#2. they didn't tell alone in his family he'd was *dead*

[dudeshusband]

i haven't really considered what my s/i's reaction to matt faking his death would be.

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 3: Journey to the Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 1: Mandibles!

Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

I want to take a step back for a moment. Look at the bigger picture of Gravity Falls as a whole, and at the relationship between narrative foils that are the protagonists and antagonists of a story.

But first, just a recap: For anyone new, the Arsonist Theory proposes that Bill was not the sole person responsible for the destruction of his home dimension-- there was a third party, an accomplice that used him like he uses others now.

Once again:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING SOLUTIONS TO CIPHERS

On we go!

Gravity Falls is, at its core, a story about cycles.

More specifically, it's a story about the vicious cycles that enable bad behavior- both personal spirals, and cyclical patterns of behavior in families.

We see this most obviously with the Stan twins, with both personal and familial cycles. In the personal side of things, Stan broke Ford's perpetual motion machine, resulting in his parents disowning him and Stan vowing that they were wrong and they'd see that one day, only for every attempt to prove them wrong about him to backfire and get him into even worse trouble, each failure further cementing his reputation more and more as a lying, dishonest criminal-- hey, where have I heard this one before?

On Ford's side, he erroneously trusted Bill and was consumed by both the portal and, once he realized he'd made it, his mistake itself. Even after Bill's death, he's terrified of him-- the mistake consumes him, eats him up inside. However, every time he attempts to subdue Bill on his own without confiding in his family the full story for fear of their judgement, it all ends up making everything worse. The incident with the portal and Stan? It was because he refused to tell Stan what exactly was going on, deciding to keep it all to himself out of guilt and lash out instead of admitting that he'd trusted the wrong person and that he was in grave danger-- hey, I might have heard this one before, too!

On the familial side of things, the Pines twins' parents don't exactly have the best relationship, as revealed in the Book Of Bill.

That fight must have been pretty bad to give Dipper, a kid who's survived the APOCALYPSE, nightmares. The Pines family has been shaped by familial dysfunction, and now it's been passed on-- the Stan twins' parents weren't exactly the healthiest parents, especially Filbrick. It's plain to see that that dysfunction was passed down from generation to generation, until it hit the Pines twins' parents as well.

And hell, Dipper and Mabel almost being broken apart as well-- not only because of Ford offering Dipper an apprenticeship without considering Mabel, mirroring how he sees Stan as dead weight, but also because of their parents fighting. Mabel didn't want to go home to that environment alone, and Dipper wanted to be far, far away from it. The Stan twins were broken apart by their father, and now the Pines twins will be broken apart by the Stans.

Except... that's not what happened, was it?

The Pines twins didn't let this break them apart. Dipper ended up prioritizing his sister and caring about her and her feelings, without just writing her off as deadweight the way Ford did to Stan. And eventually, the Stan twins also reconciled. They broke the cycle, as protagonists in a story with a happy ending tend to do.

Bill, as their antagonistic foil, would therefore be perpetuating cycles like this, instead of breaking them.

Then it stands to reason that, from a Doylist perspective, wouldn't it make sense for Bill to have been a victim of the same kind of manipulation and deceit that he now inflicts onto others?

In fact, we already have an example of Bill being hurt by someone, then going on to pass that same pain onto someone else:

Even though this is a silly example, we've been given canonical evidence that the way Bill deals with trauma is to take it out on someone else. And let's be real, Gravity Falls is rife with examples of something seemingly silly at first but ending up to hold emotional weight for the characters involved. Take in point Stan's attachment to Wax Stan.

So, we've established the cycles present in Gravity Falls and Bill's thematic role as the antagonist leading to him perpetuating instead of breaking cycles. So, what does that mean for this theory?

Bill and Ford are already presented as foils to each other- they're both outcast individuals with both a strange personality and a mutation that make them unpalatable to others, with a sordid home life, who eventually make a huge supernatural mistake with apocalyptic consequences. So, it's natural to wonder: what if their parallels extend even beyond this?

Ford initially blamed himself for being foolish enough to fall for Bill's tricks, placing the blame largely on himself. However, his family was there for him to pull him out of that way of thinking and help him move past it. Bill, in contrast, didn't have a family, ergo he had no one to pull him out of a similar rut. And we see multiple times throughout the Book of Bill and the Axolotl's poem that he does regret what happened to Euclidia, and his role in causing the massacre, so it's not out of the question to think that maybe, his thinking followed a line similar to Ford's. That there was someone that took advantage of Bill's desire to make everyone understand, and Bill blamed himself both for falling for it and for being ineffectual in stopping it.

Ford was at a standstill and approached by Bill, who was a genuine friend in a lifetime of loneliness and who presented himself as a friend, only to be used by him to create a portal that Bill was going to use for destruction-- perhaps Bill went through the same sequence, as victim instead of perpetrator?

Did you know that most perpetrators of abuse are themselves victims of abuse? They grow up without healing from their past traumas, and end up inflicting it onto others, thus continuing the cycle.

(Here's a fun fact- that's actually what my first theory ever was about, before this blog!)

Anyway, to me it's becoming clearer and clearer-- there's a glaringly obvious thematic parallel here that very neatly supports the idea of someone having used Bill in this manner in the past.

Oh, and by the way- on Time Baby's report on Bill, a translated cipher refers to him as the "Lone survivor of the Euclidian Massacre"

Lone survivor? If he'd acted alone, wouldn't it say "perpetrator?" If Time Baby knew enough to know what dimension he was a survivor of despite Bill himself never even speaking its name, then he should know enough to know the story of what happened. There's always the possibility that he didn't, but I saw fit to mention it.

In part four, everything is gonna be tied together as neatly as I can, with some present-day clues from Bill's actions that point to certain parts of his trauma being linked together that, on their own, seem a bit... reach-y, but with three posts of evidence backing them, they hold more water than that.

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

[theamberfist]

Like Father, Like Child | Part 4 | Alastor x Exorcist! Reader

Familial! Alastor + Exorcist! Adopted Child! Reader

Description: When an angry mob comes knocking at the hotel's door, Alastor is more than prepared to defend his kid. And, as it turns out, so is said kid.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder, fallen angels) (gender neutral reader) (reader is Alastor's adopted child from when they were alive) (Final part of Like Father, Like Child)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You blinked, letting what you'd just witnessed on TV sink in. Not only did all of hell know you, an exorcist, was here now, but it seemed an entire angry mob had gathered under the command of that TV-headed demon to come and kill you. Amazing.

"...Maybe they'll lose interest before they get here?" Angel Dust said, reminding you that he was still there sitting beside you. On your other side, Vaggie didn't seem to think that outcome was very likely with the worried expression on her face. 

"I'll go warn Charlie." She decided finally, getting up from the couch and leaving the room before you could even say anything else.

"Angel," you spoke, turning to the spider-like demon with a serious tone now, "Tell me honestly; how bad is it?" You weren't familiar with the sinners in hell so you really weren't sure how brutal they could be about things like this yet. Would they really kill you just because they'd found out you were a fallen exorcist? 

There was a bang at the door, followed up by a series muffled shouts. You winced at the sound, realizing your time was likely up now and that the mob had arrived. "On a scale of one to ten?" Angel asked and you nodded, turning back to him eagerly as you hoped he'd reassure you, "an eleven." So much for reassurance. 

"I'm so dead," You groaned, pulling your knees up and burying your face in them. You didn't have much time to dwell on your fast-approaching demise, though, because another familiar voice spoke behind you. 

"Nonsense, darling!" It was Alastor, and the second you heard him you snapped up, looking over at the deer-like overlord. "If that pathetic mob of sinners think they can break into this hotel and harm one of its guests, they clearly need to be taught a lesson." he didn't add the unspoken fact that that resident was also his kid, but he didn't need to; you knew it was the main reason he seemed so upset.

"Since when have you cared about any of us?" Angel asked in confusion, pointing to you, "They just got here, like, ten minutes ago!"

"All the more reason to ensure they're left alone!" Your dad replied as he straightened his bow-tie and then began heading for the front door. 

"W-wait, what are you going to do?" You asked, calling after him. He paused for just a brief moment, glancing your way with the sinister smile you'd come to expect from him now. 

"Nothing they won't have deserved." And with that, he seemed to blink right out of sight and the sounds of screaming outside became louder. Only, now, they weren't screams demanding you to come out; they were screams of pain as the sinners begged him to stop whatever he was doing. 

Your jaw dropped as you stayed frozen on the couch. You weren't sure what to do. Angel seemed to notice your concern because he just waved the situation off. 

"Eh, don't worry, toots." He told you, turning back to the TV, which was playing his favorite show again. "I know you're an angel and all, but smiles has killed plenty of people so this is nothing new. Trust me, it ain't your problem." He had expected you to give up and turn back to the TV too, but instead, you stood from the couch and headed for the nearest set of stairs, determined to see just what your dad was doing with the screaming sinners outside. 

"Hey, where ya going?" Angel called, "You'll miss the finale!"

"Record it for me!" You called before running up the stairs as fast as you could. Angel sighed but shrugged as he hit the record button and then continued watching his show. 

Meanwhile, you finally made it as high-up as the stairs would allow, reaching a balcony somewhere on the second floor. There, you looked out at the carnage your dad was currently causing. He'd grown a lot bigger than he was inside the hotel before and black tentacles extended from his body, grabbing various sinners and tossing them into his mouth to eat. The sight was more than a little terrifying, but at the same time, you wanted to follow after him.

Even if your dad was a know killer, and even if you were supposed to have been an angel, something inside you didn't want to make him do this alone. You wanted to help; especially since you knew he was out there killing people for your sake. 

But as a former angel, shouldn't you have known better than to fall to your own murderous urges? You'd been dealing with them all your life and afterlife so you couldn't give in now. 

"Fallen angel?" A voice to your right spoke suddenly and you practically jumped out of your skin, turning to see...Lucifer? It was undoubtedly the king of hell; sitting and drinking tea out of what looked like a duck-themed cup as he gazed at Alastor's actions. Remembering the story of what happened to him, you couldn't help but relate a bit as you finally relaxed and then nodded.

"...Yeah." You turned to look back at your dad, who had now grabbed a huge group of sinners and was biting their heads off like it was candy. Your face scrunched in disgust at the sight but Lucifer seemed either unbothered by it or too bothered to be bothered anymore. "And I'm assuming you know him?" He asked, pointing to your dad. You nodded awkwardly. 

"Yeah...We're related," You admitted reluctantly. You weren't sure why Alastor had been hesitant to tell everyone about you being his kid, but maybe it was to avoid a situation like the one you were in right now. 

"Yeesh," Lucifer replied as he took another sip of his tea, "That's gotta be rough. No wonder you feel from heaven too."  You paused at that; surprised by how he wasn't even questioning you.

"What am I...Supposed to do now?" You asked after a second. Lucifer froze, glancing back at you in surprise. 

"You're asking me?"

"I guess." You admitted with a shrug, "You fell once too, didn't you?" After a moment he nodded, setting his cup down on the table. 

"Whatever you want, I suppose." He told you, "I always wanted human souls to have free will, which is how we ended up in this shithole in the first place." He stood, leaning against the balcony as the sounds of more screams filled the air from the Radio Demon's actions, "You can try to get back into heaven or just...Exist." He seemed pretty deflated as he leaned half his body over the railing now; practically falling off.

Still, you considered his words. Do whatever you wanted, huh? 

You'd tried to avoid killing, no matter how much you wanted to, for your entire life. Now, you were dead and you'd already killed countless sinners for the 'greater good,' and permanently, at that. You'd ended up in hell already, so it wasn't like anything mattered anymore.

So what did you want to do? 

You paused, contemplating the question for a moment before finally coming to a decision. You turned back to the king of hell with a bright smile once your mind was made up. "Thanks, Lucifer." His expression seemed to soften at that and a smile even made its way onto his face.

"No problem," he told you genuinely, "I'm always happy to help a young sinner and-" He cut himself off when you turned and jumped right off the hotel balcony into the bloodshed. From there, you seemed to instinctively figure out whatever powers you might have had, either from being an angel or being fallen, and began assisting Alastor in killing off the crowd of demons around the building. "-enable their murderous behavior..." Lucifer finished his sentence with a regretful sigh. Why did he even bother with these sinners again?

Meanwhile, you felt more exhilarated than you'd been since before you died. It turned out you had some sort of light-related power. You could shoot small beams of white light from your hands, blasting holes right through sinners like a laser. It probably wouldn't kill them permanently, but the memory and pain would be enough to stop them from ever coming after you again.

Being down there and fighting sinners was one of the most natural moments you'd experienced in a while. You supposed it came from being the child of a literal overlord, but it couldn't have been more fun. Alastor seemed to notice your presence on the impromptu battlefield now too because one of his tentacles gently reached down, picked you up, and then placed you on his giant shoulder. 

"It seems the power of a former exorcist is quite useful, isn't it, darling?" He asked before throwing another five sinners into his mouth. 

"Sure is!" You replied with a smile that rivaled even your dad's, "I can see why you became an overlord now; this is the best!" Alastor's own grin only widened at that; pride swelling in his chest. Most of the sinners were gone now thanks to both his power and your angelic laser beams, but there was one still nearby that caught his attention. 

Vox attempted to scramble away but wasn't fast enough; being plucked from the ground by Alastor's hand. He hadn't even needed a tentacle to grab the TV demon and now he simply held him by the back of his shirt for the both of you to see. 

"Now, this is who brought this crowd here today." He informed you, even though you already knew. Alastor glanced at you, still on his shoulder. "Would you care to do the honors?" 

You brightened at that, immediately nodding. "I'd love to!" Alastor cackled, turning back to the terrified Vox.

"Let it be known," he said, "That this is what happens when you mess with the Radio Demon or his child!" Alastor was more than aware of the fact that there were likely cameras on you three right now, figuring what better way to announce his relation to you? With that out of the way, you shot a laser beam at Vox, melting through his body and then his head, ensuring it would be a long time before he finally regenerated. 

Once you were done, Alastor turned and chucked Vox's temporarily-dead body across the entirety of Pentagram City; you weren't even sure where it ended up landing. 

Your dad began to shrink back to his normal size now, gently placing you on the ground nearby to ensure you didn't get hurt. Once he was back to normal, he turned to you with the widest smile. 

"Very well done, my dear!" He exclaimed with nothing but pride, "I didn't think you had it in you, but it seems we'll make a hellish overlord out of you yet!" You laughed as his hand gently ruffled your hair, feeling all the anger and grief you'd once held towards him melt away. It seemed embracing your murderous tendencies really had done wonders for your emotional state. 

"Thanks, dad." You replied, hugging the deer-like demon for the first time in many years. His smile somehow widened even more as he pulled you closer, ignoring the surprised looks of the hotel guests, who'd come out now to see if the fight was over. 

"Dad?!" Angel repeated in shock. Meanwhile, Charlie and Vaggie were too stunned to speak. Cherry seemed to not know what to think of it, Nifty was beyond touched by the scene, and Husk couldn't even be surprised by any of Alastor's actions anymore. 

"Would you call this...A reverse redemption?" Lucifer asked, leaning over to his own daughter and feeling slightly responsible for the horror he'd just released upon hell through you. She didn't reply but you and Alastor both turned back to the hotel now, heading over to the group as if this was the most casual situation.

"Now, how about I make some jambalaya?" Alastor suggested as your eyes immediately lit up. 

"That was my favorite when I was alive!"

"It sure was!" Alastor agreed, tapping your head with his radio-cane as you smiled. As you walked past the rest of the hotel guests, they all remained frozen in shock. 

"Is this ever not gonna be weird?" Angel asked no one in particular. He hadn't expected to receive a response, but then you called from inside.

"Probably not!" After that, all that followed was the sound of yours and your father's combined laughter.

Like father, like child. 

……….

Tags for those who requested: @avitute @deadgirldreaming

[redbird-tf]

Never leaving

Jason todd x (platonic) reader

Summary: Jason finds out you've gone missing following the escape of Joker. He won't allow the Joker to inflict on you what he suffered. Jason won't stop at anything to bring you home.

Word count: 950

Warning: angst

Jason was furious. he had just found out the Joker escaped Arkham again, but surprisingly that wasn't the main reason for his rage. You had gone missing three days ago. the whole bat family had been looking for you but not a single one had bothered to bring it up to Jason, typical. He had quite the altercation with Batman due to the fact.

“Why didn't you tell me!” He yelled throwing his fist in the bat’s direction. “It’s not like youre around much Jason” Bruce stated grabbing his wrist, Jason pulled back “This is different. You know me and y/n are closer,” he said through gritted teeth. “And jokers back, with her missing, and it's been a week. A goddamn week!” Jason screamed “We are doing our best Jason, i know what you-“Bruce was cut off “And you know if anyone can find him, it's me!” He pounded on his chest “And you'd be out of control!” Bruce shouted “And the last time you decided to do things your way with the Joker, i died. I won't let you do that to y/n. She doesn't deserve that”Jason put on his helmet and sped out of the batcave on his motorcycle

Jason wasn't very close with any of the bat's adopted family but you were different. You met Jason on a mission months after being taken in by Bruce. After that day you asked who he was and his story, and instead of being disappointed you understood. Apart of you agreed with the way he did things but the other half didn't want to disappoint Batman, he understood. You started spending your patrol nights with him and despite his hard-ass personality, you grew closer. You were the only one who treated him like true family. You were his little sister and he'd die all over again for you.

He didn't know what scared him more, you being dead or being alive with the Joker. Jason searched endlessly and picked up a pattern the Joker had left behind. He was holding you at a warehouse, originally clearly. Jason pinned the location and drove as fast as he could. When he arrived he kicked down the door storming into the dark room “You're going to ruin all the fun!” That to happy voice called. “Step out joker!” He yelled pulling out his gun. “Boo hoo, I've nearly gotten to teach her any manners” The joker stepped in front of Jason. Jason wasted no time knocking him on his ass. “Where is she?!” Jason demanded. “Now why would i tell you that? Don't worry I'll return her like new… like you” The Joker started to laugh. A loud bang was heard with silence following. Jason had killed the bastard with no regret.

Jason searched the warehouse calling your name, worry grew with every passing second until he reached the back where he found a locket door. He docked the door off its hinges and entered the room. “Y/n!” He screamed seeing your body weakly curled in the corner covered in blue and red. “Jason..” your voice rasp “Don't speak,” he said placing his jacket over your body as most of your suit had been ripped off. “It's my fault, i went after him alone” you began to cry “None of this is your fault! Now please be quiet and let me help you,” he said grabbing your shoulders. He bandaged what he could and hoisted you on his back, piggyback as he began to walk out.

“Shit” he mumbled seeing the batmobile in the distance. It stopped in front of him and Batman wasted no time making his way in front of Jason “You're late” Jason stated in a monotone voice. “What happened?” Batman asked “Same thing that happened last time, but i stopped it” Jason replied. “You killed him?” He asked “Don't worry, killing him the last 2 times didn't last long” Jason said with annoyance. “Y/ns coming home with me,” Bruce said holding out his arms. “I don't think so,” Jason said making his way to his bike “She needs medical Jason!” Batman yelled “I've learned,” Jason said throwing a mean glare. Jason sat the both of you on his bike wrapping your arms around his waist. “Y/n?” Batman questioned in a stern tone. “Jason..” you said weakly turning away from Bruce. Jason saw the hurt on his face “Call if you need anything” he said to Jason before turning back “Sure”

You groaned regaining consciousness, when you tried sitting up two hands softly pushed you back down onto the pillow “Stay down” a voice called. You slowly open your eyes seeing Jason stitch up your leg. He finished and softly placed down your leg “you might feel a little groggy from the anesthesia” he explained “Where are we?” You asked “My safe house, your safe here.” He said pulling the blanket over you. “Jason, he told me what he did to you…” Jason sighed tucking in the covers “Don't worry about me” he replied standing up. “I'll leave you to get some rest” he turned around but was quickly stopped by your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“I don’t wanna be alone” you whined “I'll just be across the hall” he explained removing your hand “Please Jason, don't leave me now” Your voice cracked and your eyes displayed a fear he knew all too well. He sat at the side of the bed. “I'll be here when you wake up,” he said whipping away your tears, you gave a weak smile before allowing yourself to drift to sleep. Jason gently took your hand into his, caressing his thumb over your knuckles, “i won't ever leave you”

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

We've Got Tonight (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader)

Find Part Two Here

A/N: WOW, is all I can say. The alarming support from those of you reading my work is driving me to write more than EVER right now! I cannot say thank you enough, y'all. Your notes and comments inspire me, so please keep it up if you wanna read more from me!

I'm about to bless y'all with some McBeardy angst, so I hope you all enjoy!!

Also, this fic was inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so I highly recommend listening to the song before and/or after reading this one to get into the vibe of it.

Summary: Paul is in his lonesome after a break up. So are you. You decide to keep each other company.

WARNINGS: ANGST, but it gets sweet in the end. Mentions of cheating, low self esteem. Suggestive actions, mentions/insinuation of sex, but no smut (that'll be saved for a bonus part 2 if anyone's interested in that.)

There is mention of the Beatles' extended family, so if I have any incorrect info in here, I apologize in advance; I didn't want this to become too much of a history lesson.

Also, like my other fics, this one is a NOVEL, so please read when you have a good half hour+ of free time :)

I don't wanna rate this a T, but there is no smut in this, so please just be aware that there is sex mentioned/insinuated, so PLEASE just read at your own discretion. But most of all, enjoy!

Paul was sitting on the sofa in the den, alone with the lights out. He was staring out the window at the night in silence as he sucked down another cigarette and sipped at another glass of scotch.

It was late enough that the world around him was dead sleep, yet he was wide awake, and alone with his thoughts.

He broke it off with Linda. She was a sweet girl, and no one was really quite sure why things ended between them, but they all knew it was a mutual agreement.

Paul really hadn't been taking it well, though. He hadn't been sleeping right for almost a month, and he stared drinking a little more. He didn't want anyone really knowing, which is why he did it in his lonesome.

He wasn't necessarily by himself, because the rest of the Beatles were upstairs in their collective rooms asleep; but what made him feel alone was that alongside the bandmates in their rooms were their families and wives. And Paul just didn't have that.

Usually he would have been rather vocal over something that bothered him so much, but the band felt like recently they'd been clashing, so he wasn't wanting to bother them with something like that.

While Paul finished the final puff of his cigarette and put out the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table, his head snapped to the entrance of the den, where he caught sight of a silhouette in the threshold.

You stopped in your tracks when Paul made eye contact with you. You supposed he'd heard your footsteps.

From what you could tell from the light of the moon shining in through the window, Paul seemed worn out. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand before wordlessly nodding to you in acknowledgement.

"... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't know anyone was still awake. I was just needing a drink," you explained quietly. You'd met Paul a few times here and there-- you had to, with Ringo-- or Rich-- your brother, being one of his bandmates and all.

Paul was always kind when you interacted with each other, but you could definitely tell something was a little off about his behaviour this time around.

Rich did mention Paul's break-up to you briefly, but you were going through your own separation, so you were in your own head with your own problems. That's why Rich offered to bring you along with him, Maureen, Zak, and Jason on this trip with the rest of the guys and their families, so you could get away from thinking about your ex.

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar space put you in the same position as Paul; wide awake, in the middle of the night, with a racing mind.

"'S alright," he sighed before drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass and raising to his feet. You watched him move around the room to the alcohol cabinet right outside the kitchen.

He refilled his glass right to the top before wordlessly grabbing a second glass out, tossing in a few ice cubes, and filling it three quarters of the way before sliding it over to you.

Your eyes widened a little, considering you'd actually come down for some water, but maybe this was a sign you were going to want something stronger.

"... Should've asked you if you even like this stuff," Paul stated apologetically when he realized how gentlemanly he was not being. You smiled sadly at him, but picked up the glass anyways.

He matched his glass to the same level as yours before you both gently tapped them together. The sound of the glass chimed for a moment before you and Paul raised the drinks to your lips.

The scotch was harsh, and you surely made an unflattering face as you took a sip, but Paul didn't say anything to you, as he was too busy staring at the ice swirling around in his own glass.

"... What're you doing up so late, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked after a moment of silence, and Paul's big brown eyes met yours for another quiet second as he thought about what to respond with.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek before shrugging and mumbling into his glass, "thinking."

After taking another sip of his drink and staring off into space for a moment or two, he bit his lip, gesturing over to you with his glass.

"And you?" You shook your head, realizing it was your turn to scrounge up an excuse for being wide awake at such an absurd time.

"Can't sleep," you lied.

Paul frowned, motioning you to the sofa he was just sitting on to invite you to sit for a while. After a moment of pondering whether you should really go back to your room, you made up your mind and headed to the sofa, Paul following suit.

There was just something about the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, and behind them was this sadness you just couldn't ignore.

Before he took a seat, you were able to get another good look at him. He was in black jeans, and a green sweater; his day-clothes completely contrasting your pyjama set. He'd grown his hair out since you saw him last, and now he was sporting a full beard.

You always thought he was a good looking guy, but now, without being blinded by any bias, there was really no denying how handsome Paul had become since you seen him last.

In fact, it felt like every time you ended up seeing him next, he always seemed to look better and better, and you weren't quite sure how that was possible.

Paul took the seat right next to you, and he set his drink down on the coffee table, clasping his hands together, elbows on the thighs, and hanging his head.

"To be honest with you... I went through a separation about a month ago. And I don't seem to be handling it well." He finally sighed, turning his head so he was looking at you again. He unclasped his hands and ran his fingers through his beard a few times.

"I'm a romantic, y'know, and I'm not a fan of being so lonely." You nodded your head a little at his words. What was tough was that you didn't have anything encouraging to say to him because you were in the same boat.

Paul swallowed when you remained silent, and then he cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head nervously as he leaned back into the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you're probably just wanting to head to bed." He gave a little head nod of understanding as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "You're not here to talk to me about my problems."

It was your turn to set your drink down on the table, turning your attention to him again.

"Well... will that help make you feel better, perhaps?" you watched Paul's eyes meet yours again, and he pressed his lips together tightly in thought.

"... I don't know if there is really much to say," he said after a moment, reaching for his glass again.

"Thank you, though. Was very kind of you to offer somethin' like that."

After he took another sip of his drink, he gestured to you again with his glass.

"... Ringo sort of mentioned you were going through a separation too... You doin' okay?" Paul tried his best to be as inclusive as possible, but it was all rough stuff to talk about, so he treaded carefully.

"I mean..." you trailed off for a moment before responding with a simple, "I'm angry, above all else."

You were honestly taken aback by Paul's question. Rich wasn't necessarily the greatest person to receive comforting advice from, especially when it came to this separation, since he thought so highly of your ex, but you perhaps weren't telling him the whole truth.

But you were definitely surprised he even mentioned your pain to anyone else, let alone his bandmates.

"Kept a lot of heavy things to myself for a long time, it just became exhausting." Now it was your turn to reach for your scotch, still cringing at its strength as you took a generous mouthful.

Paul waited a beat before asking, "would talking about it with me maybe make you feel better?"

"... you really care to know that stuff?" You asked gently for clarification. As mentioned, you and Paul weren't close, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you met him prior to this moment...

And this was heavy stuff you were seemingly about to share, and you really wanted to make sure he was okay with that.

Paul nodded his head without hesitation, and offered, "'s the least I can do for you for keeping me company so late."

You sighed a deep breath, and took a few more sips from your glass before putting it back down, curling your legs up to your chest, and began.

You told Paul about your ex. You told him about how you were with him for five years, and watched him slowly fall out of love with you, sleep around, and how you struggled with self-image and self-worth for a long time.

You also mentioned how you were the one to leave, but he had no idea you had any strength to do so, so he tried for a long while to guilt you into going back to him.

The difficult things to talk about made you a little more emotional, so you breathed your way through it slowly as to not cry. The drink Paul poured for you was helping you relax at least.

Paul was more than patient with you, and you were grateful for that. At one point during the lengthy conversation, he lit another cigarette, and began offering you drags throughout your story to calm your nerves.

You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.

"... I don't know. I just lay awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different so he didn't do what he did."

You were staring out the window with Paul now, taking in just how many stars you could actually see from the den. He took his final puffs of his smoke, the thin silver waves swirling in the air above the both of your heads.

"Sounds like he didn't cherish you enough when you were around," Paul debated gently, shaking his head and putting out his cigarette end in the ashtray next to the others. He picked up his scotch again before mumbling against the rim,

"He's not worth it."

You pulled yourself from the trance of the tiny lights outside to wipe remnants of silent, salty tears off your cheeks, and you used that moment to glance over at Paul, whose nose was still deep in the glass. When he pulled the drink away from his mouth and swallowed, you parted your lips to speak.

"... was Linda worth it?" You didn't mean it in a rude way, but you hadn't met her personally, and you wanted to pry Paul just a tiny bit.

He smiled, but it was bitter. You figured you struck a nerve, and before you could apologize for what you said, he answered simply, with tears glossing his own eyes,

"Yes. She was."

You tilted your head a little and frowned, trying to understand what drove them apart.

"It was just never the right timing. She was ready for things I wasn't in the beginning, and then down the road, when I was seemingly ready for those things, she wasn't. And I didn't want her wasting her time on a life she didn't wanna live, y'know?"

"So she's the one that got away," you mused gently.

"Indeed, she was." Paul nodded a little before finishing the rest of his scotch in his glass, leaning back again, and cradling his head in his hand as he looked at you for another quiet moment, resting his glass in-hand on his thigh.

"... I'm not a bad person, am I?" Those watery eyes never disappeared, and you had to break his sad gaze, opting to reach out and rub his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, no. Wasting your time, or her time, like the way my ex did to me, would have made you a bad person, Paul. Saying good bye was the right thing to do."

"Well, I wish that made me feel better," he mumbled, dropping his own gaze to the space between the both of you. He pushed a stray tear away before he thought you could see it, and then scratched at his beard again. You guessed that must have been a habit of his out of stress.

"Something about her made me feel like she was the one. Like we were meant to share the same story; but we always seemed to be on a different chapter,"

He sniffled, but only once. "That being said, was I perhaps too lovestruck in the end to want to believe that her future was meant to be shared with someone else?"

His voice carried so much sorrow, and you knew he needed some kind of advice. It took you a moment or so to find the right words to say to him.

"... Knowing my ex wasn't right for me and the reality of me leaving doesn't make me feel any better. At all." You offered to Paul, before adding,

"... But why should the expectations of those we chose to take out of our life dictate the way we behave today?"

The words that came out of your mouth were surprisingly wise, and you watched Paul's eyebrows knit together as he absorbed what you said.

He focused his sight to you again, a more determined look on his face. Paul knew you were absolutely right. He was a charmer; romancing people was his thing.

There was no denying Linda was special, but when he realized he really had no commitment in romancing her anymore, he finally understood that it was his own thoughts holding him back.

Even if it took him a little longer than expected, he knew you were right. He would recover from this.

"... I think you just opened my eyes and made me realize something... Thank you, y/n, really." He reached up with his free hand after a second, fingers grazing your own hand still on his arm in comfort, showing you his gratitude for your words of advice.

You smiled a little, glad you were able to help him somewhat through his times of trouble as you pulled your hand away.

Paul stood up again, retrieving his empty glass from the coffee table before facing you fully, a more genuine smile beginning to pull on the corners of his mouth, but it was still rather sad.

"I'm grabbing a refill, you too?"

Your sight drifted to your near-empty glass on the table.

Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?

"Please," you asked, grabbing the glass yourself, but Paul began to tut at you as he grabbed the glass from your fingers.

"Please, I'll get it for you," he insisted, and you watched his slender figure move around the couch to head for the alcohol cabinet another time. He filled them only halfway this time, and on the way back he made a brief stop at the record player near the entrance of the den.

Soft classical music rang out quietly from the player once Paul dropped the needle down onto the vinyl, and he returned to his spot next to you with your two drinks. You thanked him quietly as he passed the glass over to you, and he leaned in a little, raising his drink between the two of you.

"Hello to... new beginnings," he began slowly.

"And Goodbye to false finales," you finished, your glasses tapping together again before you took yet another sip of the drink.

Paul matched your movements, his eyes watching you, even when you turned away to gaze longingly out the window for a moment, basking in the feeling of the gentle music flirting with your ears.

Sure, you and Paul could have went on for the rest of the night discussing your heartbreak, but you decided to drive the conversation elsewhere.

You sighted back to him after a while, his sight unwavering from you. Your eyes locked for just a beat before you decided aloud with a gentle nod,

"... you know, that beard really suits you."

Paul's eyebrows shot up, and his face darkened a little as he bit his lips between his teeth almost nervously.

"... Think so?"

You'd never seen him lack so much confidence when given a compliment before, but instead of pitying him, you almost admired his innocence.

It sounded like he needed to hear a compliment like that.

"Yes," you laughed airily, raising your glass up for another drink. Paul couldn't bite back his smile anymore, so he copied you to mask his lips. You then gestured to your head with the point of your finger as you swallowed the alcohol back easier and easier each time.

"Your hair, too. I think it's a nice length."

Your kind words made Paul feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he placed his scotch back down on the table.

"Well, thanks, Love." He rubbed the back of his neck, and laughed weakly. "I call it my 'Don't View The Mirror For Three Weeks' look."

Paul paused in his moments of self-deprecation to realize he should have maybe complimented you back. He took a second to take another good look at you as he decided what to say, exactly.

"... Y'know, the last time I saw you was a few years ago, now."

You thought for a moment on that. It had been a while since you'd seen him last. You nodded your head as you recalled the day.

"You're right, it has been some time. Christmas, 1966." John and Cynthia had hosted this massive holiday dinner, and everyone's extended family was there.

You were single at the time, and spent dinner conversing with Paul's sister, Ruth, who was at least fifteen years younger than you. There was no introduction made by Paul, she just walked up, introduced herself to you, and made a friend by herself.

She went on and on about school, and music, and how the potatoes were her favourite part of dinner; and you paid attention to everything she had to say, responding with your own opinions and jokes to keep her feeling included amongst the adults at the table.

And Paul, who was seated next to Ruth, couldn't help but overhear your conversations throughout the evening, and he found it rather charming that you treated Ruth with such respect despite her young age.

And after dinner, you and Ruth danced together almost the whole night. She eventually went over to do a little dancing with Paul, and you watched as she bounced around excitedly with her brother, who, for just a moment, locked eyes with you across the sea of dancing guests.

You remember giving him a shy wave with a smile, and he sent a wink back your way before returning his attention to Ruth, spinning her around as she squealed happily.

"... I'm rather fond of that evening," Paul stated simply, the reality of your melancholy evening strongly contrasting with the memories of the wonderful night.

Now you and Paul weren't so young, and this time he was noticing the little lines under your eyes, indicating the dragging march of time slowly catching up to you both.

"And, even after all the years that have passed... you still look as lovely tonight as you did then."

You blushed at Paul's compliment, biting back a stupid grin as you repeated the words in your head.

"And I admire your ever-present kindness," he added on, and you knew he really just meant he showed appreciation for lending him an ear in his time of need.

"More people need to be like you."

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly, settling for a gentle "thank you," in the end. Paul just nodded, unsure if there was anything to say back.

"You know..." you paused for a second, watching as Paul went for another sip from his glass. "It was quite a shame we never got a dance in that night together, just you and me."

Paul was mid sip when you said that, so you continued on.

"The music was great, everyone was in high spirits, and I was maybe too shy to approach you myself and ask you to dance with me. So I guess that's on me." You scratched your elbow as you announced your rather dumb confession to him.

Paul, who was nearly done with his drink now, waited a moment or two in thought, before rising to his feet, and wandering back over to the record player, scotch still in hand.

You tried to watch his movements over your shoulder, but it was really dark. All you knew was that he was changing the music.

The classical tune cut, and the player began to drawl a much slower, more recent song; one you hadn't yet heard.

Paul turned on his heel as he reapproached the sofa, taking the final sip of scotch he had left in his glass before placing it back down on the table, and reaching his hand out for you to take.

"Well, let's not let this dance wait any longer, then, yeah?"

You froze for just a moment, Paul's outstretched hand hung in the air for a few seconds, and your sight moved up to his face, where you noticed his confidence falter just a little.

"Again, I know it's late, and I know your plans for the night surely didn't include me..."

"But, still, here we are." Your words came out almost effortlessly. You finished your scotch as well, and when you finally put your hand in Paul's, he squeezed your fingers gently, that warm upturn finally returning to his lips.

He guided you slowly over to the windows so you weren't in so much darkness, the moonlight still shining just enough for you both to see one another; and when Paul decided he could see your face much better, he let his other hand drop to your waist, watching as your own hand rested on his forearm.

You both shifted from side to side to the beat of the music, and you stared absentmindedly at the small space between you both.

"... You okay?" He asked you quietly after a minute, and you looked up at him, cheeks reddening as you realized you could feel his breath fanning your face.

"I've realized just how long it's been since I last danced with someone like this," you mentioned sheepishly, and a little smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.

"You don't have two left feet, y'know," his tone was almost teasing, and you smiled back, glad he wasn't feeling so much sadness anymore.

Paul then added with a little shrug, "'Sides, I wanted to dance with you that night, too. But I'm very glad I have the honours now."

Paul began turning with you in slow circles together as you continued to sway, and you took a moment to decide your next words carefully.

"... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it's different when you're dancing with someone who actually wants to dance with you. It's just... it's really nice. So thank you, Paul."

Paul let go of your waist for a moment, and raised your clasped hands above your heads so you could twirl under his arm.  When you did just that, and faced him again, he pulled you just a little closer than you were before, your torsos flush as his hand snaked slowly to the small of your back.

"Thank you," he mumbled back, quietly. You weren't entirely sure what he was thanking you for this time, but you never asked.

Instead, you shut your eyes and opted to rest your head in the crook of his neck as the hand you had on Paul's bicep slid upward so your arm circled around his shoulders, in a half embrace.

And then you felt Paul tilt his own head down as if to envelope you more. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat when he did that.

Paul then began to hum the lyrics of the song, quietly, as if you were the only person in the world who was meant to hear it. Both yours and his eyes were closed now as you two basked in such a beautiful moment.

Two lonely people, finding comfort, and peace in each other.

Paul raised your clasped hands closer to him so he could rest them against his chest. You could actually feel his heartbeat pounding against the side of your hand, which made you a little nervous, but not in a bad way.

Paul stopped moving you around in circles, but the swaying never ceased. He lifted his cheek off your crown after a while, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and raise your gaze back to his face.

Paul smiled so sweetly at you, and you watched his eyes shift ever so slightly from left to right as he looked back into yours. His eyebrows then worried for just a moment before he opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came out.

Your shifting finally slowed to a standstill, and you opened your mouth this time to speak, yet you found yourself in Paul's very position.

There was nothing to say.

You watched as his gaze softened on you, and you weren't sure if it was the drinks, or the lack of sleep, but it was like you could almost feel the gravity around you manipulating you to move just a little closer to him.

And he must have felt it as well. Paul's head began to drop slowly, and it wasn't long before you met him in the middle, your lips coming together in a very soft, and very unplanned kiss. The both of you kept still, almost as if the smallest move would have frightened the other away.

You were both holding your breath as well, and Paul pulled away from the kiss first, arm still wrapped around your back, hand still clasped in yours.

He was staring at you in awe, as were you, eyes wide, and lips still slightly parted as you both processed what exactly just happened.

Paul still couldn't muster any words, nor could you, for that matter; but he could definitely read your gaze. Your eyes were almost begging him to do that again.

And that's exactly what happened; your lips came crashing into each other again after only another second.

You weren't stupid, and neither was he. You both already knew this night was going to become something else entirely. You were craving the touch of someone, and you didn't even have to tell him.

You could just tell with the way he was moving his mouth against yours, and the way his body was flush with you, that he was wanting it just as bad.

Paul's hand finally let go of yours so he could lace his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, and your own hand slid around to his back. He tried pulling you even closer, but it just wasn't possible.

You sighed quietly as you kissed him again, and again, and Paul's hand unweaved itself from your hair as he cupped your face before breaking the kiss off again, another troubled look on his face.

"Ringo'll kill me if he knew I was--"

"Paul, please. I need this," you didn't let him finish his sentence. You didn't really care what your brother thought of anything, and you assumed, deep down, Paul really didn't care either, because he dove back in for more kisses as soon as he could.

His hands cupped your jawline as you gripped his sweater in your fists at his chest. You parted your mouth slightly and just melted into Paul's arms when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.

You moaned lowly against him, ears ringing, and all Paul could think to do was blindly shuffle you backwards towards the sofa, but instead, you felt the coffee table hit the back your legs, and you nearly stumbled back. The glasses, once filled with scotch but now only ice, shuffled against the table's surface at the force of you bumping into it.

Paul ended your kiss once more, one of his hands leaving the side of your face to circle around your hips quickly so you didn't fall back. He smiled at you when he knew you weren't going anywhere, offering you a teasing, "maybe you do have two left feet, Darling."

That wonderful pet name made your flesh rise with goosebumps, but all you could mumble to him was, "Just shut up and kiss me, Paul."

Without hesitation, he did just that, which felt like an eternity to the both of you since the last one.

He, still blindly, yet carefully, directed you around the table and to the sofa. Paul, with his hands holding your hips, was the first to sink down, but encouraged you to straddle him as soon as he was fully seated with an encouraging tap to the back of your thighs.

It was your turn to pull away now, your dominant hand resting flat against the centre of Paul's chest as you gave him a good once-over, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Paul was leaned back, lips parted and shining, assumably from the spit you'd been exchanging, and his eyes almost twinkling at you in adoration.

Your heart was full of something you hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was all because of this sensual interaction.

You reached out with your other hand and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, his shallow breath fluttering gently against the skin on your fingers. You tilted his head up and kissed him again, and your fingernails just couldn't resist playing with his beard any longer.

Paul's grip on your hips tightened when you started doing that, and when you decided to take your other hand off his chest and start playing with his hair, he let out a very low groan against your lips, and to both of your surprise, his hips bucked up involuntarily against you.

He gasped at his own actions, and you pulled away to view the look of apologetic shock written on his face. His cheeks and neck were flushed, and his eyebrows were bent in worry, again.

"I-I promise I didn't mean to..." Paul's voice carried a hint of... shame, almost. You watched as he nervously toyed his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried searching his brain for something to say, but the effects of his drink and your sweet attention had him grasping for any type of clear thought.

But all of his attempts went completely out the window when you lowered your hips down and rocked them back against his, his head falling back against the sofa as his eyes rolled, a guttural moan rumbling from deep within his chest.

It was absolutely apparent that Paul's jeans were lacking the room they'd possessed a few minutes prior, and when you repeated the circular motion with your hips again, feeling him hard against your core, you were rewarded with another low growl from him.

"W-wait," Paul uttered weakly after a second, arms and fingers tightening at your hips to keep you from moving around and teasing him again, as much as he didn't want you to stop.

"I want this so much. I want you so much," he began, taking a beat to rake his eyes down your body as his tongue swiped against his own bottom lip. His gaze flitted back to your eyes, and he swallowed nervously.

"I don't want you to do this if you aren't, y'know..." you waited for him to finish his thought, and his round pink cheeks seemed to flush just a little more.

"If you're not okay with it."

You took a second to think on his argument. You and he were relatively fresh out of troubled relationships, and you both seemed to be hurting from the aftermath of said relationships...

But you were so lonely, too. And, to each other, you were simply beautiful, and respectful people, offering your... company... in a time of isolation for you both.

And it wasn't like there was any label for what you two were, either. All you and Paul needed was to feel wanted-- to feel loved.

And only if you could experience such a feeling for one more night in your life, Paul was offering now. And you were going to take it.

"I want this moment to last, Paul. If you're okay with making me feel wanted again, I am more than comfortable doing the same for you."

You could see him visibly relax when you said that, relief washing over his features as he reached a hand up to caress the back of your neck and bring you into a single, sweet kiss. You still couldn't get over how gentle and polite he was still being about all of this.

"We should really... go to my room," Paul suggested quietly after pulling a fraction of an inch away from the contact. You nodded your head, sighing "okay" as Paul closed the gap between you both just once more, only for a peck.

He let go of your hips and he reached for your hands instead, fingers intertwining slowly, and affectionately. You slid out of his lap, and Paul rose to his feet, guiding you without a hurry towards of the threshold of the den, where you stood to greet him unexpectedly just an hour or so before this moment.

The 45 on the record player had since finished playing the song, needle spinning needlessly in silence. Paul briefly resituated the player before continuing your journey one step at a time towards his bedroom, the heart in your chest beating erratically.

You climbed the stairs together, one dragging step at a time, and Paul led you around the corner of the hallway, pausing at the first room on the right. He glanced over at you, hand on the doorknob as he gave you another look. One that was asking a final, "are you sure?"

You placed your free hand over Paul's without a sound, and together you opened the door. He pulled you in for one more intimate embrace, lips on yours again before he pulled you into the dark room, gently kicking the door closed behind him.

And that night, you stayed with Paul. Hand-in-hand, bodies entwined, souls healing, loneliness fading away, and hopes of feeling whole again finally returning.

Being awake in the middle of the night had never been so gratifying.

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

A/A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! like I said, I can always whip up a part 2 regarding what happened behind those closed doors, so lmk if you're interested in that at all! Thanks for the support again and stay tuned for more works!

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[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

There is a voicemail on the answering machine when Steve gets home that night. It's from his Uncle Phillip, stumbling through a clumsy message about Chrissy's death, all while he can hear his Aunt Laura wailing in the background. He cuts the message off halfway, rewinding it for his parents to listen to when they return from wherever they've been. Whenever they return.

He picks up the phone, dials Gareth's number, and immediately hangs up before anyone can answer. This is a phone call that needs to wait. Even though all of Steve is itching to reach out to the family that still matters to him, he can't. He can't offer comfort or kind words or even offer to just be there. He's got the Upside Down to deal with first.

The Upside Down has returned and they don't have El and her powers. They don't have Hopper or Joyce. What they have is Steve. Steve is the only adult left in Hawkins that knows anything. It's his job to protect them all, somehow. Someway.

He's the adult.

Fuck. He can't think about this anymore tonight. He's so fucking tired. Instead of climbing the stairs to his room, he flops onto the couch in the living room, falling quickly into sleep plagued by nightmares.

Meanwhile, across town, Gareth has finally pried himself free of his mother's grip and slunk to his room. He flops on his bed and rolls to stare up at the ceiling.

He feels numb.

Chrissy is- she was- and in his best friend's house. And now Eddie is missing. What if whoever killed Chrissy kidnapped Eddie? Is something worse going to happen to Eddie?

And his mom and dad. They wouldn't say it to his face, but he can tell they blame Eddie. Maybe not blame, as in think he's the murderer, but certainly blame, in that, they think it's his fault Chrissy's dead. That whoever murdered Chrissy was really out to murder Eddie and Chrissy was an innocent bystander turned victim.

When his uncle called with the news it was unbelievable. His parents had seen the news, knew about the murder, but the police hadn't stated a name yet. He'd been asked so many questions, mostly about who Eddie knew that could have been over, but Gareth didn't have answers. Eddie hadn't mentioned anyone that was going to go to his house.

The police didn't take long actually identifying Chrissy, because they're reached out to next of kin and then Uncle Phillip had called, spoken to his dad and it's-

Well, it's all unbelievable. Hawkins has always been so dull and boring. Nothing happens here! Well, beyond that time the Byers kid went missing, then was dead but then not or whatever. And the fire at the brand-new mall but that was an accident, so even though a lot of people died, it was- it wasn't a murder.

Eddie is missing.

Chrissy is dead.

And Gareth is here, finally alone, in his room. His parents hadn't let him out of their sight since the phone call, and he can't really blame them. The death of someone in a family always makes his parents cling tighter to him but never before has the person who's passed been younger than his parents. He's been to the funeral for an uncle on his mom's side, which was her older brother, as well as for both his grandparents on his father's side.

Steve's side, he thinks. He knows Chrissy's dad called Steve's house, but his aunt and uncle probably aren't even in town. They barely were when Steve was a minor. Now that they can legally abandon him, they probably won't hear about Chrissy until Thanksgiving.

Jesus. Is Steve doing okay with the news? He knows he's got a best friend who stays more nights than not but are they there now, or is Steve alone?

Tears build in his eyes again as he thinks about when they were all younger, each just a year apart in school but all each other's first best friend. It used to be Steve, Chrissy, and himself against the world. Why had that changed?

Oh.

He knows. He changed it, heading into his freshman year. He told them he didn't want to hang out with them in high school.

And now Chrissy's dead and he realizes he no longer knows her -knew her- well enough to know why she'd be at Eddie's. Were they friend? Was Eddie her dealer? Did Chrissy even smoke weed? He knew she was dating Jason Carver but- was she also into Eddie? Chrissy had never seemed the kind of person to cheat, but what did Gareth actually know about her at the end of the day?

At the end of her life?

He rolls onto his side and sobs, curling into himself with all these unanswered questions running through his mind until he cries himself to sleep.

Steve has been awake for maybe ten minutes before Dustin is calling. The Upside Down waits for no man, so Steve finds himself picking up Dustin, Robin, and Max, and then they go to Cerebro to eavesdrop on the police.

Dustin talks him into handing his wallet over so he can run into the store and buy Eddie something for breakfast.

They deliver bad news to Eddie, follow a police car, meet up with Nancy, Robin and Nancy go to the library, he drives Max and Dustin first to Ms. Kelley's house, then the school. Once Robin and Nancy join them, Max fills them in on some depressing news before noises from the hallway draw their attention.

It turns out to be Lucas, here to warn about Jason.

Steve isn't meaning to eavesdrop when Lucas saddles up next to Dustin on the way to Steve's car and says, "Jason. He, uh, he went to Gareth's. Looking for Eddie. And he. Did you know Gareth and Chrissy Cunningham were cousins?"

Steve stumbles but if anyone noticed they don't call him on it.

Dustin says, "no. Oh, no. Don't tell me-"

"Yeah," Lucas confirms an unspoken question, "he's joined Jason's hunt for Eddie."

"Shit," Dustin and Steve say at the same time.

Unlike Steve, Gareth wakes late. It's almost noon before he drags himself from bed and to the bathroom.

A half hour later, he's clean and fed, and dialing Steve's number for the third time in a row, to get a third answering machine pickup.

"Answer the goddamn phone, Steve!" He snarls into the receiver this time, not having left messages the first two times. Just hung up and dialed again, then. "Have you heard about- I need you, so answer your fucking phone."

He slams the phone back into its cradle. His parents are still lost in their own fear and sorrow, because neither of them scold him for his language or the treatment of the phone.

He calls Jeff, and then Frankie, to cancel practice. They're worried but don't push when Gareth blames his mom. Then he spends another two hours trying to get a hold of Steve, and even Wayne a couple times, but no one answers.

He is surprised, and a little annoyed, when he mom comes to his room a bit later in the day to let him know he has guests at the door. He hauls himself from his bed, ready to tell the guys to fuck off, but when he steps outside to Chrissy's boyfriend instead of Jeff, the words die on his tongue.

Carver, some other guys from the basketball team, and Lucas Sinclair standing in the way back, are waiting for him on his lawn. Gareth closes the front door before slowly stepping off the porch. "Can I help you?"

"We're looking for Eddie. He here?" Carver asks.

"No."

Carver nods, hands shoved into his letterman lifting and dropping, like he was going to make a 'what can you do' gesture but forgot his hands were in his pockets. "Know where we can find him?"

They're looking for Eddie. This is -was- Chrissy's boyfriend. He probably knows the truth as much as Gareth does. And, he wants to know more. He's sure, judging by the tension in Carver's stance and how Lucas is shaking his head no behind them all, that Carver's probably convinced Eddie did it. So, if Gareth wants the truth, he needs to find Eddie, too. "You try Dustin Henderson's house?"

Carver looks surprised by the freely given information, and Lucas looks betrayed. "No. But we will. Thanks."

"I'm coming with."

Carver, who had turned away, turns back slowly. "You think so?"

"She's my cousin. Chrissy. So, yeah, I think I'm coming," Gareth hopes it's enough to get Carver to agree. If Eddie's innocent, Gareth wants to be there to help him. And if- if the fucking worst has happened and Eddie did it.

Well. He wants to be there to help with that, too.

[drewharrisonwriter]

On the Mend - Ch 2: Let Me Sleep On It

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: After seeing Joel Miller for the first time in months and revealing your little secret, Tommy Miller ran after you to the parking lot.

Word count: 1,972

A/N: I done did it, folks. Here is chapter 2 lol And it's lengthier, too but I'm still not sure what's gonna happen next or when this will end but hope you all like this chapter.

She hurriedly paid for her purchases and rushed to the parking lot. 

It had already been a long and arduous day in general. Seeing Joel Miller had been the last thing she needed. All she wanted was to go home and put this dreadful day behind her, and hopefully, never see Joel again.

But based on their last conversation, that wouldn't be a problem. 

She just wanted to avoid having to explain anything to him if it ever came to that. She didn't owe him an explanation; he had made it clear he never planned on marrying her or having a family with her. She understood that his priority was Sarah, and she loved Sarah deeply but she had left to give herself a fair chance in life, a chance to be a mother to her own child, and maybe one day, to find love and get married. 

At the moment, she was satisfied with the life she had been living since her breakup with Joel. It had been tough, especially going through the pregnancy alone, but she was doing alright, she thought to herself. She missed him, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on that because it only broke her heart, remembering that Joel had kept her for five years, only to tell her that their relationship was essentially a dead-end.

She fumbled for her car keys, her mind still reeling from the unexpected encounter with Joel. The wounds from their last confrontation were still fresh, and seeing him again had sent a shockwave through her emotions. But she did her best to calm herself down. It's going to be alright. She assured herself. You'll be home soon, and you can pretend that you never saw him. It's just one bad day. 

As she slid into the driver's seat and turned the ignition, she couldn't shake the image of Joel's stunned expression when he'd spotted her unmistakable baby bump. She didn't know whether it was anger, sadness, or some mix of emotions that clouded his eyes, but she knew one thing for sure: she saved herself from even more hurt by leaving him and not telling him about her baby. 

Just as she was about to pull out of the parking space, a familiar figure darted in front of her car, causing her to slam on the brakes. It was Tommy Miller, Joel's younger brother and one of her closest friends that she essentially ghosted along with Sarah when she left Joel. Tommy had always been the peacemaker (as much as he is a troublemaker, ironically), the one who tried to mend fences and bring people together.

She rolled down her window, and yelled, “Tommy what the fuck?!”  

“I’m sorry,” he laughed as he walked towards her. 

She sighed, her frustration evident. "Tommy, I'm really not in the mood for catching up right now. Can we do this another time?"

"Well, it's nice to see you too, stranger," Tommy began, his tone cool, accompanied by a friendly laugh. "I spotted you in the store, and I couldn't help but notice... Well, that you're expecting."

"Yeah, I am. What's it to you?" she snapped. Tommy let out an apologetic huff, and his expression turned serious as he glanced at her belly.

"I get it, you're going through a lot," Tommy said, "but I saw Joel's face back there. He looked shocked, confused, and probably a hundred other things. You can't just leave it like that."

She clenched her fists on the steering wheel, her emotions swirling. "Tommy, I don't owe him an explanation. I don't owe anyone an explanation."

Tommy nodded, his voice gentle. "I understand, but assuming the baby is Joel's, he would surely want to be a part of their life."

She sat there for a moment, torn between her instinct to protect herself and the undeniable truth in Tommy's words. Her gaze remained fixed on the steering wheel, her knuckles white from gripping it so tightly.

Finally, she let out a heavy sigh and turned to face him. "Tommy, I know you mean well, but you don't understand how painful things have been for me. Joel and I... we were never going to work out. We wanted completely different things in life. Now, I have what I want, my baby, and Joel can focus on giving Sarah a better life without me weighing him down."

Tommy reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder, his touch comforting. "I can't pretend to know how you feel, but I do know that this baby changes things. You have a right to make the best decision for yourself and your child. But consider this, not just for Joel, but for you too. Closure, even if it's painful, might be the first step toward healing."

She blinked back tears, and tried her best to keep her emotions at bay afraid of breaking down in the parking lot of the biggest grocery store in town in front of Tommy Miller. The day has already been rough enough. 

She finally smirked, cocking her head as she did. "Never thought I'd hear anything like that from you, Tommy." She joked and he laughed along with her. 

"I'll think about it." She said finally after a beat of silence.

Tommy gave her a reassuring smile. "That's all I ask. Whenever you're ready, just let me know. And... I never changed my number, so if you can please unblock me from your phone that would be great." They laugh a little again, "You can always call me if you need anything especially for the baby," 

She smiled at Tommy and thanked him before she drove off.

As she arrived home, she parked her car and took a moment to collect her thoughts. Despite Tommy's suggestion, she couldn't bring herself to even think of reaching out to Joel. After all, he made it clear that he never saw her beyond being a girlfriend. She's sure that Joel wouldn't even want anything to do with her and her baby, they can just continue living their own separate lives. 

But fate had other plans. 

A week later, there was an unexpected knock on her door. She grunted as she struggled to get off the couch. "Just a second!" She called out as she waddled towards the front door.

"I'm so sorry it's taking a while to--" She rambled but cut herself off when she saw Joel standing on her front porch with a black eye.

She blinked in surprise at the sight of Joel, her emotions a tangled mess of shock, confusion, and lingering anger. It had been months since they last spoke, and she hadn't expected to see him on her doorstep.

"What are you doing here, Joel?"

He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, darlin'," he mumbled, his tone subdued. "Can I come in for a moment?"

"I'm not really in the mood to talk to anybody, Joel," she replied. "Just... go home, or go to the ER or something."

"Please?" He pleaded, and she looked at him, unsure. Finally, and reluctantly, she stepped aside, allowing him entry. As he walked into her living room, she gestured for him to take a seat as she walked down the hall to the kitchen. He looked around as he sat on the couch and took in his surroundings. He smiled to himself as he saw the shelf of records and the countless books in her living room, and the familiar scent of santal and citrus lightly mixed with her perfume. It's all so warm and familiar.

She finally stepped back into the living room, breaking his moment of nostalgia as she handed him both a glass of water and whiskey. "I don't know what you want," she said blankly, and he took both glasses as he muttered a thanks.

"What happened to your face?"

Joel sighed, downing the glass of water before taking a sip of whiskey. "Tommy and I had a disagreement."

She raised an eyebrow, "You boys are always having a disagreement. What is it this time?" The Miller brothers, despite the fact that they'd kill for each other, can also be killing each other with petty arguments.

He hesitated for a moment, then finally met her gaze. "About you. He told me he talked to you and that I should know. I didn't take it well, and things got physical."

"Joel," she let out a sigh and buried her face in her hands. She felt a pang of guilt, realizing that Tommy had probably acted out of concern for both of them.

He nodded, his expression a mix of regret and understanding. "I know we left things on bad terms, and I've had time to think about it. I should've handled it differently, and I'm sorry."

She bit her lip, her heart aching as she looked at the man who had once been her everything. "Joel, I appreciate your apology, but we want different things in life... And now we have it. This isn't necessary."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't stop thinkin' 'bout you, you know. Ever since that moment at the grocery store and seein' you pregnant... I couldn't help but wonder if... well, I know it's mine. It has to be, right? I wanted so badly to go after you then, but I was too scared to talk to you," he confessed. She listened intently, sitting across from him, nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

Tommy told him about the parking lot conversation and that she had no intentions of ever telling Joel about the baby. He was so hurt, he got mad at Tommy instead for not telling him right away. It was rash, and he was sorry, but he wondered if he could be there for her, for the baby.

"Joel," she began, her tone firm but tinged with sadness, "I appreciate your offer, but I don't want anything from you. I don't want you derailing your plans for me or my baby. It was incredibly difficult to accept that our five-year relationship had no future, and the last thing I want is for you to feel obligated or guilty. I've got this on my own, Joel. This is what I want, and I understand it's not what you want. I can't drag you back into my life; it just wouldn't work."

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes downcast as he processed her words. He knew he had hurt her deeply, and the weight of his actions over the past months was now crashing down on him. He couldn't let this end here, not without trying to make amends.

"Please," he began, his voice shaky. He's on his knees now, kneeling in front of her. "I can't change the past, and I can't take back the hurtful things I said. But please, just hear me out. I've had so much time to think, and I realize how wrong I was. I was scared, and I ran away from my responsibilities, from you. I was a fool, and I'm just so sorry, darlin'."

He reached out, hesitantly placing a hand on her arm, seeking any sign of forgiveness in her eyes. "I don't expect you to welcome me back with open arms, but I want to be there for you and the baby. I'll do whatever it takes to make amends, to earn your trust again."

She met his gaze, her expression softening as she looked into his remorseful eyes. The wounds were still fresh, but she couldn't deny that a part of her had missed him terribly. 

"Joel, I need time," she replied, her voice gentler now. "I can't make any promises right now."

Joel nodded, grateful for even a sliver of hope. "Thank you. That's all I ask for."

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[indigos-stardust]

Violet and Blue Bruises: Bitterness (aka the lead up to their fight)

Part 1 / Part 2 /part 3/ part 4(click to open the links)

Blue has issues. He knows that he does. He knew he could come off as a jerk. Blue is from the protective and defensive side of Link. The part who flared up his ego and rebutted against his dad to protect vulnerable insecurity filled storm inside. The part that decided if anyone was gonna mess with Zelda, that he'd be the one to deal with 'em. And the rage, the type you get when you try to explain and you try your best but everyone assumes the worst of you. *cough autistic cough*

Red was the one that stopped the worst of it though. Humbled him, really. Blue was stupid and brash and shoved everything in him telling him he had to go back and kept going. Until he got frozen anyways. He spent a long time like that, utterly helpless and realizing all his regrets in the magical ice. Red saved him, with his cheeky mischievous little grin. He'd protect that. Even if Red would occasionally joke that the incident was "what cooled him down" he figured that just made them even.

Then the temple happened. Where he and Red were alone, they were tricked by the darkness to believe that Green and Vio were dead. Where Red lost all hope. And Blue was the one to keep him going, even if it was just for themselves, because they were still alive. He very "lovingly" snapped Red into reality. Red might still have nightmares about Blue being swallowed alive.

So yeah, Blue, if there's one thing he's doing right, its protecting his family! Even if he kinda has to look like the angry stupid problematic bad unwanted one sometimes. And well, okay maybe he is still bad at expressing his emotions and definitely blows up sometimes-

(He doesn't hit anymore though... he hates that he ever did but its so hard to stop it he just can't he tries so hard and-)

But Red and Blue support each other. Blue keeps Red from letting his kindness hurt him (AKA being too kind with second chances and gullible, and taking every single bit of criticism and judgment of strangers to heart) while Red helps Blue learn nuance in conversations, how to express his feelings in a way that doesn't sounds accusatory, and even how to be a bit more vulnerable. It's good. They work well together.

Red's a teaser and and sweetheart and the strongest person Blue's ever known.

Green's great. Sure, he was kinda annoyed at him at first but you know what? Green actually is a lot better at leading them than Blue would've ever been. He's honestly glad, he'd take the quiet protector role over "leader of the rainbow circus" anyday. Sure the dudes actually come out to be a little weird- Okay, "passionate" he can use nice words! He challenges Blue! Descretely punches him to shut him up, (its their love language.) Makes the most heinous dad jokes and puns he'd ever heard. Their dad loves them. They knit together, its cool. They're cool.

But then there's the nerd. Vio.

He doesn't know what's up with that guy! "oH bUt YU UsEd To Be ThE sAmE pErsOn" Yeah no. That guy is a little freaky???

He always acts like he's SO PERFECT, just being sarcastic and reading and getting ON HIS NERVES ALL THE TIME?! His stupid sly comments always make his blood boil. He'd never admit how much they got under his skin. The smug bastard's "logic" didn't even make sense.

Vio did a bunch of stupid idiotic heart attacking including crap on their adventure and he's supposed to be the smart one?! He's terrible at any organization and cleanliness TOO. He just knows Vio does it on purpose to rile him up and get him mad too! He keeps poking and prodding and making all those stupid little digs all the time and when Blue blows up he's the one who gets in trouble every time! He acts so condescending afterwards too!

Then. The worst thing of all?His ROOM. It's Blue's actual worst nightmare. He can't even look, the glimpses of the ink puddle, the papers and trash, the mugs and mugs of filthy drying teas and thrown laundry wrinkling in the corner with shelves of dust and- uengh-

Everything about them clashes. Their logic, their perspectives. Their fighting styles even. Maybe even worse than his room though, is when Vio is Right. Vio is just-

He's warmed up to the weird little nerd. He sees how Vio's joked with the others and always had a soft spot to Red, letting Red's overwhelming presence be excused in his space. You cna't be that bad of a person if you have a soft spot for Red.

But still... he's so cold. And confusing. Sorta like the Ice. But then... Over time? During the rebuilding of Hyrule he became... colder and colder. More a douche. The sarcasm starts to cut deeper. Less and less warm. Unforgiving and solid. Pragmatic. Distant.

Vio starts snapping back at him. He starts snapping back harder. Joking rude banter becomes petty arguments and disagreements full of blame. Resentment, dripping down into a dam that threatens to break. Drip by drip. Those arguments never get resolved either, there is no flow and tide of in and out. Just more and more until the damn bursts.

Green tried to get them to "understand each other."

It went just about as well as the monster hunting mission that ended up with them stranded for nearly a week. They found them covered in mud and glaring daggers into the other. Sure, it hadn't necessarily escalated, but it only drove them further apart no matter how hard Green tried to push them together.

Blue doesn't know what Red sees in Vio. Red's so sensitive to fights, so he tries to keep as much as the bitterness away from him as possible.

Blue doesn't realize that Vio seems him in a very similar light. They encounter an issue, they try to solve it their ways, it backfires and it gets worse. That's their pathetic tango. And then at home its just petty spat over petty spat about chores and the others intelligence or abilities.

Then it escalates.

[dsireland86]

Take Me First PT. 2 (Never Know)

(Prequel for Noah in The Things We Could Never Change)

"Lying Is Hard But The Truth Comes Out Anyway" The Grey

A regretful mistake, a car accident, and a baby. God didn't listen to Noah when he begged him to take him first the night of the accident. God had other plans it seemed; plans that brought Noah down to his knees cursing, crying, and praying. In time he began to believe he was nothing but a lost soul trying to find his happiness in the ugly world he lived in, until... she found him and began to return the lost parts of him, piece by piece, he'd thought he'd lost forever.

TAGS: @lma1986, @myownthoughts12, @xslavicprincess, @foliosgirl, @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon, @jilliemiw86, @sthnog, @lookwhatitcost

 “Show me you're better off without me/ Choking on every word you said, we'll see, we'll see / Don't breathe another word about me I'll leave and you can finally rest in peace, we'll see” -NEVER KNOW-

Noah,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. You have to understand that it's better for both of us this way if I just vanish from your life and wipe your slate, your consciousness completely clean. Once you're finished with this letter, I guarantee you will hate me and loath just the thought of me. My name will become a bitter poison on your tongue and the tongues of those who will no longer be my family because of their loyalty to you. You'll never want to breathe my name, let alone any other words about me, to anyone. I'm warning you now, Noah, what I'm about to tell you is going to ruin you. It's going to break your heart so badly that you're probably going to wish you were dead. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you, but it's the only way. You have to know the truth about what happened during those three days in Montana on that last tour we were on together; you deserve to know because it was the moment that everything changed for us. You're better off without me, and in time, you'll see. In time, you'll be able to rest in peace. 

Noah:

“I didn't want to finish the letter. Knowing she was already gone was enough, and reading it, having it spelled out in front of me would’ve only made things worse. But I chose to finish it anyway but regretted the instant I did. I swear I could feel myself slowly slipping away as her words started to bring out the worst in her that I never knew existed."

I rested my forehead against the back of her shoulder.

“I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you were feeling. Being abandoned is hard, but the lonely place it takes you to is worse.” “You would know, wouldn't you,” I said while playing with her fingers. She leaned back against my chest while sitting between my legs. Turning her head at just the right angle, she glided the tip of her nose softly along my jawline that filled with a deep yearning to be inside her again. “Not the same way you do.” I shivered when her lips left a trail of soft kisses on my skin. “Read me more, please. I want to know everything,” she urged. I sighed, and even though I really didn't want to, I knew sharing this part of my life was important for us. So, I continued.

“Lying in between the memories choking me, and I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never know” -NEVER KNOW-

The night you told me the truth about cheating on me, it broke me, but not in the way you might think. I was angry, full of guilt, relief, sorrow, and regret that created a huge mess of emotions I didn’t know how to deal with. Running was my only option. I had to escape the pain of knowing how horribly I'd hurt you and you didn't even know it. Noah, you were brave enough to be honest with me about what you did. You admitted your guilt and how ashamed it made you feel. You truly believed you'd hurt me and watching the way it tore your mind and heart apart left me in agony. I wanted to tell you the truth then, but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I took the coward's way out and ran away. 

I called Jolly and cried to him. He couldn't understand anything I was saying, let alone any idea of what I was talking about, but he did his best to console me anyway. The guilt I felt, knowing what I’d done to his best friend just made everything numb and blur together. The way I was driving I didn’t see the headlights of the other vehicle in my lane. Jolly was still on the phone when I screamed right as the collision happened. That was the last thing I remembered before I woke up in the hospital. So, what is the truth that was too hard for me to tell you even though I was given the chance to say many times? Noah, I hope you're sitting down because what I'm about to say is going to be the death of whatever peace your mind had about me.

Noah:

“Noah?” Her soft voice calling to me made me lower my head and when her hand collided with my cheek, her touch brought me back to reality. The past wasn't real, but she was, and so was the feeling of her naked body against mine. Turning herself around so that her legs were on either side of me and her arms were resting on my shoulders, she leaned in and kissed me, slipping her tongue inside my mouth little by little. She was making me so hard and I knew she could feel me between her legs, pressed tightly against that sweet soft spot of hers I loved so much. I couldn’t control the constant twitching that was happening each time she purposely pushed herself into me either.

"She knew exactly what she was doing to you, and that’s what hurt you the most. I'm sorry she hurt you,” her voice whispered in my ear before she took a little bit of it in her mouth. “Ughh, fuck baby,” I moaned, squeezing her hips tighter and tugging her closer to me. “That’s what happens,” she said, brushing her breast up against me, her perky nipples grazing across my skin, making it scream. “You let people in and they destroy you. But I won’t.” She sat back and looked at me, the look in her eyes nearly making me cum. She had me wound up so tight that I swallowed hard when she pushed herself into me again and her warm, shaky breath washed over my face. “You deserve so much more than you believe you do, Noah.” Slipping her hands beneath the waistband of my box-briefs, I lifted my bottom up and she slid them down my legs, tossing them aside, retaking her spot over me. “I’ll give you the world, if you want it,” she admitted, laying her mouth on mine and taking my lips to hers as if she owned them; she did. “The moon, the fucking stars. Anything you ask, it’s yours. I’m yours. You can have all of me,” she confessed through a shaky, tear filled voice.

I pulled her way to look at her and my heart felt like it had busted through my chest. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, but the prettiest smile on her lips. I sat up and kissed her tears away tasting their saltiness. “I want all of it,” I admitted, brushing some hair out of her face. “I want all of you, but not just what you let the world see. I want all the broken, busted up parts too; the parts that make you, you. I meant it when I said I would fight the battle for you. I would, I still will. If I have you, then you have all of me too.” She started to cry and I pulled her into me as she laid her head on my shoulder. I fucking loved this girl in my arms more than I ever thought possible. More than the girl in the letter, and that scared me.

After a few moments of silence had passed and I was about to continue reading, but the warmth from her hand found my hard cock. Slowly she  ran her hand down my shaft, then back up, the grip she had applying the perfect pressure needed to stimulate what I was dying for on the inside. I laid my head back against the couch, zoning into nothing but the feeling of what her hand was doing. The faster she went the harder her grip became and reminded me of what being inside her felt like; heaven. I found her entrance between her wet folds and quietly slipped a finger inside her warm sex enjoying the way she melted into my touch and sucked in a quick breath, followed by a beautifully moan that filled the room. I felt her wetness coat my fingers, making me feel like I had all the power over her I wanted. The truth was though, she was the one with all the power. “I need to be inside you, now.” I ordered. She didn't hesitate to obey but instead shifted enough so that her pussy was aligned perfectly with my hard length.

“Noah, look at me,” she commanded and I listened. Her eyes were vibrant and full of something indescribable, something that I could never put into words; but I felt it and I knew she did too. “I fucking love you.” It slipped out before I could stop myself and I was scared I crossed a line. But her smile took that feeling away. It was genuine, and made me feel the exact way, if not more, I felt when I first saw her. “I love you too; all of you.” She pushed into me and took all of me into her and I watched her expression change as soon as I filled her. Her tight, wet walls closed in on my throbbing cock now buried deep inside her, searching for that special spot that was going to pull all the pretty cries and moans from her that I loved to hear. I gripped her hips, sighing once she began to move slowly, with her hands placed firmly on my chest. But I wanted more and I knew she did too. “I want you to grind on me, baby, ride me till you're satisfied. Ride me till you cum.”

That seemed to be all she needed. Soon I had her crying and moaning so loudly that she dug her nails deep into my skin, squeezed me tighter with her thighs, and let my name fall from her lips like a sacred prayer. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She pulled my hands to her small breasts, indicating to me she wanted stimulation and I all too willing obliged her. I took each nipple between my finger and thumb, squeezing them until she cried. Once hard and perky, I dragged my tongue lazily over the soft, delicate skin, circling and lapping every part until taking it in my mouth. Her moans pulled my organism closer and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Luckily, I didn't have too. Her hands found the back of my head, holding me in place while she fucked me slow and gently and I got her off by sucking my favorite parts of her. “Noah, baby,” she didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to. I looked up, grinning at the face I saw. With eyes closed, she was in perfect ecstasy. “Are you gonna cum for me, Princess.” She didn't say anything, just moaned and nodded. “Cum for me then baby, let it go and give us both what we want.”

Her lips crashed into mine and our tongues danced as she came undone all over me and I quickly followed. It wasn't loud, it wasn't messy; it was just us, falling apart for one another together quietly. It was love making in its purest form and in that moment with her I realized the difference between straight fucking with foreplay and making love and how they were very different. We weren’t each other's first. She had a fucked up ex and I had many experiences that left me feeling used. But what she and I had just shared had so many emotions involved, ones that I didn't even know I could feel anymore. She pulled them out of me somehow and allowed me to willingly feel what I had buried away. They were tangled together, knotted and rooted in the dirt of my past. But, thanks to the beautiful human in my arms, for the first time in my life I felt the difference and wasn't afraid to feel them. She made me feel so fucking alive and I loved it. 

“Speaking in languages we can’t read, no need for you to spell it out for me/ Swallowed up and I’ spit you out, like a drug that just wouldn’t stay down" -NEVER KNOW-

Montana was beautiful, Noah, and the idea of visiting it with you was a dream come true. I'll never forget when you came home and told me that it was on the list of states the band was playing. Your excitement was contagious and the way your eyes sparkled and lit up your entire face will forever haunt me. It was one of the last times we were truly happy together. Those three days haunt me, Noah. They hold the worst, but also the best memories. So here it goes… the whole truth.

The first show day went smoothly; you remember I'm sure. We all went out and had a small celebration in that little country bar where Folio rode the mechanical bull until he bled… like seriously bled. I thought I was going to pass out seeing all the blood from his arm. The day of the second show, however, was utter chaos and hell. Everyone woke up late, the venue wasn't unlocked when we got there, and some of the equipment malfunctioned. You were miserable and because you were miserable, so was everyone else. I tried to help, but now know how worse I actually made it for you. And the moment you yelled at me in front of not just the crew but the guys too, I knew things were going to be different between us. It wasn't that you yelled at me, Noah, it was what you said that was the slap to my face. You accused me of being selfish and too self conceited to understand what you were going through, and you know what? You were right. I was, I am those things. And to prove I was, I decided to get back at you in my own way; the way I regret now more than anything. 

After storming out of the venue and turning my phone off, I found a bar away from the venue, away from every memory of you. I wanted you out of my head, but mostly out of my heart because I was hurting. So, the first guy who sat down next to me and bought me a few rounds was it. He was the one I chose to make my biggest mistake with. He took me back to his hotel room, which ironically was in the same hotel as ours, you were just one floor above me. I was too drunk to worry about anything, not even caring if the receptionist recognized me. 

Noah, I will save you the details of what I did with that man in that hotel room that night. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be, and in the end he left me hurting way more than when I started out. Not just emotionally, but physically too. Thankfully there were no marks on my body, yet, but the bruises would show the following day. I lied and said you did them to me and the look on your face was devastating. I felt like a piece of shit. Maybe I was. No, I know I was. I should burn in hell for what I did to you; what I said to you. You didn't deserve it. But the worst was yet to come when the events of the night you fucked some girl who wasn't me happened and you found out I was pregnant. Nicholas said at first you were too shocked, but when it was time for me to leave the hospital, Matt said it was all you could talk about; how you were going to be a dad and how you had so much faith that the baby would be the thing to tie us back together after your actions ruined us. It wasn't you who ruined us, Noah, it was me, but I couldn't tell you that. Not now. Not with a baby on the way. So, I kept my silence and avoided you as much as I could, using your cheating as the excuse. And I lied to you every day up until… well you know when. 

Losing the baby was never, ever the intention, that, I promise, you can believe. I never wanted any harm to come to my baby. But when I woke up last month at seventeen weeks pregnant in a pool of blood, I knew it was over. The lies could stop, the truth could come out and everything would be okay. Except it wasn't, was it? Losing the baby was too hard for you. It made you do things you regret doing and I regret watching, knowing I had the power to stop it all. I know the feeling of loss is still very raw in your heart. You're wounded and reading this letter, knowing I'm long gone, soon to be nothing but a distant memory you'd do anything to forget, is going to throw salt on that wound, but I think it's time for me to help you put your demons to rest. 

Noah, the baby…. the baby was never yours to begin with. I mean, honestly, think back to the first time we had sex after that fight. Think…. and you'll remember. If you don't let me help. You wore a condom, Noah and you filled it, but I lied to you and told you it broke because I was scared. The night I spitefully killed us in every way possible was the night I conceived another man's child. 

So, you see, none of it was your fault after all. It was mine all along. Did I feel guilt? Yes. Remorse? No. Not until now. Now that I’m walking away from you, I feel every bit of remorse possible, but it’s too late now, isn’t it. The you I knew and loved is gone and so is the girl you knew. And that’s the difference between us, Noah. You felt remorse and it made you so vulnerable. 

I hope the next girl you fall in love with is good to you. I hope she is never afraid of your darkness or the demons who dance in your eyes sometimes. I remember the time when you thought no one could ever love you if you revealed what lurks inside you. You’ve always been different, Noah, you know that and how could anyone understand that? But I hope she understands and is never afraid to follow you into your darkness so that she can learn to love the beast that’s inside. I tried to, but in the end I realized that sometimes, true love comes in the form of a loving demon, or a protective monster, or even a dark angel who sits and waits patiently for you to arrive. You are all those things Noah; and I hated you for it. I’m sorry I hated you, because now I know that you were the only one to ever, truly love me. 

With All My Love, Always, Sarah

Noah:

I woke up, flat on my back, head off the pillow, but the blanket over top of me. As my vision cleared, Sophie was nowhere to be seen. My heart started pounding, thinking maybe she regretted last night; the things we did, the things I said. Was it all too much and she felt pressured or overwhelmed? I started to panic, running my hands over my face, trying to convince myself everything was okay, but it didn't help. I sat up, looking around for my shirt only to remember that I'd used it on Sophie, making me remember the corner I threw it in; it was still there.

I needed to find Sophie and make sure everything was good between us, especially now that she knew the truth about me and Sarah. I needed to know if she was still willing to commit herself to me, to us, with this kind of baggage attached, but first I needed a shower. My stomach suddenly hurt, the anxiety nipping away on the inside and it felt like there was a giant hole in me. I needed to fill that hole. I need my girl.

Chapter 1: The Things We Could Never Change

[the-whispers-of-death]

The Middle: Ghost's Shadow

The Beginning, Part 1 of The Middle, Part 2 of The Middle, Part 3 of The Middle The only warning here is that there's canon-typical violence. Also, there’s a time skip.

**

It took years for Ghost to heal from Roba, but that was to be expected. That didn't stop you from being relieved when he slowly but surely regained his humor, making you chuckle and groan at the cheesy dad jokes he'd tell his fellow soldiers.

He eventually made it into a task force called Task Force 141 and he seemed to finally be thriving with them. He was letting them in, creating a new family after his old one died.

And you were still there too, always hiding in the shadows. Ghost would be up on a rooftop, using his sniper skills to shoot down enemies on missions, and he'd see you. Only he could see you, see your form shifting into whatever mortal form a dead enemy soldier would be more comfortable with as you helped guide them to their afterlives. It was a sense of comfort for him, to see past all the blood being shed and see you in the middle of it all.

Your mortal form was never constant as you moved through the falling bodies and fighting soldiers like the shadows that always encased you. If someone preferred to see a masculine form, then you looked masculine. Someone wanted to see a feminine form? You looked feminine. You even looked androgynous if a dead soul didn't have any preference.

Despite Ghost being the only one who saw you, his fellow soldiers were always quick to joke about how they could see the shadows move slightly whenever he was around. How they said amongst themselves that Ghost had a shadow following around him.

And to them it seemed plausible because when they'd find Ghost standing outside the base all alone, looking out in the distance, they could see his hand reached behind him like he was holding a hand of someone who was invisible. They'd walk past his barracks only to hear him talking softly inside and they'd expect someone to walk out with him but they could see the barracks were empty when he left.

One day you were talking about the stories they made up about Ghost, how they said Ghost could control the shadows.

You were cuddled up against his chest as you two laid in his bed, your mortal form whatever it had been when you had last taken a soul to an afterlife. Ghost was running his fingers up and down your back gently, his chin resting on top of your head.

"Well, they wouldn't be curious about my so-called oddities if you would take on a permanent mortal form when visiting me," he teased, his black balaclava and white skull mask off so you could see the way the corner of his lips turned upwards into a smirk, able to see all of his scars.

You had missed the light in his eyes during the previous years. And it was almost fully back now.

You rolled your eyes, huffing at his response. Even after so many years, he was still trying to get you to take on a permanent mortal form, join him on the mortal realm to live a mortal life.

"While I'm glad you managed to still do your job as Life while being a mortal, Ghost, I don't think it would be that simple for me," you replied, looking up at him from where your head was resting on his chest.

Ghost moved his other hand from where it was holding your hip and he ran his fingers through your hair. "Come on, you can't deny that it'd be easier for us to cuddle if you took a permanent mortal form, Death. I'm sure you could become like a medical examiner and still be able to do your duties as Death."

You sat up, making him withdraw his hands from your hair and back. "I don't know, Ghost.... I just can't see myself being completely in the mortal realm," you said, your voice soft.

"Why not? You already don't go back to our home realm much unless it's to sleep." Ghost sat up as well, your close proximity making it easy for your two power signatures to reach out to each other and intertwine like always. "Think about it, Death. I could create an adult mortal body for you so you wouldn't have to spend an entire childhood before we could meet again. Any type of mortal body, I could create it for you."

One of his hand ran up the side of your arm.

"Any gender you wanted."

Another swipe of his hand up your arm, giving you goosebumps.

"Any skin color you wanted."

His voice was closer to your ear than before, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Any body type you wanted."

His other hand swiped up your other arm but instead of caressing it up and down like his first hand was, it cupped your cheek. His touch was so gentle, but this form... It wasn't necessarily yours.

"You could finally have whatever form you wanted. Present yourself however you want, no longer changing yourself to be what everyone else wants you to look like. Don't you want that? To know that my hands are touching a body that's completely yours?"

And you did want that. Having no permanent form made it easier for you to change into whatever type of person a dead soul would better react to, since they were so raw from dying, but it was exhausting. Years of watching Ghost interact with everyone in the mortal realm made you yearn to be mortal too, but you had been pushing it down.

Ghost could see the answer on your face and he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. "Your kindness beneath that gloomy, withdrawn demeanor you have is one of the reasons why I enjoy your presence, but you're too selfless. Every other being has presented themselves to each other in a way they wanted. You don't always have to be changing forms."

You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. "Okay, as long as I'll be able to visit you after you create my mortal form so my spirit can settle inside it."

"We'll have to make sure that your mortal job will be something that'll allow you to come and go from the base then. Don't worry, you'll love it."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[hopelessrromantix]

Part 2 to this

Miguel had first met you a very long time ago.

By then, he was Spiderman, seeking out one of your partners they'd gone slightly rogue.

The only thing he hadn't realized then, was that your project had affected you too, creating a symbiote that attached itself to you.

After many encounters in and out of your suits, you and Miguel got along surprisingly well.

Until you'd sacrificed yourself for him. Sure he was alive, but he always regretted not knowing you better.

And when he found a universe where he was happy, he got to see your face again.

An alternate version of yourselves had gotten both your powers under control. You started a family, adopted a daughter, and settled down to have a normal life.

Until he replaced his dead self.

At first it was… nice.

Not just being with his daughter, but you too.

He regretted not knowing you even more after that. His life picked up where his alternate self had left off.

And when everything came crashing down, you let him carry your daughter. He could see the mix of pain and shock in your eyes as you faded away, breaking apart into nothing.

Soon, Miguel was alone again.

And now, in an alternate world, you were Spiderman. He should've expected it, really.

"You should leave, Y/n." Lyla imitated, puffing up her chest and placing her hands on her hip. Miguel didn't expect her glare to be so effective.

He only rolled his eyes, walking back toward his computer.

"See, that's my impression of you saying something dumb." Miguel stayed quiet, swiping through data he'd left open, organizing his space. "You didn't even answer when he asked if you knew him. What's going on with you? We both know you wanted to talk to him."

Miguel's eyes narrowed. "It's not that simple. I'm dead in his world and he's dead in mine, we can't go rewriting history and destroying Y/n's Canon."

"Oh please," She scoffed. "Forget the 'High and Mighty' schtick, trying experiencing emotion for, like, two seconds and talk to him."

Miguel whipped his head toward her, but she had already disappeared, probably anticipating his argument.

He let out a heavy sigh into the stagnant air. He missed you more than he wanted to admit, even if he never got to know you nearly as well as he wanted.

For days, Miguel attempted to process the conversation.

You hadn't come to find him since he'd told you to leave days before, but he'd seen you around. You usually blended into the crowd right after, making him feel slightly guilty about telling you to leave.

He just brushed it off, going back to his work.

You, on the other hand, had no such plans.

Miguel was stubborn as an ox, but you weren't about to give up just because he asked you to leave.

If there was any hope he'd hear you out, you'd be willing to take the risk.

"What are you doing here?"

A question you expected to get. It was so much harder to answer when he was staring at you.

"Any chance we could talk?" You asked, half expecting him to close the door right there.

To your surprise, he stepped back, leading you into his (oddly dark) workspace.

"Let me j-"

"I wanted t-"

You both froze, hearing the other speak. You chuckled, gesturing to him.

He sighed, taking a breath. "I wanted to apologize."

"You did?" You blinked at him. Apologies weren't Miguel's thing (unless you made it clear you expected one)... maybe he was more different than you thought.

Miguel's expression was stiff, his mind still focused on you. "When you were alive, I didn't know you as well as I wanted to."

He watched your face shift, first in confusion, then in understanding.

You didn't need to hear it all right now. Or maybe he just wasn't ready to tell you.

But either way… "I'd like to get to know you now."

"Yeah! Yeah, I'd like that too." You agreed, nodding your head before remembering why you'd come in the first place. "I'm sorry for springing everything on you. I mean, it's a lot all at once… I didn't mean to force you to talk to me."

He nodded slowly. "You didn't. I… I want to do this."

"You do?" You asked again. Whether to be certain or just to hear him say it again, you didn't know.

"Yes."

And you felt truly, unashamedly happy for the first time in far too long.

[petrifiedperi-au]

Holy ok ok ok so I just read your dev having trouble with being around Cosmo and Wanda but I bring you a different approach. What if he is mad at them! Trying to shift some of this huge amount of guilt because at least he went to Peri! His own parents left him alone to die. (I can’t remember if you said if they actually knew where he was or not)

Oh lordy oh ok gewze imagine Dev having this moment of realising he has something in common with Peri because he sees his parents as neglecting him. How sad would that make Dev? To realise how much guff he gave Peri cause he thought Peri couldnt relate at all. So he pushed him away but then thinking how wrong he was and how Peri did understand. (Even though we know cosmo and wanda are nothing like Dale and really did love Peri just saw a different priority) but the potent agnst of Dev having a miss understanding of it. Everytime Peri tries to deny it Dev relates. Everytime Cosmo and Wanda gush over Peri makes Dev fume because he sees it as all a show. He thinks he knows how it is behind closed doors. Even if hes actually wrong. It could really help them bond. Until Dev finally sees hes wrong and it’s gonna make a huge rift between them as he blames Peri for pretending to have a bad relationship with his parents. Probably saying it was to “mock” Dev or something.

On another note. Do you think Peri would actually be upset that his parents decided to save fairyworld instead? Maybe rationally he tells himself it was the better choice. That it was what ended up bringing him back. It was what saved all the other fairies who take priority. Hes just one guy. But thats still gonna hurt. Knowing your own parents can and have picked the masses over you. Knowing you arent worth the world to them. Of course he wouldnt actually expect them to choose him but maybe deep down he wanted them to? Idk im loosing it cause I just got off ruff 12hr shift at work lol.

Hope this isnt too off the money for your au I just really enjoy angst

~hollys fairy hell

[AU info here!]

OOOOHHH... THIS IS INTERESTING. WHILE C&W DIDN'T KNOW THAT PERI DIED, DEV BEING ANGRY BECAUSE OF THAT IS... OUGH. I think it DOES check out, actually. Feeling angry that they didn't even KNOW their son died, the blame being shifted to help ease the guilt... IT MAKES SENSE, AND IT'S IN CHARACTER.

He's seen their relationship before, and he knows that they're all such a genuinely happy family, and that makes him feel not ONLY GUILTIER, but MORE FRUSTRATED, MORE ANGRY. Their own son DIED, in front of HIM, and they DON'T EVEN KNOW.

HEAR ME OUT... DEV NOT KNOWING THAT C&W DON'T KNOW UNTIL PERI MENTIONS IT. Him assuming that they ALREADY told their parents, and that's why he was absent for a few days. THE GUILT SHIFTING INTO A MISDIRECTED ANGER ONCE PERI MENTIONS THAT THEY DON'T KNOW AND THAT THEY WANT TO KEEP IT FROM THEM... of COURSE, the guilt is still there, but it blends in with the other feelings and it's a Very Complicated Feeling Soup.

THE MISUNDERSTANDING IDEA IS NEAT... AND IN-CHARACTER. I don't know for SURE how I'd implement it [because my brain is very picky about the things I add, and I am too...], make it go, and ALL those good, delicious, juicy things, BUT BUT it will go on the backburner of thoughts. Specifics would probably just come to me randomly at 2 am like they have been lately gHDLSHSLHD 😭

WITH THE LAST PART... PERI DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED SPECIFICALLY. He was DEAD, after all, and SURE, he'd probably find out via things being talked about, BUT, GENERALLY, I DON'T THINK THEY ADDRESS OR THINK ABOUT THOSE THINGS.

Hazel's Wish fixed EVERYTHING that happened in the episode, and I talk about how the whole Millio Wishes Thing worked here, actually! I have a vague idea of how things go with Peri after they come back, but I don't have any set in stone ideas yet/there's no established timeline. I think... THEY don't even know at first, they're just confused at the fuzzy gaps in their memory and then, once they get a closer look at themself and the GHOST thing happens [when they're alone] and all that... THEN they put details together and realize they They Fucking Died.

WHICH... PERI DOESN'T UNPACK THAT. NOT MUCH, ANYWAY. The finale ends as usual, with the motorcycles and all that— that's BEFORE he realizes there might be something off. DO YOU GET ME... LIKE...

THE ENDING ESTABLISHES THAT THINGS ARE OK AND NORMAL BUT THEN AFTER THE EPISODE, THEY GO BACK TO THEIR HOUSE/ROOM/C&W'S HOUSE [ALONE] AND THEN THAT IS WHEN HE KIND OF REALIZES HE FEELS OFF AND WEIRD. AND... OUGH. YEAH.

SORRY I'M... GETTING OFF TRACK. I don't think he'd be upset, not in that way, at least, given the circumstances. I DON'T KNOW IF THIS MAKES SENSE OR IF IT'S JUST WORD SOUP I'M SO SORRY I JUST WOKE UP LIKE AN HOUR AGO. I am throwing words at the wall and hoping they make sense HDJDDGKDDUI 😭

[akwolfgrl]

Can't just love me in pieces gotta love it all

Day 2 laughter/tears

@oprarepairweek

Law sat leaning against the Sunnys mast, his hat pulled down as he observed the blonde cook of the starwhats. Blackleg-ya had at first reminded him far to much Cora, the hair, the cigarettes, the hearts that followed him when he spoke and twirled around a woman. That was where the similarities ended, where Cora had been clumsy and accident prone, Blackleg-ya acted as if he was born upon the sea. His moves were graceful and fluid even when fighting. Almost as if he was dancing.

The blonde cook was kind. He hid it behind his shouts and swears, but Law had seen him. Had seen how attentive to everyone's needs he was, he only made a show of it to the women aboard. It was a shield to protect himself.

The silly wanted posters really didn't do the man justice. He was beautiful. He watched as the man tipped his head back and laughed, his golden hair catching in the sun, a glowing halo around his head. Eyes crinkled in the corners, his mouth wide and happy. He wanted to hear his laughter and wanted to be the reason for his smile. Law felt his heart skip a beat.

“Shit,” Law had fallen in love, he was fucked.

This was not a part of his plans, he may have asked for this alliance but when it was over they would be enemies both after the same thing…that is what it would be if he by some miracle made it out alive.

<>

Sanji watched Law stick his Ōdachi into the ground as he snuck to his knees, the sword being the only thing holding him up at this point.

They had managed to defeat Blackbeard. Avenging Ace and the Heart Pirates. Sanji sat next to the man he had fallen in love with. Something he never thought he'd do, the only other man he was in love with was Luffy, but the whole crew loved their captain with everything they were, so it didn't really count. You couldn't help it.

Law sobbed, his tears wetting the ground beneath him. Law was finally free to mourn his crew, his friends, and his family. Sanji rubbed the man's back. He wasn't alone. After what felt like hours, the black haired man's tears ran dry and slumped against Sanji shulder. He wiped the man's wet checks with his sleeve, Law looked tired, as if he just wanted to sleep forever.

“What now? What do I do now? I've always had a goal in mind, defeating Doflamingo, justice for Cora, freeing Wano taking down Kadio. Just as I found a new goal, Blackbeard destroyed everything! Yet now he's been taken care of, Bepo and I joined your crew, now I'm left without a puporpes,”

“You have time Law, just being around Luffy I know you'll find it eventually, he's good at that sorta thing,” Sanji brushed his hand against Law black locks, this was probably as close as they would ever get. He would take whatever Law would give him. Sanji had no plans on telling him how much he had fallen in love with the surgeon of death.

With his sharp features, inky black hair, and the tattoos across his skin, how could he compare to him? Sanji knew Law was smart, he was a surgeon for fucks sake! What did he a mear cook have to give to this man who could have anyone he wanted?

<>

“I did it!” Sanji laughed, his joy was contgias law couldn't help but to smile. “I found the All blue!”

It was time. Law had this planned for as long as they had been on the trail of the All blue his Sanji stood thire gazeing at his dream, his blue eyes sparkled with joy, his hair aglow in sunlight just like the day he realized he had fallen for the other man. Law got down on one knee and took out the ring box. He had gotten him a realistic heart made from Ruby's.

“Sanji,” Law started speaking. He had practiced this over and over again. Sanji turned to look at him. “I fell in love with you on our way to Dressrosa. At the time, I was certain that I was a dead man walking. I still wasn't ready to admit a thing back in Wano. It didn't matter how much I wanted you. We are on opposing crews. Yet you were, therefore, when I lost everything but Bepo. You kept me sane. You are the stars to my night sky. I would be empty without you, would you black leg Sanji marry me?” Sanji had his hands covering his mouth, tears streaking down his cheeks. Sanji finally removed his hands. His smile was blinding.

“Yes! Fuck Law! I can't believe this!” Law stood up and Sanji threw himself into his arms.

“I love you,” Law cupped Sanji's face in his hands and kissed him.

[groenendaelfic]

I have quite literally not stopped thinking about the basket baby snippet since you posted it! I'm happy to wait but can I be cheeky and ask for any more tidbits, how ever tiny, about the basket baby fic? Like baby name reveal, another snippet, chapter 2 outline...anything at all please I will give you my first born child! (I am amypond on ao3 btw - happy for you to publish this ask)

ah basket baby! Thank you for not forgetting, and of course you can always ask. I love basket baby. One day it will even be born. Why oh why can't I write fic full time, I would be so much more productive and efficient 😅

For a few very foolish seconds Simon considers naming the baby Wilhelm.

He loves Wilhelm and he misses him, can't imagine what he must have been going through this past year, alone safe for the very much not amused Royal Court, no doubt at some estate hidden away in the countryside, not even allowed the familiarity of his own rooms.

He also hates Wilhelm. For not finding a way to tell him, to have them be together, because surely, surely it can't be that impossible, can it?

Except of course it can. Simon's mom was accosted by Royal Court lawyers at work, and that was them being nice. It is exactly that impossible.

Tears spring to his eyes. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. It'd hurt to much. It'll hurt anyway, holding the baby in his arms, knowing it's the only part of Wilhelm he'll ever get to hold again.

He already loves the child more than his own life, and the more he looks at the tiny, scrunched up face getting ready to cry, the more he can see Wilhelm reflected in it.

He shifts his grip, pulls the baby closer and hums a melody he hopes is soothing. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. The baby is not Wilhelm, and it deserves better, deserves its own name. One which isn't a constant reminder of its unreachable parent.

Not that he'd be allowed. No matter how popular the name Wilhelm in all its forms has remained in Sweden ever since Wilhelm was born. The Royal Court would not allow it, and Simon can't risk angering them before the baby isn't officially his and he has the paperwork to prove it.

So not Wilhelm then, he thinks, as the baby bursts into tears. Simon would give anything to be able to cry along, to crumble and break, but he's a father now and his child comes first, even if he has no clue what to do.

He just put on a fresh diaper with the patient help of his mom and it can't be time for another bottle.

"He can sense that you're upset," his mom explains when he asks, and oh doesn't that suck.

He doesn't put the baby back in its basket however, nor does he hand it to his mom. Instead he cuddles it closer and starts humming again.

His precious, precious child. His and Wilhelm's.

A tear rolls down his face. He's hurt and angry and scared, hating the Royal Court and the world and everything for being so absolutely, thoroughly unfair.

Everything except his baby, who is innocent and beautiful and perfect.

It didn't ask to be born, and certainly not into a family like this, to a legacy like this. The monarchy is not its only legacy however, and suddenly Simon knows what he's going to call it.

Not a Swedish name. Nothing to tie it to the long line of ancestors who want nothing to do with it. Not Carl or Magnus or Gustav. Not Erik either, or at least not as a first name.

Something Spanish. Something to ensure his child will never consider itself an unwanted royal bastard too embarrassing to be acknowledged.

Something powerful. A reminder that he is also part Venezuelan, and that that is something to be proud of.

Yes. He'll name the baby after his maternal grandmother. There is no person living or dead he can think of who is stronger or more determined in the face of hardship than his abuela.

It will make her happy, it will make him happy, and if royals can do it, then he can do it, too. Only better and with less toxicity, less historical baggage to weigh it down.

He'll make sure no one will ever compare his precious baby boy to anyone. Will ensure he'll get to pave his own path however he wants. He loves his child, his and Wilhelm's, and whatever he can do to keep it safe he will.

"Alejandro," he tells his mother, and because he can't ignore Wilhelm's one single request adds, "Alejandro Erik Eriksson."

For a moment he considers using the Spanish version for Erik as well, if only out of spite, but that wouldn't be fair to Wilhelm. That, and it would remind him too much of his mom's favorite singer.

His mother bites her lip and nods.

It's the right choice. The only choice, and Simon can only hope little Alejandro will think so, too.

[gameerica]

Hot take: I like what they did with Izzy

First of, this is all my own opinion and if you think they did Izzy dirty, you do you babez. But please don't come after me for what I think about Izzy and his character arc.

Tbh I don't really know if there could've been a direction for Izzy to go without Ed. Like he said, they were Blackbeard. In season 1 he saw Ed wanting to move on from Blackbeard, so he became desperate enough to give them up to the English so that Stede would be killed and they could stay as Blackbeard. But Ed really loved Stede, so he brought up the Act Of Grace just to save him. Then when he returned alone and became Blackbeard again, Izzy thought he got what he wanted. But it wasn't what he wanted after all.

In season 2, Ed was Blackbeard alone, leaving Izzy to feel isolated and hurt over and over again by something he thought he wanted. But that loneliness and separation from wanting/needing Blackbeard opened him up for the rest of the crew. It allowed him to accept their help and their love. So when that bullet he fired missed, he decided to go help his family instead. With Stede coming back, he allowed himself to finally have even the tiniest of friendship with him because he recognized the love Ed had for Stede. It wasn't mean and twisted like the love he thought he wanted from Blackbeard, but nice. By episode 6 he had enough courage to join the party the crew was having instead of brushing it off, even joining in with his iconic singing and look. He looked at the crew as family now, something he would fight and die for gladly. And eventually, he did.

I think even before they got to the boat, Izzy knew he didn't have much time. As much as the people around him wanted to help, it would only be a waste of time and resources. He apologizes for what he has done in the past even though they have BOTH been terrible to each other. Blackbeard was not healthy for either of the parties involved and both of them have grown to the point that they can see it now. Izzy thought he'd be nothing without Blackbeard, so he fought hard to keep Blackbeard as it was, only to see that without Blackbeard, he was so much more. When he says "I wanna go", I took it as him accepting death rather than just wanting to die in general. Because he crawled from his death bed to help his family, and seeing that his family was safe Ed included (Eddie, NOT Blackbeard). He has grown over the season to embrace Ed, to try and love him like he loved the idea of Blackbeard. So in his final moments, he tells Ed to just be Ed. Even giving us a mirroring scene with that "There he is" line. The difference is that s1 Izzy wanted Ed to become his image Blackbeard. s2 Izzy got to know Ed and just wanted him to be himself. And him dying was like the final nail in Blackbeard's. Ed killed his part of Blackbeard by embracing Edward and following his dream of opening an inn. Izzy killed his part of Blackbeard by learning to be his own being and being a part of something else: the crew, his new family. And though he unfortunately didn't survive to see them thrive, he died knowing his family was safe. With the "brains of the operation" being gone, Blackbeard is truly... dead.

Also, I've seen a couple people say that they didn't like how Izzy was buried on land near the inn. Like,, sure, again you can have your opinions, but you can't exactly bury him in the local cemetery. And if he was just dropped in the sea, it would've felt like just another joke like "welp, that's dealt with". I like to think that having Izzy's grave near the inn allows Ed to go and talk to him but that's just a headcanon lol.

So TLDR: I think they did Izzy's character arc justice by having him learn that his desire of needing to be a part of Blackbeard was not healthy, learning to open himself up to his new family and eventually learning to love Eddie for Ed, not Blackbeard.

Of course it would've been nice to see Izzy thrive in season 3, but his character arc is done (dead and buried lmao). Yes, it was rushed, but I blame HBO max entirely, this show deserved 10 episodes.

[normal-internet-user]

DAREDEVIL Pt: 3

◇~~◇~~◇~~◇~~◇

Pt: 1 Pt: 2

Summary: You reunite with your uncle Yoshi, and some catching up takes place.

Warnings: Nah

Requested: Nah

GN Reader!

(A/N): quick just so you know, nibling is the gender neutral term for neice or nephew!

....................................

You followed close behind the turtles, who turned out to technically be your cousins, doing your best to not let the overwhelming smell of the drainage stop you.

Mikey held tight to your hand the second to stepped off the ladder, claiming he didn't want you to trip on anything. You were going to explain to him that you were just fine on your own, but he sounded so happy to help, you just couldn't.

"We're here." Leo said, turning back to face you.

"Oh! Come on dude/tte, I can show you the pinball machine!"

Raph pulled you away from Mikey with a sigh, "Mikey, they need to see Sensei, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Mikey said sheepishly.

You laughed, shaking your head as you crossed your arms. You followed behind Leo, his heart beat was faster than before. He was nervous. How silly.

You pushed past Leo with a large smile on your face as you knocked three times on the dojo door, "Yoshi Ojisan?" You pushed open the door, peaking your head in, just like you used to do as a small child.

"(Name)? What- what are you doing here?" He sounded extremely surprised, and that alone made you even more excited.

You giggled, stepping into the room, "What? You don't see your (neice/nephew/nibling) for 15 years, and I don't even get a hug?"

You opened up your arms, and you heard his low chuckle, a noise that used to fill your old home in Japan. After the deaths of Tang Shen and Miwa, Yoshi came to your family for refuge.

Your father and Yoshi had been friends since childhood, and had always been close, but after Yoshi lost his family, the two bonded over that. You had lost your mother the day you were born, she tragically died during your birth, but your father never failed to take good care of you.

Then, Yoshi left for America, and you never saw him again. He kept in touch for afew months, sending letters, and calling every now and again, one day though, all communication stopped, and after your father left to search for Yoshi, and found no trace of him, you believed him dead.

You pulled the old man in for a hug, but what you felt, was not skin, it was fur. You furrowed your brows, confused as you touched his cheek, "You're all soft..." you murmered.

Your uncle nodded, slightly confused as to how you only noticed such when you hugged him, then he saw your eyes, they were not the bright (eye color) he'd known, they were milky white.

"Child what happend to your eyes?" he asked brushing away the hair that slightly blocked them from view.

You sighed, pulling away from your uncle, "Ryū. He blinded me while I slept, when I was 12. He no doubt intended to kill me, but papa saved me before I could befall a worse fate."

Yoshi hummed, "Ryū? I thought he'd return. Is that why you are here? In America?"

"Hai." you said, "Father and I were tailing The Fist, when they left for America, so did we. We didn't expect them to be working with The Foot, however."

You heard your uncles heart rate pick up, clearly this was news to him.

"What? The Shredder and Ryū are working together?"

You nodded grimly, crossing your arms, "Yes. They're working on something called "Project Merger". I don't yet know what it is, but it cannot be any good for this city."

You the hushed voices of your cousins as they hid around the corner, clearly eavsdropping, you began to chuckle, "What are you four blockheads hiding for? We know you're there."

Yoshi chuckled as his boys rounded the corner sheepishly, and you turned back to face him with a cheeky smile, "You never told me why you're all fluffy, Ojisan."

Your uncle sighed, though you could tell he was smiling, "Come my child, let me tell you the story of how my our family came to be."

....................................

Quick (A/N): Ok so, to answer some questions, no, this fic will not tie into any exsisting seasons, think of it as it's own season I suppose. I wanna say it takes place before the Kraang invasion, and the farmhouse era. Kinda think of it as it's own series of episodes.

Translations: Ojisan = Uncle

Let me know if I'm incorrect!