#i just remember being a kid and trying to picture my future and coming up blank

[kaijugroupy]

things get better. my best friend in the world got top surgery after us talking about it for years. i'm getting mine next year. i have genuine friends now who teach me everyday what love looks like. love looks like going to an arcade and talking for hours at the bar instead. love looks like planning road trips to our hometowns. love looks like choosing our regalia colors together. love looks like learning our language. love looks like compression binders. love looks like top surgery scars. love looks like sweet grass tattoos.

things get better.

[mccormickgf]

Hiiii, can u do a craig tucker with a baby fever/breeding kink x fem reader?? It would give me so much life cause i been reading the same fanfics of him over and over 😭, thank you so much if you do it

need to breed : craig tucker

warnings: nsfw (18+), fem and afab reader, breeding, p-in-v sex, pregnancy mentions, overstimulation, feral craig tbh

notes: i was just gonna write the smut part, but i love craig sm and wanted to write more 😭 also i haven’t written smut in months so i apologize if i’m rusty <3

“we should have a kid.”

you nearly choke on your own spit at your husband’s forwardness. craig’s always been very blunt in what he says about things or others. but when it comes to the things he wants, he’s a little less vocal. so hearing a suggestion, especially like the one he said, threw you for a loop.

“you- you want to get me pregnant?” you questioned, disbelief in your tone, “and have a baby?”

“that’s usually the order it goes in, yeah.”

you roll your eyes at his sass, but you don’t comment on it. instead, you question him. “whatever, whatever,” you said, “but what’s making you want this now?”

even before you and craig got married, you two talked about having kids one day. it was something both of you wanted in the future. but you weren’t expecting the conversation to happen in the near future.

craig pushes off the doorframe, walking his body to his side of the bed. you watch him curiously as his eyes trail down your body— only wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a thin tank top.

“clyde keeps sending me pictures of he and his wife’s new baby,” craig explained, “it— i guess it just makes me wonder what our baby would look like. and we have the funds to stay afloat, even with one.”

you smile lightly at him. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. maybe it’d have craig’s jet black hair and your eyes, or your hair and craig’s eyes and nose. when you thought about his strong arms holding onto a little chubby baby— your heart soared.

you press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “let’s try.”

a broken sob falls past your lips as craig thrusts inside of you for the umpteenth time. you don’t know how long you’ve been there, laying on your back on the mattress with your legs folded to your shoulders, but you know you’ve been there long enough for craig to fuck three loads into your sopping cunt. or was it four? you could barely remember your own name, let alone how many times you’ve both cum.

“craig— oh god! it’s too much, ‘s too much!” you cried out. craig’s thrusts were furiously fast, yet accurate enough to hit that one spot that made you see stars over and over again.

“you can take it— fuck!” craig groaned, “gotta make sure you get pregnant, right?”

a shaky moan falls past your lips as you bite the bottom one, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you like a vice.

normally, craig is a slow-fucker. not necessarily overly slow in pace, but in how he takes his time to pleasure you fully. but this? this is a whole new thing for you and him. it’s like a switch got flipped inside his brain, and everything else was shut off except for his need to breed you.

craig’s cock continued to move in and out of you at an animalistic pace. your pussy was beyond spent, leaking a mix of his cum (that he hasn’t already fucked back into you) and yours onto the bedsheets. if you weren’t so out of it, you’d be embarrassed at the mess beneath you and the sound of it being fucked back into you.

“gonna fill you up with my babies, make you a mama,” craig continued to ramble, a small sheen of sweat on his forehead, “you’d like that wouldn’t you? get you all, shit— nice and pregnant.”

your cunt involuntarily squeezed around his cock at his words, a pornographic moan escaping you. craig lightly chuckled, “oh, so you do like it. i just felt your pretty pussy squeeze me.”

your face burns, but there’s very little chance for embarrassment as you feel another orgasm building up, a heat in your tummy. frantic moans and whines escape you, the pleasure bordering on painful from how many times you’ve cum.

“god, fuck!” you cried, “craig, ‘m gonna cum!” tears of pleasure escape your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

with one hand, craig reaches down and runs firm yet rhythmic circles on your clit, making you gasp. with the other, he grabs onto your hand, pressing it to his lips.

“you gonna cum with me, honey?” he said, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppier as he gets closer to his orgasm, “i’m gonna— gonna fill you up again, k? to make sure you have my baby.”

pleas leave your lips as you grip craig’s hand, throwing your head back as the heat in your stomach finally releases with a final loud moan. craig quickly follows, groaning as his load fills your pussy.

craig stays inside of you as his forehead falls against yours, both of your chests moving up and down in sync. you feel beyond spent, your legs numb from holding them up for so long.

but before you can say anything, craig leans up slightly so he can look in your eyes. “got one more in ya, honey? i wanna make sure i get you pregnant on the first try.”

[taintandviolent]

remember me? ; Eric Draven x Reader

summary: Do you believe in fate? Sure. Did you ever think you'd see him again? No. You were childhood friends with Eric, and after a decade, you finally find him again.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.1K | female reader, smut, kissing/making out, dry humping in a public place (club bathroom), canon divergence/alternate universe (technically), neck kissing, Eric being kinda' clingy.

a/n: requested by my lil' soulless anon! sorry it's a shorter fic, but I hope you enjoy it! banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Sure, you believed in fate. You believed in that invisible red string that connected soulmates throughout their lives. You believed in destiny, and all that other mystical, magical unseen shit in life. Did it affect you everyday? No, not really. 

Until it does. Until you recognize your childhood friend in the middle of this random club. He hadn’t been just your childhood friend. Truthfully, he was really the first boy you’d ever loved. He’d set your little teenager heart aflame, but because you two were such good friends, you’d never done anything about it. 

And there he was, in this random club, walking right past you. You know it’s him. You’d recognize that face, those eyes, anywhere in the world. You’re almost too stunned to speak, but somehow, you manage his name. 

“Eric?” 

He does a half-turn, not fully invested in finding out who is calling his name. He was tall and lanky back then, but he’s somehow even taller now, and has filled out with slim, toned muscles. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, waiting for whatever it is you’re going to say. 

“Eric, hi…” You breathe, not loud enough to be heard over the thumping music. He looks down at you, and you wait, wait for the moment of recognition to flash across his gaze. It doesn’t come. You laugh and look down at yourself, remembering that it’s been ten years. Maybe he doesn’t recognize you as you look now. Maybe he’s forgotten altogether. Or maybe he doesn’t want to remember. 

You reach out to touch his exposed forearm, which is heavily covered in tattoos. “You don’t remember me, do you?”  

“Why should I? Who are you?” 

You hold up a finger and pull your phone from the confines of your skin-tight, dark jeans. You’re scrolling for a minute before you hold up a picture. It’s of the two of you, much younger. His arm is slung around your shoulders and you hold onto his torso like it’s keeping you on the ground. 

There it is. There’s that look. Even in the neon lighting of the club, you can see his pupils dilate. 

“Y/N…..?”

You nod. 

His arms are suddenly around your back, pulling you into a hug. He’s warm, sweaty – probably from dancing, and smells faintly of cologne, cigarettes and some kind of liquor. With your face smashed against his firm, toned torso, you ease into the hug, smiling. Like he’s revelling in the feeling of having you, knowing you again, he sways you back and forth, your tiny frame no match for his strength. 

You stay like this for a bit, until the tempo of the song changes and he’s pulling you away from his chest to look at you – really look at you.

“You look different,” he says. You shrug and nod, agreeing that you do. Back in high school, you were more… normal looking. Brighter, maybe. Colorful. But now, from your hair to your clothes, you were black as night. Your eyes were heavily lined, your lips dark. Tattoos littered your body, much like his. 

“It’s…” he swallows. “It works for you.” 

He smiles. It’s the same boyish, shy smile he had as a kid. You smile back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach up the ante, like they’re trying to burst out through your flesh. 

So again, did you believe in fate? Sure. Did you think it was going to land you in the arms of Eric Draven, pressed up against the door of a bathroom wall while his tongue violated your mouth? No. Not, really. 

But, here you are. Breathless and sweaty as his hand trails down the length of your waist, hitching over the edge of your jeans. You crane to the side as Eric breaks free, peppering sloppy, drunk kisses along the column of your neck.

“I thought I lost you,” he says in a low voice. It’s filled with desperation, with emotion, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

“I know, Eric, I’m sorry… I’m sorry I left.” 

He breathes heavily into your neck, sending an explosive shiver down your spine. You wonder if he’s always felt this way, but don’t dare ask, in fear of it being just a drunk fling. His hands trail underneath your ass and before you can process it, he’s lifting you up into his arms and pressing you against the wall. His hips urge into yours, and you feel the telltale resistance of an erection pressing back against you. 

“I really am sorry,” you repeat, feeling guilty. You had no choice as a kid, to move away, but you’d left without saying goodbye. One day, you just weren’t there. And you felt like Eric took that personally. 

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, just underneath your ear. “Just don’t leave again.” 

He urges himself up into you again, paired with a little desperately hungry grunt. Your lids drift down, feeling the warm wave of ecstasy wash over your senses.

Eric thrusts his hips up again, and this time, doesn’t stop, finding a rhythm. Between you, there’s a wet spot on his dark jeans where the precum is leaking out as he insistently grinds against you. Your underwear are soaked, the feeling of his stiff cock through his jeans hitting the right spot with every movement. You’re holding onto him for dear life, both because he’s supporting you, and because you’re actually afraid to let go. Whether or not this was a drunken tryst or something that had been building up for decades, your inner teenager was satisfied. The red string was wrapped tight around your throat and you had no intention of untying it. 

“Don’t… don’t stop, Eric.” 

He doesn’t, and only holds you tighter, one hand splayed out on the back of your head. The other arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you strongly in place. He rests his damp forehead against yours, his breath washing over your face. His expression is a perfect image of debauchery; slack-jawed, pupils lust-blown, skin glistening with sweat.

“Fuck,” you yelp, digging your nails into his neck. 

You feel the coil wrapping tight in your abdomen, and as you squeeze your eyes shut tight, you feel Eric lose his rhythm. His body seizes up, hands digging into you as tight as he can. Euphoria washes over you as Eric’s hips jerk one final time, the bulge grinding against your clothed, damp center. Eric holds you tight as he comes, thrusting his hips languidly up into you. You shudder against him as your own cunt spasms, clenching around nothing. 

“You’ll stay?” His breath is heavy, and hot. 

You swallow, wet your dry throat and nod. “I’ll stay. I’ll even give you my phone number this time.” 

[darkcircles4lyfe]

To Build Something Else

Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…

It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.

In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.

And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?

I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.

To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.

[celestie0]

kickoff! reader who is stalking gojos page and accidentally likes one of his oldest posts. she panics and turns off her phone, without unliking it.

kickoff!gojo who is re reading your guys instagram messages and you text him while he’s doing this. he scrambles to come up with a reason as to why he read your message instantly

kickoff! reader who tries to watch soccer games to understand what’s happening. she probably yells offsides at everything. gojo can only smile at her and offer to help her out

kickoff! gojo who takes a picture of your silhouette in front of those statues you meet up at during the sunset (without your knowledge) and makes it his lock screen. you ask him about it but he just pretends that it’s a soccer goal and the sunset behind it.

kickoff! reader who finds herself thinking of satoru way too much. will see basically anything and be reminded of him. “oh a pair of sunglasses? gojo would like those” “hm, they started selling a strawberry tea? gojo would drink that”

kickoff! gojo who loves the sims. unironically makes a sim version of him and reader. tbh he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he just starts thinking about reader and starts adding her features. thinks it’s funny to make them have “fun time”

kickoff! reader who is looking through the game pictures she takes and finds herself staring at gojo. doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until mina walks in on her. think peter parker and gwen stacy

kickoff!gojo who has a full “project m’bappe” for your future kids. starts the kids off with a soccer plush and it leads to them being absolute powerhouses in toddler leagues

kickoff! reader who used to play soccer as a kid. threw a tantrum in the middle of a game because she decided she hated it. only started to like it again because of gojo

kickoff! gojo who keeps a printed out picture of the two of you in his wallet. Suguru took it at the frat party when gojo kissed you. around you is blurry and flashing lights, in the middle of the chaos is gojos lips pressed against yours. His hand is holding your waist, you’re slightly on your tippy toes to reach him. He sometimes zones off when paying because the picture catches his eye

BABE……..WHEN I TELL YOU IM BLUSHING N SQUEALING N KICKING MY FEET SM RN…..UHHH I THINK U MIGHT HAVE TO JUST TAKE OVER WRITING THE SERIES FOR ME??? bc i went thru sm emotions reading these pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ok first of all tysm for thinking of these and sending them to me???? i genuinely cannot believe youve made headcanons for my fic that’s so surreal n i will forever remember this 😭😭

BUT ALSO THESE ARE SO ACCURATE PLS and all the little details omg it means sm that youve noticed all these lil thinfs throughout the fic n their relationship n i cld cry rn 😭😭

pls excuse me for addressing each n every one of these bc im so excited by them i fear this ask will be long so i’m adding a keep reading loool

sobsosbsosbsbsossbb the headcanons ab their digital fuckups LMAOO omg reader is 100% the type to be stalking him at 3am even tho she swears shes not even THAT down bad for him n then she loses all feeling in her face when she realizes she liked a post from when he was like in high school or sumn🧍🏻‍♀️there’s no coming back from that LMFAOO but i feel like gojo wldnt even notice it bc he probs gets a lot of notifs so she’s safe this time around 😭😭 BUT YOURE ALSO SO RIGHT AB HIM REREADING MESSAGES N THEN GETTING SPOOKED WHEN HE REALIZES SHE SAW THAT HE READ IT RIGHT AWAY LMAO i feel like he’d pull something like “uhhhh i was just about to trxt you, that’s why” and she’s like “🤨 this is the fifth time that’s allegedly happened”

aww reader trying to understand soccer for him 😭 thats so cute bahah also i made another headcanon recently from another anon who mentioned gojo streaming the world cup hehe it’d be so cute if reader shows up to the frat game nights in the jersey of the team that gojo’s rooting for bc she’s just trying to be a supportive girlfriend n she gets excited watching the game but she’s actually got no clue what tf is going on 💀 but gojo adores her for it so thats ok

the lockscreeennn that’s so cute 😭 also i love the idea of reader being his muse too :”) like he doesn’t know much about photography but bc of her he’s like kinda curious about it now so he’s always taking pictures of her w his phone while she’s not looking :”) i imagine his camera roll is just a bunch of candids of her while she’s dissociating off into the distance or something 🤣 n he’s like “wow so pretty im so good at this”

OK BUT READER IS ME THINKING AB GOJO EVERYWHERE I GO LMAOO no but srs that one made heart skip a beat bc how sweeettt is that 😭 i think that is a true mark of love where u think of someone everywhere you go :”) for gojo, i imagine that anytime he sees anything scenic or colorful or something like blooms of flowers or a nice sky he thinks of how she wld probably really love to take pics of it n he gets sad she’s not there to do so

okk im down for sims boyfriend gojo 🤣 and wdym by fun time omg 😭 pls dont tell me it’s possible to make people BONK on sims. ive seen a lot of tiktoks recently about how they added gojo to stardew valley n ppl have been marrying him lmfaoo i wonder if gojo wld try to marry her in sims 💀 cant tell if thats cute or creepy PLS tbh i’d probs be like “aww babe”🧍🏻‍♀️

and YES AB THE ONE WHERE SHE STARES AT GOJO’s PICS THATS PRACTICALLY CANON, also, there was supposed to be a scene exactly like that in ch8 where mina walks in on her staring at the pics she was editing for her professor 😭😭 so ur 100% right on. i just bet he looks so handsome in those photos cuz he’s concentrated n sweaty n probs looks really determined n in his element tbf i’d be starinf at those pics too LOL

YOURE SO RIGHT HAHA he’d make sure their kids are soccer prodigies 😭😭 startin them YOUNG. reader’s like “dont u think they’ve practiced enough today…they’re supposed to go to that birthday party at noon” and he’s like “THE GRIND NEVER STOPS😤🔥” 💀💀 unironically the type of dad that wakes his kids up at 5am on summer break to take em to soccer bootcamp or sumn 😭😭 ok but he knows theyre just kids n lets them have fun haha obviously but he just has high expectations for them lmaoo

im so tender to the idea of reader having played soccer in her youuuuthh how cute wld it be if she unknowingly also had a crush on gojo back when they were kids (maybe there was some sort of co-ed game they played ONCE when their elementary schools organized it n she was like omg who’s that boy over theree n it’s just 8 y/o gojo who’s got all the 2nd grade girlies swooning even back then 🤣) but in adulthood she probably doesnt rememebr that at all haha OMGGGG I NEED TO MAKE THIS CANON BC HOW ADORABLE WOULD IT BE IF GOJO’s MOM HAD TAKEN A PICTURE OF THE GAME BACK THEN N U CAN SEE LITTLE GOJO N LITTLE READER ARE IN THE SAME PHOTO im gonna sob???? im so inspired by these rn??? anon??? can i fr hug u through the screen???

omggg ok im deceased im dead ab the PICTURE IN HIS WALLET. THAT IS SO HUSBAND CODED and adorabke asf i just might melt rn 😭 him getting distarcted while paying kakskddjhd also i can imagine him having a picture in his wallet of her in her cap n gown on n stoles n everything during graduation or something bc it reminds him of their college days :”) n when he’s playing away games during national league he’s always looking at it when he’s away from home bc he misses her

also i feel like suguru might’ve taken the photo as a polaroid 🤔 now i headcanon that kickoff reader also has a polaroid camera bc why wouldnt she lmfaoo 🤣 but just imagine the polaroid relationship wall LOL its so corny but i wld want them to make one together 😩💕

screaming. crying. feeling so inspired rn. cheesing. cheeks r hurting. love u sm anon srs if you have more i will gobble them up like a turkey. LOVE YOU <333

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 9

Yay!! Another chapter of this lovely chronicle. I really do recommend going back and re-reading a bit since it's been so long.

But in this we have Harrington Sr. being an ass, the most epic confrontation I've ever written, and Dustin being sweet and asshole at the same time. The kid has range.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

Late at night in the last days before the school ended, they would climb up on the roof of the trailer and talk about their hopes and dreams.

Eddie had told him that he was going to try third time lucky to graduate. And then if he didn’t make it next year, he’d take the GED and walk away, ready to join Steve wherever he was. Not that he wanted to leave Eddie behind or the kids. But if he was to go to college, he’d have to.

Steve walked across that stage to thunderous applause, all his friends, the kids, Eddie and Wayne all cheering for him. Even Nancy and Jonathan had been there to cheer him on. But there, in the stands frowning at the people Steve had surrounded himself with, were his parents.

Steve knew he should feel grateful that they came at all. But he knew it was more about image and appearing to be the perfect parents than any actual interest. He saw them clap politely and then his father pulled out a newspaper and his mother fussed with her hair and makeup the whole time.

They took pictures with him afterwards with fake smiles plastered on and took him out to dinner to talk about his future. Which was all about joining the company and getting his business degree. Two things that Steve had no interest in doing.

He had hoped to get scholarships for college based on his sports so that he wouldn’t have to rely on his dad’s money, but that fell through.

He had missed the early decision deadline, because he had had his head smashed in. So he had sent the applications off at the start of the new year. But by then his grades had slipped due to the concussion and the letters coming back weren’t a good sign.

He would just have to try and reason with his dad about college and keep his fingers crossed he’d get out of this town somehow.

****

“These are your grades?” Mr. Harrington bellowed. “How are you supposed to get into good colleges and universities with these?”

The first week of June was not a good week, ever, in Steve’s opinion. It was when grades were mailed out and he had to listen to the screaming for a full week.

“I had that concussion in the middle of the year, remember?” Steve asked. “That set my grades back a bit. But I thought I would take a year of community college and build my grades back up to get into the better schools.”

“No son of mine is going to a state school!” Mr. Harrington roared. “And you can forget about that summer internship at the company! I will not have tell others that you didn’t get into a proper school.”

Steve could feel his stomach sink to the base of spine. He didn’t like where this was going. At all.

“You will get a job,” Mr. Harrington continued to menace. “I don’t mean some cushy life guard bullshit where you sit in some high tower, looking pretty, either. A real job. Retail. Build character.”

“But I already told Mr. Jones at the community center that I would lifeguard again this summer,” Steve protested.

“You go back there and tell him you have better things to do with your time!” Mr. Harrington shouted. “That new mall opened up. Starcourt. You’ll find something there.” He leaned forward into Steve’s space. “Do I make myself clear?”

Steve gulped, but nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Good.”

Mr. Harrington turned on his heel and stormed back into his office. Mrs. Harrington stood at the edge of the room, almost swaying on her feet as she would move forward to comfort Steve, but then would change her mind. Back and forth.

Steve pinched his nose and rubbed the end. He looked up at her with dead eyes. “He’ll keep moving the goal posts. You know he will.”

This time she did surge forward. “You know it’s not like that. He only wants what’s best for you.”

“Best for me?” Steve murmured, barely holding back the tears. “Or what will make him look the best? Because I’m tired, Mom.”

“It’s hard,” Mrs. Harrington said, rubbing his arm gently. “But come autumn he’ll see how well you did and maybe he’ll let you try for the state school.”

Steve knew it was a lie or whatever that she was telling herself more than she was tell him.

He pinched and rubbed his nose, forcing back the tears. He wasn’t going to cry in front of either of his parents. It only enraged his father and prompted mocking from his mother.

Oh, she hid it under the guise of ‘tough love’ but it was all tough and no love.

He thought of Wayne and Eddie. Of how they didn’t have a lot of material possessions but they had each other and their love for each shone brightly.

Steve held up his chin and nodded. Then he grabbed his keys and wallet, forcing on his shoes.

“Where are you going?” his mother huffed. “Storming off like that after a fight with your father is so childish, Steven.”

Steve turned to her slowly and blinked. “To talk to Mr. Jones about not being able to lifeguard this year and go job hunting at the mall like Dad wants?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re always so dramatic, Steven. I suppose that was why you took so well to it. Of course, if you had any real talent you would have gotten a more substantial role.”

He squeezed his hand around his keys, the ridges digging into his palm, as he fought down the bile that rose to his throat.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” Steve said through gritted teeth. He rushed out the door, careful not to slam it behind him.

He drove out to the community center and hit his steering wheel over and over as he cursed out his parents until he was exhausted.

He sighed and got out the car, making his way to front desk. “Hey, Janis, is Mr. Jones in today?”

Janis smiled at him. “Sure thing, sweetie. Just go on back.”

Steve caught Mr. Jones as he was coming back to his office.

“Hey, Steve!” Mr. Jones said cheerfully, coming up to him with a big smile. “You here for your schedule?”

Steve shook his head. “My dad didn’t like my grades and told me I had to get a real job. Sorry.”

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Mr. Jones said crumpling. “And there’s no chance he’ll let you do both?”

“No,” Steve said bitterly. “If he finds out I’m working here he’ll beat my ass. I wanted to come back, but I guess my dad had other plans.”

“Well, well,” a cruel voice said behind them, “it looks like you have an opening after all, Mr. Jones.”

Steve and Mr. Jones turned toward the voice slowly, knowing with complete dread who it was.

Billy Hargrove was leaning against the wall, arms folded and a giant smirk on his face.

“Looks like your loss is my gain, Harrington,” he said coolly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Story of my life since you rolled into town, Hargrove. You stole my friends, the captain of the basketball team, hell you probably would have stolen my girl if she liked jocks instead of tortured artists or some shit. It ain’t new.”

“You’re just bitter that I’m the superior you in every way,” Billy said with a sneer. “The sooner you admit it, the less heartache you’ll have, pretty boy.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “I have other talents, asshole. I can draw, I can act, and I can fucking swim. While you were out there fucking anything with a pussy that would let your scaly ass, I was beating records and making it to nationals as part of our swim team. You are just some washed up surfer in desperate need a wave. I am a swimmer.”

He nodded to Mr. Jones who had a smug smile on his face.

Billy was taken aback. “So you do have a spine. Huh. I would have never guessed it. Not with Max and Munson doing your dirty work for you.”

Steve got right up in Billy’s face. “I didn’t go after you, dipshit,” his voice low and menacing. Quiet enough that only he could hear. “Because I just wanted to graduate. But now that I have that diploma, I’m more than ready throw hands with you. Plus we all know I had you against the ropes until you cheated by smashing a plate to my head.”

He patted Billy’s chest and waving goodbye to Mr. Jones, he walked out of there, chin held high.

****

Steve had gathered somewhere around a dozen or so applications to the stores that surrounded him and sat down in the food court to fill them out. His eyes were starting to go cross-eyed when Dustin came up to him and sat down across from him.

“Dude,” Dustin greeted. “What’s all this shit?”

Steve looked up at him and sighed. “Job applications. My dad wants me to get a summer job.”

“But you have a summer job,” Dustin replied with a frown. “The rec center. You’re a lifeguard.”

Steve sighed again and shook his head. “My dad was pissed that I only got into a couple of schools and not the good ones.”

Dustin frowned and tilted his head to the side. “Is that because of what happened with Billy?”

“That’s part of it,” Steve agreed. “But I was really counting on a sports scholarship and with how shitty everything got I didn’t get a single one.”

“But you went to nationals with your swimming though,” the gap-toothed kid grumbled.

Steve put down his pen and planted his hands on either side of his applications. “Look, bud, I get that you think you’re trying to help or whatever but my team came in last at nationals. In everything. No scout was going to give us so much as a passing glance. No sports scholarship plus missing the early acceptance deadline and having to wait for regular admissions means that I’m on a waiting list for most of the good schools, didn’t get in to the decent schools, and my dad won’t let me go to the community college. So here I am doing the best I can, okay?”

Dustin pouted but gave up on pushing the issue. He grabbed the applications and began looking through them.

“Hey!” Steve cried trying to get them back, but Dustin kept dodging him.

He set down three applications. “You can put in for all of if you want, but I’d focus on these three.” Scoops Ahoy, The Gap, and Shapiro’s.

Steve picked them and looked at them. “Why?”

“Those are going to be the ones that kids aren’t going to want to try for,” Dustin said. “And you have to get this job because of your dad. These are more likely to hire you.” He pointed to the ice cream shop. “That one is your best bet.”

Steve nodded. That was one he had been expecting to get too.

“So when are you leaving to nerd camp?” he asked, taking the applications from the kid.

“It’s called Camp Know Where,” Dustin scoffed. “Know as in k-n-o-w where. It’s really cool.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That still doesn’t tell me when you’re going, dork.”

“Oh!” Dustin said, eyes wide. “Tomorrow. My mom is buying me the things I’ll need so I can leave bright and early.”

Steve’s expression softened. “I’m going to miss you, you know?”

Dustin nodded back. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Someone called his name and he looked up. “It looks like my mom’s calling me. Good luck on the job search.”

Steve stood up and gave him a hug. “Have fun, okay?”

Dustin nodded and ran to catch up to his mom as Steve went back to his applications with a sigh. He really was going to miss that butthead.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: ELEVEN SLOTS OPEN

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #20

Best of Luck

With a title like "Best of Luck," this sounds exactly like an Anti-Fairy episode. I'm intrigued.

I love how Cosmo and Wanda's house can be wherever it needs to be, including inside Hazel's desk.

I wish we would've had that lore in the OG series, because it makes a lot of sense (and makes the concept of riding around with your godkids and sitting in elementary school all day less boring). I think I'm yoinking this for 'fics.

I like how they still have old-fashioned desks in the future. I've never had these desks.

Peri and Dev are together again... Peri's trying his best <3 I like how Dev is a grump. That feels right.

"Peace is boring and lacking in swag." - Dev Dimmadome, 2024

I love him.

I enjoy how that random horse has been here for tons of episodes. It's just silly.

I really like Winn. They have so many happy things to say about life and their friends:

"Pulling out paper, even though you'd used it to defeat your previous 3 opponents?? /smiles and clutches hands to chest while shaking head. "Inspired."

They deserve to be the cool kid everyone likes and wants to befriend. I support it. I hope they have a really nice life and many joys.

Hey, wait a minute! I WAS right about Winn only having freckles on one cheek. I think it just flips sides when they turn.

Peri in his debut: I'm gonna take you from Dev to Dev-ine!! Dev now, on the heels of a massive meltdown: What happened to you 'taking me from Dev to Dev-ine?' I don't FEEL very Dev-ine >:( Peri: :')

I enjoy the detail of Dev pushing his shades back on his nose after throwing his head back and then snapping it forward. They didn't even fall down or reveal his eyes, but it was the correct move for him to do.

I like how every time Dev moves his head, his shades catch the ceiling lights.

Ohhh, when snooty Peri comes out, you've gone too far!

... I was wrong!! Dev just raised his voice and Peri crumpled. I love him.

That music sting, tho...

For some reason, that last one gives me bigger "Oh, that's totally Poof" energy than any other screenshot I've taken? idk why; I don't remember Poof getting angry often.

Hang on- I watch Season 9 a lot. Let me check my usual highlights...

... ah. I don't like what this says about me.

-> omg, his staff is based on his rattle! I didn't even notice that until now!! That's so clever!

There's something really funny about posting this picture right before jumping back into my liveblog.

Anyway, Peri is trying SO hard to explain the rules... He looked like he was about to cry and then he snapped; let's see where this is going.

OHHHH, he's quitting! I knew it~! He can't handle the pressure. He's too baby!!

I cannot believe this man lasted 4.5 months on the job. Every time he showed up, he was upset.

Peri: You know what, Dev? I'm DONE. Dev: Well, I'm done-ER! Peri: I'm the done-EST! Dev: Stick a fork in BOTH OF US, THEN!!!

Neither of them is okay.

And he's got tears down his cheeks... Freakin' GEEZ, Dev! You snapped him like a twig.

I'm glad he's having a hard time adjusting to being a nice person. lol. It really underscores why he's so mean at the start of the series.

The fact that he had no issue taking off his shades after befriending Hazel in "A New Dev-elopment" (even willing to go to school with them off and talk nicely to his teacher that Monday, regardless of the fact that this was his first time in the series doing that and people might've talked about it) gives me the inkling that he probably HAS tried being nice in the past, and he doesn't MIND being nice... until he's hurting, and then his self-defense mechanism is to shut down and wall everyone out.

He WANTS to be "a happy kid." He just keeps getting bit every time he places his trust in someone. Including Hazel (in his POV) since he couldn't move past his "Wait a minute... Did you WISH for us to be friends??" meltdown in spite of the good times that came from that wish.

He tried so hard to see the good in his dad in "Lost and Founder's Day." Even when his dad snapped at him for asking if he could help and told him to go "Eat a lizard."

Even when his dad blatantly used electricity to shock people's brains and Dev very clearly had issues with it. He tried SO HARD to turn it around to "Oh, so you can help kids!!"

He even tried to see the good in Vicky [before she entered the house] when Hazel tried cheering him up with the thought of, "Well yeah, maybe you didn't want a princess cosplayer at your birthday, but she might be a really COOL party princess!"

He just keeps trying and has such high hopes and patience despite getting nipped every time he speaks up and reaches out. That's why he stayed un-miserable for so long before tipping over and getting Peri assigned to him. Tell him how high to jump and he'll do his best without even asking "How high?"

So he took that leap with Hazel. And the floor went out from under him.

I read once that if your natural response is to close off when you're struggling and/or just handle everything yourself even if it's a lot, it indicates your past experiences of reaching out yielded no help, so it's hard to see the point in asking others for help in the future.

I don't have the place I read this on hand and I didn't dive for the sources back then, so take it with a grain of salt, but it's all I've been thinking about while watching Dev in this show.

btw, I had to rewatch part of "Lost and Founder's Day" to grab that screenshot, and it's hilarious to me that even when he's talking to his own son, Dale still introduces himself as "Dale Dimmadome, owner of Dimmadome Global." He's just like his dad.

Okay... Blue smoke? Anti-Fairy time??

OHHHH, it's the man of the hour!! Welcome back, loser!

I love the little shift of him flexing his wing. I like how similar the wing is to the old show (Black with blue markings).

Eric Bauza, is that you?? Score!

Okay, I looked it up to see if that was true and first of all, yes it is, and second, he's also credited as Peri's VA, so I love that! I hadn't bothered to check who Peri's VA was, but that literally makes so much sense; their parents have always shared, so of COURSE they'd share too. That's so smart...

Hm... Can't say I'm the biggest fan of Foop's name changing to Irep and I'm not sure I like his design, but maybe it'll grow on me.

That said, the name change is a really clever way to get Irep to explain the lore of how he's the opposite of Peri without being info-dumpy.

I'm glad he kept his facial hair. And he's got big boy fangs! I miss his F-shaped hair curls, though, or maybe I need a better angle.

Hey, he has a dark jacket like the lab coat I gave him in my high school design. I wasn't far off!

No freckles, but in OG canon, they only really showed up when he flushed, so no surprise. I don't expect to see them, but it would be funny if he did flush and they were still there.

Also, I really like the ultraviolet glow of his crown. That makes so much sense.

Insert joke about how Anti-Fairies used to be invisible to the naked eye until Season 5

... He is actually REALLY cute. He looks a lot like his old self.

Are other Anti-Fairies also going to have square heads? I don't mind Foop having a square one if all his species does, but I'll be a bit surprised if he's the only creature with a cube head.

I think it's funny that they took away Peri's eyelashes when he grew up, but left Irep with one. That feels incredibly right.

I love his unique scruffy eyebrows. That's cute.

Irep, who previously had such a traumatizing experience as a godparent that he spent that episode screaming and crying, his magic souring in a range of colors all the way down to green in one of the only appearances of green magic in the series, and literally almost gave up on life before he gained the courage to lash out at Vicky despite knowing full-well his magic would immediately backlash and torture him for it: "I am once again ready to take responsibility for a mean human."

This only exacerbates my analysis of Peri not being ready for godkids and that's flippin' hilarious.

The nerd finally put on shoes!!

Dev wished for it to be tomorrow, so now it's tomorrow (waning crescent, of course).

No Dev-Irep sleepover? Robbed >:(

??? Obsessed with Hazel walking into school chatting about what she spent her night doing. I love how this means Irep just... yoinked Dev forward in time.

/horse in the hospital voice: I didn't know he could do that.

This episode's set-up & plot is just great in general.

Everyone else has gone to bed and Dev's had no sleep or breakfast. He needs a snack.

Ooh, wait- what? Mace wand!! ... I don't think I'll keep that in my canon, but that's a clever way to parallel Poof's staff. It's funny to me that the posh British boy did not get a staff. He WOULD like bashing people with the mace, huh?

It delights me to see Irep left-handed. He's been a leftie since the day he was born, all through to Season 10 :')

I like how Irep started crying when Dev told him he was "better than Peri." I mean... He's not wrong- that IS literally all Foop-Irep has wanted to hear since the minute he was born.

He is literally the same person he's always been. lol.

"Best of Luck" & "Two and a Half Babies"

I wonder if he's still claustrophobic, because that was, like... his big thing after escaping Abracatraz. I doubt it will come up (and he's much older now), but since he's an antagonist, I assume he has a weakness, and that would be an interesting one to bring back.

-> Actually if I'm remembering right, it was his alternate personality's phobia (Foop vehemently denying it while his alter literally screamed at the top of his lungs and doubled down), which is definitely implyin' somethin' about which of them remembers Abracatraz better. Hmm...

FINALLY! I don't think we ever got to see umbrellas open indoors as a form of bad luck in the OG series. It's one of those tiny questions always floating in the back of my mind, sdklfj.

I like how Dev still went to class. He has rule-breaking magic at his fingertips and this is where he's spending his time.

I guess it's not like he can leave the school; his whole goal is to get in that schoolwide Rock, Paper, Scissors competition.

I like Hazel eating from her popcorn bucket of 4-leaf clovers.

is Irep going to try to poke her and then, like... break out in hives or something? lol.

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Pen pal's - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader

Summary: Bill's childhood friend and neighbor writes him a letter after Henry is killed. They keep writing each other throughout the war, but following the events after Bastogne Bill sends a final letter that might end their future before it can really start.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, reader goes by childhood nickname, angst (mentions of war & healing from injuries), does have happy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: Full transparency, this one sorta got away from me but I let my creative muse take over and here we are. I was sitting on this idea for a minute and honestly, I love how it turned out. Hopefully y'all like it too! Comments, likes, and reblogs please!! Thank you!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was two weeks after Henry passed when a letter arrived for Bill. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he knew the return address by heart. It was the house right next door to his childhood home. His suspicions of who it was from was confirmed once he started reading it.

Billy, I've spent the last week trying to figure out something comforting and eloquent to say but all I can come up with is; I'm so sorry about Henry. I can't imagine how you feel. I can't do much to make you feel better over there but I promise to help your mom and sisters with anything they need. You all have been a second family to me my whole life. I pray you stay safe and come home soon. Pip. P.S. I found this picture in one of my old journals and it made me smile. I hope it can do the same for you.

Bill flipped over the photograph that had been included and did, in fact, smile. It was three young kids laughing at the camera, completely covered in mud. He was pulled from the memory of that day when a hand grabbed the picture away from him.

"Henry, Billy, and me." Luz read the back of the picture out loud before flipping it around. "Who's the girl?"

"None of your business." Bill grabbed the picture back and stuffed it in his breast pocket, sending Luz a glare.

Not being fazed at all, Luz leaned over and skimmed at the letter Bill was still holding. "Billy? Who's Pip? Same girl from the picture?"

"Who made you the new Nixon around here? Fuck off, will ya."

"What's got Gonorrhea's in a twist?" Toye asked as he joined the two of them.

"Got some letter and picture from a girl." Luz wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What, girl's not your type anymore?" Toye smirked at Bill.

"Both of you's, shut the fuck up. It's a neighbor I grew up with. She's like family."

"She cute?" Toye asked at the same time Luz said, "Is she single?"

"She's nothing to you two's or I'll break your jaws." With a final glare Bill folded up his letter and walked away. Toye and Luz smirked at each other, knowing this wouldn't be the last time they pissed him off about this mystery girl.

~~

Pip dropped the remaining pieces of mail on the ground and rushed to her room, eager to read the letter addressed to her in messy handwriting. She knew she was smiling like an idiot as she read it, but she didn't care.

Pip, I appreciate you reaching out and taking care of ma and the girls for me. I couldn't ask for anyone better to watch over them. You're picture did make me smile, something I haven't done much of lately. I can still hear our ma's chewing us out over ruining your dress. Said Henry and I were keeping you from being a 'proper lady'. And if I remember correctly your response was you'd be one "when pigs fly". Thanks for reminding me of happy times. Don't be a stranger. Billy.

Two weeks later, another letter arrived.

Pip, I saw a field with some horses in it today and I thought of you. How you always wanted to live just outside the city with some land to have a horse and lots of dogs. I hope you get to have that one day. Maybe I'll come by and visit when you do. Billy

The next day as Pip made to leave the house to drop her response off at the post office, she ran into her mother.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" The gleam in her eye and glance down at the letter in Pip's hand made it obvious she already knew the answer. Pip decide to play along since she was an only child and her mother needed to fuss over someone now and again.

"Just sending a letter back to Bill." She'd stopped calling him Billy out loud to people, but that's who he'd always be to her.

"Yes, I saw he'd send another letter. His poor mother doesn't even get back to back responses that quick. Lucky girl." She mused, smiling at the blush forming on Pip's cheeks.

"It's not like that, we're just old friends."

"Of course. Well, check with his mother and see if they have any mail to send out along with yours." Pip nodded, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and practically sprinted out the houses before any more questions or observations could be made.

~~

Bill couldn't figure out why he was so anxious after sending that second letter to Pip. She was just his neighbor, a life long family friend, like a sister... Well, not entirely like a sister. Henry always saw her like a sister, taking her under his wing and becoming the big brother she didn't have. His sisters saw her as an older sister, someone to play dress-up with and get boy advise from. But him...he'd never really seen her as that. She was family, absolutely. But not his sister.

When her response came, he wasn't sure if his anxiety got worse or better as he ripped it open.

Billy, I would have loved to have seen that field (although, maybe not during war time). I'm surprised you remember that, I think we were seven or eight when I came up with that idea. I never told you but I always imagined you'd live right next door to me and we'd see each other everyday, like we always did before this war. No matter where I end up, I'd still like you to visit. Pip

"Another letter from your 'family friend'?" Toye jumped down into the foxhole next to Bill.

"Why you sayin' it like that? She is a family friend. And what do you care who I get letters from?" Bill grumbled, folding his letter up and stuffing it inside his jacket.

"Luz said her name was, Pip. What's that about?" Toye asked, completely ignoring Bill's grumpy mood and response.

Bill gives a loud sigh, knowing that Toye isn't going to drop it and by extension neither will Luz until they've discovered everything to do with her.

"It's a nickname. Short for Pipsqueak. She was always this tiny little following me and Henry around back home."

"Sounds annoying." Toye says offhandedly, looking at his companion out the side of his eye. He see's a small smile form on Bill's face.

"At first, I guess. But honestly, it became so normal I never really thought about not including her in things." There's a long stretch of silence as they keep watch, then Bill speaks again. "She's family, but she's not my sister. Never has been. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Toye lights up a cigarette, passing one over to Bill. "Should tell her that someday." Bill doesn't respond, just lights up the cigarette and pulls a long drag from it.

~~

The weeks and months that follow are filled with countless letters sent back and forth. There's no declarations of love or detailed accounts of the war, just two people sharing memories or tidbits about their days.

Pip would fill in the blanks about what was going on with his sister's love lives; who was a bum, who seemed nice, who looked weird. Once she gave him the play by play, as she could remember it, of a dinner at his house with the whole family, her, her mother, and a new beau his sister Marie was dating. His name was Paul, but said to call him Paulie. Pip and his two younger sisters, Bianca and Isabella, were on the verge of giggles all night because his voice sounded so much like a parrot and they wanted to ask him if he wanted a cracker. Then there was the shameful cooking lesson their mom's tried to have with Pip, that resulted in five burned pies.

Bill would tell her about the country side they'd go through and different animals he would encounter. He'd also tell her about the guys and stupid shenanigans they'd get up to. How getting shot in the ass started to become an Easy Company right of passage. When he meets Babe, he tells her about another Philly kid that grew up not far from them and how he's alright. He tells her about a game of darts he played with Babe as his partner, against a George Luz and Buck Compton, saying how they lost but he knows if she'd been his partner they would have won because they always make a great team.

They share memories from their childhood, some including Henry some with just the two of them. When she comes across them, Pip sends old pictures of them for him to have. One he becomes especially fond of is them at 16; they're at the local fair, he's holding a huge teddy bear he's just won above his head with one arm, the other is thrown over Pip's shoulder and she's got her arms wrapped around Isabella's shoulders as the younger girl is standing in front of her. They're all smiling, but only Bill and Isabella are looking at the camera. Pip is looking straight at Bill.

He got a lot of ribbing and questions from the guys when that picture came, but he just told them all to 'fuck off'. By this point it was common knowledge that Bill did, but didn't, have a girl back home. The guys loved to annoy him but truly they were happy he had someone, not all of them did.

Slowly, almost naturally, the letter's started becoming more intimate. Not sexually but emotionally. Greetings went from Dear, to Dearest, then Darling, eventually landing on "My Billy/Pip". Signatures would mix some type of variation of "Love, your Billy/Pip" and "Always yours, Billy/Pip". There still hadn't been any type of declaration of feelings, but they'd often write each other about the future and things they wanted to do or see together. They were always together no matter the plan or idea that popped in their heads about life after this war.

Then one day, in a forest in the dead of winter, everything changed.

It had been months since Bill and Toye were shipped back to the hospital for their surgeries and rehabilitation before getting to go home. Months since he'd last responded to one of Pip's letters. He knew, she knew what had happened as he'd written his ma letting her know he was okay after a telegram went out about his injury from the army. He couldn't stand the idea of her being worried sick about him, not after what happened with Henry.

Pip never mentioned the accident, just kept her letters light and full of the day to day happenings. But they always ended the same way, "P.S. Take your time, I'm here when you are ready and I'll always be yours." Each new letter was like a dagger in his heart. He loved her, so much so that he was planning to ask her to marry him when he thought he'd be going home a whole man. But now, how could he ask her to be with him when he wasn't all she deserved?

One day, he grabbed some paper and a pen and started his own version of a Dear John letter.

~~

Pip was both relieved and terrified when she got a letter from Bill. He hadn't responded since being sent to the hospital to have his injury tended to. When his mother had gotten the telegram, all the army had said was that he was injured and being sent out immediately to their primary hospital. After what happened to Henry, she was in a terrible state so Pip pitched in as much as she could while wanting to breakdown herself. Soon enough a letter from Bill himself came and explained the situation as best he could and what was going on, but ultimately letting his mom and sisters know he was already. They'd all cried together when they read that. She waited weeks but no letter arrived for her. As time went on, she accepted that he needed time to heal and figure things out, so she kept sending him updates on his family and things in town, praying that one of them would trigger some type of response. Now she held one in her hands and she didn't know what it would contain.

Sitting in her room, she opened the letter and with each word felt her heart breaking.

My Pip, I am sorry I have not written. Truthfully, I have not known what to say. I know you must have gotten updates from my ma on my condition and I suppose that was the cowards way of letting you know and again, I am sorry. I didn't think this was how I would be telling you this but, I love you. I'm so damn, madly in love with you it's all I can think about lying here. But I can't keep this going any longer. You deserve someone not scarred, literally and emotionally, from this war and the horrors that have leaked inside me. I want you to have everything you've ever dreamed about. I just can't be the one to give it to you. I will love you till my last breathe. Love you always, Billy

With her letter crumpled in her hands, Pip curled up into her bed and cried until there was nothing left to come out.

~~

Bill knew he should feel lucky. Hell, he was the luckiest damn bastard he knew of right now. He was finally home after being away for years, seeing the worst of human nature, eating a home cooked meal surrounded by his mother and sisters that he'd missed terribly. But there was still a large aching hole in his heart the shape of the girl next door. He'd been home for a month and they'd yet to run into each other. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her after the letter he'd sent, but that didn't stop him from praying for just one glance.

His sisters had seen her a few times since he'd been home, but every time he asked how she was they just shot him a glare and changed the subject. They obviously knew enough to have picked her side and he couldn't blame them.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, William." His mother's voice brought him back to the present. "Everything okay?" He suddenly felt like a child again under her critical gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good ma." He slapped on a quick smile, which dropped quickly at hearing Bianca and Isabella snort and cough at the end of the table. "What's up with you two?"

"They're tired of you lying. We all are." Marie sent him a cold look.

"I'm not lying about anything." He clenched his jaw to keep his temper in check. These were his sisters, not the boys, he couldn't react like he wanted.

"Yes, you are. Pip is too. You're both miserable. We see it everyday. Just admit you made a mistake and apologize." Marie turned fully to face him and gave him a look that challenged him to deny any of it.

Before he could say anything, his mother cut in. "Girls, go to your rooms. I wanna speak with William. Go on." She gave them her no nonsense look when they didn't move fast enough. With a few grumbles they all left the room and the silence that over took Bill and her was tense.

"Ma, I don't want to talk about it." Bill sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You don't have to speak, just listen, yeah? You're my child and when you have a child you pray that they find happiness and have all of their dreams come true. It sounds foolish, but that's the truth. Throughout the years, I've always believed that your happiness lie with Pip and when you started writing each other I knew I was right. Every time she would relay some story you wrote her or say "Bill said this, Bill said that" it was like looking in a mirror to when I first fell for your father. Once you've had a great love, you recognize it in other people. Now, looking at both of you all I can see is myself after your father passed. A sorrow that settles in the bones and your soul and never quite goes away. I know you had the best intentions in mind when you did, what you did, but if it's slowly killing you both inside was it really for the best?"

Bill couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, too afraid he'd completely break down, so he stared at his plate and fiddled with the table clothe. Eventually his mom got up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and left him alone with his thoughts.

~~

Two days later, Pip stood at the back door of the Guarnere house. She'd promised Bianca she'd help her pick a dress for her upcoming dance and after much back and forth, and almost tears, had agreed to come to their house only because Bianca swore Bill would be gone. As she entered the kitchen, she called out to Bianca but didn't receive an answer. She walked further into the house, heading towards the living room still calling out.

"Bianca? Anybody? Hello? I swear if she stood me up, I'm gonna kill her." Just as she finished her though out loud, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the middle of the room stood Bill on his crutches, holding her favorite flowers in one hand. Every time she opened her mouth to say something, she couldn't think of anything and closed it again. Eventually, Bill broke the silence.

"Don't be mad at Bianca, I bribed her to get you over here. I understand if you don't want to hear anything I have to say and walk out, but if you give me a few minutes I swear you'll never have to see me again if that's your wish." Hesitantly, Pip walked into the living room and followed Bill's lead by sitting on the sofa. Slowly she took the flowers from him and laid them in her lap, meeting his eyes.

"I've been practicing what to say all day, but can't seem to remember a damn thing now." He gave a humorless chuckled, clenching and unclenching his hands to steady himself. "What I did, all of it, is unforgivable. I...All I could think about in that hospital was all the things I wouldn't be able to do with you. All the things I might not be able to give you. I believed I was doing what was right, by pushing you away so you could find someone else. But underneath all of that I was scared too. Scared you'd see me now and think less of me. Would always look at me with pity in your eyes and I'd never be that great man you deserve. Now, I'm scared I've lost the only person that matters. Every day since I sent that letter, and especially since being home, it's felt like a wound is festering inside me and I can't fix it. I know I've hurt you, and I'll never forgive myself for that, but if you can just give me a chance to make it right I'll spend forever making it up to you."

Bill would've given her his beating heart if she asked for it. The longer the silence stretched, the more he was sure she would say goodbye. He held his breathe as one of her hands, shakily raised and cupped his cheek. She had tears in her eyes.

"How could I possibly look at you and think less? You've been everything I ever wanted since we were kids. And now everyone knows what I always knew, that you're a hero and a great man. We've had each other backs for forever, I don't think we should stop now. I don't care if we can't do certain things the way we talked about, we will find new ways to do them. All I want, all I've ever wanted, is you by my side. I'll accept your apology under on condition."

"Anything." His answer was immediate.

"Kiss me." The words were barely out when he pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to her, firmly and with all the passion he had inside him.

Bonus scene: 6 months later

Everyone seemed to be having a good time; drinks were flowing, people were dancing, and in the corner taking a break from mingling, the bride and groom were sipping champagne and sneaking kisses.

"When can we leave?" Bill mutters, nipping her bottom lip quickly.

"I spent all day getting ready, I'm wearing this dress as long as possible." She half joked, taking a sip from her flute.

"I never said you had to take it off." Bill whispers in her ear, smirking at the blush on her cheeks.

"Control yourself and I'll let you take it off, however you want." She shoots him a wink and then grabs her purse, pulling a small box out of it. "Here, I have a gift for you."

Bill raises an eyebrow, taking the box from her. "What is it?"

"Just open it." She smiles at him.

Bill pulls the top off and pulls out a little figurine, laughing instantly. It's a small pig with wings attached. When pigs fly. He looks back and her and cups her cheek.

"I love you, Mrs. Guarnere."

"I love you, Mr. Guarnere."

[callsignthirsty]

Chapter 2: On the Roof

Shit weather can only stop me for so long! Here's chapter 2

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron “Slider” Kerner Summary: The boys receive their commendations, and you keep your legs crossed. Should be easy, right? Wrong. Word Count: 3680 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) Chapter: 2/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

“Sooo,” Maria Cortell leans as far forward as her bump will allow, drawing out the word with a smile on her lips. It’s become apparent that you’ll be waiting a while for your stolen tablemates to walk onto the stage and receive their commendations. “Are wedding bells ringing?”

Your poor heart, which had only just slowed, skips an unsteady beat. Maria’s question, for as simple as it is, packs one helluva wallop.

The thought hasn’t crossed your mind. You haven’t even said I love you—not for a lack of love, but because you’ve lost many of the ones you love over your life. Admitting the depth of your feelings—whether for family, friends, or beaus—always seems to precede an abrupt departure of said person from your life. But now that Maria has mentioned it, what are you supposed to do?

Distracted, you twist your cloth napkin between clammy hands. It’s not like you can marry Ice and Slider, but you can’t date Ice forever, either. especially not if he’s trying to climb the ladder. He’s expected to marry. To have kids. The white picket fence experience. A wife to come home to.

“They must be,” Merlin’s wife jumps in.

Maria nods with the enthusiasm you wish you felt. “Bill and I were looking at houses after three months. I’m sure you’ve at least talked about it.”

Goose throws back a full glass of wine.

They think they’re being supportive, and it would be nice if it weren’t so terrifying. “I–”

“And now’s the perfect time,” Maria doesn’t even realize she’s cut you off. “Who knows how long he’ll be stationed at Miramar?”

“Ooh! You could get married on the beach.”

Cougar catches your lack of participation. “Don’t scare her off, now,” Cougar says, placing his hand on top of his wife’s to get her attention.

“Oh please,” Laura brushes Cougar aside, “they’ve been practically wrapped around each other all night. Ron said they’ve been inseparable.”

Maria sighs. “Poor Ron.” Carole chokes, but the only one who pays her any mind is Goose, who smacks her between her shoulder blades and refills her water. “I remember how close he and Tom were at Pensacola, must be hard for him to watch his friend settle down–“ something must flit across your face because she hesitates mid-sentence, her eyes widen a little as she realizes the insinuation, and she all but lunges for the distraction of her sentry of a water glass, “–but, um, I’m sure you have a friend you could set him up with?”

“Oh,” Goose interjects loud enough to turn a couple of heads and incite a stern look from Jester, “I think this is them.”

It isn’t.

“That would be fun,” Laura coos back to Maria without skipping a beat. “Think of the double dates.”

“Come on,” Goose tries again, “you don’t want to set someone up with Kerner, do you?” And didn’t Goose know it. He squawks when Carole catches him in the ribs with her elbow, but Maria and Laura are off to the races, passing the idea back and forth and painting a picture of your future while you struggle to keep up.

“You’ll always have someone to keep you company when they end up on a carrier halfway around the world.” Maria.

A sly look from Laura. “You know, if you time it right, your kids can grow up together.”

“Community is so important,” Maria agrees, ducking around a waiter’s arm as dinner plates are settled.

“Sam and I were lucky enough to be stationed near my family when we had the girls.”

“I don’t know what I’d have done without the wives’ group while I was pregnant with Robbie.” Maria gives her husband a tender smile and smoothes a hand over her belly. Whatever she says next is drowned out by applause.

This time—as Goose breathes an “Oh, thank god”—a familiar group of flyboys are led onto the stage. The commander keeps it brief; says some words about the Layton mission and the courageous efforts of the aviators who defended the boat from enemy MiGs. Everyone gets a pin on their lapel before they’re all ushered off the stage. Your legs are crossed by the time they make it back to the table.

The rest of the dinner passes without issue. Plates are cleared. The program comes to a close with the cutting of a cake. A cacophony of music and conversation erupts as the masses are released from their seats and the event finally catches its second wind. More immediately around you, the flyboys spill into the space between their tables and continue catching up.

Hollywood and Sundown introduce their dates—fiancée and wife, respectively—to the larger group. Jester and his wife sneak off, presumably to find Viper but definitely different company. It’s a relief to gain more social padding between yourself, Maria, and Laura, well-meaning though they may be.

It’s while you’re reacquainting yourself with the rest of the group when Hollywood asks Slider if he’s flying solo these days.

“What’s it look like?” Slider grumbles.

Wolfman slings an arm around his fellow RIO’s shoulders to pull him close. “Aw, man. What happened?”

Slider gives him a half-shrug, looking otherwise unaffected. “You know how it is. Couldn’t handle the job.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Chipper chimes in. “You’re still at Miramar.”

“So she dumped you?” Wolf’s winces as he looks up at Slider, taking his silence for confirmation. “Yikes.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like that–”

“Don’t mind them,” Sundown says, an arm wrapped around his wife. She beams at him when he assures Slider,“The right one will stick around.”

And the conversation could’ve ended there. Wolf, Chip, and Sli could’ve spent the rest of the night wingmanning each other until it was time to turn in and Slider would slip into your quarters.

Maria Cortell had other plans. “Don’t be ridiculous! We were just talking about how the future missus must have a friend she can set you up with.” Cheeks flaming, you tuck into Ice’s side in an attempt to escape his gaze. “Future missus?” His tone gives nothing away, but the stiffening of his arm beneath your hand speaks volumes.

Beside Ice, Slider raises a brow. “Were you, now?” This is a conversation you were hoping to avoid.

“Please,” Pete scoffs. “I wouldn’t wish Kerner on anyone.”

Slider sneers, but it doesn’t have any real heat behind it. “Bite me, Mitchell.”

And bless Carole Bradshaw because she sees Pete opening his mouth to say, “Which one?” from a mile away and deploys a very loud countermeasure: “I wanna dance!”

Goose grabs his wife’s hand and pulls her to sit across his lap. “Great idea, honey!” he crows, earning a kiss on the cheek.

For as long as you’ve known him, Goose has always been a darling. Everyone knows it, too. The sun is hot. Water is wet. Everyone loves Goose. His close call on Hop 31 only cemented that last truth. Nick Bradshaw is magnetic in a way few others are, and he could pull a crowd just as easily at the piano as he could, apparently, at his wife’s beck-and-call.

The display of eager, honeyed affection drawing the eyes and smiles of the group.

“C’mon, Mav, give us a push!” Goose loops his arms around Carole as she makes herself comfortable in his lap for the taxi to the dancefloor. “Should be a—what did you call it?—a target-rich environment.”

“Wait. You not seeing Blackwood anymore?” Hollywood asks, receiving ‘oohs’ from the rest of the men. Pete’s shoulder’s bunch, but otherwise, he ignores his friends. Though she was a civilian contractor, Charlie did work for the DoD, and after her relocation to D.C., Pete was technically on her turf tonight.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Ice deflects.

Pete grabs hold of Goose’s wheelchair, finding it more difficult to maneuver with two passengers.  “I wonder if Penny’s here.”

Carole throws her head back with a guffaw. “After your little joyride? I’d be surprised if her daddy lets her within a thousand feet of you!”

The group doesn’t stick together much longer, inevitably breaking up as they go their separate ways.

“What do you say?” Ice asks, nodding after the group headed to the dancefloor. Eventually, Ice needs to go back to rubbing shoulders with the brass, but there’s no harm in a quick dance or two to break up the monotony.

“That’s okay, Ice,” Slider butts in, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. You repress a shiver when the same hand that had been between your legs squeezes your shoulder, fingers ghosting over the velvet near your collarbone. “You go keep Mav out of trouble. We’ll grab dessert and meet you there.”

The twitch at the corner of his lips gives away how hard Slider is fighting to keep the wolfish grin off his lips. Your ears burn, but Ice’s only reaction is an unenthused, dismissive sound. Both of you know what Slider is playing. That doesn’t stop the pinpricks of arousal from returning as you imagine Slider’s hands—both of them this time—working to finish what he’d started under the table.

“How long have we known each other?” Ice asks Slider.

“Going on ten years.”

“And I can count the number of times I’ve seen you eat cake on one hand,” Ice muses.

Undeterred, Slider offers you a lopsided, wolfish grin, his fingers tracing down your arm and raising goosebumps in their wake. “Who said anything about cake?”

“There it is.” Ice flicks Slider’s fingers from their path and threads his fingers through your own. The same Iceman mask he wears around the tarmac is firmly in place when he levels Slider with a look. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re pissy because I had this in the bag before I was interrupted.”

“And how were you planning on getting away with it?” Ice hisses with a glance to make sure the three of you are well enough alone. “Sitting at a table full of people.”

“I had a plan,” Slider scoffs.

“A plan to get caught with your hand up her skirt.”

“You’re just upset you walked right into it.” Ice clenches his teeth. He doesn’t have a responding quip, and Slider knows it. Ice had been too excited by the sudden appearance of Cougar to realize Slider was gunning for a quick win. “All it takes is one mistake,” Slider needles.

Wearing down the competition with technical precision is a page straight out of Ice’s book and his fingers twitch ever so slightly in your grasp, Slider rubbing it in his face that he’s fallen prey to his own game. It’s a mistake he won’t make twice.

Ice takes a deep breath and looks to the barrel-vaulted ceiling as if he’ll find the answers he’s looking for among the gold leafing. “We’re leaving now.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” Slider taunts, but Ice is back on his game. He serves Slider a smug look as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Goodbye, Kerner.”

In the dance hall, you’re a single drop in a rolling sea. The band is louder here, the floor tacky with spilled beverages, but you find a pocket of space as the music slows. Pete hangs onto the edge of the crowd with Goose and Carole, his face pressed between Goose’s shoulder blades as he helps his best friend stand to dance with his wife—Carole, you’re sure, is crying.

Gentle hands bring your focus back to your partner as he encourages you to step with him to the rhythm. When you look up at him through your lashes, you almost forget the rest of the room. Taken by the flint of his eyes in the low light. A smile bubbles to life on your rouged lips is an inevitability.

You spin beneath his arm and let Ice reel you in until his breath tickles your ear. “You’re stunning.” You glow under the praise, fingers playing with the short hairs at his nape. High praise.

It makes you wonder: does Ice even know what he looks like?

The ever-present tan of his skin highlighted by the contrasting white of his uniform. The smarts. The confidence. A beauty mark on his jaw. High cheekbones. The way he moves.

He has to know. Not for vanity, but for fact. 

“How’re you holding up?” He must pick up on the restless twitch of your muscles or maybe the flutter of your heart in your palm.

You paint on a smile. ”I’m fine.”

You can’t suppress the shudder that wracks you or the sharp intake of breath when he lifts your chin with a finger, lashes brushing your cheeks as a kiss is pressed to your forehead. When he tugs you closer, you go easily, but you’re unable to fully relax into the embrace.

“Did you know you only say you’re fine when you aren’t?” He shifts his hold so it feels more like a hug, a soft quirk to his lips. It’s easier for him to hold you like this when you fade into the crowd. There’s less pressure. Fewer eyes on him when his hand shifts lower, dexterous fingers tracing over the knobs of your spine and raising goosebumps beneath the luxurious drape of your gown.

The band does wonders to mute your gasp, but Ice doesn’t miss the way you jerk in his grasp. Sensitive.

“Was it…?” He doesn’t finish in an overabundance of caution for who may or may not be eavesdropping. The hand you’d let linger near his nape comes to fidget against his chest as you lay your head against his shoulder and nod while focusing on the ba-dum of his heart. “Do you need to leave?”

“No.” Sure, you tingle with each brush of skin on skin. Yes, you’re eager to soak up each touch. But, as you meet his eyes, you mean it. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by all of this,” you fib.

Slider may be pushing the boundaries of decency—may have definitely blown past them during the dinner— and you may be wound tight after so many days without either of their company, but you can do this. Tonight is about Ice, and you intend to see it through.

“But I don’t want to leave.”

Ice keeps you close as the song fades out and the band counts in a fast-paced number. “Look,” Ice concedes when you break free of the dancing. Playtime is over, you can practically see the cogs turning in the metal of his eyes as Ice comes up with a revised plan. “There are still some people I need to talk to, but after, I’ll get us out of–”

“Just the man I was looking for.” Ice stops so abruptly that you stumble into him. “Admiral John Benjamin,” Penny’s father introduces himself, taking Ice’s hand in a firm shake. “Really good stuff on the Enterprise.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The praise, though sparing, is well-deserved. But the obsequious nature of his comment is revealed in the way the admiral’s eyes scan the nearby crowd. Ice isn’t his target.

“Say,” the admiral drawls as he drops all pretenses, “you wouldn’t happen to know where your wingman is? I want to congratulate him on a job well done.”

You very much doubt that, but as you glance over to where Pete had been with Goose and Carole earlier, he’s long gone—Carole helping her husband back into his wheelchair, the only evidence Pete had been there at all. And Ice knows enough through retellings of Pete’s past run-ins with Admiral Benjamin that you trust him not to sell your brother out. At least, not if he doesn’t have to.

“I haven’t seen him since we received our commendation.”

“Of course. Congratulations again on those,” Benjamin clips. “But you must have some sort of idea of his whereabouts.”

“I–”

“Ice. Admiral, sir.” It never ceases to amaze you how someone as large as Slider can so easily fly under the radar when he wants to. “I need to borrow her for a minute,” he says before Ice can say anything, and because he can’t do anything when Admiral Benjamin continues to squeeze for information on Pete, Slider steers you out of the dance hall.

It had been a crisp 66 degrees in DC, the setting of the sun taking what remained of the day’s warmth with it. The cold creeps beneath your skin as Slider beckons you up the roof access, shimming the door with a wad of folded cocktail napkins so you can slip back to the party later.

Though shrouded in darkness on the flat of the rooftop, the bright lights of the capital might as well be a hair’s breadth away. Too close for comfort. Before you can protest, Slider engulfs your hand in his and looks for a more suitable, more private corner. It won’t do to be caught, though Slider doubts anyone will come looking. But it pays to be cautious.

“You have any idea how good you look in this?” Slider rumbles, voice resonating from deep within his chest in a way that makes your insides quake. He lets you know with a demanding kiss, his lips lightly stained with your rouge when he pulls back so you can suck in a breath.

“Sli.” The wind carries your whine toward the street, where it’s drowned by the brassy horns of street traffic. When goosebumps erupt along your arms, your fingers scrabble for his shoulder boards in a bid to keep him close.

It takes next to nothing to convince Slider to give in to your plea. Crowding close as he smears kisses and color down your neck. “It’s been so hard to keep my hands off you.” Said hands grab fistfuls of you over the velvet of your gown; the smooth rasp of the fabric over tender skin makes you gasp.

“You didn’t,” you point out.

“No,” he agrees, fingers reacquainting themselves with the gusset of your panties. “But can you blame me?”

“Who else would I blame?”

Dizzy with desire, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep a heady whine locked away when fingers slip between your pussy lips to tease around your entrance. “Do you want me to stop?” Slider asks with a lopsided, teasing grin.

“Don’t you dare.”

Instead of giving you what you want—two fingers to fill you where you feel hopelessly empty—Slider’s hand withdraws from your panties. You’re a second from demanding he put his hand right back where he had it when Slider lowers himself to the ground. “Wait–!” you exclaim as his first knee touches down on the unkempt rooftop floor “–your pants.”

“Don’t worry,” he says as both of his hands slip under your dress, eager fingers drawing the lacy elastic of your panties down your legs. “That’s what drycleaning’s for.” But his other knee stays decidedly off the ground.

Slider scoots himself closer, impatient hands rucking up your tight-fitting dress until he can take advantage of the slit in your skirt. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, soft skin exposed to the night, but you’re far from cold as he chases the fabric with scorching kisses up the inside of your thigh. Deliberately leaving marks where no one else at this stuffy party will see them.

His hair is just long enough that the tips begin to curl. You spear your fingers through the short waves and fist what you can. Normally, you’d hold him close as he litters your hip with hungry kisses and sharp, rosey blooms, but with the way he’d worked you up earlier, you pull his head toward the apex of your thighs. You can go back to being Ice’s pretty trophy girlfriend after you cum on Slider’s tongue.

Slider lets out a gruff rumble of a chuckle as if he’s read your mind. A nip makes your leg jump in his grasp, your heel knocking against his back, but he’s as eager to get this show on the road as you are.

Face half-obscured by black velvet, Slider’s tongue laps over your clit. Eyes slamming shut, whole body pulsing in time with your heart, head thunking back against the wall. Slack-jawed, you encourage him to do it again with a shuttered but wanton noise in the back of your throat.

“That’s it,” Slider encourages, his other hand reaching up to massage your ass and drag your hips forward in a slick grind against his mouth. You tremble in his grasp as he continues to roll your hips against his face before he opts for a new angle of attack.

A quick reposition of the leg over Slider’s shoulder grants him better access for a more thorough assault on your cunt, and your back arches when his tongue prods at your entrance. Blood roars in your ears while your walls clench around nothing at the promise of his tongue, but it only teases at your lips.

You try to drag him closer with your one leg, letting go of Slider’s hair with one hand to steady yourself against the wall. Sli takes that moment to dive in, tongue finally fucking into you and his nose bumping into your clit in a way that has your heart stuttering and limbs shaky. Your hips jolt at the touch, back arching off the wall.

It’s messy, the pinpricks of Slider’s stubble eased by the mix of arousal and spit coating the apex of your thighs. The barely muffled slurp as he parts your lips and delves his tongue inside before engulfing your clit in the wet heat of his mouth and giving it a suck.

Slider’s eyes are half-lidded when he meets your gaze. “You’re close,” he breathes, calloused fingers petting up your leg directly to your clit and drinking in the shiver it knocks loose, your lips red as you bite back a moan. “Don’t worry,” he says, two fingers dipping the slightest bit into your cunt before drawing back to rub at the opening, “we’ll get you there this time.”

Against your back, the wall rattles as the roof access bangs open.

Next Chapter

[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans, homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More info about the tournament here!

Lyrics for the songs under the cut <3

Begin Again lyrics

Took a deep breath in the mirror

He didn't like it when I wore high heels, but I do

Turn the lock and put my headphones on

He always said he didn't get this song, but I do, I do

I walked in expecting you'd be late

But you got here early and you stand and wave

I walk to you

You pull my chair out and help me in

And you don't know how nice that is, but I do

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

But on a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again

You said you never met one girl who

Had as many James Taylor records as you, but I do

We tell stories and you don't know why

I'm coming off a little shy, but I do

But you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

But on a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again

And we walked down the block to my car

And I almost brought him up

But you start to talk about the movies

That your family watches every single Christmas

And I wanna talk about that

And for the first time, what's past is past

'Cause you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

But on a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again

But on a Wednesday in a café, I watched it begin again

All Too Well lyrics

I walked through the door with you

The air was cold

But something 'bout it felt like home somehow and I

Left my scarf there at your sister's house

And you've still got it in your drawer even now

Oh, your sweet disposition

And my wide-eyed gaze

We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

And I can picture it after all these days

And I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more

And I might be okay but I'm not fine at all, oh-oh-oh

'Cause there we are again on that

Little town street

You almost ran the red 'cause you were

Looking over at me

Wind in my hair, I was there

I remember it all too well

Photo album on the counter

Your cheeks were turning red

You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee ball team

You taught me about your past, thinking your future was me

And I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do

And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night

We're dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

Down the stairs, I was there

I remember it all too well, yeah

And maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece

Till you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well

And you call me up again

Just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'Cause I remember it all, all, all too well

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again but I'm still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week

'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me

You can't get rid of it

'Cause you remember it all too well

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all

Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

[jjk-confessions]

This is gonna be a mini rant of at least something I’ve noticed in the fandom.

Yuji and Gojo have such a good freaking relationship and have so many parallels between them. Yet for some odd reason I don’t see it get talked about enough. Or at least outside of the common boring “they are so father son coded” which I don’t think btw. It gives more friends vibes or older brother younger sibling vibe.

That being said, I remember when I first got into jjk and they were my favourite dynamic. Up until everything fell apart post Shibuya and different characters got introduced and Gojo went missing for a while blah blah blah. And I know people lovvveeeee to center Gojo’s character now all around Hidden inventory or shinjuku, but I kinda miss early series Gojo too.

As for their parallels:

An aspect people don’t tackle with Yuji’s character is his inherent loneliness. It’s one he’s grappled with since he was a kid, he even says so himself when he was talking to Kamo during the baseball game and when he spoke to Megumi about how his physical strength always isolated him in ways that sometimes he couldn’t understand the pain of ordinary people because he was always able to bear it, especially when his grandpa got sick but chose not to do any treatments.

And multiple times it can be inferred from the fact that he never even had a phone prior to coming to jujutsu high, or the fact that the occult club members were the first people he ever actually almost considered friends. I even remember that cute scene where Yuji bonded over movies with Junpei and asked for his number but wasn’t sure how to add contacts on them.

Same could be said with Gojo. Raised as the future strongest of his generation and probably never had any friends until he got to jujutsu high and he finally met someone who he felt he could relate to on the only thing he’s ever prided himself on: his strength.

Where Gojo and Yuji differ tho, is Yuji’s willingness to embrace a different kind of future. A future where he doesn’t have to be lonely. Where he can have friends and let them in regardless of their strength, morals, or backgrounds. To just be….

Gojo unfortunately never got to really experience that and I wish he did.

People bemoan and rant about how Gojo was treated like a weapon and never really loved by everyone but never actually acknowledge the part Gojo played in that. He drew the line between himself and others, he was the one who placed too much value on strength and trying to replicate a time in his life that he couldn’t get back to. This isn’t to chastise him of course, but in a way his own shortsightedness kept him from seeing the bigger picture sometimes.

Which is why I really loved the final conversation he had with Yuji and how it ties into 236. When Nanami told him that in his final moments he had chosen to bet on the future ( which he never did before), you see Gojo resign himself and finally feel a sense of hope and a little bit of satisfaction because of that conversation and realisation he had with Yuji.

He recognised the ways in which Yuji differed from him. He recognized Yuji’s strength lied not only in his physical capabilities but in his heart as well. His strength to forgive and see things beyond just strength as a sorcerer. It’s what ultimately ended Sukuna’s curse too. By Yuji choosing to tell Sukuna that they could try again, despite everything, to choose to do better, choose a different path; it touched Sukuna in ways that just punching him and defeating him wouldn’t have worked. Wouldn’t have calmed the rage of his curse that had been eating him from within since the day he was born.

And that’s what Gojo wanted. For Yuji to lead the next generation with a different kind of strength. It’s beautiful and I wish people talked about this more.

Idk if it’s the fear of being seen as a shipper or whatever if you speak of Gojo in any other context outside of HI but yeah this is soooo underrated imo.

.

[bakugoushotwife]

family man // touya todoroki

a/n: this request was adorable! i love dabi sm and my favorite delusional past time is pretending i can fix him

summary: touya never pictured being a family oriented man, yet he's traversing the aisles of a local grocery store in the early hours of the morning just to satisfy your pregnancy cravings---and he's never been happier.

cw: fluff, domestic dabi, let's pretend everything w him and his family is all good!, uh pregnancy ig

wc: 1.7k

He never thought he would be here. He was honestly surprised he had even lived this long, nevermind all the perks of life he finds himself surrounded by these days. He doesn’t even remember contemplating a future. Even when he was really young and his only dream was to be a hero, he imagined himself alone. 

But then he met you. You were…his lifeboat. He would have blown up on his family if he hadn’t stumbled across you in that grocery store that day. Of all the places to fall in love, he thought he was safe at the grocery store. Especially with his appearance and reputation, never in a million years did he imagine a dainty and cute little woman struggling to reach a jar of her favorite pasta sauce, perilously moved to the top shelf. 

You sigh in relief when you see him. He swears that’s the first time he’s ever gotten that response from a stranger before. Then you surprise him again when your eyes gleam with recognition, and you still smile. 

“Oh I know you! Dabi–League of Villains!” You hum, even adding your own inflection to his affiliation like it was a scary movie or something…not as dangerous. You point up to the jar. “I know it kinda goes against your whole m.o., but would you mind grabbing that jar for me?”

How could he say no to a face like that? You were breathtaking, and he wastes no time checking out the thickness of your thighs and the roundness of your ass before giving you a nonchalant nod. He strolls over, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “True fans call me Touya.” 

You laugh at his arrogant face, and that certainly humbles him. You’re gorgeous and you’re unafraid, those two made a dangerous combination. “I’m no fan, Touya.” You hum, leaning against your shopping cart. He reaches up for the jar, and you never take your eyes off of him. He feels it, he knows. He’s a little confused, though he rationalizes your friendliness to pity, maybe, or just a fetish of yours if he had to guess. He holds the jar out, and you make it a point to brush against his fingers when you take it from him, a cheeky grin on your face. 

His eyes widen slightly, and he nearly jerks away out of instinct, but there’s a glimmer in your eyes that tells him to pursue this, that there’s something there. So when you offer to let him come home with you to try the pasta sauce you made such a hassle for, he can’t help but give you a lopsided toothy grin, and follow after you. 

That leads him here, in the aisles of the same grocery store he stood in five years ago when he met you. A lot has changed since then, he thinks to himself while browsing the store for hot cheetos and chocolate covered strawberries, and the banana mochi they’re always out of. In any other event, he would think you’re nasty. Would he refuse to get it for you? Probably still no, but he would give you hell for it.

But now, he can’t blame you. It’s only his responsibility to get these things for you. It makes your life easier, which definitely makes his life easier. Sure the combo is wicked, but what baby Todoroki wants, she gets. He can’t deny the mother of his child anything, and if their daughter wants this ghastly diet, then he will drag his ass to the store at, he checks his phone, 1:02 AM, to get them for the loves of his life. 

He locates the items, and slinks off to checkout. He definitely never thought of kids. Even after you. He just assumed it was a part of his life he would never experience, why would anyone want kids with him? But for your three year anniversary, you asked to try. He was shocked, it took him days to really think about it and try to think of a baby. He struggled. He thought of you holding that baby cousin of yours, but that was different, it wasn’t yours. When he tries to make the baby look like him, he struggles harder. It’s easy to think of the image when the baby looks like you, instead. And he knows you’d make an amazing mother. You have the personality, the love in your heart, the desire. He can’t deny you that. He would be remiss to say he could break things off with you so you could find someone more suited to be a father, but he knows he’s too far in at this point. He could never let you go. So days later, when he comes to you and agrees to try for a real life human baby of his very own, he does it for you. Because he wants to show you he loves you and is willing to compromise. He’s willing to help you and take care of a screaming brat just because he’s wrapped around your finger. 

He didn’t imagine how much he would love it. He chuckles as he walks home, bags in hand, banana mochi secured. It’s like his life was separated into before you and after you. Everything he thought of pre-you was thrown out, and he’s been surprised with every twist that’s come after-you. No one would believe him if he admitted the giddiness in his step to get back home to his very pregnant wife, the woman who’s saved his life and made him another. No one would believe it if he told them that he’s spent hours scrolling through baby girl names on google and he actually picked the name your daughter will bear once she’s born. 

That’s fine, he doesn’t really need anyone else to believe him. Even when he strolls through the door of your shared home with a loud, begrudging sigh, he grins when he sees your shining face. He can’t pretend like your request bothered him, no matter how tough he wishes he could be in front of you. The sight of you wiggling your hips to get off the couch and waddle over and hug him, seven and a half months pregnant, is enough to make any man feel like he’s won the lottery.

He still remembers the day you told him that you were pregnant. You know how he hates massive celebrations or big flashy statements, so you came up with a more intimate and sweet plan.You just waited for him to get home that day, clutching the test tightly in your fist with a small pair of baby shoes you were able to crochet with all the time on your hands. When he comes in the door and you don’t greet him, he frowns. He’s prepared to make a dramatic scene when he pokes his head in the bedroom and sees you posing with the items. Your grin is impossibly wide and he can’t believe what he’s seeing. It took a while, but here you were, finally pregnant. He was filled with so much excitement but also so much fear, he only choked out a gasp and pulled you into his arms in response. He began to wrack his brain for a solution, on how to be a dad in nine months or less. He wasn’t even sure he was a good husband—but your loving and tender hand on his face brought him back to reality. Your smile is relaxed and you are nothing but ready. He knows if nothing else, you’ll teach him. 

But it turns out fatherhood is something that comes to him quite naturally. He baby-proofs the entire house the day you hit six months and he decides to have his sister host a giant baby shower. Even if he isn’t into big events, you are, and you deserved to be doted on and spoiled and given gifts before you gave him the greatest one of his life. 

That’s why he holds you like he does now, like he hasn’t seen you in years or like this is the last time he ever will. Because he’s so grateful, for everything you’ve given him and will continue to give for the rest of your lives, but he’ll never know how to tell you that. So he can only hug you tight and dangle the bags of your requested cravings in your face, a mischievous grin donning his features. 

“There mama, now baby girl can let you sleep.” He says, resting a gentle hand over the bump you’ve formed. It’s not yet big enough to keep you from hugging, and he’ll relish that for now by running his palm over his daughter’s temporary home. 

You cheer happily, digging through the bags and going for the banana mochi first. He chuckles, he knew that you would. He feels the baby kick into his hand upon your first bite, and he shakes his hand at his women. So dramatic. But he can’t deny the satisfaction he feels when he crouches to her level, his gravelly tone low just for the girl growing inside. 

“Hey, let mama rest or you’ll come out all lumpy or something.” He huffs, his turquoise eyes flickering up to you when the baby responds to his voice with more kicking. 

“She will not be lumpy—don’t lie to her!” You snicker, resting your hand on top of snow-white hair. 

He pokes his tongue out at you like it was supposed to be a secret. “I was trying to help ya, now you get what you get.” He chuckles, kissing the top of your belly before rising to kiss you too, hand still on your stomach. 

You return his kiss but shake your head. “She kicks because of you, you goober. She’s performing for her dad.” You hum, easily downing the snacks. He contemplates the idea, his heart warming. Maybe his daughter did like the sound of his voice. He hums appreciatively, and sighs his content. 

“Well, if yer listenin’, it’s past your bedtime.” He huffs, but he means this to you as well. It’s been getting harder to sleep the bigger you get, so he’s having to be more of an authority on your care than he’d like to be. “Off to bed, both of you.” He grumbles, leading you down the hall for more cuddles, back rubs, head scratches, or even more snacks if that’s what you want, whatever will get you to sleep. His night will be spent wondering if his daughter will look like you like he had always hoped when he finally gets to meet her.

[fobnsfwdoodlesbackup]

Hi y'all, I just wanted to talk a little about the behind the scenes of what I've been up to, to give y'all a little transparency and to open myself up for any tips or input! 🙏 Thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to look at my art 🫶

First and foremost I wanted to give some transparency about my art capacity.

As og followers may remember, I started this blog when I was doing art full time. Eventually my living expenses grew and I had to go back to work. I find myself in a cycle of "I'll make more art soon, once I get a job!" And "I'll make more art soon, once I am done with this job!" I lost my most recent job suddenly, having had an extension waved over my head until the last day(October 7th). Now I'm excited to have more time for art, but I am also feeling a rush to get a new job ASAP as I've been living paycheck to paycheck. I dream of doing this work full time, I'm just scared it's not quite there yet and I worry that I come off as scammy or dishonest when I anticipate more stability around the corner.

Second, I've been struggling with the Patreon. It's taken me a while to come to terms with this, but from what I've seen Patreon is not intuitive at all from the creator end. It doesn't do a good job of organizing addresses, emails, showing who or who isn't subscribed to me, or organizing and displaying the work I put on there. I've been really shocked by this experience, since lots of big names use Patreon. It's been a great way to streamline support, but it's been unhelpful in every other regard. I would like to continue using it, but I will most likely post more wips or process videos there in the future.

Which brings me to my third point, zines. I love making zines so much, it feels personal and fulfilling and fun! However the Patreon issues make it harder to keep information in order about where to send zines, or even where to message folks about them. In addition to this, the post office has been a big barrier to me, oftentimes only being open at the same time as my dayjob. Making zines can take days, then sending them out is a whole other monster.

This work is so important to me. Drawing peoples fantasies, representing body types, creating work around sexuality and the human experience feels like what I'm meant to do. I've made comics since I was a kid. This is the dream to me. The friends I've been able to make through this work are so important to me, and the conversations have been invaluable. Not to mention fun! I wanna doodle, I wanna draw hot stuff, I wanna thirst over these dudes! I want to play!

But I also just want to be transparent about the barriers I'm working around to share that experience. I'm completely self taught, both in art AND in running shops, building websites, running 8 accounts, etc. I take a lot of time to learn the logistics of these things, and try to make them make sense for my relationship with y'all (I do not want to paywall my art!! I don't want to!!!). This year my desktop broke down (the main one I use for all paintings and digital art). I've paused my Etsy shops and my Patreon to try to catch up with things. Trying to learn to paint in a completely different program. Then lost my job with no savings.

At the end of the day I don't want anything to come between me sharing my art with you. I wish I could doodle a thing, take a picture, and post it here. No third party site, no shop, no subscription. Just sharing my art with you. I promise I'm trying to figure out how to stay as close to that as possible, and I want to thank y'all for sticking with me as I untangle all of that.

So, what can you expect in the near future?

I'm working on a couple of painting commissions right now, which you should be able to see in the next couple of days! I want to catch up on kinktober and get those posted as well. There's a comic commission in progress which I'm very eager to work on, and which I think y'all will be excited for! To ease the weight of the Patreon I think I may do less zines/polls there and more wips and process videos! If possible, I want to do more full colored work too.

Thank you again for enjoying my work, and if you have any input or tips my inbox is always open 🙏🫶💕

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Art by @waldos-art (they were incredible to work with and they take commissions!)

Ch2

Batteries Not Included

There's a rustle behind them. Mike wheels around, thinking, hoping, for a split second that it's Will. But no. It's a girl about their age. Her hair is buzzed. She's wearing nothing but a hospital gown and she's covered in dirt. There's a dark mark on her wrists. Steve moves to get between them and the tiny girl. "You ok kid?" Steve asks her tentatively. She stares. "Not safe," she replies. Mike ducks under Steve's armpit. "What's not safe?" He asks. "Me," she says. She cocks two fingers to her temple and makes a firing motion, and lolls her head back in a bang-up impression of someone dying. --- Or, Nancy dumps Steve. He was going to pine about it. But there are horrors in this world that's worse than any teenage heartbreak, and Steve has to be the bro that stepped up. --- Or, what if Steve found El?

Thank you @fkinkindagauche for inspiring me with the nugget for this fic (what would need to happen for Steve to decide to date Billy after Billy nearly killed him?) then for doing an incredible job beta-ing then finally for reminding me that I really should post actually :'D

This fic is complete and will post every Thursday probably, or Friday. Maybe the weekend. I like to keep myself on my toes.

Also thank you to @waldos-art for being such a great artist to work with. I commissioned them for art of a scene in Ch 7 (I'm using a snippet as the banner) and they were so open to ideas and so communicative. I highly recommend looking them up for your own art needs.

I tragically could not fit Robin into this fic since in this AU, nothing bad ever happens to her and she meets Steve as co-workers at a shitty job way off in the future. But if you're missing some good Robin / Nancy action, I recommend checking out Gauche's Fit Right Into Me.

This fic is Mature and will be... about 16k words.

The main relationships are (in order of importance):

Steve Harrington & El

Steve Harrington / Billy Hargrove

Steve Harrington & The Party

The main tags are:

Graphic descriptions of violence

Explicit child abuse

Canon-levels of violent racist asshole Billy Hargrove

The rest of chapter 1 is below the cut

He's a piece of shit.

Steve buries his face in his hands and screams. His black eye aches and his lips split back open. Serves him right. Why did he say that? He could have stopped at calling Jonathan a fucking creep for taking pictures of him and Nancy hooking up. But no. He had to be a monster about it.

He remembers Nancy's horrified face and wants to cry. He kicks a rock instead and keeps walking. Just a few more minutes and he'll be at his secret spot, a secluded clearing hidden from the main trails. He'll sit there. Mope. Maybe smoke a little weed. Hopefully that'll clear his head enough to figure out a way to redeem himself.

But this week is just fucked. So of course little Mike Wheeler is in his spot with his face buried in his knobbly knees. Alone. He and Nancy have the same build. Fragile. Doll-like. Makes them look even smaller than they actually are. Steve remembers being that twiggy. His dad made him get up at the crack of dawn to lift weights before school and his mom made fun of him. He used to come out here to cry about it. Stupid in hindsight. But he was nine. He used to be terrified that someone would find him.

He'd also wished someone would.

Steve clears his throat. Mike jolts up, startled. Steve slowly lowers himself to the ground, sits cross-legged. Mike tracks his movement with Nancy's giant eyes. They look like one of those haunted Victorian dolls. Steve holds out a hand like he's trying to calm a scared animal (he is, he supposes). "I can leave," he offers, "or do you want to talk about it?"

Mike angrily rubs the tears away from his face, leaving dirt streaks in their wake. "Nancy said you're a bad person," he says suspiciously. "Why are you being nice to me? Didn't you break up?"

Ouch. What a way to find out he's officially dumped. He buries his own sorrow. Shrugs. "Yeah, we broke up. But you're not Nancy. And I'm not trying to be nice. I'm just intrigued. You're being all cool and mysterious like…" he remembers a bunch of weird bat-shaped boomerang posters in Mike's room. Who was the character? "Bat…" Steve struggles. It's on the tip of his tongue… "ninja," he finishes lamely.

Mike snorts. "Bat_man_," he corrects. But his shoulders drop a little farther from his ears. "I guess he was a ninja for a little bit in special issue 827, but he's still bat_man_," he explains, brightening a little. "Will has that comic—" his face crumples. Mike buries his head back between his knees.

Shit. Jonathan's brother, Will, was one of those kids that was always hanging around the Wheeler house. No wonder Nancy stormed away like that. Steve vaguely remembers the time he beat some Mario level for him. Will had watched, mouth hanging open, as Steve breezed through some underwater nonsense. He was an adorable, well-behaved, quiet kid with Jonathan's terrible bowl cut.

Then he made fun of Jonathan about the kid dying.

Fucking fuck he's a piece of shit.

Steve awkwardly pats Mike's heaving shoulder. Nine is too young. Too young for a friend to drown in the quarry. Too young to drown. Why did he say Jonathan probably killed his own brother? No wonder Nancy's leaving him. "I'm so sorry," he finally says.

"He's not dead," Mike snaps. He looks up at Steve, clutching his knees.

"Mike—"

"No! Listen! I'm not stupid," Mike insists. "How would Will have gotten to the quarry? Why would he have gotten to the quarry? It's all fake! Why was the body so pristine?!"

"They let you see the body?" Steve gasps.

"Well… no," Mike says, chewing his lips, "but I heard Mrs. Byers talking to my mom."

"Uh huh."

Mike grabs a handful of dirt and throws it at Steve. "Are you not listening to me?! It was a fake body! If it's not, why won't they let the necromancers bring him back to ask questions?!"

This sounds almost word-for-word like one of Joyce Byers' many public rants. Carol saw Jonathan shopping for child coffins. And he must have seen the body and found it convincing. Steve nods anyway. Mike huffs, as if he can tell that Steve is just appeasing him.

"Wait…" he squints. "You're tall."

Steve blinks. "I…guess?" He says cautiously.

Mike scrambles up and pulls at Steve's wrists, trying and failing to haul him up. Steve grumbles and rises to follow Mike out of the forest, along a few blocks, until they get to a fuck off huge tree. "Up there," Mike says, pointing to a thick branch. There's a bag tangled up in the branches.

"What is that?"

"Magic amplifiers," Mike says impatiently. "We have a bunch of spells to find Will, but we need to juice it up. So we got a bunch of stuff for that. Then," he huffs, "fucking Buck fucking threw my bag up that tree!"

"Language," Steve says automatically. He ignores it when Mike swears more and louder. It's a big fucking tree. The branch is a good four feet above his head. But…

"Yeah, I can't reach that by myself," Steve muses. Mike deflates. "Dude. Let me finish. I'm going to get some tools and swing that up to reach the branch."

---

Steve isn't surprised when Mike lets himself into Steve's car without asking. He is a little surprised when he insists on going out of their way to pick up Lucas Sinclair. Then Lucas insists on picking up some girl Steve's never seen before. He listens to them yell at each other (apparently schools don't teach indoor voices anymore) all the way back to his place. He grabs a bat and drives them back to the tree. The kids look at him holding his bat, unimpressed.

"That's not long enough," Mike observes.

"Dude give me a second," Steve snaps. He grips the bat and focuses. He's kind of shit at magic, especially the complicated ones that require fitting all these runes and ingredients and verbal components and moon cycles and all the other junk he can't hold in his hands. But he's great at focusing on just one thing, on getting whatever it is to do just one job.

Like now.

He makes his bat grow a little longer, to curve, then spin, faster and faster until it's just a blur. He hurls it towards the stuck bag. The kids squeal when it cuts through the big branch and makes the whole thing come crashing down, bag and all. Max stares, wide-eyed. Lucas whoops. Mike grins and complains about how Steve probably broke something.

---

Cold. Hungry. Cold and hungry. Cold and hungry cold and hungry. Hungry. Cold.

It reaches out. Nothing. It totters forward and reaches out and out and out into the cruel void. It was always here. Alone. Bereft. Severed. It reaches out since there is nothing else to do.

Something.

A tall thing with many textures. Warm, coarse outer layer. Softer, threaded middle layer. An inner layer all satin smooth and soft and warm and the only thing it has ever tasted. Delectable. The thing exhales huffs of oxygen and ozone and chemicals. The thing flails, pelting it with warm, bruising thuds. It hugs the thing deeper into itself. Inhales the warmth. The movement. Little zings of electric signals that creates an interesting clutch in the pit of its stomach. It shudders with pleasure and hugs the thing tighter.

The thing fades away.

It whines and grasps and claws as the thing disappears.

Alone again.

But now it knows hope.

---

Steve feels like he's in one of those shitty movies with a record scratch moment. Like he should turn to the camera and ask "you might be wondering how I got into this situation."

He's hanging up the third amplifier according to Mike and Lucas's painstaking description, and it looks like he has a good five or six more to go. This is insanity. He's never seen this many amplifiers, and never in this configuration (though there is a good chance he slept through a class covering exactly this setup).

Max works right next to him, covering the lower spots so Steve doesn't have to hunch over. He blinks. He was so distracted by the weirdness of this whole thing that he didn't catch this huge problem until now, about twenty minutes in.

"Hey assholes!" Steve calls out. "How come the only one helping me is Max?"

"We're supervising," Mike says snottily. "Hey!" He yells out in protest when Lucas sheepishly heads over to help.

"He's right," Lucas says with a shrug. "Besides, it's faster if we all do it."

Some spots are too high even for Steve, so he draws a simple bounce rune on his beemer so the kids can jump up from it to reach. Even Mike joins in at this point, now that there's a trampoline involved (sorry beemer).

Once they're done, Mike and Lucas draw up the search runes and throw Will's old sketch book into the middle to give the spell something to work off of. They chant in practiced unison. Max goes over to one of the amplifiers and channels her mana into it, sweating with the effort. Mike glows a bright, lava red. Lucas shimmers like diamonds. Max's aura is much more subtle, a barely visible copper glow around her eyes.

Steve realizes belatedly that he really should have considered the actual implications of all the amplifying these kids are doing.

A strong gust of wind starts around them. "Guys?" Steve stutters out. The runes in the ground glow an ominous, sickly green. The wind picks up and turns into a screaming whirlwind. Mike and Lucas stop chanting. Max stops channeling. The three children scramble to get behind Steve, terrified. He can see the headlines now—"Village idiot helps a bunch of toddlers bring about the end times. May they rest in shame."

Steve grips his bat and gets in front of the kids the best he can, but the wind is surrounding them in a vicious circle.

"What the f—did you do?!" Steve sputters.

"It's just a tracking spell!" Mike screeches. "It should be safe!"

"Yeah, we tried it before and it worked fine!" Lucas babbles.

"Did you try… with the amplifiers?" Steve asks through clenched teeth.

"Not…really," Mike admits.

"Alright. Just…" Steve squares himself, squints against the wind. At least they're in the eye of this storm, but the kids are already stumbling. He can't let them get sucked in. He twirls his bat for moral support then focuses on it. Channels all the mana he's got and probably more (he can already feel the beginning of an intense hangover). He wills his bat to grow longer and spin, faster and faster, until it counters the raging winds.

Then he throws it and hopes for the best.

The kids watch, fascinated, as Steve's bat whirls around them, creating a small bubble of clear space.

Suddenly, there's a screech so loud it almost breaks Steve's concentration on his bat. The kids scream in surprise and pain, adding to the wall of noise. Then just as suddenly, the storm wooshes outwards and disappears. Steve realizes he was clutching the kids tightly into himself. He shoots up and clears his throat. It doesn't look like they did too much damage. Some branches got knocked over, but the clearing mostly looks the same.

"See? I told you it'd be fine," Mike insists, the little shit.

"If that went for a minute longer, you would have pissed yourself," Max points out, rolling her eyes. "Did that even work?"

"Guys… it did," Lucas says, awed. He points. "Look!"

Steve gasps, impressed in spite of himself. In front of them is the tracking spell's signature red tail. It shimmers, leading through the forest to gods know where.

"How long is this going to stay up?" Steve asks. Tracking spells don't last very long and take up an insane amount of mana. There's a reason people prefer dogs.

Mike takes out a notebook and flips through it. "Err… anywhere between five minutes and seven days," he says.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He's tapped out from preventing himself and the kids from getting blown away. Mike and Lucas look dead on their feet. If anything happens, he won't have the juice to protect them. He sighs heavily. "Alright. Get in the car and stay there, ok? I'll go take a look."

"No. We go together," Mike says resolutely. He stumbles forward.

"You're just going to slow me down," Steve says, frustrated.

"Not with me," Max says. She seems remarkably fine considering the spell she just helped cast. She pulls out a skateboard from her pack, and her eyes glow copper as she enlarges the board into a much longer thing big enough for all four of them. "Hop on," she says. The corners of her mouth twitch as she tries to suppress a proud grin.

Steve looks at the board dubiously. But he doesn't exactly have better options. He motions for the boys to get in the middle so he can supervise from the rear. Their parents better be grateful. Or maybe they'd be rightfully pissed. Maybe a sensible teen would have stopped this madness in the first place.

Then Max kicks off and it blows all thoughts out of his head. She's good. The board moves smoothly through the various terrains of the forest then down a road. There's a heart-stopping moment when they nearly crash into a car, but Max does something last minute to make the board fly over it.

The trail stays strong and leads…

To an utterly unremarkable maple tree only a few yards away from Will's house.

---

This can't be right.

Mike and Lucas scramble around the tree, examining every inch of its trunk. The search spell should have worked. It should have pointed to Will. But it's stabbing through the stupid tree instead. There's not even pieces of Will's things or clothes here, not that it would have mattered. Search spells point to the… core of the being. Nothing Mike read properly explained what 'core of the being' meant in any kind of satisfactory, understandable way. But he knows that this stupid tree isn't the core of Will under any definition.

He failed.

Maybe the amplifiers messed it up. Maybe Will's sketchbook was tainted with something from this tree. Maybe he was supposed to cast the spell at a specific time of day, under a certain moon cycle. Sure, the normal version casts at any time, but magic can be finicky.

Or…

Maybe Will did drown in the quarry.

Mike kicks the tree and screams. Steve stops Lucas from digging into the bark, right where the search trail digs into the trunk, with his bare hands. Max hovers her hand uncertainly over Mike's shoulder. She's never met Will. They told her so much about him. She said he sounded like a dork. She smiled when she said that.

There's a rustle behind them.

Mike wheels around, thinking, hoping, for a split second that it's Will. But no.

It's a girl about their age. Her hair is buzzed. She's wearing nothing but a hospital gown and she's covered in dirt. There's a dark mark on her wrists. Steve moves to get between them and the tiny girl.

"You ok kid?" Steve asks her tentatively. She stares.

"Not safe," she replies.

Mike ducks under Steve's armpit. "What's not safe?" He asks.

"Me," she says. She cocks two fingers to her temple and makes a firing motion, and lolls her head back in a bang-up impression of someone dying.

---

The evening of Will Byer's Disappearance:

The house is empty when Will gets home. That's been happening a lot. Jonathan's been picking up more shifts at Melvald's. At first, it was exciting, a secret between the two of them (Mom hates when Jonathan works). Now it's just…

Will swallows down this ball of… ugly things trying to climb up his throat. He's not a baby. Lonnie said Jonathan was home alone all the time when he was even younger. He can handle himself. Even though Jonathan was supposed to be home to make Will dinner, help him with his homework, and send him to bed. He shoves his half-finished homework into his book bag. Mrs. Reynolds is going to yell at him. But Jonathan isn't home so…

Mike's Mom is home all the time. Lucas's parents always make it to dinner. Will stomps to the fridge. He's not that hungry, and he doesn't want to eat alone. But Jonathan gets upset when Will skips meals. He might refuse to let him check out the new photos. He'd say something stupid about how Will isn't strong enough to handle that much art because he didn't eat.

Something moves behind him.

Will swallows. He must be imagining things because he's a stupid baby and not strong like Jonathan was at his age. He takes a deep breath and takes out the leftover casserole. His heart beats in his ears. He can feel the hairs on his leg shift as he moves. He wishes Mom would let them get a dog.

There's a chill at his side. Will whips around, holding the food out in front of him like a shield. Nothing.

Will slams his dinner down on the table, a little harder than necessary. It's fine. Probably the wind. Jonathan will come home soon.

The lights flicker. A cold wisp brushes against his forehead.

Will screams and backs away. The cold brushes his cheek. Jonathan showed him how to punch. Showed him where the solar plexus is. Mom told him to give intruders whatever they wanted, that there's nothing in the house more important than him.

But there's nothing to punch. Nothing to bribe. Just cold.

The cold touches him again, this time his whole chest. Will feels something get pulled out of him. There's a sharp, freezing sensation on his calves. He scrambles backwards, away. Then he turns to run, out of the house, into the woods. Mom and Jonathan told him to never, under any circumstances, go into the woods at night. But the cold is right behind him, driving him deeper and deeper into the darkness.

---

The kids decide that Steve will put up the little girl for the foreseeable future. His parents aren't due back for a few more weeks or maybe months, so it's no skin off his back. Still, it would have been nice to have been consulted. Whatever.

The girl is squished in the middle seat, murmuring one-word answers to the kids' increasingly weird and elaborate questions. It's like they think that a correctly worded phrase will get her to spit out something that makes sense, like a fucking mystery slot machine. She's sagging, clearly exhausted, by the time Mike, the final kid, hops out of the beemer.

"You'll pick us up tomorrow right?" Mike checks again for the dozenth time, keeping the door open so Steve can't drive off.

"Yes, Wheeler, I'll pick you up after my school. It's just going to end later than yours so—"

"I can bike over," Mike says.

"Dude! Just wait a little bit!"

"But she'll be at your house all alone," Mike says, chewing his lips. "I can sleep over."

The little girl flinches at that, probably worried that Mike would spend all night shooting questions at her. "Wheeler," Steve says with a deep sigh, "I'll make sure she has stuff to do. Your parents are going to worry. Get inside."

Mike just frowns and makes to get back in the beemer. Steve sits up a little taller and frowns at the kid. Miraculously, the posturing works. Little Wheeler slams the door shut and stalks off. Steve waits until he sees Mike get pulled inside before driving back to Loch Nora.

The little girl falls asleep on the way. She doesn't wake up when Steve pulls into his driveway, so he goes around the back. He touches her gently on the shoulder.

She screams. Something pushes him hard to the ground. He goes down with a grunt. She scrambles back, horrified. A trickle of blood runs down her nose.

Weird… this type of minor manipulation is easy, basically baby's first magic. It shouldn't have caused any physical strain. She didn't even push that hard. He wonders if he should take her to a pediatrician. Honestly, he really should. She probably came out of a pediatrics ward, judging by how she's dressed. But it's late. He's had a day. She looks like she's had a year (at least). She looks at him with huge, terrified eyes. The last thing he wants to do is to give her a reason to trust him even less.

"Hey, it's alright. Sorry I startled you," Steve says gently. He angles his body away and holds out a hand. After a few heartbeats, a small, cold hand lands onto his. There's a slight pressure as she leans on him to jump out of the car. She lets him lead her into his lonely, empty house.

It's jarring how quiet she is, especially after all the noise and bustle of the other kids. She silently follows him around the house as Steve searches for something that she might be able to wear. It's still fall, but it's definitely too cold for just her hospital gown. Steve isn't sure why she's not shivering.

He finally settles on gym shorts with drawstrings and a hideous Christmas sweater from Aunt Nellie he shrank in the wash on purpose. He hands them to the kid. She doesn't move when he points her to the bathroom, so he guides her there himself. He has to point out how to turn on warm water, and how to use the shampoo and conditioner. He steps out to give her some privacy, ignoring the sinking feeling that this might be her first warm shower with actual hair products. At least she recognized soap.

He helps her tighten the gym shorts when she waddles out of the bathroom. The sweater hangs too loosely on her, emphasizing all the bones. And he thought Mike was bad. Her stomach growls.

"Do you… want something to eat?" Steve asks. She nods.

"Ok? What do you like?"

"Like?" she asks back with a frown, head cocked in confusion.

"Yeah, what do you like to eat?" Steve checks again. She squints at him, as if she's never been asked what she wants. Something in his chest shatters.

He eventually gives up after a long, uncomfortable silence and leads her to the kitchen. He stands at the door a beat too long like an idiot. He has stuff, but none of it is healthy. He's mostly lived off of school lunches. Maybe pizza? Everyone likes pizza right? He moves to the phone so he can call Antonio's.

There's a shudder.

The ornate phone runes rip themselves out of the marble kitchen counter and crash onto the floor. Steve watches in horror as the marble grinds itself into dust against the kitchen floor, creating a small crater. He looks back and sees the little girl with her hands outstretched. Blood gushes from her nose. There's not a fleck of magical aura in sight. Whatever she's doing is not magic. At least nothing Steve's ever seen. A child this age shouldn't have enough mana to break rocks.

"Hey, hey!" Steve yells. She stops and steps back, panting heavily. Steve pinches himself. The kitchen floor is still caved in. The part of the counter where the phone runes had been carved (at great, extra expense) is still ripped out.

He's seen some sorcerers, like Billy fucking Hargrove, do flashy shit with the terrain around them. But that was always in specially constructed arenas with movable blocks of dirt or water.

He looks back at the little girl, who looks way too scared for someone who could easily cave his head in with a flick of her wrists.

"Ok, so… no phone?" Steve confirms.

"Sorry," she stammers. She sinks to the floor and starts to sob with her whole body. "Sorry."

Steve goes to her, carefully telegraphing all of his movements.

"Dead. Nice man. Dead. Used that. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead," she makes that shooting movement again.

"Did… a nice man use the phone? Then someone killed him?" Steve checks.

She nods vigorously. "My fault," she whispers.

"Ok." Steve swallows. His parents are going to be pissed. Mom spent ages agonizing over the kitchen colors. But for the first time in his life, his parents being pissed seems like the least of his problems. "Ok, no phone," he promises.

She nods tearfully.

He searches his kitchen in a daze after that, carefully stepping around the broken counter top pieces, and the little girl who's still curled in on herself on the floor. There's some freezer-burned Eggos he'd been ignoring. Fortunately, she's not the picky sort.

He watches her gobble down the waffles like it's the best thing she's ever eaten and tries not to think about how it might be the best thing she's ever had. He makes her brush her teeth and tucks her into a guest room. He stands guard outside her door for a while after until he can hear her breathing even out. What he's protecting, whether he's guarding her or guarding from her, he couldn't answer.

---

It runs slowly.

Masil feels the thuds of the little ape's feet. Feels the vibration of every stumble and yelp. It runs slowly and loudly.

A better tree would stop paying attention at this point. Apes may fancy themselves as something apart. But at the end of the day, everything gets devoured.

But…

Masil likes this little ape. It lays against Masil's trunk and makes pleasant scritching vibrations with little sticks. It picks pesky beetles off of their branches. It sneaks them fertilizer, the good stuff, the type that usually goes to big, important trees.

And this particular predator would devour the little ape whole, every piece of its body and soul, leaving nothing to the forest. Masil wouldn't even have the bones to remember it by. It's a nice ape. That would be a waste.

So Masil focuses. Lets some leaves and branches shrivel as they focus all their strength into the roots closest to the little ape. They trip it. The ape goes down, into Masil's trunk. The ape thrashes and cries, attracting the predator. It needs to stay quiet. The apes talk with vibrations. Inefficient. But there's no other option. Masil lets more branches wither away.

"Hold your breath," Masil begs in ape-speech. The ape gasps. It holds its breath.

The predator stiffens, looks around, confused, as its target's signature disappears. But Masil knows apes can't hold their breath for very long. They emit a scent of apology that the ape probably won't understand. Then they plunge a branch through its small palm and siphon out as much of its soul as Masil can muster. They'll keep it safe until other apes come looking for the child. The little ape screams and screams. The predator perks up. Comes running. It pounces with glee.

[justaboymadeofhoneyandglass]

All too well 10 Minute Version but it's Eli x Evan

I have this pinned rn, here is my actual intro post

*clears throat* Your honour, in this essay I will discuss the fact that they're literally this song.

((I walked through the door with you, the air was cold / But something 'bout it felt like home somehow))

Evan visiting Eli for the first time, Evan being 5 and Eli barely 9, so excited to show him everything, Eli knew his home wasn’t the best but Evan loved it, it was home to him, because Eli was there, he was always there.

((And I left my scarf there at your sister's house / And you’ve still got it in your drawer even now))

Evan leaves a scarf, at Eli‘s sisters place, she’s closer in age with him than Eli is. Eli keeps that scarf, in case he’ll ever want it back.

((Oh, your sweet disposition And my wide-eyed gaze))

Eli being so so goddamn kind to Evan, always kind, always patient and good to him, he could never be anything else to, for or with him. Evan admiring him so much, being a naive kid, always trying to either keep up with or impress him.

((We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place And I can picture it after all these days))

Them, spending their summers in a holiday house from Evan’s family, a few hours from where they grew up, coming back when autumn starts, knowing exactly what this is, how their part of the world works, cus it’s theirs. Evan going back to the holiday house years later, remembering every summer he spent there, loving someone who couldn’t be allowed to love him.

((And I know it's long gone, and that magic′s not here no more And I might be okay, but I′m not fine at all))

All that was a long time ago, the moments all passed, the magic all faded and yet Evan‘s still not okay, he doesn’t have closure, or peace, or anything that you could call fine, and yet he seems okay to everybody, always okay, never a burden.

(('Cause there we are again on that little town street You almost ran the red cause you were looking over at me))

Eli getting his car when he’s older, and taking Evan for a drive, they drove to school together, Eli stares at him constantly, so much that Evan softly reminds him to look at the road, please. Eli shakes himself off every single time, at that point just ignorant of that one night they both pretend didn’t happen.

((Wind in my hair, I was there I remember it all too well))

Evan knowing it all, even then, he remembers everything after all those years. Even then, he knew everything about them.

((Photo album on the counter Your cheeks were turning red You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed))

Eli’s mother insists on showing Evan old photo albums of Eli, Evan loves it so much but Eli is just sitting there being embarrassed, but it’s okay cus Evan thinks it’s cute, he’s cute like that. Evan can see the innocence in younger Eli‘s eyes, he wonders if Eli was ever like him, weak, naive, in need of protection or if he was just born like this, born to protect him, never needing to be protected himself.

((And your mother's telling stories ′bout you on the tee-ball team You told me 'bout your past thinkin′ your future was me))

Eli‘s mother, of course, tells stories, the funny ones, the bad ones and the embarrassing ones. And Evan thinks, maybe Eli was just like me one day, maybe that’s why he’s so desperate to help me, maybe that’s all he’s doing, all he wants to do. They stay up late that night, Eli tells him about his primary school time, how he hid the emotional abuse he endured from his father from Evan because Evan needed protection more than Eli needed someone to confide in.

((And you were tossing me the car keys "Fuck the Patriarchy" keychain on the ground))

Evan gets older, and Eli teaches him to drive, in the same car he got when he started driving. They’re both politically active, now that Evan has seen that there’s so much more evil in the world than just his own bullying, they both stand up for each other and for the people around them, to fight. It makes them love each other more, knowing that they don’t just share love, they share a fight.

((We were always skipping town And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now He's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was))

When they’re older, most of their free time that they spend together, they spend in private, or go somewhere else entirely, hide out from other people, fearing questions and being judged. (Atp Eli is 21 and Evan is 17). They drive down to Evan’s family’s holiday house once again, Evan wonders if Eli is ever gonna tell him he loves him. He never called it what it was, neither of them did. They see it differently thought, what their relationship was. They both agree that it was everything to them, but Evan thinks its love, while Eli fears that it’s abuse.

((′Til we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back swearing it′s the same After three months in the grave))

Evan moves to Germany, they split up, and at his graduation, Eli is there. Not for him, but still it all feels the same, it’s still both of their hearts beating in sync when everything in the world seems off beat.

((And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you But all I felt was shame, and you held my lifeless frame))

This could be both of their sides tbh, Eli‘s shame because he sees what he did from a moral-legal perspective, Evan‘s shame because he needed him, so bad, for so long, and he still does and the emotional part of their relationship was the most important thing he’s had in his life and he’s ashamed of how badly he’s missed him. Eli‘s ashamed because he knew what his father‘s abuse did to his mother, and because he’s always been scared of becoming like him. He’s ashamed because he’s convinced that Evan needing him is somehow his fault, as if people don’t just need each other, as if that’s something bad on Eli‘s part.

((And I know it's long gone, and there was nothing else I could do And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to))

Evan forgot the struggles of their relationship for long enough to forget why he had to leave in the first place, why Eli left and why Evan moved on and didn’t seek him out again.

((′Cause there we are again in the middle of the night We're dancin′ 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light Down the stairs, I was there I remember it all too well))

There’s sleepovers at Evan's place, sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack, his parents always noticed and never said anything. Evan goes back to his childhood home and all he can see is the places him and Eli were, where he felt loved, where he felt lost and was picked up and shown a way, so many many times. That's all he can see, the love he had with him.

((And there we are again when nobody had to know))

And suddenly he's 13, or 15, or 17, and nobody needs to know about them, nobody has to know why they're so close, nobody has to know anything. And he's back there again, when Eli was the only thing he had, because anybody he tried to connect with just had to know what was going on with them, because he couldn't trust anybody and nobody could trust him, as long as he still had to keep that secret form everybody.

((You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath))

Eli kept Evan like a secret because he had to, because he would've gotten in trouble if he didn't, because it was dangerous not to, Evan kept Eli like an oath because he wanted to, because he swore himself to him, because he promised to love him.

((Sacred prayer, and we′d swear To remember it all too well, yeah))

They swore to each other to never forget the other, that no matter how their life's went, they'd know that the other was always there.

((Well, maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up Running scared, I was there I remember it all too well))

They were perfect. They were good to each other, until Eli's guilt started outweighing his love for Evan, and he had to consider what was better for Evan, if he left now, tearing him to pieces in the process or if he stayed for any longer, until they would have to be a secret anymore, until he would have to find some other reason why he couldn't love himself if he knew that he'd manipulated him into this. (Eli thinks that he groomed Evan, that was not the case but because Eli thinks that, he leaves him because he thinks it's better for him)

((And you call me up again just to break me like a promise))

When Eli meets Evan again, at his graduation, it's easy for both of them to fall back into their coexistence, where nothing but the other really matters. But this time, they have to face the ugly reality of what happened back then, and why it happened.

((So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here ′Cause I remember it all, all, all))

Eli tries to explain it in a way that makes sense, he tells Evan about his dad and his abuse, and about how he was always scared that he'd turn out like him. Evan just tells him that's not what it was, that's not how it was to him, he never felt the way with Eli that Eli felt with his dad.

((They say, "All′s well that ends well" but I'm in a new hell every time You double-cross my mind))

They didn't end badly, their breakup wasn't good but they lived on, and yet Evan, in the time that they're apart, pushed away every thought of him, because to him, he just left, he doesn't understand, and once again he's a little kjd wondering why no one likes him.

((You said if we had been closer in age, maybe it would have been fine And that made me want to die))

Eli tells him if they'd been closer in age they would've been legal, or at least less illegal, and tells him that that was part of his guilt, that because they weren't legal he couldn't possibly actually have loved him, right? He had to have manipulated him, that's what he thought. Evan hates that he even said that, he gets why Eli thinks that but to him, he couldn't have lived and become the person he is without Eli, and to him it doesn't matter, because he felt loved with him, more loved than with anyone else before or since.

((The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy ever, lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you))

Evan grew up, he stopped being the naive and weak kid he was when Eli first saved him. But he never stopped being soft for him, gentle for him, in need of his protection, just like he was as a kid. Evan grows up and he starts understanding why Eli never told him he loved him, why he was so scared of admitting that that was what they were - lovers. He understands it, and he realises that Eli had to have loved him, or else he wouldn’t have saved him.

((Not weeping in a party bathroom Some actress asking me what happened You, that′s what happened, you))

(in the band au) Evan becomes famous, and he’s on tv at one or the other awards show but all he can think of is Eli seeing him on tv, being caught off guard by that sting in his heart, by the realisation that he misses him just as much as Evan misses Eli. Evan becomes famous, and loved, and yet all he can think of wanting is Eli next to him, wherever he is.

((You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sipping coffee like you're on a late night show))

Eli starts drinking coffee when he’s 15, it’s just another thing to make him feel more grownup, another thing that makes Evan‘s eyes sparkle and darken just a bit, knowing that it impresses his dad when he meets Eli, Evan knows that that his dad thinks Eli is good for him, approved of him even, knowing that he doesn’t know what happens when he’s gone to bed, that Evan gets used to the taste of coffee eventually, not from drinking it but from tasting it on the lips of his lover. Evan doesn’t drink coffee after Eli leaves, avoids it in all forms and ways, and he gets used to it again when Eli returns to him, when they’re older.

((But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come And he said, "It′s supposed to be fun turning 21"))

Evan’s dad is there when Eli leaves and he doesn’t understand, why he left or why Evan is paralysed by it, why it destroy him right down to the bone, but he’s there nonetheless.

((Time won't fly, it′s like I'm paralyzed by it))

what I said in the last part. Time passes, technically, after Eli leaves, but for Evan it doesn’t, it shouldn’t, he avoids every indication of change, of any proof that time has passed since that chilly afternoon, he doesn’t look at the mirrors he passes, ignores the stubble now growing on his face because it wasn’t there before, it wasn’t there when he was loved, so he hates it.

((I'd like to be my old self again But I′m still trying to find it))

Evan loses himself when Eli leaves, he’s convinced that without him he doesn’t know who he is anymore. Then again, he hasn’t exactly had that much time to even figure out who he is at all, being only 13 at the time, but that’s how he feels. Later, looking back, he wishes he could go back and he that kid again because he knows that whatever he was, he was it more and better and clearer with Eli than without him.

((After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own Now you mail back my things, and I walk home alone))

Eli lends Evan his plaid shirts, his t-shirts, his hoodies, because he just looks so cute in them. Evan mails back most of the clothes he had kept to him over a few weeks, he only keeps one shirt, a red worn out plaid shirts that he remembers being wrapped in so many times, when Eli found him alone in break, or being picked on my other kids, or with a bloody nose because one of the kids picked a fight with him. That one he keeps.

((But you keep my old scarf from that very first week ′Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it ′Cause you remember it all too well))

Eli keeps his scarf, though. The scarf that Evan had when he really was a kid, not just a kid in comparison to Eli. It’s a representation of his innocence to Eli, if he ever lost it it would mean he lost Evan, lost his innocence, broken his promise to him.

((Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you′ve ever known))

When Evan grows up, he starts to understand that what he and Eli had was everything to Eli, too. That everything remind him of him too, that what they had was the best they both were destined to have.

((And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punchline goes "I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age"))

Evan finds out later that Eli hasn’t had any significant relationship after him, but that he had one night stands here and there. He finds out, through a side remark from Eli‘s sister, that those one night stands tend to be younger than him, and pieces things together from that. He’s okay with it, Eli isn’t, he thinks Evan is gonna hate him, or be weirded out, but instead he’s understanding. (That takes a whole turn later anyways,,,,)

((And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did the love affair maim you too? 'Cause in this city′s barren cold, I still remember the first fall of snow And how it glistened as it fell I remember it all too well))

When Evan goes back to their childhood city, snow falls, and he remembers the snow fights with Eli, the hot chocolate for him and coffee for Eli as they sat inside watching the snow storms cover their city, the movie nights and the falling asleep in front of the tv, being carried to bed by Eli when he falls asleep because Evan looks so adorable sleeping and Eli couldn’t bear to wake him. He remembers all of the nights, and the days, and everything in between.

((Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there Down the stairs, I was there, I was there Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there It was rare, you remember it all too well))

Evan remembers it all, everything that happened to him, and he hopes Eli does too. He hopes he never forgets, because it means he’ll never forget him.

Okay. That’s a lot. Finishing notes:

There’s different versions of their story, that’s why some parts of this say Eli left when Evan was 13 and some say he left when he was older

thats cus Evan loses his virginity to Eli when he’s 13, and in some versions Eli leaves after and because of that

in some, he ignores that it happens, he makes clear to Evan that it’s okay between them but that it shouldn’t have happened

in some versions it’s even more different and more complicated than that, but idk if I can put that into words

you‘ll notice that one of two lines or lyric parts are missing, that’s cus I didn’t copy out the repeating ones and the ones that I didn’t understand lol

pls ask any questions you may have!

btw, little thing… this is 3000 words…. Yk, I’m normal about them, totally!

[harryleatherfit]

for so long ༻꧂

part 1 >< moving

4.6K x dbf!neighbor!joel x f!reader

𓆉 main master list 𓆉 series master list 𓆉

𓆉 series playlist

warnings: [NO OUTBREAK] divorce, parents fighting, death, grief, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader 24 joel 47), dbf!joel, soft!joel

authors notes: i have been wanting to write dbf!joel for so damn long it’s not even funny. this will probably be a shorter fic with longer chapters, but we will see 🤫🤫

word count: 4.6 k

Cerulean blue and baby orange.

The only colors that made sense since birth. The sky and the water mix together to make a picture, one will never escape the world. The beach, as that would be simplified down to, is simply a get away, a lifestyle.

Your dads boat, the only thing that mattered. The time you spent with your dad out on the water was the only thing that meant the whole world to you. You didn’t care about going to the movies or boys… you cared about spending time with your dad and learning. Knowledge made you feel good, you felt good being about to repeat what was put through your brain. You were in due time to go back to school again.

You were starting 7th grade this year and it was exciting, the middle of Junior High. It was time to start thinking about what you wanted for your future. Your parents didn’t push you too much, but they always put it in your head to start thinking about college. College.

That was years down the road, only the beach mattered. You would only be here for a couple more summers with your parents and then you would have to move away. Leave your baby brother James, leave and become a part of society.

You were fearful, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. You were precautious with what you wanted to do, but you were just a kid and that’s the only thing that mattered.

“Hey, bear. Can you hand your mom and I some more Dr Pepper, and pass me some more bait while you’re at it.” Your dad asks.

You fiddle around in your dads cooler, looking for his bait and getting your parents more soda. You had your journal open and you were studying little film of algae.

“What are you writing about bear cub?” Your mom asks. You hand your dad the soda’s and his bait, hugging him as you rub your little brother's cheek. Your mom was holding him, James was just a couple years old and he was recovering from a temper tantrum. You were always calm with him and tried to help him figure through his emotions.

Being a toddler was tough work, and you always helped your parents with James. Your little brother needed you.

He crawled out of your moms arms, “Sissy,” He tugs at your shirt,” Can I come look at the wawter wif you?”

You tickle his neck and he laughs, “Of course you can James .” You pick him up and set him into your lap, letting him pick up your pen and pencil. You tear out a piece of paper for him, balling it up and letting him throw. He chucks it into the body of water, breaking the algae.

“See James, look at the green and the world beneath you opened. More sunlight, all it took was for you to break it.”

“Wook at the pweety green sissy.” He repeats.

“I know it's so pretty, but you see the fishy? All the little rocks under?” He crawls and you hold him in place at the edge of the boat. He oggles beneath him and you remember how this was his first time getting to see aquatic life. You studied how he watched the earth below him, fastened how he worked.

On the other end of the boat, you could hear your mom and dad start to argue. This had been going on for a while, you didn’t think anything of it and we’re trying to show that you didn’t care. You had to be strong for James, you had to be strong for your parents.

“Jason, that restaurant is gonna kill us, you know that. We have to move from the beach.” Your mom tried to keep down.

“Bryn, no it’s not. We can make it this summer. I don’t know why you always keep this up, I told you I have it all figured out.”

“Jason, stop lying to me. I saw the reports, I saw it all and you’re lying straight to my face.”

“Stop, just stop-”

“Daddy, wook at the fish over here!” James tuts. Your parents flip turn to you, catching that you caught their whole conversation. You give a meek smile, and they try to lighten the mood but you knew this was more than that.

“Bryn, let's just have a good day with the kids, a good summer day.”

“Hello, earth to Bear.” Your dad waves his hand in front of your face. You saw an entrance sign to that lake you were on with your family so many years ago, taking you back to a time you never thought you’d relive again. “I’ve been trying to get your attention.” Your dad says.

“Sorry, just spaced out for a second, what were you trying to say?” You blink, the whole drive you were listening to your dad’s music, trying to fall asleep but you couldn’t.

“James is excited to see you, he misses you a lot.” You hadn’t gotten to see him since last summer, you were kept at college working on your Masters paper. Your last year of school had caught you whole, no time for anything.

James was so much older now, “I feel bad for missing last year, he still plays baseball right?”

“Yeah he’s so excited for you to come to summer games, and he wanted you to come to a team campfire on the beach.”

“I would love to.” You stare out on the road. You missed the beach, you missed the old town.

You had visited for a couple weeks each year during high school, but that was so long ago. Your parents had divorced when you were in middle school, and you were right when you were younger- things weren’t going well.

But the divorce was smooth, your parents remained friends, and you moved in with your mom, and your brother stayed with your dad. That part wasn’t ideal, but each parent was happy. You would always miss the other half of your family but that’s how things worked out in the split. During the last of high school you spent the holidays at the beach with your dad. Your mom came along and you were a family again. They did this for you, a special rarity you would remember for the rest of your life.

But then the start of University, and you never had time to leave so your family had to see you. Your dad and James would hole up near your college to celebrate the end of the year, and after that you’d have visit your mom, she was busy herself, but in a heartbeat you would go see her, even if you had to make the time.

You loved your mom, living with her. Her smile. Your mom was the reason why you were so prosperous in your youth, she pushed you enough, but she always showed you her love.

And on a quiet morning while you were studying, during this past year and your final months of college, you were in your shared apartment with your childhood best friend Lexie and you got the call that your mom died.

She died in the hospital due to a car crash. It was all so sudden, and you really didn’t believe the surgeon over the phone, but finally as you walked into the room, you saw your dead mother clothed and washed. Ready to be buried. James didn’t take it well, but you still had to be strong for him. The funeral was beautiful, with flowers and so many people from your childhood. It was a reunion and you realized how many people cared. A precious life celebrated with love and happiness.

The following days you stayed with your dad and James, not knowing where you belong, what to think, what to believe. All you had to do with them was be yourself, some version of normal.

During that time, that was when your dad asked you if you wanted to move to the beach after you graduated.

“It might be nice bear, you’d get to be with James more, and you wouldn’t have to worry about groceries or rent. You could stay with us as long as you’d like, that Lexie friend could come visit if she’d like. You could work with me, or not. I don’t mind.”

You thought about it, family. Some time to heal.

“I’d like that dad.” You hug.

You still weren’t sure if you had mourned enough, or had taken care of yourself enough but you had to finish college. You had to finish your degree, you had to push yourself. Your mom would have been proud.

Time and time again, Lexie tried to comfort you, and you appreciated it, but you had to be on your own for a while. You told her you were moving in with your dad, told her that she could come visit, and as Lexie would be, she was proud of you.

It was time to move on, it was time to forgive yourself.

And today was the day, leaving with your dad for the summer, or however long you needed to get back on your feet. Passing roads, old farms, signs associated with this beach drive. Finally reaching the little coastal town. The sun was setting, beautiful as could be.

“I don’t know if you remember but the town still does baby turtle ocean thing, it’s going on all summer and people can volunteer to help, if you’d like.”

“Could we- I’d like to go this weekend?”

“I wouldn’t mind that sweet pie, I’ll get James to come this weekend, I remember you both used to watch the turtles so long ago.”

You thought of James' little laugh, his baby toddler giggle looking at the turtles swimming into the water. His youth was so again, so precious to you.

“Over there they’re building a whole new shopping center. I talked to the mayor and he thought it would bring in more people.”

You chuckle, “I guess you beach hoodlums need more retail therapy I suppose.”

“I suppose.” He mumbles, “I miss you kiddo, so much has changed but I’m excited for you to see.”

“I am too, it’ll be a good summer.” That's all you wanted.

Your dad turns into the neighborhood, so many new houses, new cars that you’ve never seen.

“Do the smiths still live here? I remember James played with Isaac all the time.”

“Ah, they moved away a few years ago, the mom got a job more inland but I take James to go visit Isaac sometimes.”

You nod your head, “Anyone new in the neighborhood? Any women maybe?”

“Bear,” He eyes you. You had never seen your dad with another woman, or he had never even mentioned a woman, you weren’t worried but it was time.

“What? I mean there hasn’t been anyone since mom, you can’t rot away for years and not date, you’ll waste your old man potential.” You comment.

“Old man potential.” He repeats. “Nobody wants a crusty man that all he does is fish and run a beach restaurant.”

“Hey… I mean some women may dig that. Who knows.” You smirk, your dad was an acquired taste, your mom did divorce him.

“Yeah, but uh a few families moved in here and there,” He explains, “I don’t know if you remember, but some years ago my buddy from high school, Joel and his younger daughter Sarah moved in next to us. Sometimes his brother Tommy will come around, they’re nice.”

You remember that name.

“The millers?” Of course you remembered them. You babysat Sarah Miller, but you could have never forgotten her father.

“Yeah maybe, you might’ve met them when you were in undergrad.”

“I did, I babysat for Sarah and she helped me with my flash cards, she’s a good kid.” That must’ve been 5 years ago now, you spent so much time focusing on your fucking degree 5 years felt more like 40.

“She is, after that boy Isaac left James took a liking to Sarah.”

You gasp, “James likes a girl!”

Your dad pulls into the driveway, “Shh don’t tell him I told you.”

You imitate zipping your lips. You jump out the car, “Lets get my stuff out later I wanna go into the house.” It was getting dark so you just wanted to bring your backpack in with you.

“Pretty lights dad, so pretty with the water in the back.”

“James loves those, they weave all around to the back deck.” You scope out the outside of the house, it looked like no one was home so walking up the stairs was a hard time. Until you realized there was none.

“Hey uh dad, did you know these are-?”

“Oh! Yeah Joel and Tommy are fixing that, paying them to renovate a little around the house, they have their own contracting brand and I trust Joel with my life. I couldn’t resist.”

The garage opens and you race inside, excited to see James. Feverishly opening the door to the house, “Hey bear cub, wait up!”

Before you open the door you see your dad pull out his phone, and..

“Surprise!”

People everywhere in the kitchen and living room, not many that you recognized but people that must’ve known your dad and brother.

A Welcome Home sign was big and tied across the main wall above the fireplace, fairy lights strung everywhere. Balloons floating about, food in the corner of your eye. The whole house smelled of familiar sweet and savory. The salt musk of the beach lingering.

“You’re home!” James came sprinting to you, causing you to drop your bag. You drop to him squeezing him so hard, you hadn’t seen him really since the funeral.

“You’re so big now! You had to have grown half a foot.” You whisper into his ear, patting down his hair. You didn’t really care if people were watching, or noticing how you were with James, then again you didn’t know any of them, and this was now your home too.

“You saw me a few months ago, I haven’t changed at all.”

“I know, I know.” You kiss his cheek. “Big bad Freshman.” You let off your strong hold, standing up.

“Dad…I didn't know you were throwing a surprise party.” You speak under your breath.

“That’s the point kiddo, a nice welcome home surprise. I wanted you to get to meet some people in the town and neighborhood, but thank James, he decorated it all, took my card and got the food and decorations.”

You pin his head, holding him under your arm.

“This little sucker planned all this.” You chip, looking up at the lights, then to all the smiling people. . “It’s perfect.” You let go, “Thank you everyone, this means a lot you’re all here.” You call out to the group. This was the most people you’ve been around since the funeral, you weren’t worried, but just taken aback, “I was trapped in the car with this fisherman for hours.” You smile at your dad. Everyone laughs, “My little girls back in town, free drinks at the restaurant this weekend.” He throws his fist in the air, an eruption roar swallows the entire room.

“Well I’m not going anywhere, so I’d love to get to meet you all.” You offer, people breaking into conversation, some looking at you, and now the go ahead from James to get food.

“Bear, I have to show you the deck!” James tugs you by the shirt, shoving you away from the living room. You grab onto the sliding glass door, finding more people outside, did pops have to invite the whole damn town?

Taken aback at the scenery, the last sliver of sun spilling onto the oceanfront. Waves crashing onto shore further in the distance. A match made in heaven.

Fairy lights on stakes around the deck, a tiny fire in the middle of the sitting area, warm wood under your feet. None to cause splinters. Your dads fishing gear all propped up. It was the dream house for you three.

“Dad…” You blink, “This is beautiful, when did you get this fixed up? I remember almost putting my foot through the wood…” You pause. “And that dock up there, when did that get put in?”

“That was put out plus all of this shit was fixed because of the Mill-”

“Sarah!” James yells into the living room. You watch her run out to fist bump James, and then run to hug you. She had changed so much, barely able to recognize her.

“Look who we have here.” Two men, vaguely familiar, men that you not only remember because you baby sat one’s beautiful daughter, but these men you remember being very, admittedly attractive.

Dumbstruck filled your body, no words to think. The whole family was beautiful, not having to see them for years was like meeting a family of chiseled romans. Sarah was absolutely beautiful, how was she just a freshman?

Eyes lingering up to Tommy, he had drooping long hair now, but it suited his face. Casual style, he went to shake your dads hand.

Now the man behind Tommy, the man who you remembered, Joel.

Trying not to linger too much, stepping aside with your dad, Joel went up and crushed him with a hug. His eyes opened, looking behind at you. Smiling, not knowing exactly what to say, you observe.

Joel had salt and pepper hair, porn style mustache, and a miscellaneous beard. His jeans fitting tightly around his waist, his arms bulging out of his shirt. Looking around when they all walked in, it got quieter inside and out. You could tell, mostly the women, the older women seemed to follow out near the deck.

“Heard James was the party planner for the whole night, good job buddy.” Tommy praises.

Joel lets go of your dad, “Jason, you didn’t tell us she’d be coming home.” Cheerfully, he looks at you, up and down.

“Yeah she’s living here now, freshly out of college.” He smiles, pulling you in for a side hug.

Looking down trying to think of something, “Thank you guys for coming, honestly Sarah I didn’t know you and James were in the same grade.”

“Oh no we're not.” She slaps his side playfully, “I’m a year older and I get to taunt his freshman ass.”

That makes the whole group laugh, happy to see your brother at least have one friend into high school.

“Tell us again, what did you do in college? Your pops here went on and on about your graduation.” Tommy asks, taking a seat next to James and Sarah.

Finally squeaking up, “I uh… I have a Masters in Ocean engineering, minored in economics focusing on math.”

Joel nods his head, tutting almost in his way of approval, standing on the other side of you now.

“I remember your dad tellin us all about that a few years back, why the interest?” Joel looks at you again, but differently.

Thinking on it, there were so many instances. The beach, boat days with your dad. Just water and animals, the earth.

“Well I guess from a young age, I was fascinated with the science of water life. Making 97% of the world, so many animals we don’t know of and so many that are extinct. It’s honestly all observation and numbers.” You shrug.

“Observation and numbers…” Joel stares at you, not letting go of your eyes.

Back when you would babysit Sarah, Joel would linger in your head for weeks. Watching him and Tommy work in their open garage while you would study wasn’t made for the easy minded.

Growing up either you were never the type to date, too much going on in your life at everypoint and you were focused on school, your friends and family. Dating was in the depths of your mind. But whenever you were with your dad, you remembered that seeing Joel Miller would ignite flames in your body.

No boy your age could fill the void, you fucked around but nothing ever stayed stable. You strayed away from anything serious, because truly you didn’t want anything serious when you were in college.

Joel was older. He was a dad, stable and made a living for himself. Not knowing him deeply was a fault, but something inside you spoke that he was a good man, with no ill intent for this world. There was this coexisting natural instinct being around him, but you were still young. No way in hell would anything ever happen, but you’d like to think in your head he might have thought of you in some sort of way.

In this moment, the passion or even lust you felt for Joel back then flooded through your veins, shaking you whole of your life. Stripping you empty of any amount of pride you had from innocence.

“She’s smarter than her pops, that's for sure.” You grin at him, “You remember in college when you failed that math entrance exam and you had to go to a math class at the high school next door?” Joel teases, him and your dad take seats in rocking chairs, you stay standing.

“Hey we all weren’t gifted like this one and Bryn.” Your dad comments. Bryn.

“How is Bryn by the way?” Tommy asks.

Your head shoots to Tommy, confused.

“You didn’t tell him?” Your dad asks Joel, he shakes his head. James froze and you stayed still, you hadn’t really heard her name in a few weeks.

Joel exchanges between you and your dad, “I didn’t really think to tell him but…” Joel starts.

“Tell me what?” Tommy interjects.

Your dad looks at you, then at Tommy.

“Well uh Tommy you weren’t really around, but Bryn died because of a car crash a couple months ago.”

It’s silent, you adjust your weight to the opposite leg, praying this would pass, this awkwardness of people not knowing what to say. All eyes on you know. The shallow breath sinking in your left ear from Tommy.

“Well I had to get my passion from someone, right?” You stare not at your dad, but the water past him. The last thing you wanted to talk about was your mom.

Everyone agrees, clearing their throats. The simple shared awkwardness swallowing you whole.

“I’m gonna go grab my bags dad, I’ll be back in a little, ‘scuse me.” You turn, “James this really is beautiful.” Pardoning yourself from the little group, you weren't really going to go back to the car, the beach doc was where you were headed.

It was dark enough that no one could see you, and ‘a little’ would be the rest of the night. You loop off the deck, rushing in the shadows of the light so no one could see you. Tears slipping faster than before. You wait a few seconds, then you book it to the doc.

The stars never looked brighter, you made it to the end, and turning around, none of them were looking at you.

Relief flooded through you, no scene was caused and your exit wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought.

You sat at the edge, catching your breath. Today was the most talking, let alone thinking you’ve done in a while. You knew this was going to be hard, coming back to the place you lived at during your childhood, you knew that a part of your life was over and revisiting it with a dead parent living through you was going to fry your heart.

Was there ever a possible way of making out of this alive, ever truly able to live on a forget?

Not properly realizing, but the memory from earlier was your last decently happy one you had with your parents together. More things to be reminded that your mom was no longer with you. How long was her loss going to strip you of pain, eat you whole and never stop?

“Hey,” Immediately you swipe the snot and tears off of your face at the tone of voice, Joel. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Peering up, you nod at him, scooting over on the wood. He sat close, but still with space. He brought a couple beers with him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause anything, I don’t want my dad to worry.”

“It’s okay, he wanted to check on you, but I thought it was better if someone else came out.” He shrugged.

“Want one?” He holds a beer out for you.

You nod yes, holding out for one.

You knock it open on the wood, taking a swig despite the horrible taste of your dads beer. You were next to Joel Miller.

It was better, with it being Joel. Instantly your body repositions, counting every breath you make. His scent lingered to you, knocking out your nose. He overpowered the sea, trying to place every note and detail about him.

You look back at the house and you could hesitantly see the whole female population looking your way.

“Looks like you’ve got some fans.” You scoff.

“What? Jealous?” He quirks his eyebrows at you.

He knows.

You look down smirking, trying to avoid his perfect fucking face. Another drink.

“I forgot to tell Tommy, he hasn’t been in town lately.”

“Don’t worry, he didn’t know, no ones fault.”

A few beats go by. The waves crashing for your silence.

“I get what it's like, death and grief.”

Slightly you turn to Joel, he’s looking out on the water.

“Sarah's mom died when she was born. I had to be a dad and mourn my wife at the same time.”

You wanted to say something, but you knew from first hand experience words don’t comfort anyone.

“Does it get any easier?” You whisper.

“It does, it’ll take a while but I promise it does.” He looks at you now. “Your dad and Tommy helped me through most of the stuff, but I had to figure out on my own what I wanted my life to look like.”

You blink, “And what if that never happens for me…what if I can’t do things on my own?”

“Don’t worry princess, it will. You’re bright you know? Better than this whole town.”

Your heart skips a beat. Laying down on the wood now, letting your feet dangle off the end, “I remember all those nights you would study, or you couldn’t come to dinner because you were nose deep in a book. That’s passion sweetheart.” He lays down beside you, staring at the stars.

His words were jumbling inside your head.

Your mom, him. Just moving back. He was so close to you now.

Whatever this was, you could almost feel it. Had it been brewing for so long?

But you were still young, and he was way older. It will always stay that way, and he’s your dad’s best friend, neighbor too. You can’t do this. You couldn’t mistake his kindness for comfort.

You close your eyes tight, forcing your tears to not be shown. You didn’t know what you wanted.

His hand brushed your cheek, swiping your tears away.

“It’s okay to cry, don’t close your eyes.” He whispers.

“First day back in town and I’m already crying, of all people being you.” Choking on your words

He scoots closer, his body warmth turning your insides.

Your breath coincides with his and the tears stop.

“I don’t think he would care.”

“Who?” He says.

“Jason.” You confirm.

With that, he brings your forehead to his lips, freezing as his hand wraps in your hair. He says nothing, watching him get up and walk away.