#i was born mid june

[blueskittlesart]

btw guys i only cried for like 20 minutes after ordering the zines for last month's preorder 💪 this is a crazy improvement over last time when i was inconsolable and paralyzed with fear for about 2 hours

[fantasykiri5]

Sorry but I’m just not going to pay attention to some of the bad kids’ canon heights. Some of them are listed as too damn tall (and Gorgug has 100 percent grown since freshman year) so have 80 million headcanons

Like you’re telling me Riz is supposed to be 4’4”?? That’s a tall ass goblin! That’s too big to be reasonably carted around on the others’ shoulders, no no, I’m making the executive decision to draw him as 3’9” - 3’11” from now on and you can’t stop me. I’d give him another inch or two by college and that’s it.

Kristen being 5’11”? NAH She’s 5’6”. BIG 5’6” energy right there.

Adaine and Fig didn’t have their heights listed on the wiki but I’m thinking Adaine is 5’10” and Fig is 5’4”. Or Fig is also 5’10” ish and takes after Gorthalax idk but I’m leaning towards short Fig.

Fabian can actually stay same as canon at 6’1”. Maybe grow an inch or two since freshman year but honestly his still works. He’s a year older than the others, prolly grew a little earlier and plateaued early-mid sophomore year, half-elf youth look and all that. I think he lied in introductions freshman year and was about 5’11” - 6’0” and grew over the year before the others could notice the discrepancy.

And Gorgug. Gorgug. You’re telling me he reached 6’4” in freshman year and didn’t keep growing?? Mother fucker he has to have hit at LEAST one growth spurt since, puberty does not hit that early in boys that he was done growing at 14/15. I’m thinking 6’8” or so by Junior Year so far, maybe another couple inches before graduating, maybe not.

[reasonsforhope]

"Two weeks ago [mid-June, 2024], Yellowstone National Park made headlines when a mother grizzly bear was spotted out and about with five cubs in tow — the biggest grizzly bear cub litter ever seen in the park. 

Grizzly bears in that region of North America typically only have one to three bear cubs a litter. 

Frank van Manen, the leader of the Interagency Grizzly Bear Study Team, said it was possible that an “adoption” event had occurred, in which two mothers give birth in the same year, and one ends up taking on the sibling’s cubs. 

In an interview, van Manen told Wyofile that if the bears had all been born in the same litter, it would be the first five-cub litter “recorded in the history of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.”

“Whether it was an adoption or whether it truly is a five-cub litter, it just amazes me that every year there’s some new surprise to us, even after intensively studying this population for more than 50 years,” van Manen said. “I just think that’s cool.” ...

On top of this record sighting, [Grizzly watch Bill] Hamblin is baffled by the sheer number of cubs that have been spotted so far in 2024. 

Since they started emerging in the spring, the total count of unique grizzly bear cubs spotted has ticked up to a whopping 18 — triple the average number. 

“That’s more than we’ve ever seen,” Hamblin said."

-via GoodGoodGood, July 3, 2024

[22degreehalo]

Wait are Americans all 18 before they graduate high school?

'Cause I (Australian) was still 17 for a good 6 months when I started uni. I actually had to get a permission slip from my parents to use the school computers because they had internet access.

I'm becoming 20 soon this year. Am I too old to reapply for college? It's gonna feel weird and gross being in an environment with minors

finally a joke anon that's actually funny

[batifresa]

The Ultimate "Challengers" Timeline

Updated: October 20, 2024

I kept seeing some confusion in the fandom regarding the timeframe of certain events in the film, so I started working on this as a way to clarify theories and map out everything as accurately as possible. If you notice any mistakes, or know of a canon event that I missed, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Relationship-o-metric:

Art and Patrick were friends for approximately 6 years, 6 months and 16 days (2391 days).

Patrick and Tashi were in a relationship for exactly 5 months and 20 days (173 days).

Art and Tashi have been in a relationship for approximately 8 years, 11 months and 19 days (3275 days).

Some pointers and notes:

Art, Tashi and Patrick are all confirmed to be 31 years old in the final script of the film.

Lily is confirmed to be 5 years old in the final script of the film, so she would've been born sometime in 2014.

The American school year starts in mid/late August or early September, and ends in mid/late May or early June, depending on state. We do not know where the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy is located.

The majority of boarding schools start their academic program in middle school (6th grade). Art and Patrick would've been 11 years old then. We can infer that they either: befriended each other on their first year at the academy, and later asked to be placed together as dorm mates for their second year, or that one (or both) of them started attending the academy a year later (7th grade), though I think that's unlikely.

Stanford follows the quarter system (not semesters). Most students start the academic year in late September (Autumn Quarter), and must complete 12 quarters to graduate.

Stanford also does not revoke athlete scholarships due to injuries. So it is highly likely that, since Tashi couldn't go pro, and she still had her scholarship, she stayed in college until she graduated.

Since Art was playing a Masters 1000 tournament in 2010 (which require a high player ranking), we can assume that he either: left Stanford to go pro at one point, or he was allowed leeway to skip classes and compete professionally.

The film ends on August 4, 2019. They had no idea what was about to happen in December 2019. In 2020, the vast majority of tennis events were cancelled due to the pandemic, so that's a potential topic to tackle in fic, I guess.

[da-shrimping-station]

RUI | What in "Hell" is Bad? Devil OC

more info under the cut

‌she/her [around mid to late 20's in terms of human age]

‌a devil from Niflheim who moved to Paradise Lost

‌is a nyctophiliac and loves to venture out at night (she's easier to find after sundown than in the daytime)

‌born from 2 fathers (her Da is from Niflheim while her Papa is from Tartaros)

‌was a late bloomer and discovered her healing powers a bit later in life

‌used to work as a mercenary and went to Abyssos a lot, she was part of Bathin's legion

‌has a Hell cat named Mocchan (who always loved to demand treats from any devil it encounters)

Rui is a devil who has a knack for finding treasures. She was young when Belphegor had awakened and saw how the King of Sloth had rebuilt the nation. One of her fathers owns a small apothecary that turns into an impromptu clinic during angel attacks. While her Papa always scolded her for her less than stellar bedside manners, her Da always cames home smiling after each sparring session. She was more than happy to join her Da in the battlefield, only under different nobles. Her Da was part of Agares' legion while she joined Bathin's.

Moving to Paradise Lost was quite the adjustment. With stricter rules to abide by and scrutiny from the nobles, Rui had to curb her recklessness. It was a huge shift to go from being on the front lines of a battlefield to being assigned to the medic tents. But with her being an experienced fighter, it wasn't uncommon for her to be called to more dangerous tasks. Rui's training under Morax's legion made her into a very capable devil.

Despite adjusting well in the new nation, Rui made sure to visit her fathers whenever possible.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A/N:

Y'all this OC's been marinating since I started the game and the art was in the WIP trenches since early June! She was fun to design. Her hair and horn design took a bit of tries and I stuck with that one after hours of scrolling through pinterest 😭 and making her part of the itty bitty tiddy community was a conscious choice (let the men have the tits for once JHSFGKSJSKS)

Rui was initially supposed to be very femme with makeup and gold hair accessories and all that but when Niflheim was finally introduced via Beleth's and Belphegor's release, I went for a more practical style.

I have some sketches of her fathers but they're not ready for posting yet 😭 im still tweaking designs here and there

But yeah, I've got another child for this game and I hope it stops there lmao I can't have any more

[gallusrostromegalus]

How old's everyone by the time canon bleach rolls around?

Well that's an interesting question that I have devoted way too much thought to.

Most people in soul society age at the normal pace of one year per year, so they only have One Age, but even a tiny excess of spiritual energy can make some age much slower, and in Seireitei, which is full of Spiritually Potent People, most people have two ages- Calendar and Living Age. Calendar is how many years someone has existed, Living is approximately what developmental age they're at. Most Shinigami age at about one year for every 2-5 Lived, with average "died of natural causes and not in the line of duty" lifespans coming to 200-400 years. Power Level has a HEAVY Inverse correlation to aging, but once you hit the power levels associated with Seated officers and captains, things get Weird. Also fatal. Very few captains have died of Natural Causes.

But re: Everyone's ages in June 2000, when the series starts under the cut:

Karakura Gang:

The Kids are not dead yet, so not Subject to the extended lifepsans yet, but I did age everyone up a bit- Ichigo and his Human Friends are all Juniors in High school- age 17... ish.

Ichigo's 18th birthday occurs a couple weeks after he meets Rukia. He was held back from starting Kindergarten for a year because he was too short to reach the drinking fountains.

Chad was tall and his parents were both working full time so his mom persuaded his school to let him in early, so Chad only had his 17th birthday the month before he meets Rukia.

Kon: CA: 132 (9 years in his body) LA: 3, but in cat years, so really more like 22 in human years. An grad student in charge of a pack of teenagers.

Rukia: A Member of the Karakura Gang by association (i.e. my staging notes), Rukia is CA: 73 and LA: 20. She and Renji entered the academy when they were CA:25 and LA: 16. Like many high-powered shinigami, her rate of aging is slowing as she accumulates power, so she will likely live to see at least 500 (unless something happens)

Renji: See: Rukia. Rukia is eight months older than Renji and NEVER lets him forget it.

Kisuke Urahara: CA: 328 LA: 32.4545454545- Urahara is aging at one year for every 11 lived which pleases him because at least once a century his ages will line up and he'll have a straight shot of numbers and that's CLEARLY an excuse to have a MEGA birthday party and give him extra presents! He'll be 333 AND 33 in 2005, so Ichigo should start planning his surprise party!

Yoruichi Shihoin: CA: 329 LA: 28 Yoruichi is 365 days older than Kisuke (He was born in 1672) a leap year) and NEVER lets him forget it.

Isshin Shiba: CA: UUUH- LA: UUUUUUUH- Isshin Shiba was born to the Shiba Clan in 1846, was 154 when he vanished in 1980, appears to be in his mid-forties now, and can only actually REMEMBER the last 20 years of his life with any Clarity. The battle with White left his soul so damaged that when he fused with Masaki, he lost all his spiritual powers and forgot damn near everything- he remembers his given name, the name and face of Kaien Shiba but not how he knows him, that shinigami and hollows exist... but when he overheard Ryuken Ishida lying to the hospital staff that this was his friend from medical school who had been in a terrible car accident, he believed him, and assumed he WAS a doctor that had been in a terrible accident. Masaki was just as frightened of the Shinigami coming after the Quincy. While she could keep her relatives at bay, she couldn't fool the shinigami, so she asked the others to make sure Isshin never tried to return to spirit world... and they went along with it. As far as Isshin knows, Urahara was a guy he worked for as a teenager who helped him set up shop as a doctor after the accident. Yoruichi really is someone he used to be on the intramural volleyball team with back in college. Shinji is some guy who knew his parents, and decided to stay a friend of the family even after after they died in the accident. He and Masaki were married in a beautiful ceremony some weeks ago... Shame they lost all the pictures... Ichigo's promotion to Substitute Shinigami and the confrontation about "You used to be a CAPTAIN?? Why didn't you warn me and the twins about anything???" is one HELL of a shock for him.

Soul Society:

Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto: CA: 2,146 LA: 75 He was enjoying a Long Prime Middle Age until his Divorce in 1196, at which point he went bald, went gray and lost a significant amount of his muscle mass in under a decade, and has looked like an Old Man since.

Chojiro Sasakibe: CA: 1,358 LA: 66 (debated). Chojiro was barely 100 years old when he turned up at Yamamoto's Post Officer Self-Defense Dojo and refused to leave. His Lived Age is a secret known only to Unohana- the debate rages because Sasakibe was born with his Silver Fox hair, and with that removed, shows very little signs of aging. He insists he "-Just keep myself very well." and refuses to elaborate. He has a standing agreement with the SWA that his LA over various years may be revealed after he dies, so they may let people lay bets, on the condition that they give him a percentage when laid to support his Black Tea Habit.

---

Soi Fon: CA: 201 LA: 29 Soi Fon has genetically terrific skin and if her mother is any indication, she'll look like a twentysomething until she hits menopause. THEN she'll look like a Silver Fox.

Marechiyo Omaeda: CA: 102 LA: 24 Omaeda has only been Lieutenant for 14 years, taking over the position early after his father (the previous 2nd Division lieutenant) had an extremely unexpected stroke. He's recovering well, but doesn't want to return because he's so proud of Marechiyo.

---

Ichimaru Gin: CA:DEBATABLE, but at least 357 LA: 21 Gin has several days that *could* count as his "Birthday" but he's existed in his current body for as long as Rangiku has known him.

Rojuro "Rose" Otoribashi: CA: 312 LA: 37 Rose was promoted to captain a bare 2 years ago when TBTP happens, and is considered Young for a captain. In terms of Living Age, he's one of the oldest Visored.

Izuru Kira: CA: 89 LA: 23 He was a bit older than Rukia and Renji in CA and LA when he entered the Academy. He could have entered sooner but he was the sole caregiver for both his parents, who died premature deaths of chronic illnesses.

---

Retsu Unohana: CA: 804 LA: "As old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth." According to the official records, Retsu Unohana enrolled in Shin'o Academy in 1198, and when asked her age, said "I became as I am last year" Which the intake officer interpreted to mean that she died and appeared as an adult in Spirit World in 1197, and she has absolutely failed to correct that misconception. Or update the public records regarding her age.

Yachiru Unohana: CA 1,497 LA: 37 To her credit, Unohana DID die when she was 17 and appeared in the afterlife at the age she died at. Then she barely aged by the time Yamamoto recruited her in 998. She served as Kenpachi of the 11th Divisison for 199 years, until her battle with an as-yet-unnamed young man in 1197. Shortly after her 200th year as Kenpachi passed, she came to terms with the fact she was no longer the fighter she was, and fell in battle to her lieutenant. With that, "Yachiru" Unohana died, and the following day she enrolled in the academy under the name Retsu to study medicine.

Isane Koetetsu: CA: 282 LA: 28 Isane and her sister Kiyone are unusual for Shinigami in that the Koetesu clan has some of the slowest-aging shinigami in it, and the slowed aging STARTS as infants. Isane couldn't even enroll in Shin'o Academy until her 100th birthday, and even then she needed special dispensation to let what was functionally a 10-year old take college classes.

Hanataro Yamada: CA: 141 LA: 23 Hanataro is the younger brother of Former 4th div Lieutenant Seinosuke Yamada, who now runs the Seireitei Medical Center i.e. The Rich Bitch Hospital. Hanataro entered the academy at a very young age like Isane and graduated with honors, but people tend to compare him to his more accomplished older brother, which both of them think is Unfair seeing as Seinosuke is a whole 112 years older than him. Hanatarou started in the 4th division at the tender age of 42/14, and some of the other medics decided to prank the lieutenant's baby brother by sending him to do the initial medical checkup of newly-appointed 11th division captain Zaraki. When he failed to return for six hours, Seinosuke went into a panicked rage and ran to the 11th, ready to make Zaraki the shortest-serving captain ever if need be, only to discover Hanataro patiently vaccinating and enthusiastic Zaraki for EVERYTHING, a process that was taking a while because Zaraki's spiritual pressure kept breaking the needles. Hanataro has been the 11th Division Pocket Medic ever since, to the detriment of Seinosuke's blood pressure. Zaraki encouraged his interest in Toxicology by bringing him dozens of venomous snakes to milk while on field expeditions, also much to the detriment of Seinosuke's blood pressure.

---

Sosuke Aizen: CA: 432 LA: 47 Aizen was born an identical twin, but was the only brother to inherit any spiritual powers. The boy's mother was caught and killed by an enraged shopkeep stealing food to feed a half-starving Sosuke when they were young children. The boys managed to get jobs in another city working at a candy store, and did so well that the owner left the store to them when he retired. Sosuke's marketing talents and Sosato's culinary skills made "My Brother's Candy" a wild success, and soon they were opening franchise stores, and became popular minor celebrities in their district. Sosuke even married and had children- and grand children, and was an active member of his district government and merchants council, personally opening up several schools and water treatment facilities. Then, shortly after he and Sosato celebrated their 88th birthday, tragedy struck. There was a massive flood that lead to a massive crop failure that lead to a massive disease outbreak, which lead to major political upheaval, which lead to Sosuke and his brother having to flee their home. Unfortunately, Sosato dearly loved his brother, and when the hail of arrows came down on them from the soldiers pursing the civilians, Sosato decided that he was near the end of his life anyway, while Sosuke- still functionally in his 20's- had so much to live for, and put himself between his brother and the onslaught. And so Sosuke Aizen went from Revered Councilor, Celebrated Candymaker, beloved Great-grandfather and Twin to an Exile and the sole survivor of his name. He joined the Shinigami, determined to make the Soul Society a better place where what happened to him would never happen again- only to discover that he was at the mercy of a corrupt and incompetent government, and worse, an apparently uncaring God. Until one night when he had a dream- all the pieces of his study of Kido came together and he realized there WAS a way to fix all this- He just had to become God. With that, Gin slithered away into the night and deep into the far districts, so he could assume a human form and forge an identity Aizen wouldn't question when they met back up again.

Shinji Hirako: CA: 412 LA: 31 Shinji genuinely thought he could get away with impersonating a high schooler to spy on Ichigo- after all, he still looked like he was what, 22? With the right clothes and some recent slang- "Why is there some creepy old guy wearing the school uniform?" Ichigo asks his friends the second he sees Shinji. "He looks like some kind of weird hipster who's trying to relive his youth." Sighs Mizurio. "-Or a really deluded pervert who thinks he can sneak into the locker room." says Tatsuki, cracking her knuckles. "He doesn't look THAT old-" Keigo protests, and there is the briefest glimmer of hope for Shinji's Ego. "-Maybe he's some kind of super-senior who got held back a bunch because he's dumb as a brick." Shinji crumples to the ground, defeated by the direct hits to his insecurities.

Hinamori Momo: CA: 66 LA: 26 Momo has an extreme case of babyface but is secretly ripped under her uniform and well on her way to MILFdom from the waist down. The first time Hiyori sees her in shorts is a psychological and spiritual awakening.

Hiyori Sarugaki: CA: 126 LA: 20 Hiyori is the youngest Living Age and slowest-aging visored. She gets mad about her youthful appearance but also uses it to get children's discounts at theme parks.

---

Byakuya Kuchiki: CA: 181 LA: 26 Byakuya was married quite young, and Widowed soon after. He's still in his prime, and exceptionally hale for a Kuchiki- Despite the exceptional spiritual power of the clan, the centuries of inbreeding have given them severe health issues and very short lifespans for their power. Byakuya's grandfather Ginrei only lived to 486, and his father Sojun died at 200 from Hemophillia. Byakuya is still working up the nerve to tell Rukia that she will likely outlive him by a considerable margin, and the fact that Rukia hasn't got a nibling to spoil was His medical problem, not Hisana's.

---

Sajin Komamura: CA: 712 LA: 22 Komamura is somehow both Older AND Younger than everyone thinks he is, and that's not even getting into the "Wait, is that in human years or wolf years?" Debacle. When Yamamoto met Sajin for the first time in the 1400's he was extremely impressed with the giant warriors skill and courage, and before Sajin had a chance to greet him properly, asked the warrior to join his Academy. "I- I'm really old but I'm actually eight." came the voice of a small boy from behind the helmet and Yamamoto had to go stand with his face pressed into the wall for a minute.

Love Aikawa: CA:345 LA:33 Love Aikawa is one of the few shinigami who came into his spiritual powers so fast that he did NOT have a creer before becoming a Shinigami.

Tetsuzaemon Iba: CA: 154 LA: 30 Testsuzaemon was still a small boy when Komamura was appointed to the third seat of the first division, and got to know his mother Chikane Iba. Chikane worked extremely hard, but held Yamamoto in high regard, and Komamura in similar regard by extension. So now Tetsuzaemon is lieutenant to a man he still secretly thinks of as his "Favorite Babysitter".

---

Shunsui Kyoraku: CA: 856 LA: 48 Shunsui was forced to join the academy before his 100th birthday by his noble family because they had not actually planned on actually having a third son survive to adulthood and didn't really know what to do with him. Both Shunsui and Ukitake are old enough to remember when Unohana was still Yachiru, and Shut The Fuck Up about that fact.

Nanao Ise: CA: 141 LA: 28 When she first arrives in Seireitei, Yachiru Kusajishi is LA Eight, and quickly makes friends with Nanao, who is the other little girl close to her age with spiritual powers: "You're my baby sister now, but you'll be my Big sister sooner than later." Yachiru explained. "What do you mean?" Nanao blinked at her. "You're what, Living Age Seven, right?" Yachiru asked, squinting at her. "Yeah, but I'm really Forty-One!" Nanao insisted. It bothered her when people refused to take her seriously because of her age. "Right. I'm like Living Age Eight, so I'm your big sister. But I'm actually Four hundred and six." "…What?" Nanao gaped. "but, but that means you must be aging at…" She frowned, trying to do long division in her head. "-I age about one year for every fifty lived, yeah." "You- oh god." Nanao realized. "You outlive everyone you know." "Not everyone! Ken-chan and I are both aging at the same pace." Yachiru explained, wobbling a bit as she walked the log over the creek. "I guess I'm lucky- there aren't that many of us who age this slow so most of us don't have anybody who's really a 'life-long' companion, and I might be only one with a parent that's got a similar lifespan!" She grinned. "I age at about one for five, so in- ...in less than ten years I'll be older than you." Nanao hummed with concern. "Yep! But until then, you have to do everything your Big Sister says!" Yachiru grinned.

Lisa Yadomaru: CA: 427 LA: 36 Even though they're not REMOTELY related, Lisa bonded very strongly to Nanao when she was Shunsui's lieutenant. This causes some dispute with Yachiru when she returns to Soul Society because according to yachiru, Nanao is her Little Big Sister, owing to the difference in CA, to therefore Lisa is her Big-Big Little Sister, and Lisa thinks she doesn't have to support Yachiru's Candy Habit.

---

Kaname Tousen: Calendar age: 499 LA: 32 After the events of the Winter War, during which Kaname turned 500, Kaname disputes that he is only 350, because he spent the last 150 years under Aizen's Curse and "-You call that living?" Everyone (except Sajin) regularly forgets when Kaname's birthday is because he doesn't celebrate it- it was also his sister Kakiyo's birthday and he hasn't really felt like 'celebrating' since she was murdered, and Ichigo is the first person to REALLY understand his feelings on the matter, his own mother dyind so close to his birthday and how visiting her Memorial wasn't exactly a celebration, but it wasn't exactly mourning either.

Shuuhei Hisagi: CA:119 LA: 27 Renji entered the Academy the year Shuuhei was due to Graduate and still thinks of Shuuhei as his "Senpai". Shuuhei entered the academy the same year Rangiku was due to graduate, and still thinks of her as his "Senpai". Renji once called Rangiku his "Grand-Senpai" She and Shuuhei both beat him with shoes about it.

Kensei Muguruma: CA:469 LA: 29 Kensei supports Kaname's declaration that he's only 350 because finding out Kaname is older than him brings up all the insecurities Kensei developed from being the MUCH younger brother to five sisters, and he can't handle being "The Baby" again.

Mashiro Kuna: CA: 506 LA: 25 It took 47 rounds of Janken with Yachiru for Mashiro to finally be the first to get to three victories and declare herself The Biggest Sister. She also saw Kensei's meltdown about Kaname being older than him and is quietly holding onto the fact she's older than both of them until the moment it will cause her beloved captain the maximum amount of Psychological Damage.

---

Rangiku Matsumoto: CA: 357 LA: 29 Rangiku measures her Calendar Age from the date she appeared in Soul Society at age 14, which is an accepted practice, but sometimes people want to add their years in the living world as well. Rangiku supports Kaname's claim to be 350 because they let HER knock 14 years off her CA for an even more arbitrary reason, and also it means she doesn't have to get him a belated 500th Birthday gift for another 150 years.

Toshiro Hitsugaya: CA: 60 LA: 12 Hitsugaya is FAR AND AWAY the youngest Shinigami to achieve a seated officer's position by any age, and this was 100% done as a political maneuver by Yamamoto. Hitsugaya is no Slouch- he graduated salutatorian of his class and is the youngest person ever to achieve Bankai, but Yamamoto slapped him into the lieutenant's position 20 years ago (Hitsugaya graduated within weeks of Isshin Shiba's Disappearance) SPECIFICALLY to put Rangiku between him and any unscrupulous noble houses looking to forcibly adopt him/marry him to a spare heir/straight-up kidnap Hitsugaya to prop up their failing genetic lines. One of the clans tried it anyway and the resulting smoking crater where the clan compound used to be put the fear of Haineko into everyone and has so far discouraged further attempts.

---

Kenpachi Zaraki: CA: 1,477* LA: 42 Like Gin, Zaraki has several dates that could count as the start of his existence, but when asked how old he was at the first moon-viewing party he went to- "...How d'ya guys measure that?" Zaraki asked, studying Shunsui with his good eye in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. "Uh- well, for most people, it's when you were Born in Soul Society, but if you died and appeared here it's the day you first existed in Soul Society." he explained, feeling like he was missing an important dimension to the question. "Oh! In that case I'm- wait, shit. What day is it today?" "It's November 18th." Unohana smiled. "Ah, fuck! With all the chaos I forgot-!" Zaraki laughed. "Turned 1,377 last Monday." The assembled Shinigami all stared blanky, save for Unohana, who appeared to be trying to not laugh into her cup. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard that correctly..?" Jushiro asked, entirely sure he had. "One Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Seven." Zaraki repeated slowly, grin cracking across his face. "-Can't say I've done as good a job lookin' after myself as Sasakibe here though." "I- good heavens! The only person you're younger than is Yamamoto himself!" Aizen exclaimed, eyes wide behind his glasses. Zaraki frowned at that for a moment and then nodded. "...If you say so." Unohana made a small snuffling noise as she tried to not snort sake up her nose laughing. "How old are YOU, Mr. Glasses?" Yachiru asked. "Hm? Oh, I'm 332! And how old are y-" Aizen began to reply before he was interrupted by Yachiru jabbing her finger into the tip of his nose, cackling. "HAH! you're seventy- uh- seventy four years younger than me! You're a little baby man!" She clapped her hands with glee. "Unohana-sama? Are you alright?" Ukitake asked as the chief medic coughed suddenly. "I'm having a great time!" She wheezed, eyes watering from accidentally inhaling her drink.

Yachiru Kusajishi: CA: 506 LA: 10 Yachiru was Very Loved by her parents. Zaraki tells her this. When he found her, he found her in an otherwise abandoned house, with her parents, who had obviously died protecting her from the late-winter cold snap. She was still in her mother and father's arms when he came to investigate her cries. Her parents were wearing kimono that had the bottom third cut off, just above their knees, even though it was the middle of winter. She was wearing a double-layered baby Kimono made of the fabric they had cut off, to make sure she stayed warm. He took her into the nearest village, in hopes someone there could nurse her and tell him what her name was. She was lucky- there was a woman nursing her own daughter who agreed to take on her as well. But the Village elder hung his head in shame- he knew the couple the vagrant described- they lived far up the mountain, and only went by the name "Kusajishi", the name of the district, as was the style of many poor and illiterate farmers. They only came down from their farm once or twice a year to sell the special herbs they grew up there- the elder had seen the woman pregnant, but they had not come down to tell him the girl's name for the village records. So that day, the vagrant became Kenpachi Zaraki, and gave to her the name Yachiru as any parent should name their child, and the name Kusajishi, after the parents that loved her so. She only ever calls her adopted father Ken-chan, and is the only person who is allowed to call him that, because a parent should be called something special by their child. In deference to her parent's sacrifice, she does not call him "father". That was another man, who died for her. Zaraki does not lie to Yachiru, ever. Everything he told her about how they met is true. He has omitted one detail from the story, however. Her parents died from the cold snap because they had to be at least eighty, and not blessed with spiritual power like her. She had outlived her parents as an infant. And after speaking to the village elder about how, to his shame, he'd never managed to ask the little girl's name, even since he was a little boy, and failed to send anyone up there to check on the family, The vagrant with no name sat near the fire in the village hall, holding the little girl with no name. He thought about how terribly lonely it was, to not have a name. and how lucky he was that he had a mother who also had an extremely long lifespan that was able to live through raising him, and that he could still visit and speak to. and how unlucky this little girl was, that she did not. "How d'ya get a name?" the vagrant asked the village elder. "Well, here you just tell me what your name is, and I write it down in the village records." the elder said, watching him with curiosity. "...if I tell you a name, will you show me how to write it?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Of course." The elder nodded. The vagrant was silent for a while. "Then her name is Yachiru Kusajishi." Said the vagrant. "...And yours?" The elder asked, picking up the record book and inkstone. "Mine?" the vagrant asked. "You're giving her a name because she hasn't got anyone else to do it, aren't you?" The elder asked, gaze steady. "If you name something, it's your responsibility forever, and you're going to have to be responsible for yourself if you're going to be responsible for her." The Vagrant considered this for a while. "My name-" he started and stopped, throat clicking like he was literally choking on the words. "-My name for her is Kenpachi Zaraki."

---

Mayuri Kurotsuichi: CA: 132 LA: 267 Mayuri is the only shinigami aging faster than the expected rate. This is because he escaped from Hell, and Hell would very much like to get his ass back there ASAP.

Nemuri Kurotsuichi: CA: 20 LA: 20 Nemu has been twenty for twenty years now, ever since she was pulled from the goo of her incubation tube by her father Mayuri, and will be 20 for the foreseeable future. The static lack of aging is something Mayuri hopes to fix in future drafts- Nemu is the seventh Nemuri, and the most successful one so far- She's the second Nemuri to actually make it out of her incubation tube, and the first to survive more than a year, but Nemuri Hachigo is already developing in the basement of the 12th in case something happens to her. The knowledge of her 'Little Sister' is something that brings Nemu comfort, like already knowing what you're going to be reincarnated as. "That's really fucked up." Says Uryuu Ishida in the rubble of Las Noches as she puts his intestines back inside his thorax where they belong. He's on a lot of drugs he'd like to know less about. "-It's also kind of cute. In a away. but really fucked up."

Kirio Hikifune: CA: 617 LA: 35 Kirio is one of a handful of people in on Unohana's double identity, but would NEVER betray her beloved Senpai's personal information! She served under Unohana in the fourth and developed her flesh-to-food technique with Unohana's help.

Tama Nikuya: CA: 1,477 LA: 26 Despite being the same age as Zaraki and Unohana and was aging at the same slow rate, the process that turned her into a Puca also caused her to go into bio-hell-fuckery that has effectively stopped her from aging at all. Or rather, she IS aging but every time she dies, she reappears as the LA age she was when she underwent The Flesh Change. She says the process is not infinite- she WILL eventually run out of spare lives, and if she manages to live long enough to die of old age in this body, she will NOT respawn at all. Also- it HURTS! She does die, which hurts, and comes back, which hurts EVEN MORE, and each time she comes back, she's confronted with the prospect of either outling all her friends or putting them through a similar hell to stay together. All in all, DO NOT ATTEMPT. I am speaking to you specifically, Kisuke. Akon Akon: CA: 119 LA: 27 Akon only has the one name but the archives don't like that so he uses it Twice. He was imprisoned without trial in the Maggot's nest for being part Yokai when he was a small child, and sprung to work in R&D By Mayuri shortly after Urahara's disappearence. He's friends with Yachiru and Nanao because there weren't hat many kids in the social circles of the Gotei-13's upper ranks, and all three of them shared a mutual interest in the Dinosaurs that were being discovered at the time. He's friends with Shuuhei because he was forced to take Remedial "if you work in the 12th instead of just R&D you need to actually know how to be a shinigami" classes the same year Shuuhei was accepted to the academy and they were dorm mates. Akon intermittendly draws weird one-panel cartoons for the Seireitei bulletin under a pen name, often about strange scientific jokes and on one notable occasion, bovine anthropological artifacts.

---

Jushiro Ukitake: CA: 857 LA: 44 Ukitake is genuinely unsure if, when or HOW he will die, given that he is host to a Divine Being. Once that particular cat is out of the bag, it gives him something to commiserate about with Tama. Already, Shunsui is starting to outpace his age- is he doomed to bury his friend? or will circumstance force Mimihagi to consume him entirely? Mimihagi is sympathetic- the Left Hand of God is also not sure what this fusion entails for him- it's possible that if Jushiro dies by any other means besides Mimihagi consuming him, that Mimihagi will die with him, and neither is sure what kind of impact that might have on the universe at large. Still, if it weren't for Mimihagi's intervention, Jushiro wouldn't have this time at all, and Mimihagi will never have had these experiences, so neither regrets the choice they made, regardless of how it ends.

Hachigen Ushoda: CA: 278 LA: 32. Hachigen is appearing under the 13th Division because the Kido Corps got absorbed into the 13th while he was away. Hachi consistently fools people into thinking he's way older than he actually is because he has to tailor-make all his clothes for his massive frame, so why NOT go all the way and make something Special for all this effort?

...this post is already three miles long, I'll do the Arrancar and Quincy next.

[redmyeyes]

Fellow Travelers Timeline

(as comprehensive as i can make it. corrections/additions welcome)

1919-20 (?) - Hawk is born

based on tennis trophy which shows year 1936, and hawk's statement that he and kenny were on the tennis team in 11th grade (16/17 years old).

also date on the paperweight (1937) that hawk says kenny picked out on their senior trip. spring or fall though? if spring (usual for a senior trip, just before graduation), it would mean hawk graduated HS in 1937, b. 1919. (thanks, @lestatscunt!)

June 6, 1930 - Tim is born, on Staten Island, NY

birthdate/place shown on army application in ep 5

Gemini, with moon in Libra

>>> With a Gemini Sun Libra Moon, emotional equilibrium is hard for you to maintain in a world of constant flux and tension. Since you are not responsible for the woes and upsets of those around you, you should not feel so duty-bound to assuage their wounds or mediate every conflict that happens to come your way.

>>> your natural diplomacy, extraordinary perception and insight can all be applied creatively in such fields as politics, social work, and the mass media.

>>> your extreme open-mindedness would probably enable you to almost any life-style. You have a universal quality about you that transcends culture, religion, ideology, or any other barrier that divides mankind.

Fall 1937 - Spring 1941 - Hawk attends "Penn", presumably the University of Pennsylvania. (assuming hawk b. 1919)

(this is very very long, the rest is under the cut)

December 7, 1941 - bombing of Pearl Harbor, US enters WWII

??? - Hawk joins the army (along with Kenny), and is sent to Europe. Kenny is sent to the Pacific.

June 1, 1944 - The fall of Velletri (where Hawk got injured), which Hawk talks to Tim about in ep 3. (thanks @doodlingawaits!)

from wiki: The 36th U.S. Infantry Division commanded by General Fred Walker spotted a flaw in the German defenses on Mount Artemisio between Velletri and Valmontone. Between 30 and 31 May 1944, the 142nd and 143rd regiments penetrated the German defenses at Monte Artemisio, and on June 1 Velletri fell.

January 9 – August 15, 1945 - Battle of Luzon, where Kenny dies.

September 2, 1945 - Japan surrenders, US exits WWII

February, 1949 - Hawk starts working at the State Department

Hawk says in 1x04 (Dec 1953) that he's been working at the State Dept for "four years and ten months".

"I came out of the war with four assets: degree from Penn, a hero's war record, no particular political ideology, and a passing acquaintance with three languages. Throw in a talent for prevaricating and a taste for travel and fine clothes, you have the makings of a competent, mid-level Foreign Service bureaucrat."

Fall 1948 - Spring 1952 - Tim attends Fordham University, graduating with a degree in political science and history.

1951 - Hawk starts work for the Bureau of Congressional Relations

Tim mentions Hawk's been working there for two years during their meeting on the bench.

1952 - Tim works "the New York campaign" (presumably for Eisenhower).

1952/3? - Tim interns for three months at the Star, in the mailroom.

November 4, 1952 - Election Night, Eisenhower (R) wins the presidency. Tim/Hawk first meet and are instantly smitten. (ep 1)

February 16, 1953 to March 10, 1954 - McCarthy Hearings, part 1.

The first consisted of a series of hearings conducted by McCarthy, as the subcommittee’s chairman, throughout 1953 and early 1954 in which McCarthy alleged Communist influence within the press and the federal government, including the State Department, the U.S. Army, and the Government Printing Office.

March 5, 1953 - Stalin dies.

Late March, 1953 - Hawk/Tim second meeting

After Hawk meets Tim at the park bench, he attends a hearing where Marcus says Cohn has brought David Schine on, and then later at their lunch Senator Smith says, "McCarthy is sending Cohn and his sidekick to Europe..." This article, dated April 19, says that Cohn and Schine have been in Europe for two weeks.

Hawk mentions that it's near the end of the month, police need to make their quotas.

April 27, 1953 - Executive Order 10450 signed. Hawk goes to Tim's apartment and tells him about Kenny. (ep 1)

June 6, 1953 - Tim's 23rd birthday (Hawk 'misses' it because they weren't talking for 4 weeks. belated celebration in ep 3.)

June 15, 1953 (?) - date of the newspaper Tim is reading just before he goes to visit Hawk in ep 2, where Hawk makes him write the letter to Mary. I'm choosing to believe this is a mistake on the show's part, because this would mean that Hawk has already missed Tim's birthday.

June 19, 1953 - Julius and Ethel Rosenberg's execution. Hawk comforts Lucy about this at the end of ep 2. So, likely Hawk and Tim had their big fight very shortly before Tim's birthday, and weren't talking from end of May - end of June.

End of June, 1953 - at the end of ep 2, Tim says it's been 4 months since his last confession, making his last (proper) confession the end of Feb or beginning of March. (ie, before he meets Hawk again on the park bench).

End of June or beginning of July, 1953 - weekend trip to Rehoboth Beach (ep 3)

November 1953 - G. David Schine drafted into the army (ep 3)

Christmas 1953 (ep 4)

March 16 to June 17, 1954 - Army-McCarthy Hearings (part 2) (ep 5)

The second phase involved the subcommittee's investigation of McCarthy’s attacks on the U.S. Army. Known as the “Army-McCarthy hearings,” they were broadcast on national television and they contributed to McCarthy’s declining national popularity. Five months later, on December 2, 1954, the Senate censured McCarthy.

June 6, 1954 - Tim's 24th birthday

June, 1954? - Tim/Hawk break up, Hawk proposes to Lucy (ep 5)

I believe this happens at the tail-end of the Army-McCarthy hearings, so before June 17th. Unclear when the proposal actually happened though.

Fall, 1954 - Sen. Smith's funeral

based solely on fall foliage in this screenshot:

Late Nov / Early Dec, 1954 - Tim enlists in the army

based on army application: birthdate 6/6/30, age: 24 years, 6 months

Late Nov / Early Dec, 1954 - Hawk/Tim last meeting in the tower

based on the radio program Tim is listening to, which says, "Chief Counsel Roy Cohn has resigned from the committee. And Senator McCarthy, his approval ratings plummeting, faces censure or even expulsion from the Senate." (McCarthy censured Dec 2).

Tim leaves for Fort Dix, for training, but is later stationed at Fort Polk, in Vernon Parish, LA. (thanks, @jesterlesbian!)

December 2, 1954 - the Senate censures McCarthy.

Summer or Fall 1956? - Tim's letter (that lucy burns) (ep 6)

Flashbacks, for context:

"Since he's giving up his apartment, Hawk insists on having a lair in the woods." // "I'm surprised that he finally agreed."

Lucy lets contractor go. // "Give me a baby."

Hawk is reading the Bristol Daily Courier, a paper located in Bristol, PA, a town in Bucks County, outside Philadelphia. I can't find any info on the one headline I can read though ("Heath Carlson breaks arws deadlock, locals proud"), so can't date this properly.

Lucy cleaning out Hawk's apartment, finds paperweight, sees Tim drop off letter. (did she start clearing out the apartment only after the cabin construction was complete? or before?)

"I went into the Army to get away from you. I thought time and distance would help. But it hasn't." If Tim sends the letter in summer 1956, it's been a year and a half since he enlisted.

Biggest question here: did lucy ask for a baby before or after she read Tim's letter??? the flashbacks don't answer this definitively.

October, 1956? - Lucy becomes pregnant with Jackson (see note under April 1957)

October 23 – November 4, 1956 - Hungarian Revolution of 1956

October 23, 1956 - April 30, 1957 - Hungarian Refugee Crisis

November 8, 1956 - Operation Safe Haven commences

President Eisenhower declared that 5,000 Hungarians would be awarded visa numbers remaining under the 1953 Refugee Relief Act

Spring 1957? - Tim sends telegram. It looks like 05-??-???? to me, which doesn't really make sense if McCarthy died on May 2nd, but it's hard to make out. or maybe telegrams used the date format dd-mm-yyyy.

April 1957? - Tim/Hawk first meeting, Lucy at least 5 (or 6? or 7?) months pregnant

You should feel your baby's first movements, called "quickening," between weeks 16 and 25 of your pregnancy. If this is your first pregnancy, you may not feel your baby move until closer to 25 weeks. 

25 weeks ~= 6 months, and it still seems novel to her, so let's say she's approx. 6 months pregnant here.

May 2, 1957 - Joe McCarthy dies.

May 6, 1957 - McCarthy's funeral. Tim's first visit to Hawk's apartment (ep 8)

June 6, 1957 - Tim turns 27.

June or July, 1957 - Jackson born (based on dates above)

1958? - Kimberly is born. (estimated bc she looks the same age or older than Jackson, so assuming she's a year younger at most.)

August, 1965 - President Johnson signs a law making it a federal crime to destroy or mutilate [draft] cards. 

October 15, 1965 -David Miller publicly burns his draft card, becoming the first person to be prosecuted under that law and a symbol of the growing movement against the war.

May 17, 1968 - the Catonsville Nine took 378 draft files from the draft board office in Catonsville, Maryland and burned them in the parking lot. (inspo for Tim & co. thanks @brokendrums!)

November 1968 - ep 6. Hawk is 48-9, Tim is 38, Jackson is 11.

based on this newspaper screenshot when Hawk is talking to Marcus on the phone about Tim, which shows election results (1968 election took place on Nov 5th).

November 1968 - May 1970 (earliest) - Tim in prison. (he says in ep 7 he was in prison for a year and a half. this assumes he went to prison right away, but it could have been several months later if he was awaiting trial/sentencing.)

1970? - After prison, Tim moves to San Francisco and gets his counseling degree.

Mid-late 1970s - Tim earns his C-SWCM qualifications, requiring:

A Bachelor’s degree in social work from a graduate program accredited by the Council on Social Work Education

Documentation of at least three (3) years and 4,500 hours of paid, supervised, post-BSW professional experience in an organization or agency that provides case management services

Current state BSW-level license or an ASWB BSW-level exam passing score.

nb. because Tim already had his bachelors (from Fordham, majoring in history), I could see him entering a much-accelerated BSW program, transfering a lot of credits from his previous degree. That would give him maybe 2 more years of university, plus the required 3 years of post-BSW work = 5 years minimum before he earns that business card.

February 4, 1977 - Fleetwood Mac's album Rumours is released, including the 1970s Tim/Hawk anthem, Go Your Own Way

October, 1978 - Jackson dies

November 27, 1978 - Harvey Milk assassinated

May 20-22, 1979 - Tim on Fire Island (ep 7). Hawk is 59 or 60, Tim is 48, about to turn 49.

May 22, 1979 - Harvey Milk's (posthumous) 49th birthday (celebrated in ep 7)

1986 - ep 8

how long was Hawk in San Francisco? Timelines for the events below may be fudged in the show, bc I doubt he was there for 5 months.

March, 1986 - Roy Cohn's 60 Minutes interview, which the gang watches in ep 4.

April 15, 1986 - US bombs Libya. in the first episode you can hear reference to this on the radio, before Hawk leaves for San Francisco. (thanks @aliceinhorrorland93!)

July 27, 1986 - In California, Gov. George Deukmejian vetoes a bill that would have defined AIDS as a physical handicap calling for entitlement to protection under the state's civil rights laws.

August 2, 1986 - Roy Cohn dies (ep 8)

Late 1986? - the fundraising gala that Tim crashes, shortly after Cohn's death.

September 1986 - The State Legislature has passed another bill [in addition to the one vetoed on July 27]. Mr. Deukmejian, a Republican running for re-election, has indicated that he will probably veto the bill. (nb, this is likely the bill that Tim & co want to pressure the governor to sign).

October 11, 1987 - AIDS memorial quilt first displayed (ep 8)

--

this was a collaborative effort! many thanks to @ishipallthings for many of these details, as well as @startagainbuttercup , @alorchik, @itsalinh and others in the FT discord!

[abiiors]

a midsummer night's dream - matty x reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🔆:✧˚.🍉⋆𖧧🐚

a/n: i will be so honest, there is no plot. the plot is matty and bug being in love for 4.5k words. also alex turner cameo hehehe cw: i'm warning all of you that there's a lot of fade to black smut in this because writing smut is my mortal enemy wc: 4.5k

matty wakes up to a scream on one fine day mid june. 

he scrambles awake, drenched in sweat because it’s already so warm in london, and because the scream is startling. he’s about to run to make sure she’s okay when he hears another one—a squeal this time. a high-pitched, excited sound. 

“bug?” he calls out, his voice scratchy still, “what’s happening?”

footsteps thud on the floor. a moment later the door swings open and she comes into view, laptop balanced precariously in one hand and her eyes as round as saucers. matty sits up on the bed. the covers fall around his waist, exposing his entire torso right down to his happy trail. 

“what—”

“i got it!” she hoists the laptop high up in the air. “that summer gig with arctic monkeys! i got it! i got it, matty, me!” 

matty’s sure his eyes widen an equal amount then, and he jumps off the bed. there he is, standing naked as the day he was born in the middle of their room. the kisses on his chest from the night before have already darkened, leaving a neat little trail from his sternum to just below his belly button. and yet, matty cares about none of it. 

“you got it! fuck, bug—”

“i got it!” she squeals, eyes brimming with tears now that it’s sinking in, and almost chucks the laptop on the bed. none of them care that he’s naked and she’s not. she makes a run at him, jumping into his open arms and wrapping her bare legs around his middle. she even presses a kiss square on his lips, too excited to deepen it. he just twirls them around until they both end up in a heap on the bed. 

“shit!”

“shit!” he laughs. “you’d be in europe all summer, one country after the other. surrounded by hot rockstars—”

“matty!” she chastises even though he can tell she’s busy trying to stifle her shit-eating grin. “i’m going to work. take photos!”

“of hot rockstars,” he bumps his shoulder into hers.

she turns and eyes him properly, from his messy curls to his naked chest and down. he doesn’t shy away from her though, if anything he feels a little smug. 

“i already take photos of hot rockstars,” she giggles, tracing a finger over the tattoo in the centre of his chest. “sexy photos too.”

“oh is that right?” he takes a hold of her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. her day old perfume surrounds him. his too, he realises, is in the mix, clinging to her skin like it’s meant to. “you won’t be here all summer…” he kisses her shoulder and pulls her leg over his waist. 

“i’ll send you postcards,” she giggles, “like we’re in the 90s or something.”

“sexy…postcards?”

she pinches the skin on his stomach lightly making him hiss. “pervert.”

“you’re a photographer, bug,” matty’s mouth moves from her shoulder to her chest, right where the fabric of her cami ends, not exactly where he wants to be. “i’m sure, you can get…creative.”

she quirks an eyebrow. “and what will i get in return, hmm? i’ll be ‘surrounded by hot rockstars’, don’t you forget.”

“oh, all of this isn’t enough?” matty points at his naked body, earning a flirty giggle from her. 

he already feels hot all over again, simmering right beneath his skin, and from the looks of it, she feels it too. gently, she pushes him on his back, climbing on top of him until she’d on his stomach, her ass touching his dick. matty pulls the strings of her shorts and helps her out of them, out of her underwear too. 

“gorgeous,” he murmurs once she chucks her cami somewhere in the corner, entirely naked and on top of him, grinding on his stomach until she’s practically dripping onto him. matty loves it when she uses him like that, when she gets lost chasing her own pleasure and forgets the world around her. 

matty loves looking at her then—now—when her lips are parted and eyes rolled to the back of her head, when her jaw is slack with pleasure and she moves her hips in a hypnotising rhythm. getting herself off on his stomach.

his hand snakes up her naked thigh till he's grabbing her ass. praise after praise tumbles out of his mouth and each one has her moving faster, rocking hips. his head spins from the blood running so fast through his veins. it's electric, to see her like that, to feel her like that. he’s dying to feel her around him too, but right now matty is just content to lie back and watch. 

when she finally finds her release and slumps forward on his chest, breathing hard, matty presses a kiss on her crown. 

“had your fun, didn’t you?”

she hmms, giggling a little. “your turn?”

and of course, he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

the week before she’s set to leave, she makes him sit in front of the dresser, bleach and blue dye held up in her gloved hands. matty’s doing it because she won’t. because she wants to ‘look professional’. and so he agrees to dyeing his hair blue. 

she’s more than happy to do it too, pressing kisses on his bare shoulder and neck every two seconds. matty dips a finger in the dye and flicks her nose, painting it blue. 

“oh i will kill you,” she screeches, giggling away from him when he tries to get more dye on her, on her clothes and skin, and tries to kiss her while he reeks of bleach. 

and even though they're happy, somewhere in the back of his mind he already misses her, even when she’s right here in his arms. 

“i love you…” he murmurs and places a soft kiss on her lips, she indulges for a few seconds before frowning. 

“why did you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like it’s a sad thing.”

she can be quite perceptive when she wants to be. but matty simply shakes his head and hooks a hand under her knees. she laughs so loud when he throws her over his shoulder that it echoes around the house. matty hopes the house traps it, her laughs and her giggles and moans, he’s going to miss hearing it. 

“matty?” she nips his earlobe. 

“hmm?” 

“i love you too. more than you’ll ever know.” 

he doesn’t bother correcting her, or telling her that he knows. he knows because he feels it in all of her touches and her kisses and her smiles. and he knows because no matter how upset he is about spending two months apart, he knows she’s coming home to him at the end of it.

he only sets her down once they get to the bathroom, kissing her so deeply that her whole body reacts to him. the dye on her nose smears against his cheek, the dye on his hair gets on her hands, but matty cannot stop smiling like a fucking idiot. smiling and touching her and kissing her while they shed their clothes and get under the shower. 

the water turns blue instantly, rivulets running under their feet, and matty gets down on his knees. 

“let me…” he breathes, throwing her leg over his shoulder. his mouth is instantly between her legs, hands grabbing onto her thighs and her ass, while he looks up at her. her head is thrown back in ecstasy, fingers tangled in his freshly dyed hair. 

he keeps going until she cums on his tongue and cums again. he keeps going until his knees hurt and the water runs clear. he keeps going until she can quite literally no longer stand. 

then matty picks her up in his arms, and carries her to bed.

“i’ll be in brussels this time tomorrow,” she murmurs next to him the night before she’s set to leave.

it’s so late at night, she should be asleep. he should be asleep too, but he suspects they’re both up thinking the same thing. trying not to toss and turn and wake the other up… matty laughs at the irony. 

“go to bed, bug,” he whispers. “you’ve got to be up by 7.”

she turns to him, barely visible in the moonlight. and yet matty doesn’t need to see her face to know what she’s thinking and how she’s feeling. he simply needs to listen to her breathing as it turns shallow. 

“i do,” she nods and moves closer to him. matty opens up his arms and lets her find a comfy spot until she’s practically on top of him, until they’re one tangled entity. “i’ll be in brussels and you’ll be here.”

“we’ve been apart before,” he replies lamely. 

“that was different! we were just friends then, and…”

“and?”

she shrugs, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder. “and i’d learned to suppress my feelings for you. it was fine then, i was fine!”

matty presses a kiss into her head. “i wasn’t. i missed you everyday.”

“liar!”

“i’d never lie to you, bug,” he giggles. “and i know it’s different now, but we have options. i can call you everyday, text you 24/7, fuck, i could show up to any country you’re in. it’s only europe, you’re right here!”

she laughs, and matty can hear the wobble in it. a second later, wetness touches his shoulder. “i don’t think the band does ‘bring your boyfriend to work’ days.”

“alex would love to have me around,” he teases. 

that makes her snort properly. “you’re such a fanboy, it’s adorable.”

“rude!” he flicks her forehead. “go to bed now, i don’t want you feeling like a zombie tomorrow.”

she doesn’t respond after that, she just snuggles more into him, drawing circles on his arm until eventually her breathing deepens and her fingers stop moving. matty doesn’t sleep a wink though. he stays awake playing with her hair, fingers trying to memorise its softness, the precise texture of it. it’s only when the sky is on the verge of twilight does he manage to fall asleep. 

it’s a quick, dreamless sleep, over like a flash in the pan, and before he knows it, her alarm goes off and matty groans awake.

she���s waking up too, eyes still closed and face so sleepy and soft that matty wants to tuck her back in bed and not let her go. but no matter how hard he wishes for it, she has to go. it’s a good opportunity for her, it will be so good for her career. 

and yet and yet and yet. 

matty sighs and places a kiss on her head. 

“bug? you up?”

she mumbles sleepily. matty laughs. 

“come on, you won’t be ready in time if you don’t wake up now.”

and that’s how they go back and forth—matty tries to coax her out of bed, she mumbles something and buries her face wherever she can, until finally he manages to shake her hard enough. 

it’s funny to him how she stomps to the bathroom and comes out as a completely new person once she’s had her shower. he’s ready for her though, two steaming mugs of coffee in hand. it’s the last time they will sit across from each other and have coffee for two months. last time before he’s sentenced to seeing her face on a tiny phone screen. 

“you’re not gonna cry are you?” her eyes widen, and matty schools his face back into a smile. “if you cry, i’ll cry and then none of us is going anywhere.”

“i’m not a crybaby, love,” he flicks her nose, kissing it straight after. “i’ll miss you though. more than you’ll ever know.”

there’s not much he can say that won’t make him actually start crying. so he just enjoys the coffee with her and holds her close. he stays there, for as long as she needs until she has to finally get up and get ready to leave.

“matty, look!” she holds up a snail to the phone screen, eyes bright, excited. “i’m having snails.” then she puts on an exaggerated french accent. “escargot!”

matty laughs. “you don’t even like them, bug.”

“i do when they’re given to me in bed by room service.”

he briefly looks away from her face and behind her. there’s not much of a view, just the fancy headboard and a nightstand littered with jewellery and contact lens case and her frayed old headphones. matty smiles at it fondly and looks at the nightstand on her side of their bed—it’s empty, clean. he feels a pang in his chest. 

matty looks back at her just in time to watch her make a face.

“okay maybe i’ll have them later,” she tries not cringe, he just snickers at her. 

a bit later once she’s done eating, she gives him a tour of the room. it’s much of the same really, similar to the rooms she’d stayed in in rome and milan and berlin. he’s no stranger to any of it either, and yet he gives her his full attention, cooing at the view from her window even though they can barely see the eiffel tower. she looks happy about it, and so he is too. 

“how was you day?” she asks once they’ve both settled in bed. 

matty sighs, “much of the same really. worked a bit, then worked out a bit and now i’m talking to you.”

he doesn’t say that he could barely eat because he hates eating alone and misses her so bad. he doesn’t tell her that he forced george to be on call with him while he ate his sad little dinner of day old pizza and some chicken tenders. 

“worked out,” she waggles her eyebrows, “gonna be fit before i come back to you?”

“for you? maybe.”

her breath quivers a little and matty sees the precise second her face shifts from a teasing smirk to something a little more intense. he sits up too, propped against his pillow. and sure it is july, the nights have already grown hotter, but something tells him the heat in the room is not because of that. 

“did i show you photos from the show?” 

“of alex?” matty raises a brow and she rolls her eyes, biting her lip a little. 

“of me, idiot! was dressed like a proper 2013 arctic monkeys fan.”

he can see the image so clearly—her in a black mini-skirt and knee socks—and when she sends him a few photos his guess is confirmed. except there’s also her tight-fitting t-shirt that shows off everything matty wishes he could touch right now. he lets out a shaky breath, swiping through the photos. 

“you like them?” her voice is shier than before, matty smirks.

“you look like a fantasy,” he breathes down the line, already half hard in his pyjama shorts. her breathy, seductive giggle doesn’t help matters. matty can’t help but palm himself lightly at the sound, imagining doing things to her in that tiny little skirt. 

“what are you thinking?,” she speaks into the phone, mischief dancing in her tone.

“what do you want me to think?”

she twirls a little strand of hair around her finger, one long fingernail combing through her soft hair. he’s been dying to touch them again, dying to feel her fingernails scratch on his back while she moans and screams his name over and over again. 

she touches her lips subconsciously, and that’s pretty much the last straw for him. 

“what were you doing?” he asks. and then, pulls down his shorts. 

he’s painfully hard by now, aching and desperate to feel her around him. but she’s a million kilometres away, alone and cold in a foreign bed and not in his arms like she should. so he has no other option but to touch himself like a sixteen year old boy. the thought of her doing just the same drives him insane. 

“nothing. just wondering what you’d do if you would have seen me in that outfit.”

he hears her breath quiver over the last words.

“you want to know?” matty wraps a hand around the base of his cock, letting her uneven breathing wash over him. this is so horny and reckless. he can’t even go a few weeks without her for fuck’s sake…

but he can’t help himself, not when it comes to her. 

“touch yourself like i would,” he says, “and then i’ll tell you everything i want to do to you…”

the phone sex doesn’t stop after that. if anything it opens up so many new avenues for him. almost every night a week, while he’s in the same old bed and she’s in a different bed each time, matty finds himself spilling in his own hand, wishing it was her hand, her face, her stomach. wishing it was her. 

sex aside he misses her so dearly it’s like a hole has been carved in his chest precisely big enough to fit her. 

“alex was so good today!” she squeals down the phone one night while she’s in madrid. 

better than me? he almost says but keeps the words to himself. it’s jealousy rearing its ugly head, nothing more.

“oh yeah?”

she frowns at his disinterested tone. “you alright?”

“i’m just tired, bug.” matty runs a hand over his face, “i just want to sleep.”

“oh.”

her small voice instantly makes him open his eyes. she’s smiling at him, of course she is, but he can tell when her smiles are fake and when they are real. and the one right now is stretched so forcefully over her face that he wonders if it hurts.

“no, no,” he shakes his head, “i can stay up for a bit, it’s no big deal.”

“are you sure?”

he hates that he’s made her feel so unsure. of course he wants to stay awake and talk to her, all night if it weren’t for the fact she has busy days and long hours to work. 

the sun hasn’t even properly set yet and she’s already in bed, looking quite tired if he’s being honest. she looks different than he’d last seen her too, suntanned and freckled—probably after spending fun afternoons at the beach with all these attractive people all around her—

stop it.

“we should go to the beach when you come back.” matty changes the topic abruptly. “just us, a proper beach day. it will be fun i think.”

“yeah?”

she settles deeper under her covers, resting her phone against a pillow so she won’t have to hold it upright. matty does the same, sleeping on his side. if he fools himself enough, it’s like they’re sleeping side by side again. if he fools himself, she’s back in his arms, snuggled up with him no matter how hot it is. 

“you look so sleepy, bug,” he laughs, touching his phone screen like he’s caressing her cheek. “oh wait, a snug bug.”

“poetry,” she snorts, stifling a yawn. “i’m fine matty, i wanna talk to you. tomorrow’s a busy day, dunno if i can even text you all day.”

his mood sours instantly, but he tries not to show it on his face. she is working. this is not some holiday where she can set time aside to call and text him. besides he’s seen some of her photos posted on the band’s social media—her hard work shines through instantly. and ever time he sees them, pride swells in his chest. 

“do you want to hear something george and i came up with the other day?”

she nods, pulling the covers up to her chin. 

matty doesn't waste more time explaining what it is, he just starts humming. it’s at the very beginning stages of its creation—a song inspired by this summer—and yet, the more he hums, the more the melody just comes to him. the lyrics are gibberish, mostly just a lot of oohs and hmms but it’s accomplishing the goal he’s set out with. 

her eyes droop more and more with each passing second, breathing deepening more, until he’s almost at the end of the song and she’s fast asleep.

her mouth is parted like always, hands tucked under her chin and knees pulled up to her chest like she’s preserving warmth even on a summer night. he wonders if she feels cold in hotel rooms, he wonders if she misses him just as much as he misses her, so strong it keeps him up at night sometimes, touching her side of the bed and her pillow. 

he doesn’t hang up though. he stays on call, watching her sleep. he stays on call until she’s completely unmoving and unaware of anything else happening around her. he stays on call until her phone dies eventually and his screen goes black. then he cradles the device to his chest like it’s trapped her essence. and maybe it has. 

when matty falls into a restless sleep that night, he only dreams of her.

the dreams become a permanent fixture. not like he’s complaining, not when he’s sleeping anyway. but then he has to wake up to the bleak reality that she’s not here, day after day, week after week.

they talk on the phone every single day of course, and with each passing day he knows her homecoming gets closer. somehow it’s harder. 

days before she’s supposed to come, matty’s in a mood so foul that he doesn’t even call her. he just makes up some silly excuse and skips out on it. 

her :( text makes him feel worse, but all he does is get in bed at 8 pm when it’s still light outside, and bury himself under blankets no matter how hot it is. 

somewhere hours later, he falls into an uneasy sleep. 

“shh, go back to sleep,” matty feels the bed dip in the wee hours of the morning, her voice a hoarse whisper. it’s a dream, his sleep-addled brain tells him, it’s another dream fueled by loneliness and missing her and being so so cold every night. it’s—

“baby?”

“hmm?”

“you’re not cold, are you?” she slides in behind him, still fully clothed. her soft, worn jeans rub against his thigh, then she drapes a bare arm over him. “you’ve got goosebumps.”

“you’re a dream,” matty mumbles, sleep coating each word. her deep laugh resonates all around him, surrounding him like a warm blanket. 

“am i?” she kisses the shell of his ear. “how do you know?”

sleep threatens to take him under once again in the comfort of her arms. the feel of her hair brushing against is shoulder is familiar, it smells like her—like peaches and lilies. matty smiles to himself, this is by far the most realistic dream his brain has produced all summer. 

“hey,” she kisses his shoulder, sending butterflies fluttering in his stomach. 

“you’re a dream…” matty repeats, “because i’ve had this dream before.”

“oh yeah?” he feels himself being pulled into a chest—so solid and real and warm. her fingers dance on his arms, from his shoulder to his elbow and back up, tickling just a little—not enough to fully wake him up, but definitely enough to hold him there, suspended in a limbo between sleep and consciousness. “what happens in your dream?”

“you come into our bed…”

“like this?” the smile in her voice is prominent. 

“mm-hmm,” matty nods and turns, eyes closed, face burrowed into her chest now. her scent surrounds him stronger than before, with new things added to it—faint smell of coffee and the outdoors in general. he can feel his face squished between her boobs, which isn’t a new detail as far as his dreams go, but his brain has certainly upped the quality of it tonight. 

it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream, matty chants in his head over and over again till the words meld into each other and turn gibberish. 

“and then?” her voice cuts through his spiral. 

“and then you hold me, bug”

“i am holding you…” he feel her nod, and yet her arms tighten, cuddling him closer. the next time she speak, matty feels the vibrations of her voice running through his chest, passing through his heart. 

“and then?”

instead of answering, he focuses on her fingers—up and down, up and down. from his shoulder to his elbow and back up. “sometimes you touch me,” he breathes into the crook of her neck, “other times you hold me until i wake up.” his voice is muffled, barely audible. it’s alright, though. she’s just a dream, a figment of his imagination, a part of him. how could she ever not understand him?

“i touch you?” she laughs, a little giggly, and matty nods. “how do i touch you?”

he takes her hand in his, traces the pads of her fingers, the lines on her palm. then he places her hands on his bare chest—smooth, small fingers touching his ribs, trailing downward toward his stomach and his belly button. matty sighs. “you touch me like that. like you do when you’re really here…”

“matty, i am really here!” she laughs, kissing his head this time. her thumb moves in circles on his collarbone. “open your eyes, ‘m right here.”

“‘s a trick,” he mumbles. a moment later his mouth finds the hollow of her throat. her skin is slightly cold to the touch, halfway to warming up. against his lips he feels the chain she always wears, like she’s come back home and gotten straight into bed. matty scoffs, what a strange thought. 

“you’ll disappear if i open my eyes. and i want you to stay. i miss you…” he says, “i can’t wait two more days till you’re home.”

“you don’t have to,” she giggles—it’s a giddy, breathless sound that makes him smile too. 

“you’re a good dream,” matty holds onto her tight, relishing how solid she feels in his arms. “the best dream i’ve ever had.”

her hands move over his body again until they’re on his face, cradling his cheek. then he feels her tilting his chin up, feels her lips on his—just one tiny, soft kiss. she smiles against his mouth, says something too but the words don’t fully register in his mind. 

“i’ll see you soon,” matty murmurs, properly sleepy now, unable to hold on for much longer. 

“you will,” her voice holds a promise. “go to sleep now, i can’t wait to see you in the morning.”

he chuckles at her words. just before sleep properly drags him under, he places his hand on her cheek, feels the familiar soft skin under his palm and hears her sigh. 

“and you’ll be here in the morning?” he teases, “will you be here as a daydream, bug?”

she threads her fingers through his hair, playing with them till it’s impossible to hold on to consciousness. just as he’s about to slip under, he hears her exhale. “i’ll be here as anything you want me to be,” she murmurs, kissing the crown of his head. 

matty succumbs to sleep.

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @indierockgirrl @tonguepiercedanyway75 @if-my-heart-bleeds @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny @wrongendofyourcigarettte

add yourself to / remove yourself from the taglist

[ironworked]

Hen Begins timeline

"Ah, since the meltdown in '08, everybody's been cutting back.", says one of Hen's co-workers (2.09)

"Gina dragged me to that vampire movie." (2.09): New Moon was released on November 20, 2009 and remained in theaters until at least the end of March. Eclipse came out on June 30, 2010 and lasted on theaters until at least mid October.

"Senate votes 63 to 31 to repeal 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell.'" (6.06): Hen and Karen celebrate the repeal (December 2010) when they're already living together.

"I'm a Black lesbian that joined the fire department at 30" (4.03); "Last time I saw Clive was 1978 [...] I couldn't walk out on the father of my child." (5.09) -> Hen was born in 1978 or 1979, so it's likely she'd be 30 in 2009.

"After 13 years in the same firehouse, why would I know - what supplies we need?" (5.03)

“When I first entered this department, Captain Gerrard didn't even see me as a firefighter. And now, 12 years later," (6.01) -> this is a quote that doesn't quite fit, because it would put Hen starting out in '11, but it's not far off.

Circumstantial 'evidence': It's raining on every call and every time we can see the outside from the firehouse (and they make a point to note how 'rare' it is "it's nice in the sunroom when it's raining. Which is, like, once a decade now."). They don't imply or mention a 'significant' passage of time; we only see Hen meet up with Athena and her friends once ("Three of us we get together once a month, swap war stories."), no montages or timestamps or mention of holidays, and on the contrary, many scenes are connected in time:

Hen arrives during the day, there's a 'raining outside' transition shot, then they all arrive at the station after a call:

Next they're eating, a fade to black, and another transition (still raining, as we can see thanks to the window and the transition shot) this time to night and into the next 9-1-1 callers:

We follow the mudslide call, fade to black, another 'raining in LA' transition shot, and come back to Hen and Chim doing the dishes:

Next up, another transition shot showing a lightening sky with, you guessed it, more rain. From there we get Gerrard berating Hen (gif edited for length; also notice it's still raining!) followed by the 118 leaving on another call, without her. Jump to her dinner with Athena and friends:

The end of that dinner segues into Hen's speech, and then straight to the next call (limo accident). The end of that call fades to black. Lastly we get Hen arriving at the station the next day ('Yo, Wilson. Nice work yesterday') to find Gerrard gone:

After her talk with the Commander and then with Chim, they get called to another accident (and, poetically, it has stopped raining).

--

So we have a period of time from end of November 2009 to December 2010. In that time, Hen worked under Gerrard, and later made friends with Chim, and 'met-dated-moved in' with Karen. Which part of that lasted longer?

Next we have this:

"They're trying to recruit women now, you know?" + "8 women were recruited, and 3 of them make it through the academy" + "the mayor wants to say that female recruitment is up" "Since you've started working here, we've received numerous complaints. [...] It's not just complaints we're receiving. Your colleagues all have some pretty complimentary things to say about you. You've made quite an impression. [...] Why would we do that [fire Hen]? You're the future of the LAFD."

What makes sense to me, is that since the LAFD was making efforts to increase diversity they probably acted fast to oust Gerrard when the 118 started making noise, to avoid the possible bad publicity.

See what happened with Buck's lawsuit:

Bobby: You're gonna get a call tomorrow from the Chief; You're being reinstated to active duty. The brass didn't want the headache, they're afraid of the bad press. [3.05]

So, I would say Hen worked under Gerrard for a few shifts.

Thoughts? corrections?

I know that 911's timeline is hmm dot-on-Jeremy-Bearimy-coded, but this one actually made sense to me.

-

9-1-1 Episode Transcripts

[hollowed-theory-hall]

what's the timeline regarding when tom opened the chamber of secrets vs when he killed his father? it's around the same time right? do we hav exact sequence in canon? do you. have ideas about it?

Okay, so let's go through the timeline of Tom Riddle's life at Hogwarts:

(I love talking about Tom Riddle, can you tell?)

So, Tommy was born on December 31st, 1926.

This means he'd celebrate his 11th birthday on December 31st, 1937, so he'd start his first year at Hogwarts on September 1st, 1938.

And Tom says this:

I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn’t possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance . . .

(CoS, 288)

So, he would be in his 5th year when he first opened the Chamber of Secrets. From the math above, his 5th year started in September 1942 and ended in June 1943.

We know Myrtle died on June 13th, 1943, so right at the end of Tom's 5th year at school (fitting the "five whole years" statement). When Tom shows Harry the memory of Myrtle's death it's on the diary page for June 13th:

The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a minuscule television screen

(CoS, 225)

Tom then asks Dippet to stay at Hogwarts, which Dipept declines. I also assume June 1943 is when Tom turns the diary into a Horcrux.

Now, we know that the summer Tom is sixteen (he turned sixteen in December 1942), the summer between his 5th and 6th year (July-Agust of 1943), is when he killed his father and stole the Gaunt ring:

Finally, after painstaking research through old books of Wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin’s surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives. And now, Harry, if you will stand . . .”

(HBP, 363)

We see that by 6th year (1943-1944), Tom already has the Gaunt ring:

Half a dozen boys were sitting around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seats than his, and all in their mid-teens. Harry recognized Voldemort at once. His was the most handsome face and he looked the most relaxed of all the boys. His right hand lay negligently upon the arm of his chair; with a jolt, Harry saw that he was wearing Marvolo’s goldand-black ring; he had already killed his father.

(HBP, 369)

This means by the time he had his talk with Sughorn he had two Horcruxes: the diary and the ring. In the scene with Slughorn Harry mentions Tom isn't the oldest student and he's referred to by Slughorn as a prefect, not a head boy, so it's not his 7th year.

I have a whole series about Tom Riddle and I talked more about this timeline situation there. But this is an overview of his Hogwarts timeline.

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionately and Deeply

~Chapter Three, Other Edition~

I just wanted to thank everyone for engaging with my fanfic this far, and getting to the prologue over 70+ notes! It warms my heart that so many people like this series! I'll be putting out a masterlist when I release the fifth chapter.

Also there may be more than a few grammatical errors in here, feel free to ignore those.

Anyway, like always, I hope you enjoy!

New to the series? Read the prologue.

The air is warmer, the grass is greener, and my ties to this town are only becoming deeper.

Being with Ford on that fateful night took away nearly every fear I had. I felt like as long as I had him, nothing would stand in my way in life.

I think he pretty much confirmed the same thing with me.

And I couldn’t be happier about that.

Since then, we’ve been hanging out regularly. He’s shown me quite a few of the abnormal beings in this charming yet peculiar town. Among them were the plaidypus, the beard cubs (which were actually kinda cute), and the question quails (which were unquestionably adorable). Ford claims that there are dangerous beings that reside here, but the ones that I’ve seen have been rather innocuous. I actually scooped up the icicle mice from this winter and put them in my freezer so that they’ll live.

In other news, his grand-niblings are on their way to visit him and his family up here in a few hours. They’ll be staying for the whole summer.

Melody had her child, which was a boy. She named him Jesús Alzamirano Ramirez Jr., right after Soos.

They’re such a sweet couple, and now a sweet family. I hope they have a prosperous life.

Abuelita is smitten over her new bisnieto, or her great-grandson. He is quite adorable, after all. He was born on April 4th, and he’ll be two months old on the 4th.

I even got to hold him several times when I visited. My baby fever was hidden in the back of my mind, but that adorable baby boy brought it out again. On my days off of work, I would make my way to the shack and just tend to him while his primary familial unit rested up.

Ford seems to like the little bean, too. Although he doesn’t really strike me as someone who would like babies, he really took a liking to him.

“You’re so good with that little tyke,” he told me.

I smiled up at him while holding the little bean. “Thanks,” I said. “I always wanted children, and to be a mother.”

Ford’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Truly? You never mentioned it.”

I smiled back down at the sweet baby in my arms. “It never came up,” I told him. “Not until this sweet boy came into our lives. I truly believe that all babies are sent from Heaven.”

Ford smiled. “On an unrelated note, how old are you again?” he asked.

I playfully raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask about a lady’s age?” I asked, playfully indignant. “I’ll be twenty seven in seven days.”

“Ah, so you’re a gemini like me,” he said. “My great niece told me about the zodiac signs and everything related to them.”

“Oh really? When’s your birthday then?” I asked.

“Stanley’s and my birthday is in two weeks from today, on the 15th of June,” he said.

“The twins have the twins zodiac. How about that,” I said, chuckling.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a twin, would you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“What a shame. I thought I would be able to set her up with Stanley,” Ford joked.

I playfully raised an eyebrow. “Who said my twin would be a woman?” I said.

Both of us just stared at each other before we softly broke out laughing.

All of a sudden, the door slammed open, and I saw two teenagers at the door, one boy and one girl.

The girl had medium brown curly hair that reached her mid back, the same copper brown eyes as Stan and Ford, and donned a purple headband with parted fringe bangs. Her sweater (why was she wearing a sweater in June?) was the same purple color as her headband and had spelled out MABEL, and wore a hot pink skirt that reached just a little below mid thigh, with dark purple almost black stockings, and some purple doc martens on. She was about average height.

The boy had a tan and dark brown lumberjack hat, the same medium brown curly hair and copper brown eyes as his sister, with long bangs that nearly covered his eyes. He wore a red flannel plaid shirt, blue jeans and timberlands. He was also about average height, which… kind of surprised me. Seeing that he was related to Stan and Ford, I thought he would be taller.

That doesn’t matter that much, though.

What matters is that this sweet baby boy started crying when both of them busted through the door. I shushed him, trying to soothe him.

“We’re here!” the girl yelled as Ford shushed her. She lowered her head. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Who’re you?” the boy asked.

“Dipper, my boy, meet my good friend,” Ford said my name, introducing me to his great nephew. “Come here, Mabel, I want you to meet her, too.”

“Woah, nice to meet you! I’m Mabel! Grunkle Ford never said anything about his lady friend being so pretty,” Mabel introduced herself to me as I chuckled and Ford scratched the back of his head.

I can see where she gets her electrifying personality from.

“Nice to meet you too, dear,” I told her, this sweet baby finally settling down back into slumber.

“My name’s Dipper,” Dipper introduced himself. “Is that Soos’ son or is that your own child?”

I shook my head. “It’s his child. I’m just watching him while he, Melody, and Abuelita rest.”

“Woah, can I hold him? Please please please? I promise I’ll be extra careful!”

“Not yet, darling. Go wash your hands before you touch him. His immune system is very fragile right now,” Ford told Mabel. Mabel dashed to the sink, and Dipper walked, following her.

“So they are your niece and nephew,” I remarked.

Ford turned to me and nodded. “Yes. Besides this little tyke, they are the closest thing to being my own children.”

I smiled as I turned my gaze back to the sweet baby in my arms. “Did you ever want children, Ford?”

“Not particularly, no,” he said. “I was focused on my work. In a way, everything I’ve worked on, and currently working on are my progeny. But now… I think it’s far too late for me to be a father.”

“That’s a fascinating way to put it,” I told him. “And you never know! You might find someone to procreate with.”

Mabel and Dipper both entered the living room, and Mabel made grabby hands towards Jesús. “Lemme see him~!” she said in her baby voice.

I handed him to her, and she was completely enamored by his baby charm. “Hi buddy. It’s your cousin, Mabel,” she said softly.

I guess when the moment really calls for it, she can be quiet.

“So…” Dipper said my name. “Or do you prefer Miss? Ms? Ma’am?”

I chuckled. “You can say my name, it’s alright, Dipper,”

“Good!” Dipper cleared his throat. “I-I mean, good. I just have a few questions for you.”

“I have a few questions for you, too!” Mabel declared. The baby in her arms cried again.

“My dear, let me take the little tyke while you… speak,” he said, taking Jesús in his arms.

Mabel led me upstairs and Dipper followed us into the attic, where they were sleeping. It smelled like dust mites and moth balls.

They couldn’t have gotten something more appealing for these kids? Honestly.

I’m busting Ford’s ass about this later.

“So…” Dipper said my name. “What is your occupation?”

I told both of them what I did.

“What about before you came to Gravity Falls? What did you do? Where did you live? Did you graduate from university?”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Jeez Dipper, it’s like you never had a conversation before! It sounds like an interview!”

“Mabel, these are important things I need to know about Great Uncle Ford’s new girlfriend,” he said.

I raised a finger to refute. “Well, actually-”

“Dipper, c’mon!” she whined before turning to me. “I’m sorry for Dipper, he doesn’t know how to have a proper conversation with a lady.”

“Wha- hey!”

“Aaaaanyway, I have more important questions to ask you than the stuffy questions my brother asked! I need to know: Do you like pigs or tardigrades?” Mabel said, narrowing her eyes at me comically.

“Well, I’d have to say pigs. Tardigrades are cute, but I never interacted with one,” I told her.

Mabel squealed. “Oh, this is great! Let me get Waddles!” she said, running out of the room.

“Oh great. Now you’ve set her off,” Dipper said. “Anyway, back to my questions. How old are you?”

I playfully smiled. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask for a lady’s age?” I asked, testing how strong his resolve was.

Dipper scratched the back of his neck. “I-I’m sorry, ma’am, I just-”

I smiled softly. “Listen Dipper, I understand you care for your great uncle, but speaking to me like this seems a little… out of character for you, if that makes sense,” I told him.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Just from the small amount of interaction I had from you, you’re clearly an intelligent young man,” I told him, his cheeks becoming a little red. “But your confidence is lacking. To make up for that, you overcompensate with a dour tone. I almost felt animosity coming from you in your questions, even though I know it’s not how you want to come across.”

“Wow… how did you get all of that?” Dipper asked.

I smiled. “I’ve been on this Earth for quite some time, dear. Most of the time, I can tell when someone isn’t being authentic.”

“Well… can I at least ask why you’re dating my grunkle?” Dipper asked.

I laughed. “Oh, that is hilarious,” I told him. “Hon, I’m not dating your great uncle. We’re just really good friends,” I told him. “If you ask him, he would say the same thing.”

Dipper breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. It’s still kinda questionable, but that’s a lot better.”

I smiled as Mabel came back in with a lean yet rotund pink pig with a cute nose and round cheeks. She said my name. “Meet Waddles!” she said, as Waddles let out a happy squeak.

I smiled. “What a cute little guy,” I said, slowly moving closer to him. “Hey Waddles.”

He sniffed my hand, and then nuzzled his head into my hand. I scratched just above his ears, and he was panting like a dog.

I think he enjoys it.

“Wow! He loves you already! How did you know his favorite scratching spot?” Mabel asked.

“Mabel, all over his body is his favorite scratching spot. He loves pets,” Dipper said.

“True, true,” Mabel said, sitting in front of me and next to her twin brother, crossing her legs. “Now then, where were we in our interview?”

“Actually… I want to take a different approach,” Dipper said, looking back at me.

Mabel turned her head curiously, looking at her brother. “Yeah? How?” she asked, looking back at me.

“Let’s get psychological,” Dipper said, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Hell yeah! Psychological warfare!” Mabel exclaimed.

Suddenly, the door opened to the attic, and Stan was in the doorway. “Psychological warfare? Ya don’t gotta tell me twice!” he said, taking a seat on the bed next to his great nephew, looking at me.

I was starting to sweat a little bit. Hopefully, they didn’t see it.

“I guess the main thing I’m worried about is that… well… you and Great Uncle Ford seem so friendly. I’ve never seen him like that with a stranger,” Dipper told me.

“I am a stranger to you, but not to your great uncle,” I reminded him.

“And that’s fine and all, but… how long have you known him?” Dipper asked.

“It’ll be four months on our birthday. Or maybe the day before? I dunno, somewhere around there,” Stan chimed in.

Mabel gasped. “You’ve cracked our Grunkle Ford in four months?!” she asked incredulously.

“I wouldn’t put it that way…” I told her.

“Yeah,” Stan surprisingly agreed with me. “It was more like one week.”

Mabel stared at me, awestruck. “One week?!” she shrieked, making me jump a little.

I nodded bewilderedly. Mabel screamed as if she were fangirling. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh~!”

“Mabel, get a hold of yourself!” Stan said.

“But c’mon Grunkle Stan! She’s exactly what Grunkle Ford needs! Do you really want him to rot in his lab all day, with no companion?” Mabel asked him.

Stan rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh brother.”

Mabel stood up and nearly lunged at me. I nearly jumped out of my seat. “But seriously! You need to teach me your secrets! If you were able to charm Grunkle Ford in a week, you’re on the same level as a succubus in terms of charm and seduction!” She exclaimed.

I raised an eyebrow, deciding to play along with her. “Why does a young lady like you need to know about seduction?” I asked.

Mabel cleared her throat. “I am sixteen years old!” she boasted proudly, puffing her chest.

Dipper raised his index finger. “Almost seventeen,” he chimed in. “But Mabel, c’mon. Let us have at least a semi-serious conversation without you trying to make friends with her.”

Mabel turned around and blew a raspberry at her brother. “Boo! You’re so boring sometimes, Dipper!”

She sat back down next to her brother, and crossed her legs again.

“Now then, where were we…” Dipper trailed off.

“We were talkin’ about how long my brainiac brother and her knew each other,” Stan reminded him.

Dipper’s eyes lit up before he snapped his fingers. “Right!” His gaze zeroed in on me. “My point in asking that question was because Great Uncle Ford didn’t really begin to trust us until Mabel got that unicorn hair for him.”

I looked at the three of them quizzically. Unicorns are real? Or was this just the overactive imagination of teenagers?

“Kid, she’s from a normal town. Unicorns probably are a myth where she’s from,” Stan told Dipper.

I nodded. “Or so I thought… but after seeing some of the oddities Gravity Falls has to offer, I’d say I believe in the existence of unicorns,” I told them.

Mabel had a super serious face on. “Then believe me when I say that they are so condescending,” Mabel said.

Holy crap. I thought unicorns were supposed to be pure hearted or whatever? Now I’m hearing the opposite?

Nothing really is as it seems in Gravity Falls…

“Mabel, focus!” Dipper said in a tone of frustration.

Mabel shook her head. “Right! Sorry…” she said. “The point Dipper is trying to make is that it took Grunkle Ford so long for him to trust us that he’s shook that Grunkle Ford was so friendly to you within a week.”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, did you mean shocked?” I asked.

Mabel shook her head. “Nope. Dipper was shook,” she doubled down on her grammatically incorrect statement.

That must be the slang the kids came up with these days. Now that I’m an adult myself, I understand how my grandmother felt when I used slang terms.

“While you’re right, Sister, you know that ‘shook’ has been out for a while. No one except you uses it anymore,” Dipper said.

“Oh, you’re just salty that I finally used it right!” Mabel said.

“Oh, does that mean he’s weird?” I asked.

Dipper looked at me like I had three heads, but Mabel gave me a gentle pat on my arm.

“That was a good guess,” she said, before returning to sit with her brother.

“That… wasn’t even close,” he said.

I scratched my cheek as I felt both of them become hot. “I guess I’m showing my age, then.”

“Actually, speaking of which, how old are you? You look pretty young for someone trying to go after our great uncle.”

“Oh my gosh, Dipper!” Mabel exclaimed. “You can’t just ask a woman how old she is! That’s rude!”

“Actually, I wanna know how old this vixen is. How old are you?” Stan asked me.

“Grunkle Stan~!” Mabel whined.

“Can it, Mabel! We need answers!”

“I’ll be twenty seven a week from today,” I told them.

“Shit, kid… you’re a lot younger than I thought,” Stan said.

“Wow, that’s… controversial,” Dipper added.

“What do you mean?”

Dipper shook his head. “The fact that you’re friends with my Grunkle, and he’s in his sixties…”

“That shouldn’t matter. But with that being said,” I started. “I understand that you just want to make sure your great uncle is being safe, and I totally understand that. I haven’t hurt him, nor do I intend on consciously hurting him.”

“Bah! Your words mean nothing! How the hell are we gonna trust ya?” Stan asked.

Mabel stood up again, and stepped forward. “I’ll be the judge of that!”

“Mabel, sweetie, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Stan said. “This is a strange woman that you, I, and your brother don’t know.”

“So let’s get to know her, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel said, determination in her voice. “If she’s so bad, you need to give me at least one reason why I shouldn’t hang out with her. If it's for a decent reason, then I’ll stop.”

“Well… uh… urm…” Stan stammered.

So why the hell doesn’t he like me?

“Then it’s settled!” Mabel turned to me, saying my name. “We’re going to be great friends! I can feel it!”

Seeing this vibrant young lady in front of me blazed in determination, I couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s be friends.”

“Yay! Friendship, friendship, friendship~”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too happy, pumpkin,” Stan said, standing up. “I’ll find a flaw in her, and when I do, you’re gonna know that I’m right.”

Mabel smiled. “Okay, Grunkle Stan,” she told him. As he walked to the door, he opened it, and Ford was standing there, looking indignant.

“Oh… well, uh, shit,” Stan said. “How long ya been there, Poindexter?”

“Long enough,” he seethed in a low tone. He pushed past his brother, and entered into the attic and went towards Mabel.

“Thank you for giving her a chance, my darling,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Mabel gave a half smile.

He then turned to Dipper. “Dipper, my boy. Come with me to my laboratory. You too,” he said my name. We both stood up, then went down to his lab. The way to get down to his lab was so cool. I marvel at it every time.

Using a vending machine to hide the entrance way was so innovative, inconspicuous and just overall ingenious.

And using symbols that aren’t seen in everyday life? Brilliant!

Once we descended to the deepest level, we got off of the elevator. Ford then turned around and placed his hands behind his back.

“Dipper… do you not trust my judgement?” Ford asked him, hurt palpable in his voice.

“Great Uncle Ford, what do you mean? Of course I do!” Dipper reassured him.

“You must not,” Ford said. “You, along with my brother, think that I am not able to detect a bad person when I see them.”

“Wha- are you talking about-”

Ford cut him off. “Yes, I am.”

“Great Uncle Ford, it was never my intention to make you feel like your judgement was off… even though you trusted Bill… but that’s in the past. Your judgement has been sharp since then!” Dipper tried to assuage him.

Who is Bill? What did he do? What happened?

I have a mountain of questions right now, and I don’t think I’m gonna have any of them answered in the near future.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that, my boy. She is a good person, and I was able to promptly pick up on that,” Ford clarified.

“But how do you know, Great Uncle Ford? How do you know that she is a good person?”

Ford was about to open his mouth, but I stepped in front of him, then turned to face Dipper.

“Dipper… I know you don’t trust me now…” I started. “But the only way you’ll know for sure is if you spend time with me. Your sister has already put her faith in me, and it would mean a lot to me if you could, too.”

Dipper studied my face, searching for a trace of insincerity. Upon finding none, he finally nodded.

“Fine. I’ll spend some time with you, like my sister will,” he finally spoke. “But if I find that you’re using him just like Bill… I will never forgive myself.”

I nodded determinedly at Dipper. “You can trust me, Dipper. You’ll see in time. More importantly, you can trust your great uncle.”

Dipper sighed. “Yeah, I hope that’s the case, that I can trust you,” Dipper said, defeated.

“Chin up, my boy,” Ford said. “You’ll see why I enjoy having her around. For now, you can find some snacks in the cupboard before Soos makes dinner.”

Dipper raised a bushy eyebrow. “Soos is cooking now? He always ate burrito bites and anything instantaneous.”

Ford smiled. “Fatherhood really had him step up his game. Not only as a husband, but as a grandson.”

“Wow, I gotta catch up with him for sure!” Dipper then turned to me, saying my name. “I-I’m sorry about earlier.”

I shook my head. “I understand, Dipper. You just wanted to protect your great uncle from someone strange.”

Dipper smiled. “You’re anything but,” he said. “See you both at dinner.”

We both waved to him before I turned to Ford. He just had a look of mixed emotions on his face, somewhere from sadness to relief to anger, to even looking apologetic.

“I deeply apologize for the onslaught you had to endure on behalf of my family. I hope they weren’t too unrelenting in their questioning.”

I shook my head. “I told you many times, Stanford, and I’ll tell you again,” I said. “I really don’t mind. In fact, I find it heartwarming.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Heartwarming?” he said. “How on Earth did you find that heartwarming?”

“It’s so blatantly clear that you have a family that loves you. So much so to the point where they would ruthlessly interrogate someone who they thought could be a potential threat to you. If that isn’t a strong familial love and bond, I don’t know what is,” I told him.

Ford scratched the back of his head. “I suppose you’re right.”

I smiled coyly. “Of course I’m right,” I told him smugly.

Ford chuckled. “You’re such a cheeky girl. I never expected you to have a sly side.”

His praise made my heart skip a beat.

I maintained my smile. “That’s some high praise coming from you.”

“Oh, my dear, you should be used to me praising you,” he said in a deep voice, making me feel all hot inside.

Ugh, why is this happening? Have I really been so lonely that this man is starting to ignite a flame inside of me?

It’s been extinguished for a while, actually. I’m surprised it’s starting back up again. If it’s even starting up at all. This basement does tend to get hot.

“Gracious, are you okay? Please, say something!” Ford asked, his hands on my shoulders.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Ford. I got lost in thought.”

Ford sighed a breath of relief, I smelt the coffee he normally drank on his breath. “Thank goodness. I was just telling you that dinner is ready, so we can go get some food to eat.”

I nodded. “I think I need something inside of me.”

Oh, fuck! That came out so wrong! I hope Ford didn’t pick up on that!

“You certainly do. Come, dear. Let’s go eat.”

I nodded before following him onto the elevator. In somewhat comfortable silence, we rode the elevator up to the first floor of the Mystery Shack, and we went into the dining room.

Soos was nowhere to be seen, but the young twins, Dipper and Mabel, were at the table, plus Stan. I decided to sit next to Ford, but as I was sitting down, Stan decided to voice his displeasure.

“Uh-uh. Stand up,” he said my name.

“Stanley! Enough!” Ford thundered. “This is becoming utterly ridiculous! Leave her be!”

Mabel and Dipper exchanged looks as Stan muttered something underneath his breath before Soos came back out. He had a joyful look on his face, which dropped once he saw the table.

“Hey dudes! …what happened?” He asked.

None of us cared to verbally answer him, so he just shrugged and sat down. Apparently, he had made enchiladas, which I strangely craved.

The dinner itself was awkward, but it wasn’t the worst one I sat through.

I thanked Soos for the dinner, and said my goodbyes to Dipper, Mabel and Stan.

Before I left, Mabel gave me her number. Just for me to give her some tips on how to become a succubus.

Goodness, that girl is a hoot.

Ford walked me back to my home, and once I arrived, I turned to him.

“Thanks for walking me back, again,” I told him.

Ford smiled. “It was the least I could do after you had to survive the onslaught,” he said as I laughed.

“I told you, it’s fine,” I said. “But if you want to spend time together… you know how to reach me.”

Ford maintained his smile. “That I do,” he said. “Goodnight, dear. Get some rest.”

“You too. Rest well.”

As I entered my home and closed the door, he began walking back. Even though I was somewhat joking the first time we met at the diner, I’m kinda glad he’s walking me back home. It makes me feel safe whenever he’s with me.

As I got ready for bed, and laid in it, I couldn’t fall asleep right away like I normally do. What was happening with my body, too?

I normally wasn’t so hot and bothered around him. His voice is naturally deep, but at that time…

Shit. I think he turned me on by accident. I think my flame has been reignited.

I need a cold shower.

💚

Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Check back next Friday for another chapter! Next chapter here.

[distilled-prose]

From Facebook today 8/14/24

Gidget" is the linguistic blend of the words "girl" and "midget."

But the name means much more than that - it's the movie that changed the course of surfing and made it mainstream.

The fictional character was inspired by Frederick Kohner's teenage daughter, Kathy Kohner, who embraced the surfing lifestyle on the sands of Malibu.

Kathy was born on January 19, 1941, in Los Angeles and raised in Brentwood.

She was only five feet tall, weighed 95 pounds, rode her first wave at the age of 15 on June 24, 1956, and was obsessed with surfing and beach life.

One day in Malibu, Terry "Tubesteak" Tracy shouted out: "See you around, Gidget!" The nickname Gidget stuck. Forever.

Initially, Kohner traded peanut butter sandwiches she made in her parent's kitchen for the use of surfboards lying around Tracy's beach shack.

Malibu's favorite mascot soon became an accomplished and well-respected surfer. She was one of the few girls riding waves at the time and kept all her adventures in her diary.

"Some people have Alcoholics Anonymous, Starbucks, church. (...) I had Malibu," Kathy Kohner later said.

The real-life "Gidget" surfed with legends like Miki Dora, Tom Morey, Dewey Weber, Kemp Amberg, and Mickey Munoz.

But, there was a surprise in the making that would have a significant impact on the future of the sport.

Kathy's father, Frederick Kohner, was a Czechoslovakian Jew who worked as a screenwriter for the German film industry until 1933.

When the Nazi regime started removing Jewish credits from films, Frederick Kohner decided it was time to move to Hollywood and started working for Columbia Pictures.

Gidget": The Book That Changed the Course of Surfing

After a day of surfing, Kathy would arrive home and tell her father about the friends, the rides, and the stories and experiences she had witnessed and lived at the beach.

The surf culture, with its surfer slang and laid-back attitude, fascinated and inspired Kohner to write a novel titled "Gidget (The Little Girl with Big Ideas)," her daughter's nickname in Malibu.

The book published by G. P. Putnam's Sons ended up selling over half a million copies.

Two weeks after its release, Frederick Kohner sold the novel rights to Columbia Pictures for $50,000, with five percent going to Kathy.

The American film studio made three movies, all directed by Paul Wendkos - "Gidget" (1959), "Gidget Goes Hawaiian" (1961), and "Gidget Goes to Rome" (1963).

In the novels, the star's name was Franziska Hofer; in the movies, she was Frances Elizabeth Lawrence. But they were all Gidget.

The 1959 movie "Gidget" was shot at Leo Carrillo State Park in Southern California and released on April 10, 1959.

Shortly after hitting the theaters, it became a hit among the American youth audience and rapidly brought surfing into the mainstream.

The film tells the story of a 16-year-old teenage girl - Frances Lawrence (Sandra Dee) - who meets and falls in love with Moondoggie (James Darren), a good-looking surfer.

Mickey Muñoz doubled for Sandra Dree in the surf. He wore a blond wig and bikini in the waves for the cameras.

yo, @surfgirl66 - By the mid '60s, the Gidget movies and such were considered uncool with the advent of the hip movement and all. But I had no idea it was a real story. And, anyway, I thought you might find this interesting.

[lost-celestial]

Celebration of the Soul (Overview)

Description: This is a modern collection of festivals for Psyche and Hermes that follows the migration of Monarch butterflies. The timing may change yearly. There are four festivals, one for each stage of migration/season to celebrate and honor our past, present, and future. More information will be posted later.

If Monarchs aren't local to your region, I suggest using the migration of a different butterfly in your area. Otherwise, feel free to use the Equinoxes instead!

Inspired by @starry-polytheism's festival for the Southern Hemisphere and @lavenderwaterfall's festival for the Northern Hemisphere. Dividers by @/k1ssyoursister

Soul's Journey: Spring

🦋 Theme: Looking to the Future 🦋 Timing: Spring Migration, Mid-Mar. to Early Apr. 🦋 Personal Preference: Mar. 31 to Apr. 2

Honoring Ψυχή Ἀνθεία, Psyche, the Friend of Flowers, and Ἑρμης Εριουνης, Hermes, the Luckbringer and Helper.

This is the first generation of a yearlong journey that will span multiple generations of monarchs.

Monarchs are one of the only butterflies that Monarch twice a year. The start of their adventure begins here, usually sometime in mid-March. As the temperature gets warmer, Monarchs will leave their overwintering spots (where they spend the winter) and migrate North. By Spring fully rolls around, the Monarchs have already started their next adventure.

Our first Soul's Journey begins here. This is the time to celebrate the start of a new chapter in our lives and look towards the future. We honor Psyche, the Friend of Flowers, by celebrating the return of the Spring and breathing spirit back into our lives. We honor Hermes, the Luckbringer and Helper, by asking for Hermes' guidance in the next chapter of our lives. He will be our guide through the unknown.

In this soft grassy spot, Psyche lay pleasantly reclining on her bed of dewy turf and, her great disquiet of mind soothed, fell sweetly asleep. Presently, refreshed by rest, she rose with her mind at ease. What she now saw was a park planted with big trees and a spring of crystal-clear water.

Soul's Journey: Summer

☀️ Theme: Enjoying the Present ☀️ Timing: Summer, June to Mid August ☀️ Personal Preference: Jun. 18 to Jun. 20

Honoring Ψυχή ἐρωμένη, Psyche, the Lover of Love and Ἑρμης Δαις Ἑταιρος, Hermes, the Comarde of the Feast.

After Spring comes Summer.

For the next couple of Monarch generations, they’ll dedicate their lives to continuing North and breeding. Monarchs die, are born, and die again; yet, time continues to move. Monarchs are never stagnant and are always flying towards their next goal.

This is the time to celebrate the present moment and find joy in the little things. It’s the time to remember that everyday we are progressing, even if it feels like we aren’t or that we’re regressing. Every day that we’re alive is a day well spent. We’ll honor Psyche, the Lover of Love, by spending time appreciate the people we care about in our lives and spending time offline. We’ll honor Hermes, the Comrade of the Feast, by showing gratitude for the things we have and actually celebrating ourselves and what we are achieving in the moment. It’s a celebration of self.

As far and wide as the house extended, every part of it was likewise of inestimable price. All the walls, which were built of solid blocks of gold, shone with their own brilliance so that the house furnished its own daylight, sun or no sun; [....] As [Psyche] gazed at all this with much pleasure, a disembodied voice came to her: 'Mistress, you need not be amazed at this great wealth. All of it is yours.'

Soul's Journey: Autumn

🍁 Theme: Honoring the Past 🍁 Timing: Autumn/Fall Migration, Late Aug. to Nov. 🍁 Personal Preference: Sept. 16 to Sept. 20

Honoring Ψυχή Πτερόεσσα, Psyche, the Winged One and Ἑρμης Αθανατος Δαικτορος, Hermes, the Immortal Guide.

After several months of the heat, the temperature begins to drop and the plants begin to die.

By this point, three generations of Monarchs have lived and died. Now, it’s time for the Monarchs’ biggest journey: migrating down South once again.

Flying down South will be completed in one generation, throughout the Autumn/Fall months. Monarchs of this generation are significantly different than their great-grandparents, whom started the journey to the North in the spring. These months live significantly longer and won’t reproduce as much until they’ve reached their destination.

In the most literal sense, these Monarchs have transformed into something completely different than their parents, and their parent’s parents. This is the start of the end of a long adventure. We’ll honor Psyche, the Winged One, by reflecting on how we can learn from our past. We’ll honor Hermes, the Immortal Guide, by leaving offerings to our ancestors and asking Chthonic deities for their guidance with change.

NOTE: I recommend you take your time with this part of the celebration. It can be heavy, as much of this part revolves around the departed and the end of something. Really take your time to allow yourself to feel your emotions and process what you're feeling. You want to take your time with this.

Then, indeed, Psyche knew that her last hour had come and, that all disguised was at an end and that she was being openly sent to instant destruction. So much was clear, seeing that she was being made to go on her own two feet to [Hades] and the shades. Without delay, she made for a certain lofty tower, meaning to throw herself off it, for in that way, she thought she could most directly and economically go down to the Underworld. But the tower suddenly broke into speech: 'Why, poor child, do you want to destroy yourself by a death leap? Why needlessly give up at this last ordeal?'

Soul's Journey: Winter

❄️ Theme: Repose (Rest) ❄️ Timing: Winter, December to Early March ❄️ Personal Timing: Dec. 30 to Jan. 3

Honoring Ψυχή, Psyche, Personification of the Soul and Ἑρμης, Hermes, God of Communication, Boundaries and Divine Guide.

After the long migration South again, the generation of super Monarchs will die. Unlike the generations before them, these Monarchs will begin reproducing and laying eggs once Spring rolls around again. Like Autumn, this season is spent mostly traveling South until the temperature warms up again, and they migrate North again to start the next breeding cycle. This generation is truly the most special of all previous generations, and both symbolize the Monarchs' incredible journey and the end of an era. It’s the time to reflect, appreciate, and acknowledge what we’ve done over the course of the seasons. To celebrate, we’ll honor Psyche herself with some much-needed self-care and R&R. Alongside that, we’ll honor Hermes for his help in guiding us every day.

Cups of nectar were served to Zeus by his own cupbearer, the shepherd lad (Ganymede), and to the others by Dionysus; Hephaestus cooked the dinner; the Seasons (Hoare) made everything colorful with roses and other flowers; the Graces (Charities) sprinkled perfumes; the Muses discoursed tuneful music. Then Apollo sang to the lyre, and Aphrodite, fitting her steps to the sweet music, danced in all her beauty. [...] This was Psyche's marriage to Eros, and when her time came, they had a daughter, whom we called Hedone [Pleasure].

[caramara3]

Just Friends...?: Imani Cove

Playlist for fic

Name: Imani Cove

Nicknames: Emmi, Emms, Snips, Mani Jade

DOB: November 24, 1990

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Born: Houston, TX

Billed from: Houston, TX

Resides: Orlando, FL

Age: 32 (as of 2023)

Ethnicity: Afro-Caribbean (mother is from Barbados; father's family is from New Orleans)

Height: 5 foot 7

Alma Mater: Texas Southern University

Occupation: Professional Wrestler * actress *

Years Active: 2008-present

Family:

Grandmother: Evangeline Whitley

Grandfather: Charles Whitley Sr.

Younger Sister: Nylah Raine

*Notes: this is an AU in which Asuka didn't go to NXT and just went straight to the main roster. Imani takes the place of Sasha Banks in this AU but with slight changes. Imani also takes the place of Mia Yim as a surprise in the 2019 NXT Women's WarGames match, not Candice LeRae. Sasha Banks doesn't win the Women's tag titles with Bayley either times nor does she main event WM37 with Bianca Belair, Imani does. Imani's superstar level is in comparison to the likes of Bianca Belair & Becky Lynch, loved by fans and WWE Officials*

Accomplishments:

WWE:

NXT Women’s Championship (1 time)

WWE RAW Women’s Championship (2 times)

WWE Smackdown Women’s Championship (2 times)

WWE World Women's Championship (1 time, current; won at WrestleMania 40)

WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship (2 times, inaugural) with Bayley

Women’s Royal Rumble Winner (2024)

Third WWE Women’s Triple Crown Champion

Fourth WWE Women’s Grand Slam Champion

NXT Year-End Award (2 times) - Match of the Year (2016) vs. Bayley at NXT TakeOver: Dallas; Match of the Year (2019) -Team Ripley vs. Team Baszler at NXT TakeOver: WarGames

ESPY Awards:

Best WWE Moment (2021) - Imani Cove and Bianca Belair make history as the first Black Women to main-event WrestleMania 37

Bumpy Award (4 times)

Best Match of the Half-Year (2019) - surprise participant in the NXT Women's WarGames match

Tag Team of the Half-Year (2020) – with Bayley

Best Match of the Half-Year (2021) – vs. Bianca Belair at WrestleMania 37

Best Match of the Half-Year (2022) - vs. Charlotte at WrestleMania 38

Little Facts about Imani:

Imani is a graduate of the Reality of Wrestling school.

Before signing with the WWE, Imani was the it girl on the indie circuit from 2008-2015, shattering glass ceilings and expectations from fans and critics alike. She signed with the WWE in mid-2015 and would make her first appearance on NXT confronting Bayley. She would win the NXT Women's Championship at TakeOver: Dallas and begin a near 5 month feud with the former champion.

She still holds the record for longest NXT Women's Championship title reign at 502 days before being defeated by Ember Moon at TakeOver: WarGames 2017. She would make main roster debut the RAW after WrestleMania 34.

She appeared in the first ever Women's Royal Rumble at entry number 4, lasting 35:46 before being eliminated by Asuka.

In 2019, she made a surprise appearance at NXT TakeOver: WarGames as the mystery teammate for Team Ripley after Mia Yim was injured prior to the pay-per-view.

In June 2022, Imani got into a terrifying car accident while at home in Orlando. Her injuries were bad enough that it forced her to relinquish her Smackdown Women's Title less than two months after retaining it against Charlotte Flair at WrestleMania 38. Imani returned the RAW after WrestleMania 39 100% cleared to compete again.

For her WrestleMania 38 entrance, Imani paid tribute to her Houston roots. She entered the arena surrounded by drivers of slabs with her in the main car.

Her dream WrestleMania entrance is to have either Megan Thee Stallion or Kendrick Lamar performing her theme.

Imani’s entrance music is heavily influenced by a mixture of 90s/00s hip hop and 2000s grunge.

Imani loves horror movies and musicals. Very odd combo I know, but a girl likes what she likes. Her favorite horror movie is Dracula/Scream and her favorite musical is Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Right now Imani has over 13 tattoos and counting, 13 to symbolize her lucky number. And yes, a good amount of her tattoos were done on Friday the 13th.

When Imani was 13 and Nylah was 7, they went into the custody of their paternal grandparents.

When Imani was 7 years old, her father died unexpectedly while on his way home from work. According to the autopsy, he suffered a brain aneurysm while driving on the road.

Imani, though a social butterfly, tends to keep her private life extremely secretive, especially in regards to her childhood.

Imani participated heavily in sports as a teen; mainly basketball, volleyball, and track & field. She was also heavily involved in choir and her school's theater department.

Imani has her B.A. in Music from Texas Southern University.

Thanks to her grandparents she is classically trained in piano and can play the guitar. There was a time before she got into wrestling that she wanted to be a singer or a songwriter.

Imani's grandmother Evangeline was terrified learning her baby wanted to be a wrestler, but she agreed to let her train on one condition: that she went to college and get a degree just in case.

A few of Imani's major wrestling influences are Rey Mysterio, Chyna, Lita, The Wild Samoans, Batista, Trish Stratus, Eddie Guerrero, and Shawn Michaels.

Imani reps her hometown teams the Houston Texans and the Houston Astros.

She is very close friends with Rhea Ripley, Bianca Belair, Bayley, Sami Zayn, Finn Balor, Samantha Irvin, Zelina Vega, Naomi, and Jade Cargill.

She met Damian Priest in 2014 during the final stretch of her indie days and the two quickly formed a friendship.

Imani is fluent in three languages: Spanish, French, and German. She knows a little Japanese and is currently learning Italian.

She has an insane sweet tooth. She loves brownies, cakes, and ice cream, especially cookies-and-cream ice cream. Her favorite candy is watermelon rings.

Imani's signature fragrance is a perfume she created at a local shop in New Orleans. It's a blend of vanilla, black orchid, and amber that she pairs with Eos Cashmere Vanilla lotion.

Imani grew up in an affluent musical family. Her grandmother was a jazz singer in New Orleans for 30 years and her grandfather played trombone for her band (that's how they met).

Imani has three pets: an orange Tabby male named Cheddar, a Maine Coon female named Satine, and a grey pitbull male named Obi that she adopted during a UK tour.

She's a BIG ass nerd. Loves Lord of the Rings, Marvel, and is currently obsessed with a show called The Legend of Vox Machina. And she plays D&D with Xavier Woods.

The first thing she did with her first big paycheck, aside from paying her student loans, was pay off her grandparents house in Houston and move them to Orlando to be close to her.

Her favorite two matches of her career so far have been her vs Ember Moon at TakeOver WarGames and main eventing WrestleMania 37 with Bianca Belair.

Her sister Nylah is 6 years younger than her. Nylah is currently finishing her Master's in Law at Howard University. Nylah plans to use her degree and become a Civil Rights Attorney.

~~~~~~

TagList:

@beibigirl124 @bossbitch-22 @bonni-98 @queencherryberry @blueblazezz @jstarr86 @just-another-side-blog @southerngirl41 @abadbitchblogs @new-zealand-chic @joannasteez @miss-kuki-nz @shamaness11 @thedeboniardevistation @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans @damiansgoodgirll @terrortwinunicorn @bigstrongblackheart @rootedinrevisions @lavitabella87 @royallyprincesslilly @chaneajoyyy @gold--gucciempress @msbigredmachine @msnikkimoneypenny @cookiebelle @flawlessglamazon @wrestlingbabe @fivefootxo @adriennegabriella @joy-of-life88 @daniiwrites @glitterquadricorn @lorena26 @ambreignsfan4life @eringobragh420 @babiidee28 @madhatterbri @mzv11 @bellaamor88 @queenoftheworldisdead @wrestlingbabe @yana3sworld @writinglionqueen @retro-rezz-the-est

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 18: The Graduate

Chapter Eighteen.

I tapped on your window on your darkest night, The shape of you was jagged and weak, There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway, You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself, But do you know, you're demolishing me? And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave, Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? And let all your damage, damage me? And carry your baggage up my street, And make me your future history, it's time, You've come along way, open the blinds, let me see your face, You wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody.

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 8,024

Chapter Warnings: Underage drinking, explicit language, fluff, allusions to cheating (not main character related), violence, protective-but-still-an-idiot!Steve, mentions of vomitting.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: COMING SOON

Taglist: @kezibear

Chapter Eighteen: The Graduate

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple, the motion of wiping it away both autonomous yet otiose, since another would replace it soon enough. It was only early June, but the Mid-west summer was back with a vengeance this year.

“How long is this gonna take?” Mike huffed, pushing his ever-growing hair out of his face, “It’s as hot as Satan’s ass crack out here.”

The boy had been scowling since he’d clambered into your car and immediately noticed the lack of air-con.

Condensation from your bottled water dripped down your hand as you passed the boy the drink, knowing that although it wouldn’t do much to cool him down, at least if he was drinking he couldn’t be complaining at the same time.

“They just called his name,” Lucas noted, catching a glimpse of the boy from his elevated seat on the bleachers as your small group — bar Mike — stood, applauding and hollering the older boy’s name.

The noise caught Steve’s attention as he shook Principal Higgins’ hand, a beaming smile stretching across his face as he sauntered across the stage like he’d been class valedictorian. Sure, Steve had only graduated by the skin of his teeth, and he hadn’t been able to secure one college place, but he had graduated nonetheless.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to pass quickly, and despite the raging beat down from the sun and the kid’s complaining — as if Max didn’t hail from California — you could hardly wipe the smile from your face.

Pushing your way through the large sea of students, you practically had to tear yourself away from the boy’s tight grip as he hugged you, “You came?”

“I mean, you kinda saved our asses last year. Would be rude to not show our faces.” Max smiled, slightly perplexed, as the boy pulled her into her own bone-crushing hug. He made his way down the group, Eleven and Lucas being the only ones to seemingly enjoy it.

“Yeah, it uh… It means a lot.”

You’d been able to wrangle the kids — bar Dustin, who had left a week or so before for some summer camp — to the ceremony, but you knew you didn’t have long before they grew bored and even more annoying than usual.

“Oh, there he is!” A loud, shrill cut through the already noisy atmosphere as Mr. And Mrs. Harrington made their way toward the boy, the former pulling her son into an embrace, “Oh, look at you! You look so smart in your robes.”

Mr. Harrington rolled his eyes as his wife continued to fawn over their only child, “Well, don’t get used to it. You won’t be seeing him in them again since he didn’t get into one damn college.”

“Honey, not here.”

Her voice was stern and her eyes sharp as she sent her husband a pointed look, almost daring him to try to continue this conversation in public, though the man merely turned and began to fiddle with his pager.

“Thanks, Mom,” Steve mumbled, his cheeks flushed — from the sun, or the embarrassment of his mother gripping his cheeks, you weren’t sure — as he peered toward you, the snickers from the kids only deepening his blush.

“Oh, hello again,” Mrs. Harrington had seemingly just noticed you, her smile appearing more strained as she looked around at the small ragtag group surrounding her son, “We didn’t know any of your... friends were coming, sweetheart.”

It took everything in Steve to not shake his head and deny that he was friends with actual children, to explain why they were all so prominent in his life. But he didn’t want to look like an asshole, nor did he want to be shipped off to some insane asylum, or worse… taken away by the government. So instead, Steve sent a tight-lipped smile to his mother as he simply nodded.

“You’re going to have to head out to dinner without me tonight,” Steve’s father sighed, shoving his pager back into the pocket of his tailored black pants, “Stacy said there’s an emergency meeting in Indianapolis, I’ll be gone for the night-”

“I’ll ring Enzo’s when we get back, let them know we’ll reschedule.”

“You two can go on without me. I don’t-”

“You understand, don’t you Steven?” Mrs. Harrington cut off her husband, turning her attention back toward her son, missing the moment his face dropped.

“Yeah, I, uh… It’s fine, Mom.”

Pressing a kiss to the boy’s cheek, Mrs. Harrington returned her gaze to her husband, “We’ll go home and pack. I’ll ring Enzo’s, and you can tell Stacy to book a dinner at the hotel for two tonight.”

Steve watched as the two made their way out toward the parking lot, the noises around him blurring into one sound.

“-And there’s a new movie out tonight, I can totally try to score us some free popcorn at the Hawk unless you wanna try out the new one at Starcourt? Or if you don’t wanna head out, we can rent something at Family Video. I can grab us a pizza and-”

“Party at mine, tonight,” Steve shouted, causing the large crowd of teens to turn in his direction, “8 O’clock.”

“There’s already a party planned for tonight, Harrington. Must have forgotten to post your invite, so sorry.” Carol’s all-too-familiar snarl sounded much too close as she approached you.

“Yeah, well… I have a pool.” Steve shrugged. It wasn’t often he’d laud his parent’s wealth over people, but tonight… Tonight was an exception.

A loud cheer sounded from the crowd, some hollering and chanting Steve’s name, reminding him of the past few years of high school. Carol, however, was less than pleased, scoffing before making her way back to Tommy.

“What time should we get there?” Lucas asked, eyes wide and shining, only to be quickly shut down by the older boy,

“Yeah, not a chance in Hell, Sinclair.”

Despite Steve’s offer to help him set up — he had made his bed, therefore as far as you were concerned, he could sleep in it — you had other plans. You’d dropped off the kids at Mike’s house where they could irritate Mrs. Wheeler instead, and after a pathetic attempt to make yourself somewhat decent for the party later, you headed to your destination.

It was already dark by the time you’d made your way to Forest Hills trailer park, but the summer air remained a few degrees above comfortable, and you begrudged the fact your mother had all but whipped the car keys from your grasp the moment you’d opened the front door. She didn’t have a shift tonight, so you could only assume she was headed out to whatever bar would allow her in.

Throwing your bike down on the patch of grass in front of the steps, the door rattled under your slightly too zealous knock.

“Alright, alright, hold your damn horse- oh, evenin’.” The door swung open, causing you to step backward down the large concrete stairs as Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, appeared, mug in one hand and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Is Eddie here?”

The man nodded, letting out an exasperated sigh as he placed the mug down on a small table inside where you could see a small TV set up before moving aside and letting you enter, “He’s holed up in his room, maybe you can get a bit more sense outta the boy than I did.”

Wayne made his way outside and shut the door behind himself, mumbling under his breath as he left. You could already hear the thumping bass from down the small hallway, so you kicked off your shoes and knocked a few times on his door.

“Go away, Wayne.”

Pushing the door open, you leaned against the door frame and waited for the boy to notice you. Laying prone on his messy bed, Eddie Munson looked a little too pathetic for your liking. He was dramatic at the best of times, and cocksure at the worst, but the sight of the young man laying face first into his lumpy pillow as he loudly bemoaned his future was something else altogether.

Clearing your throat, you watched closely as he let out a long, annoyed huff of air and turned only his head, a glare already set on his features that was meant for his uncle quickly fell into something that resembled a baby deer trapped in headlights when he realized that it was not, in fact, Wayne, who was trying to rouse him from his evening of desperation and depression.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Munson,” you smirked, turning your attention to a book haphazardly thrown onto the boy’s desk.

His bed squeaked as he rolled over, quickly pushing himself to his feet to snatch the book, the blue cover slightly torn and bent along the edges, indicating how often it had been read, “You’re not Wayne…”

“What gave it away?” You cocked a brow, still ignoring the boy as you continued to look around his room, the boy feeling a little too abashed at the state of his room, “the lack of plaid? Or the fact I’m not a 50-year-old man? Pick your words wisely, Munson.”

“Stop touching my shit,” Eddie grumbled, taking away another item — this time, a comic book — from your grasp and placing it precariously on top of his ashtray, his brow still furrowed slightly as he ran a hand over his hair, a futile attempt to straighten out the mass of curls on his head, “What are you doing here? Heard Harrington was having some big, stupid blowout to celebrate graduating by the skin of his teeth. Assumed you’d be with him since, you know, you're attached at the hip now, or whatever.”

Eddie was hurting, which was the sole reason you swallowed down the venomous response that had tasted a little too sour on your tongue for even you. You were here to check in on the boy, not make him feel worse that he, once again, was not a graduate of Hawkins High, and would instead have to repeat another year under the watchful, exasperated eye of Principal Higgins.

“Wanted to see you, see how you’re doing after… you know.” Eddie sent you a halfhearted glare before flopping back down onto his bed, this time facing the ceiling with a huff, “Which I guess isn’t good, since you’re blowing both your own and my ears out with this shit.”

Eddie sat up quickly, holding his weight up on his elbows, “This isn’t shit, it’s Black Sabbath, and Ozzy Osbourne is thee-”

“Yeah, yeah, the prince of darkness, I know, Eddie. I’ve heard the spiel before. But can you please just turn it down a little?”

Eddie leaned over his bed, turning down the dial of his boombox in defeat as the room felt a little too quiet now, “Look, I don’t need checking in on, alright? I’m a big boy, and this isn’t my first rodeo.”

Throwing yourself down next to the boy, laying side by side, perpendicular on the bed, your eyes gazed over the posters that lined his walls, including his homemade ‘Corroded Coffin’ banner. Rolling on your side slightly, you dug around in your back pocket, searching for the notes you’d shoved in there earlier, “Hey, you got any pre-rolls?”

“I’m not really in the mood,” Eddie huffed, only to be cut off when the money floated down onto his chest. Sighing, he pushed himself up once more and grabbed his metal lunchbox from the bedside table, “I normally charge extra for pre-rolled, you know?”

“Friends discount?” you shrugged, eyes turning to watch the boy as he plonked the box onto his desk, sitting in his old, barely still standing chair, and got to work, “You know, you’ll get caught in school with that one day. It’s a little obvious you’re not exactly carrying around a sandwich in it.”

Ignoring your barely there concern, Eddie shook his head, “Oh, we’re friends, are we? You know the assholes at school would shun you even more if they heard you declare that.”

Rolling your eyes, you rested your hands on your stomach, “I’ve watched your shitty band play live. By choice. I’d definitely say we’re friends, Munson.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you refer to everything you like as shitty. Black Sabbath, but I know you know at least two of their albums, my music, but you’ve seen the band live…” After securing the joint, Eddie gently fell back onto the bed, elbow a little too close to your ribs as he rolled to face you, “Tell me how you really feel about DND.”

Shoving the boy away from you, you checked around the small table to the side of his bed for a lighter, tossing the magazine from earlier onto the floor in search of the ashtray, stopping short when you came across the blue box innocently placed next to it. Tossing the boy the lighter, you moved back from where you were leaning over Eddie, blue box in hand and a wide smirk on your face.

“Lubricated, for her pleasure, right?” You couldn’t help the cackle that escaped you as Eddie choked as he inhaled a lungful of smoke, sitting up quickly to grab the box, despite the fact he was certain he was about to die.

“Give that here,” he glared, throat scratchy when he finally managed to catch his breath, allowing you to take the joint only once you’d passed him the box of condoms, “God, you’re annoying.”

Finally settling down, you returned to your original place on the bed, taking a large toke or two before handing the joint back to the boy, “Hey, I think it’s great that you care about that shit-”

“It’s important,” Eddie glared, his cheeks burning in lingering embarrassment, “Can’t just ram it in there, and-”

“Christ, Munson, I don’t actually care about your sex life. I’m just glad you’re being responsible, even if that is an unopened packet.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie sighed, releasing a long cloud of smoke as you continued to pass the joint back and forth, “I’m the only Munson Junior in town. Wouldn’t wanna make this shithole hate me more, right?”

Halting in your actions, joint halfway to your mouth, you looked over at the boy who despite putting on a pretty decent front in school and around town, was only able to let his walls down, even slightly, in the comfort and safety of his own home. A home that he was forced to share with his uncle.

“You’re nothing like Al, you know that right?”

“What, charming? Charismatic?”

“You know what I mean, Ed.”

And he did.

Word around Hawkins traveled faster than mono in high school, and all of the charm in the world wouldn’t make Alan Munson a better man. Whether or not the death of Eddie’s mother had devastated the man or not, he was the only one to blame for the life of gambling and theft that he began to lead.

But grief was a funny thing. It could wreck even the strongest of men, even the kindest of them, and Al Munson was neither of those things to begin with.

After finishing the last of your joint, you pocketed the rest and once you were certain that Eddie was going to be okay, you decided to take your leave. Eddie gave you a ride to the Harrington residence, offering to drop your bike back home on the way through, offering you a ride home later, if you needed it.

You knew what he was getting at, a Cheshire cat grin pulling widely at his cheeks as he sent you a sleazy wink, only to receive a joint thrown — unlit, thankfully — to his face. For his troubles, you’d assured him.

By the time you’d arrived at Steve’s house, it was already full of half-cut teenagers celebrating their newfound freedom. Steve was lucky that he didn’t really have any neighbors in close range, because you could hear the music blasting from the sound system, along with the screams and laughter and chanting coming from the backyard before you’d even exited Eddie’s van.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in? Just for one drink? You might make a sale?”

But the older boy shook his head, the now tight smile that tugged almost uncomfortably across his mouth not fooling anyone, “Nah. We smoked the last of the shit I got from Rick, plus I gotta tie up some loose ends on my next campaign. It’s a big one.”

Eddie waved you off, his van making more racket than the house party as he drove back up the driveway, and you only hoped he wouldn’t get pulled over for the inevitable speeding he’d be doing back through town.

Pushing open the large, red door, the house already seemed much too cramped, full of people who were practically strangers.

A familiar song was playing through the speakers, something you were sure you’d heard on the radio in Steve’s car recently, but you didn’t care enough to place it. Either way, people were dancing up a storm.

You felt a sharp pain in your side as you pushed through the crowd, hoping to find someone you recognized when a loud shout of your name caught your attention.

Finally breaking out of the sea of people, you met Steve in the kitchen where he was pouring what seemed to be another round of shots, a gaggle of now ex-students surrounding him at all sides, accepting their drink with gusto. You waited for the boy to down his own, watching as he shook his head in an attempt to drown out the burn that the liquor left in his throat. He was obviously drunk, you realized, as he rounded the kitchen counter and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a one-armed hug that felt a little more like a headlock.

“I’m so glad you came! I thought you were gonna bail.”

“Yeah, well… There’s still time,” you only half-joked, patting his back before he let you go, only to drag you back to the group he was standing with. You recognized a few of the girls, all of them fawning over the man of the hour the last few years of high school, especially Debbie Rein. Ex-head cheerleader, and one thousand percent Steve’s type. Before Nancy, at least. God, you thought to yourself, she must have been absolutely infuriated that Nancy Wheeler of all people had their taste of Steve before she did.

“So, you know these guys, right?” Steve asked, his hand flailing in the small group's direction.

You sent them an awkward smile, despite being practically ignored by them all. Cheerleaders and jocks were not aware of your existence in school, of that you were sure, but you still tried, “Uh, yeah. We had Chem together last year, I think.”

Debbie — who had returned to her previous state of clinging to Steve’s arm — merely looked you up and down, shrugging her shoulder as if to prove a point that you were all too forgettable. You knew she was counting down the seconds until you left, and Steve’s attention could return solely back to her. Steve, however, had a different plan.

“Here you go,” he handed you the small plastic cup, a shot full of what was likely the most expensive vodka in his parent’s liquor cabinet.

“Oh, uh, no I’m good thanks-”

“C’mon, it’s graduation! Just the one, I promise.” Steve interrupted, holding the drink closer to you, big brown eyes peering down like a too-excited puppy, only making it all that harder to turn down.

You would’ve, though, had Debbie — whose nails were practically digging into Steve’s bicep — not scoffed, lips pulling into the same smirk you’d seen grace her annoyingly pretty face countless times in the school hallways as she hit books out of freshman’s arms and tripped the band geeks as they lugged their heavy instruments to practice.

Instead of asking her what her problem was, because you knew damn well what her issue was with you, you accepted the drink from Steve’s sticky, vodka grip, swallowing it down in one, trying — and failing — to keep a straight face. Turns out, even expensive vodka tasted like paint stripper.

Steve let out a cheer as you placed the small cup back onto the counter and quickly downed another of his own, tongue sticking out at the taste. You watched the blonde roll her eyes before turning her attention back to the boy, “Oh my god, I love this song. Let’s dance!”

Steve nodded enthusiastically, even though he honestly had no idea what was currently playing, but the girl’s smirk quickly fell from her face as he grabbed your arm, trying to drag you toward the makeshift dance floor,

“No, Steve, I’m not…” shaking your arm from his grip, you tried your best not to glare at him, “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

The boy’s head tipped to the right as he frowned, “What who meant?”

Sighing, you patted the boy on his cheek, eyes softening at his dopey, drunken expression, “Debbie. You know, the girl in the… You know what? Never mind.”

“You want another drink?”

Shaking your head, you stepped closer to the boy attempting to avoid an all too passionate couple that seemed to be attached at the mouth, “Shots aren’t really my thing. Look, Steve, I think I should-”

“C’mon, there’s a keg out back.” The boy didn’t stop to make sure you were following, instead grabbing your hand and dragging you back through the kitchen, past Debbie, who sent you one last bitter glare, and into the back yard where he snatched two clean solo cups and poured a little too much beer into each.

You followed him toward the lounge chairs, a heavy weight settling on your chest as you took note of the last time you were here. The last time you’d seen Barb alive. Sending a quick glance to the boy, you wondered if the memories hit him just as hard, if not harder. Because at least you could go home, he couldn’t even look out of his window without the painful reminder of what happened that night, and who was — unrightfully so — blamed for it all.

Steve tipped back his cup, gulping down a large mouthful of the bitter drink before looking around at the groups that had gathered, some people cooling off in the pool, others relishing in the early summer heat.

“It’s a good turnout, right?” He questioned, his wide eyes turning toward you, once again seeking your validation, “better than anything Tommy or Carol could’ve pulled off.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know? Not for them, and especially not with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was obvious that Steve was lying, his focus quickly returning to the crowd around him as he took another sip, “I’m just being a normal teenage guy on graduation, right? I’m allowed to do that, right?”

Releasing a long and irritated sigh, you tried your best to ignore his tone, knowing it wasn’t really you that he was upset with, “I’m not saying you can’t, Steve. I’m just saying you don’t have to.”

“Look, you just… you wouldn’t get it, alright? Tonight is the most normal I’ve felt in a long time. I mean, I was someone in high school, you know? People cared. You were just a…”

You were sure your heart physically ached as the boy’s sentence dwindled off, a sip of his beer to wash down the harsh words, regret obvious in his features.

“Just a what, Steve? Just some loser who you didn’t know existed until you were dragged into this shit? Or rather barreled headfirst into it because you couldn't mind your own damn business.”

He wanted to remind you that his barreling had, as a matter of fact, saved your life that night at the Byers' residence. He had the blood stain on the backseat of his Beamer to prove it. But Steve wasn’t here to burn bridges, despite being drunk enough to light the match,

“I didn’t say that-”

“You didn’t have to,” you were trying, and failing, to keep your cool as your voice amplified, “Jesus, Steve. I really thought you’d gotten over this shit, but one stupid comment from Carol earlier and… You know what, forget it. Enjoy your night down memory lane, Steve. I’m sure Debbie’s still in the kitchen if you’re that desperate to relive your glory days.”

Standing, you handed your cup a little too forcefully to the boy who didn’t seem bothered at all that some of the beer spilled over the side, most likely staining his shirt, as he struggled to stand in his drunken stupor,

“Have a great graduation party, King Steve.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think you’d turn up, considering you’re not in the graduating class.” You were sure that Carol’s voice was the background music in Hell, “Any of your other loser friends get a pity invite, or are you just Harrington’s special friend of the moment?”

Steve called your name, almost completely unaware of Carol’s presence, too occupied with your sudden halt, watching closely as you turned back around,

“You know, Carol, I think it’s really great that you and Tommy are so secure in your relationship that you trust each other to go to colleges in different states. I mean, I know Tommy didn’t exactly get his pick of the crop, but considering what happened at Sally’s party last weekend? Well, you’re a better woman than me, that’s for sure.”

Tommy’s ears — as well as the large group that had formed outside — perked up at the mention of his name, splodges of red from the tips of his ears, spreading down his neck as he sent his girlfriend an ingratiating smile, “I promise, babe, nothing happened at Sally’s. I was barely even there an hour-”

Rumors spread around the school like a forest fire, and being all but invisible had its perks if you knew how to use them, but you decided to leave the boy to his fumbling as he tried his best to explain himself, ready to shove your way back through the crowd.

Maybe you would call in that ride from Eddie.

“I don’t even know why you’re here, the only place you’ll be going to after graduation is Pennhurst.” Tommy’s biting tone stopped you mid-step, and as you turned to face him, you could see that for a split second, he was unsure if he’d gone too far. And if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already.

“Maybe you should be more concerned with why your girlfriend wasn’t at Sally’s party, and who she was with, instead. I’ll give you a clue, it starts with Har, and ends with Grove.”

“You crazy bitch,” Tommy spat, any amount of uncertainty for his previous comment now gone with the wind as he quickly approached you, and you realized that maybe this time, you had pushed too hard and the boy might actually hit you.

Your chest bumped against Steve’s back as he slotted himself between you and the incoming, hot-headed idiot that he used to call a friend. Despite being obviously drunk, Steve’s words were much clearer than before, “Back off, Tommy. Just go, and take her with you.”

“What happened to you, man?” The boy questioned, his dark eyes peering into Steve’s as if he was genuinely perplexed by Steve’s change of personality this past year. Then again, he didn’t know half the shit Steve had been through. Half the shit you had been through together, “She got a beer-flavored pussy that’s got you whipped or something-”

The crack was loud in the silence of the yard, a few gasps escaped some of the spectators as they watched Tommy stumble back slightly, hand pressed to his nose as he felt the first trickle of blood run over his knuckles.

Unfortunately for Steve, Tommy had a lot less to drink and seemingly recovered much too quickly, throwing his own punch and catching Steve across the cheekbone, the boy’s body stumbled into you slightly as you gripped the back of his shirt. Steve’s face forcibly slammed in the other direction as Tommy landed his second hit, taking full advantage of his inebriated state, and it was only when you forced yourself in between them that Tommy stopped.

“Your reign is long over, Harrington. Don’t you get that? All anyone will ever remember you as is some loser has-been, who peaked in high school. C’mon, babe. This party’s lame, anyway.”

The crowd's whispers soon faded out as someone turned the music up, the sounds of Madonna’s ‘Material Girl’ enough to recapture the ever-fleeting attention of teenagers, and you turned around, eyes wide as you watched the bruise on Steve’s cheekbone blossom in front of your own eyes, “Steve, I-”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, not quite sobering up, but definitely no longer in the mood to parade about as if he were having fun. So instead, he made a beeline to the trusty bottle of very expensive vodka.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited until the swirling colored squiggles faded behind your eyelids before opening them back up and peering through the large sliding glass door trying to spot the boy. You couldn’t leave him like this, not when you felt partially responsible for the showdown that just happened. So begrudgingly, you pushed back through the overcrowded house, trying to find him.

It wasn’t too hard, surprisingly, as all you had to do was follow the loud cheers that seemed to echo around the house. Steve stood in the kitchen, all but chugging the bottle of vodka. With pinched brows, you marched toward him, yanking the bottle from his grip and causing some of it to join the beer stain you’d left previously.

The chanting came to an abrupt halt, loud boos and shouts aimed in your direction as you kept the bottle away from Steve’s grabbing hands,

“Give it back, it’s mine.” He slurred, eyes not quite able to focus on you. The bottle seemed much emptier than before you’d made your way outside, and you could only hope that other partygoers had taken their fill because if not, Steve was going to be left with one hell of a hangover in the morning. Ignoring the bottle you’d taken from him, Steve made a move to grab a solo cup, half filled with a red liquid that he wasn’t entirely sure of. Too drunk and too emotional, Steve knocked the cup before he was able to grab it, the contents spilling all over the kitchen counter, and yourself.

“You’re being way too dramatic right now, Harrington, and the only way this is gonna end is with your head in the toilet.”

“Oh, Harrington this, Harrington that,” he huffed, his brow wrinkled as he peered down with a look you’d never seen him give you before, “Jesus, you don’t have to be here. You can go at any time! Just because shit happened last year, and I’m gonna rot in this town for the rest of my life doesn’t mean…”

The boy stopped mid-sentence, almost freezing in place, “It doesn’t mean…”

“Steve? You good?”

“It doesn’t mean… I’m gonna puke.”

Desperately, you grabbed the boy by the back of the neck and pushed him toward the kitchen sink, all but sticking his head into it so he wouldn’t throw up over the floor. A few disgusted guests groaned, quickly evacuating the kitchen, but the music drowned out the boy’s gagging.

Once Steve’s stomach had finally settled, his shoulders no longer heaving as he retched, you grabbed an empty solo cup from the side and filled it with water from the tap, leaving it running to clear the sink.

“Sip, don’t gulp. Or you’ll be sick again.”

Steve nodded and slowed down his drinking, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“I wanna sleep,” he mumbled, sounding a little like a toddler who was overdue for a nap.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you kinda have a house full of people. If you go to bed, you might wake up without a couch, and I think your parents might notice.”

A childlike pout settled on his lips, brow pulled together as he finally looked at you, brown puppy dog eyes all but begging you for something he really didn’t need your permission for. Squeezing your eyes closed, you let out an annoyed sigh but nodded regardless, allowing the boy to place his arm over your shoulder for balance.

“Let's get you upstairs, and I’ll deal with the rest.”

“I can take it from here-”

“Fuck off, Debbie,” you huffed, pushing past the blonde from earlier and making your way toward the boy's room, ignoring the drunken wolf whistles and whooping from the crowd who’d noticed you leading Steve upstairs, wondering if Steve felt as embarrassed at Tina’s party last year when he’d helped you — too drunk, and much too upset — safely into his car.

Despite being on more than one of the athletic clubs in school, Steve wasn’t an overly muscular guy, yet his lean body was still heavy to assist — or rather, drag — upstairs, especially as with every step, Steve leaned a little more weight onto you.

Making your way down the hallway, and toward his room, you raised your voice slightly to catch the attention of the overly zealous couple making out against his door. Thankfully, Steve had locked the rooms upstairs, bar his own, and the bathroom in an attempt to keep this kind of thing from happening. He wasn’t a prude — obviously — but he wasn’t sure how he’d explain cleaning his parent’s bed sheets when they returned tomorrow.

“Hey, move it. Go find somewhere else to swap saliva. Preferably one of your own bedrooms.”

The couple scoffed, sending you a glare, but headed downstairs nonetheless.

How you managed to open Steve’s door and keep the boy upright took nothing less than a miracle, and you couldn’t help but feel relieved when he stumbled into his room and fell backward onto his bed, the frame creaking slightly under his sudden weight.

“Are you gonna throw up anymore?”

Shaking his head, Steve tried to take off his sneakers, giving up when the task seemed too strenuous. Making your way over and sitting at the bottom of his bed, you grabbed his shoes one at a time, tugging the sneakers from his feet and dropping them to the floor, “Steve, I need to make sure that you’re not going to choke on your own vomit if I leave you alone for ten minutes.”

“I’m fine, I’m good… I’m great,” Steve sighed, rolling onto his stomach and nuzzling his pillow.

Deciding that he would survive for the foreseeable future, you made your way downstairs, a plan already formed before your foot hit the bottom step. Pushing your way through the crowd in the living room, you cut the music suddenly, shouting out over the crowd,

“Cops!”

The crowd dispersed quickly, knowing that although they had their newfound freedom from school, that wouldn’t stop the long grounding most of them would receive from their parents if they were escorted home in a police car. The suddenly silent house made your ears ring as you looked around at the mess that was the Harrington’s family room.

Locking the front door, just in case any stragglers made their way back, and began the clean up in the kitchen. You found a black trash bag under the sink and began to bag up the red solo cups and empty bottles of beer that were littering downstairs. You had no idea what time the Harringtons intended to return home, but you doubted that Steve would be awake before midday, and cleaning up this mess felt like the least you could do.

Maybe tomorrow, when Steve was a little more sober and hopefully feeling a lot more forgiving, you could sort out the rest. Or, maybe, he’d forget that it had even happened, and you’d never have to talk about it again.

Somehow, you didn’t think you’d be that lucky.

Eventually, all of the cups inside and outside of the house had been collected, and the remaining bottles of liquor had been refilled with water and placed back into the large cabinet where Mrs. Harrington kept them. Couch pillows plumped, and sticky counters wiped, you left the trash bag outside the back door, eyes avoiding the pool as you locked up, hoping that Steve’s parents wouldn’t be home before he threw it out. Somehow, you weren’t sure he’d be that lucky.

Turning off all the lights except the small lamp by the door after you’d made a futile attempt to wash the red stain from your shirt, you made your way back upstairs, needlessly knocking on the boy’s door before entering, intending to check on him one last time before you left.

Placing the glass of water on his bedside table, you turned your attention to the boy, still lying prone on his bed, hair falling onto his sweaty forehead. Moving to sit next to him, you gently carded your fingers through it, carefully untangling any parts that were slightly knotted from too much hairspray, and pushed the long strands away from his slightly bruised face,

“Hey, Steve… I’m gonna get going.”

Like a house cat in desperate need of attention, Steve nuzzled into your touch, practically purring, a soft sigh falling from his lips when your fingers finally left his hair, “I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t have to, Steve. I’m going home. You need to rest, you’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Stay,” he mumbled, his brow furrowing, before he managed to open his eyes, blinking a few times before looking right at you, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier. Please, stay.”

And maybe, if you’d have left, everything would’ve been okay. But those soft eyes peered up at you with such hesitation, as if he was waiting for you to decline, to sneak off and leave him alone in his big, practically desolate house, and you felt your refusal dissolve on your tongue.

“Move over, and stay on your side of the bed,” you glared, making your way around the bed, awkwardly settling down on top of the duvet and kicking off your sneakers.

“Scout’s honor,” Steve raised his hand, waving it slightly in the dark.

Scoffing, you kept your eyes on the ceiling as you felt Steve shuffle onto his back, his head turning to look in your direction, “I bet you weren’t even in scouts.”

“You’ll never know,” Steve tried to tease, his eyes feeling heavier with each passing second until finally, they closed.

You stayed stock-still until you were certain he was asleep, the soft snoring giving him away almost instantly. Every fiber of your body was telling you to leave, that he’d be fine sleeping off the drink, and his parents would never know what happened in the morning. Yet, you felt your own eyes drooping, staying closed for longer each time, unsure if it was from a long, stressful day, or from the weed you’d smoked at Eddie’s trailer.

Either way, you fell asleep soon after, the warmth emitting from the boy next to you pulling you into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

Considering it was only June, the air around you felt too thick and humid. If this was any indication of the summer to come, you might just sit in the Slushee machine at the arcade and never come out.

Your body felt warm and clammy, and you imagined the sun was beating down on your body already, but it seemed much too dark. Had you closed the blinds in Steve’s room the night before? Honestly, you couldn’t remember.

Either way, you felt much too warm, sticky, and uncomfortable to remain in bed all day, feeling like you had your body pressed against a heater.

Your eyes flew open, the blurry image of a freckled back staring right back at you, causing you to jerk backward. Unfortunately, your legs had seemed to entwine with Steve’s, the fabric of his jeans feeling scratchy against your ankle, where your own pants had rolled up slightly, and instead of peeling yourself from the boy’s back, you woke him with a jolt.

“The hell are you doing?” Steve grumbled, finally moving his legs and releasing your own as you scooted up in the bed.

Glaring down at the boy, you realized that it wasn’t the sun that had been causing you to overheat, it had been Steve’s body. Steve’s shirtless body, “Where the hell is your top?”

Steve groaned as he rolled over to face you, and if his brain wasn’t about to pound its way out of his ears, he might’ve laughed at your expression, “Jesus, calm down. It’s just a body. You’re lucky I still have my jeans on-”

“You’re lucky you still have your jeans on,” you said through gritted teeth, slapping the top of his arm, and trying to keep your eyes at a respectable level, “What’s the time?”

Lifting his arm toward his face, Steve squinted slightly as he looked at his watch, “9:15, God, did you not even pull the blinds last night?”

Steve’s arm fell over his face, ignoring your scoff, “Forgive me for thinking that making sure you didn’t choke on vomit as you slept was a little more important than closing the blinds.”

“I think I like you more when you’re asleep,” Steve sent you a childlike smirk before he scratched at his chest, the smattering of hair catching your attention, “you’re much nicer to me when you’re not awake.”

Pushing yourself from the bed, you tried in vain to keep your eyes anywhere except a shirtless Steve Harrington, and his disgusting wallpaper that for some reason, matched the drapes, “I should get going. I don’t know if my Mom came home last night, and if she did and she doesn’t know where I am, then I’m in big shit.”

“Wanna get some breakfast? I mean, if she knows you’re out, then you can’t really get in more trouble, right?”

You considered his offer for a moment, stomach groaning as if to make a point that you hadn’t eaten the previous evening, “I can’t exactly go in this.”

Steve’s eyes dropped to where you pointed, the red stain on your shirt now matching the one on his cheeks. Scratching the back of his head, at least he seemed remorseful, “Yeah, sorry about that. I was an idiot,”

Cocking a brow, you remained quiet as you watched him shuffle from his bed and open up his chest of drawers, “But you can totally borrow something of mine, and then I can take you home. I mean, breakfast kinda seems like the least I could do after last night. But please just… let me make it up to you.”

You took in Steve as he stood, hand stretched out toward you, gripping a random shirt, eyes downcast and begging for forgiveness. A forgiveness you didn’t feel he needed to ask for. But you weren’t one to turn down a free meal.

“Sunny Side diner. I want extra pancakes.” Grabbing the shirt from his grip, you made your way toward the stairs, “Oh, and shower. You stink of beer.”

Steve had arrived at the small diner just outside of town 40 minutes later, and if you were hungry before, you were ravenous by the time you’d sat down, eyes skimming over the menu despite knowing exactly what you were going to order.

Steve had looked a little green as a plate of eggs passed by the table, but by the time his own pancakes came, his stomach had settled.

“How's your head feeling?”

Placing his glass back on the table, Steve gulped down his orange juice as if someone were about to steal it, “It’s okay, could be worse.”

You nodded, taking a long sip of coffee, staring at the boy, “You know you look like a total dick with those on inside, right?”

“It’s too bright,” Steve moaned, and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you could tell from the lines that appeared between his eyebrows that he was glaring at you.

“And yet, you wouldn’t let me drive.”

“I don’t let anyone drive my car-”

“Max did,” an amused smirk pulled your mouth up to one side as Steve finally lifted his sunglasses, perching them on his head just to give you the full effect of his scowl.

“Maybe, but I didn’t let her.”

Shrugging, you cut up another piece of pancake before popping it into your mouth, “Semantics.”

Steve, despite now having to squint throughout his meal, kept his sunglasses on top of his head for the remainder of your time at the diner.

After a moment of comfortable silence, filled only by the sounds of other customers chatting and cutlery scraping plates, Steve returned his attention to you, “Thanks, by the way. For, you know, cleaning up. And taking care of me. I was an idiot, and you didn’t deserve anything I said. I took it out on you, and I really shouldn’t have. Tommy just… He just knows how to get to me, you know.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m kinda used to the whole cleaning up after someone else’s drunken escapades, you know? Plus, it’s not like you didn’t do the same for me last year. Call it even. And Tommy… I mean, he just wants the reaction out of you. He’s an asshole, and he’ll always be an asshole. But you, you know… You’ve changed, and he doesn't have enough brain cells to realize it's for the better.”

Steve watched you carefully as you pushed around the last piece of pancake on your plate, worried that he’d caused you to lose your appetite, despite having already demolished most of your meal.

“You think I’ve changed in a good way?”

Picking up your coffee mug, you stared into the dark brown liquid, wishing you could drown in it, “I mean, obviously. I don’t hate being around you anymore.”

“I can work with that,” the boy nodded, before stealing the last slice of pancake from your plate, “I am sorry though, that I put you in that position last night.”

Taking Steve’s empty plate and stacking it on top of your own, you avoided his eyes as much as possible, “Really, it’s fine. I mean, you kinda threw a punch for me. And, you know… took two.”

“I was drunk, Tommy had an unfair advantage.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure that’s it. Totally.”

Steve scoffed as you stood, the boy throwing down enough notes to cover the bill and tip before quickly catching you up, “I could totally win a fight if I wanted.”

“I’m sure you could, Steve.” Your voice was a little too condescending for Steve to take seriously as if you were trying to pacify an infant.

“I totally could,” Steve grunted as he settled into the driver seat, connecting his seat belt and turning his attention to you as you began to fiddle with the radio, fingers quickly being slapped away, “You know, I already had that set to a station I like.”

“You didn’t get your fill of Madonna last night? Tell me, are you a ‘Holiday’, or a ‘Material Girl’ kind of guy?”

Steve merely glared before finding the station he wanted, his hand flying forward to turn the radio off when the familiar chorus kicked in, “Silence is good too.”

“Ahh, a ‘Like A Virgin’ kind of guy. How ironic.”

“That was pure luck, alright?”

Holding up your hands, you sent the boy a winsome smile, “Hey, no judgment here.”

“Really? Because you sound awful judgmental over there.”

“Everyone has their vices, Harrington. Cheesy pop music is yours.”