Mikey

I’m- I’m sorry, do… do attractive people not deserve empathy and understanding just because they are *checks notes* attractive? So y’all are saying that only if he were an ugly ass teenager then his abuse would matter? If he were ugly, and just then, would he have deserved your sympathy?

I genuinely, genuinely don’t get it. I don’t. Because shows and films in general are FULL with attractive and often questionable characters, played by attractive actors (because, duh!! Beauty is basically a main requirement at this point) and I don’t think we are all collectively attracted to every single “bad guy” ever portrayed just because they are fine??? Right??

Believe it or not, real storytelling lovers will always fall in love with the character and its story according to their personal taste, their history. Sure, the looks do have their prominent role in that, but they alone would not have been able to hold the same kind of devotion and attention that the billy fanbase reserve him since, mind you, 2017.

On Twitter, people are still baffled about the amount of harringrove fics on ao3. Like they can’t even fathom the idea of someone eeeevil like billy hargrove falling in love and healing alongside their precious golden boy steve harrington.

Because Billy Hargrove is attractive.

And his beauty is just seen as another flaw. As something to add to the mess and something that justifies the indifference towards the mess: There is something broken in you, but your pretty face is too pretty to look at, so I guess you had it coming.

I hate how, once I get back to writing fics from his PoV, he worms his way right into my brain with his penchant for swearing and cigarettes and his stupid hair and hot car and being a gay mess and how he was just a boy.

An 18 year old boy.

A boy who never got to grow up, who didn’t know what was going on in that town until it was too late, and god I just wish it was different, because it makes me so incredibly sad if I really think about him for too long.

I know he’s just a character in a show, and monsters aren’t real, but he still represents things that are very real.

At the end of the day, everything about him makes me sad. And I hate being sad, so I hate Billy.

You and me both, Nonnie

It's 10:30 pm and the patrons of the dingy bar in Bumfuck Indiana are starting to get rowdy, which would usually be Neil's cue to take his leave. Usually, but not tonight. Tonight he's far too drunk to even get off his chair, let alone leave the bar on his own two feet.

Crawling possibly, but he's not gone far enough to do that just yet. Soon, maybe. And who's fault is that? Yeah, the usual suspect comes to mind: His good-for-nothing son.

Billy, who's gotten himself killed during some freak fire if he is to believe the sob story he was told by both the Chief of Hawkins Police and the two representatives of some government agency that came knocking on his door the day after Hopper broke the news. Naturally, they didn't announce themselves as such, but Neil ain't stupid. He can smell people like that from two miles away.

He's not even surprised, if he's being perfectly honest. Fucking Billy always gets himself into trouble … got. Whatever. He's dead and Neil should be dancing a jig on his grave, because good riddance. No son of Neil Hargrove's was gonna run around and proudly announce being a fucking cocksucker to the world. And knowing Billy it was only a matter of time …

My hands are itching to write it.

and my mind just keeps replaying a scene of billy sitting at the kitchen table and neil is looking through susan's newest edition of people's magazine and coming across this photo and going on a homophobic rant about how disgusting it is. honestly probably also racist. and billy can't tear his eyes away from the photo. he's nodding along because neil expects him to agree but all he can think of is that bruce springsteen doesn't care that he's seen kissing a man.

and because it's susan's magazine neil doesn't rip it up, and he's still ranting about how they could ever think of publishing a picture like that, that it ruined his breakfast as he's walking out of the kitchen to get to his car and billy is still stuck at the table, eyes barely blinking. susan's back is to him as she's washing the dishes. and billy doesn't know what comes over him but he needs to have that issue.

that afternoon susan asks max if she took the newest people's magazine and max rolls her eyes because no, mom. billy tries to ignore the whole conversation, tries not to think about the magazine he's hidden under the blanket in the trunk of the camaro.

and if he takes it out and stares at it after he got into it with neil again, after being called a useless faggot again, after another respect and responsibility, he'll trace his fingers over the photo and the headline and feel a slight hope for a future where someone will cheer him on too.

Billy: Well, pretty boy, if you remove that stick up your ass, you can be full of me too.