usual, why?

he shrugs. old man got sick of the sight of my mug, thought i’d amscray before he got legs. doesn’t offer up any more explanation, choosing instead to dig into his little backpack. only he must come up short because in one quick burst he’s kicking the locker closest to him. he only smiles when they make eye contact again.

hey pretty boy, can i borrow your shirt? i forgot mine. hargrove bites his bottom lip, fidgets with the hem of his ratty band tee. the ratty band tee that is so far from acceptable work wear that he might as well just go back home right now. unless…

might be kinda sweaty and gross now..i uh. moved a lotta boxes today. is all steve has to say the guy. he quirks an eyebrow in return.

you perspire a lot? hargrove holds out his hand, makes a grabby motion. steve hands over the shirt, trying hard not to think about hargrove wearing his clothes.

well i mean-

the shirt gets shaken out, each pit sniffed deeply. steve cringes a little at the visible wet patches. but hargrove seems undeterred, doesn’t even spray anything on it. i’ve worn much worse.

and steve knows that he’s lost any futile argument he could have for why the guy shouldn’t loan his shirt. okay yeah go ahead. hargrove grins wide, shark like, as he pulls the standard issue polo over his perfect curls. and wouldn’t ya know? it fits him all snug and good.

gracias, amigo. and then he’s out the door, not even bothering putting the rest of his things into a locker.

i’m steve! steve shouts after him, feeling…something. hargrove pops his head around the corner.

hey, me too! points to the name tag steve had left on. cackles and then he’s gone.

god, steve is so gonna jerk off to that chest in that polo.

[oidingus]

That was a request by @garlicglue for Steve cleaning Billy’s wounds after a fight with Neil, he is not cleaning yet, but looks generally pissed about it :D

[miremummy]

tired and irritable

[friendoftheknife]

'cause they need more tenderness and tactility with each other also THIS is an amazing fanfic too bad i can't leave a comment on it it literally healed me

[senatortedcruz]

This is what it’s all about. Saturday night. At home. Switching between the same 4 apps on my phone. Getting scared.

[tropiyas]

[harrgrove]

Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile. 💖

oh this just highlights the level of procrastination. but thank you anyway!! 🤩 💖