#still not over the fact you and miles share a birthday

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

it’s actually the birthday of TWO of my favourite humans today - happy birthday not just to miles kane, but also to the wonderful @perfectly-clear-from-here!! 🌟 i’m so eternally grateful that this little space brought us together 🥹 getting to share our creativity, flailing, and innermost thoughts over the last year has been such a gift - not to mention seeing arctic monkeys AND miles together 💖 you’re such an incredible person with a ridiculous talent for all things creative, and i absolutely can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you! i hope you have a wonderful day and that the year ahead is full of all the amazing things you deserve!! 💝💝💝

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │02

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➪ WC; 2.5k

✎ series masterlist

2. BARGAINING

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

You grew up in a small, quaint town in the countryside. The town, known for its picturesque landscapes and close-knit community, was a place where everyone knew each other.

Your parents were the owners of the town’s largest grocery store, therefore becoming a cornerstone. Your parents were the one of the most important pillars in the community who kept everyone together.

Their grocery store wasn't just a place to buy food; it was a social hub where neighbours caught up, children bought candies with their pocket money, and elderly townsfolk gathered for a chat. The store was indispensable, making sure that everyone had access to daily necessities without needing to travel to the nearest city, miles away.

Growing up, up until high school, your world revolved around the store. You spent countless hours weaving through aisles, stacking shelves, and sometimes even helping customers find what they needed.

To many, it seemed like an ideal childhood, an amazing daughter who always helped her parents.

But deep down, you knew your life was more than just lifting the burden of every day demands off your parents’ shoulder.

You were an only child to your parents, but they had always been busy for as long as you could remember.

From dawn until dusk, their lives were consumed by the tasks of running the store. Inventory needed to be checked, deliveries received, and the cash register manned. Weekends and holidays were no exception; in fact, those were often the busiest times. You would watch as your parents pour their energy and time into the store, leaving little left for you.

As a little five-year-old girl, you yearned for your parents' attention. You wished for just a few hours of their undivided focus, dreaming of days where you would play in the park, bake cookies, or simply talk. You longed for bedtime stories and weekend outings with them, but these were rare luxuries.

Their love for you was undeniable, but their presence was scarce.

Sometimes, you imagined what it would be like to have a sibling — a sister to share secrets with, a brother to play games with, someone who could fill the void in your heart.

Your friends would talk about the fun and quarrels they had with their brothers and sisters, stories that left you feeling envious and longing for the same experiences.

And as you grew older, your feelings of jealousy became more pronounced. Watching your friends with their siblings, who continued creating memories together and receiving unwavering attention from their parents, intensified your sense of deprivation.

Your attempts to gain your parents' attention often went unnoticed. You excelled in school, hoping your achievements would draw them closer, but their acknowledgment was short-lived.

Birthdays and special occasions were celebrated with gifts but lacked the warmth of genuine togetherness you hoped for. The superficial gestures could not fill the emotional gap that had grown over the years.

The loneliness of your childhood left a lasting impact on you. And as you transitioned into your teenage years, you carried with you the scars of emotional neglect from your parents.

You still loved them, and you couldn’t really blame them for trying to keep up with the heritage that your grandfather had built.

But you just wished. You just wished they had given you at least a day of their lives for you.

Relationships were difficult, be it romantic or friendship.

You craved connection but struggled with attachment issues. When you formed romantic relationships or friendships, you would swing back and forth between intense dependency and a strong desire to push people away. Your fear of being abandoned was strong, but so was your fear of being too close.

The one time you had a boyfriend when you were sixteen, you would often test boundaries, pushing for reassurance while simultaneously fearing that any closeness would lead to inevitable disappointment.

You found yourself frequently overanalysing your past boyfriend’s words and actions, interpreting affectionate gestures as signs of rejection or neglect.

But eventually he grew tired and frustrated with your behaviour, and left you overthinking everything about yourself and your flaws.

The cycle continued as you found yourself either overly clingy or excessively distant, never quite able to find a balanced space where trust could flourish. This pattern left you feeling isolated and misunderstood, as if you were forever on the outside looking in.

It wasn’t until you moved to Seoul to attend college that your life began to shift. The change came in the form of Jungkook, a free-spirited and warm-hearted boy who was everything you weren’t.

You met him at the college library, arguing about a book which you both happened to get your hands on but he let you have the win. For a moment you already felt a sense of displeasure towards him. But it all melted away when he began a conversation with you.

Jungkook was a young businessman with an open heart and an infectious zest for life. He was an heir to his father’s company, and he attended college to enhance his knowledge before taking over his father’s position someday.

You learned that he was outgoing, effortlessly charming, and had an innate ability to make people feel at ease. He was a contrast to everything you had known. He was emotionally expressive, and his openness fascinated you.

As you both started spending more time together, you found yourself slowly letting down your guard. Jungkook’s understanding and patience were qualities you hadn’t expected.

He never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with but was always there, offering a listening ear when you did choose to open up.

Jungkook’s consistent love and support through the ten years you had been together never changed, despite the times where your insecurities would resurface.

Jungkook’s love for you was evident in how he made you feel valued and cherished. He listened intently when you spoke, celebrated your successes as if they were his own, and stood by your side during tough times.

You always reflected on how lucky you were to have him. He didn’t just love you; he showed it in ways that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.

You knew that love wasn’t always easy, but Jungkook’s commitment made every challenge seem surmountable. His promise to never leave wasn’t just words; it was a living truth in the way he chose to be present in your life, day after day.

But what now?

What is going to happen now?

How were you going to live without him by your side like he promised?

It was that very thought that sent your body into a panic mode as you watched Jungkook heavy-heartedly pack his belongings.

It had been two days since he told you he wanted to break up. Two days since you slept in different rooms. One where he laid feeling guilty as he had ever been, and the other where you cried your eyes out the entire night.

You didn’t speak to him at all, though he tried his best to talk to you, saying how sorry he was for everything. But the weight of the heartbreak left you unable to speak, fearing that if you tried to, you’d break down all over again.

However, right now as you watched him, you seemed to find your voice again.

The closet door was wide open, and his suitcase laid open and half packed. You took a small step forward. Your breath felt like it was stuck in your throat, and your vision blurred as tears formed. You tried to blink them away, but they only fell faster, tracing wet lines down your cheeks.

With each step, you felt a desperate urge to make him stay, to rewind time and undo everything that had caused your relationship to fall apart.

“Jungkook,” you called softly, your voice cracking.

Jungkook paused, his back still turned to you, the shirt he was holding briefly forgotten in his hands. Slowly, he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of resignation and sorrow.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though the answer was obvious. The question was a plea, a small hope that he might say something to break the spell of finality.

Jungkook sighed and looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “I'm just...packing my things,” he said quietly.

“I’m moving back with my parents for a bit before I get my own place” he then quietly mumbled.

There was a long pause, and all he could hear was your silent cries.

“Why does it have to be like this? Can’t we...Can’t we fix this?” you asked, feeling every cell in your body weaken.

Jungkook shook his head, a pained expression crossing his face.

“I don’t think so Y/n, I’m sorry. This is for the best” he replied.

“For the best?” you echoed, your voice trembling, “it doesn’t feel like it”. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of your desperation and fear.

He finally looked at you, his eyes mirroring the depth of your pain. “I know it doesn’t. But I can’t stay, Y/n. I can’t do this to you. You deserve to be happy with someone who loves you” he said.

Your shoulders slumped, and you felt a sob rising in your chest. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept that your love story had come to such an end.

You couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving, of facing a future without him. The thought of waking up alone, of not hearing his laughter or feeling his arms around you, was unbearable.

“I don’t know how to do this without you Jungkook, please don’t go” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the situation.

Jungkook was well aware of your attachment issues, and it hurt him to do this. But could you blame him for being a little selfish? He couldn’t stay in a loveless relationship and suffocate himself, but he couldn’t lead you with false hope either. He could never do that to you. He never hurt you like that.

He walked over to you and took your hands in his. His touch was warm, familiar, and it sent a jolt of longing through you.

“I’m so sorry for how everything came to be Y/n, I really am. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I promise” his voice shook, and his eyes glossed with unshed tears.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you’re stronger than you think Y/n” he said softly as his hands then moved up to cup your face.

Jungkook knew how hard this was for you, and how harder things were going to get once he left. But there wasn’t much he could do but infinitely apologise for the heartbreak he has caused.

“That’s so easy for you to say” you cried, leaning into his touch. You didn’t feel strong. You felt like you were falling apart, piece by piece.

“I know it is, but I’m not leaving your side forever Y/n” he responded.

“I’ll always be here for you, maybe not as a lover anymore, but as a friend. We were friends in the beginning, and it will always remain so” he said.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

‘Friend’, right.

But something about staying friends with your ex who you’ve been together with for a decade didn’t feel right to you. Who does that? You thought.

No.

You weren’t ready to let him go.

You couldn’t let him go.

“Please, don’t leave me,” you pleaded, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“We can fix this, I’m sure we can” you desperately held onto his hands.

The vulnerability in your words was raw, unfiltered, and it tore at you to expose yourself so completely. You didn’t care how shamelessly you were acting, practically begging a man who doesn’t love you anymore to stay.

Jungkook’s eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might relent.

But then he shook his head, a look of regret etched on his face. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, slowly and carefully detaching himself from you.

“I can’t do this to you, to us” he said as he backed away. He looked at you for a second, apologetically, before resuming to pack his clothes.

You stood silently crying until you felt like you ran out of tears. Your eyes were on this all along, yet your mind drifted elsewhere.

This was it.

┄┄┄┄┄

You were sitting on the couch when Jungkook’s voice broke the silence, startling you.

“I think that’s everything,” he says softly, not meeting your eyes. There’s a hint of sadness in his voice. You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying.

He glanced around one last time.

“I’ll get the rest of my stuff another day,” he said, almost as an afterthought. You nodded again, your heart sinking.

This was it. He was really leaving.

Jungkook picked up his suitcase and headed toward the door. As he passed you, he paused for a moment. He looked hesitant for a moment but gave in. He let go of his suitcase and pulled you up before wrapping his arms around you.

“Take care Y/n,” he said quietly against your soft brown locks.

You weakly shut your eyes, allowing the tears you’ve been holding back to freely flow once again. You swallowed a thick lump as you wrapped your arms around his muscular torso. You inhaled his cologne as you rigged on his shirt, savouring his familiar scent for the last him

“You too, Jungkook,” you managed to whisper shakily, your voice barely audible.

Jungkook could feel his shirt dampened by your tears and it only made his guilt spread across his chest.

He pulled you away and looked at your tear streaked face.

He saw you taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Can you kiss me one last time before you leave?” you asked.

Jungkook looked unsure, and the hesitation was clear on his face. For a moment, you feared he would refuse, and the rejection would be too much to bear. But then, slowly, he nodded.

“Okay,” he said softly.

As Jungkook leaned in, you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips against yours.

The kiss was gentle and bittersweet, a reminder of what you once had and what you were losing. For a few brief seconds, the world around you both faded away, and it was just the two of you, locked in a final moment of connection.

When he pulled away, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. Jungkook wiped it away gently with his thumb, his expression tender.

“I’m sorry” he said.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. But knew he was genuine with his words with the way he looked at you and held you, like a delicate glass that was now fractured.

All you could do was hum.

“Goodbye Y/n, take care. I’m always here when you need me” he said.

But you needed him now, and during all the years he had promised you.

How could you tell him that you didn’t want to let him go?

“Goodbye Jungkook” you replied, your heart breaking all over again.

As you watched him walk away, you knew that this was the end of your story. A story that ended too early and abruptly, leaving you to figure out your own ending.

NEXT ➜

[13keithxpidge13]

Black Cat Hobie flirting and messing with Spiderman Miles whenever they cross paths. It's fun to watch the teen who is so obviously a year or two younger than him stumble over his words and fumble with his fingers as his cheeks darken behind his mask.

He's cute. He's a distraction. He's a fling.

...he's something more now.

"What grade are ya' in?" Hobie asks him one day as Spider-Man sneakily watches a bunch of thugs from atop the roof. "Like...ya' still in school? Or does Spider-Man take up ya' whole life?"

Spider-Man huffs. "Course I go to school, man," He hisses. "Spider-Man doesn't take up my whole life and I don't get paid for it either."

Hobie laughs at that. "Aight, what's the color of yer eyes, then?"

"Is this twenty questions?"

"I just want ta' know ya' more, baby," He smiles. "I've told ya' a lil' about me, why don't ya' share some facts with the class?"

"I have a secret identity for a reason, dude."

"So do I," Hobie shrugs. "But, I trust ya' enough to know some lil' things here and there. Like, ya' know my name's Hobie."

Spider-Man nods. "I mean...yeah. But, you told me that on your own accord!"

Hobie chuckles. "Sure did, sweets," He nods. "Come on, just humor me a lil'. Tell me just somethin' small. I don't need ta' know yer name or anything. Just tell me what hobbies ya' have or when ya' birthday is."

Spider-Man contemplates for a moment before sighing and whispering; "...I like to draw."

Hobie blinks. "Draw?" He hums and smiles. "That's so fuckin' cute, doll. What do ya' draw? I bet yer really good."

Spider-Man huffs and turns away and Hobie chuckles again, knowing he's flushed underneath his mask.

"I just draw for fun, man," He shrugs. "I dunno if I'm any good."

"Nonsense," Hobie scoots over closer to him and leans his chin on his shoulder so they both have a good view of the thugs below. He then hums and runs his hand up Spider-Man's neck and feels him shiver underneath his touch. "Ya' should show me sometime...go spraypaintin' in'some of the abandoned alleys...we could make a date of it, baby."

Spider-Man bats his hand away and shakes his head. "Thugs are making their move, let's go."

Then, he leaps down towards them and the battle starts.

Hobie sighs dramatically, wanting to whine in annoyance at being interrupted and jumps down to meet Spider-Man in the fray. He'll get him to agree to go on a date with him one day.

[arminsesposa]

Birthday Boy (Female Reader x Miles Morales)

It’s Miles birthday today 🧘🏽‍♀️ Happy Birthday to our Favorite superhero. rlly short fic for him. 🫡

As Miles spent his whole day taking care of Brooklyn, despite it being his birthday he decided to spend some alone time at the rooftop taking in the glistening sunset before he had to head home. As he took off his mask and was in the process of changing back into his regular clothes. He reflected back on his “special day” today. He started his day off by being tackled into the tightest hug and mountains of kisses by his mom, as he shared a quiet moment with his dad and hugged him tightly, before he got ready to leave for work. As Miles got ready for breakfast he saw that his mom had made him some cafe con leche with Pan de Mallorca which he ate with no hesitation. He noticed that his parents were quiet as they watched the news. “They must be planning something right?” Miles thought to himself as he ate his breakfast. As he checked his phone, he saw that you had sent him a good morning message and nothing else. Miles frowned a bit. “Did she really forget about today?” Miles thought to himself before snapping back to reality seeing the news about a bank robbery and quickly leaving his house.

As he reflected on his day, Miles hadn’t heard anything from you. He tried sending messages about him going on patrol only to be met by your blunt “ok”. It killed miles as he wasn’t sure whether you were joking. Did you actually forget about his birthday? Nah there’s no way… right? Miles didn’t want to ask about his own birthday surprise so he continued to sit down on the edge of the roof. As he saw the beautiful sunset he took a deep breath. For him he had a very chaotic year, filled with being a student, a son and Brooklyn’s superhero and most of all your boyfriend. He went through his messages in which some people wished him a good day, in much to his dismay he just wanted to be with you. He looked at his camera roll and smiled at all the photos he had of you. The ones of you sticking your tongue out at him, at the nearest bodega holding your favorite candy, and a selfie of you two at the park, both of you guys smiling wide. Miles chuckled a bit realizing how grateful and lucky he was to have you in his life. You were always by his side, even when you found out he was Spiderman and despite that, you guys became even stronger then ever. As he stared at the sun as the sky got dark his phone rang.

Miles glanced at the contact and hoped it was you, but to his disappointment it was his mom. He sighed disappointed thinking you really did forget about his birthday as he answered the call. “Que paso mami?” Miles asked his mom in a slight sad tone as his mom asked him to come home immediately. Miles heart dropped hearing the angry tone his mom had as he started to question everything he has done that must’ve made her upset. As he quickly used his webs to swing back home, He rushed to his house, almost in a state of panic as he got to his door and opened it. “Surprise!” Rio and Jeff both exclaimed wearing party hats as they had decorated their entire apartment. Miles smiled wide as he saw how happy his parents were, miles stood at the doorframe catching his breath. “Thanks you guys” he said as he went to hug his parents tightly. Despite still having to hide the fact he was Spiderman to his parents and constantly lie to their faces, His parents were always there to support him. As he smiled and his parents let him go, Rio patted his jacket down as she cupped his cheek. “My baby’s so big, go change Mijo” she said in a loving tone as Miles smiled at her. “Okay mom” Miles said as he headed over to his room. As he entered his room and turned on the lights he heard a voice. “Surprise!”

Miles stood there shocked as he saw you pop a confetti canon over his head as the confetti gently fell over him. He was stunned to see his room even more decorative filled with fairy lights and balloons, and a giant happy birthday tapestry. The multiple gifts on his bed wrapped neatly and perfectly with a bow on each and the multiple balloons that filled his ceiling as he looked at you. “I’m sorry for being so dry” you managed to speak up. “Believe it or not this was really hard to plan without you finding out” you said with a smile as you walked towards him. As Miles put everything all together, from you not answering his messages, canceling plans and always being “busy” Miles grinned widely as he went to hug you tightly. Deep down he knew you were planning something and was beyond excited to see what you planned for him. You were stunned as you felt Miles place his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re the best. I love you so much. You mean the world to me” he said softly as you returned the hug tighter. “Happy Birthday, birthday boy” you teased him softly in his ear as he chuckled. Rio and Jeff watching side to side near the doorframe, knowing how happy Miles is. As miles sat outside the dining table, with his birthday cake in front of him, he looked up at his parents and his amazing girlfriend singing to him. He remembered his alone time on the rooftop as he realized how grateful he was for everything. His life as Spider-Man, being a son, and most importantly being able to date you. He smiled as they finished singing to him as he blew out his candles; grateful for another year.

Bonus scene:

As Miles sat on his bed, you gave him his final gift for him to open. He had on the other side of him a growing pile of new markers, sketchbooks, t-shirts, new hoodies as he shook the gift gently about to open his last gift. “(Y/N) I’ll make sure Miles goes all out for your birthday mija,” Río said with a smile as Miles began to open his gift. “No way…” miles said as he opened the box to reveal the new pair of Jordan’s that he’s been wanting, along was a tiny Spiderman keychain that he held up. “A Spiderman keychain?” Jeff asked confused as Rio nudged him. You chuckled before speaking up. “He really is the best” you said with a smile before miles wrapped his arm around you with a smile.

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: werewolf steve and his pack. (I don't want them to call Steve 'mom')

My love, ask and you shall receive! This is still super different from my usual, so hopefully it’s okay. I didn’t edit this, but I know you’ll be kind of there’s mistakes ❤️❤️😘😘 Accidental wolf Eddie? Is that a trope? I’m making it one. Welcome to the party accidental wolf Eddie! - Mickala ❤️

———————————-

Steve was running late. He was never late.

Robin was pacing back and forth, staying in her human form so she could yell at him before shifting.

The kids had all shifted, nervous about doing so without their leader here, but feeling the itch. Robin sent them to Skull Rock already, not wanting them to be around when she tore Steve apart.

Deep down, she knew it was a good reason. Steve wouldn’t have been late if it wasn’t for an emergency.

But she was still mad at him for not trying to call them if he knew he was going to be late. He knew how the kids panicked if he wasn’t exactly where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be.

Especially since Billy.

Six months wasn’t enough time for them to move on, and even though Steve was going better, his wolf form still showed every scar from the interaction. It was tough for all of them to see, but they dealt with it.

Robin’s head perked up when she heard tires in the distance.

That better be Steve.

The hardest part of having “wolf tendencies” as they all jokingly called it, was the ridiculously good hearing they had in both forms. Robin could hear a pin drop from half a mile away. It proved to be pretty fucking distracting at school.

She could hear Steve’s footsteps coming through the woods, not running, but walking at a brisk pace, like he knew he was in trouble.

He wasn’t hurt then, at least.

Now she wouldn’t feel so bad yelling at him.

When Steve appeared though, he had someone with him. How had she missed the other footsteps?

She recognized him immediately as the school “freak”, Eddie Munson.

She never called him that, didn’t even know the guy really, but he was definitely odd.

She wouldn’t judge though. In fact, she needed to hear this explanation before she started in on Steve.

“Nice of you to show up.”

Okay, so she couldn’t help letting him know she was upset immediately.

“You weren’t kidding she’d be pissed,” Eddie mumbled.

“Yeah, she’s pissed,” Robin said as she crossed her arms. “Why is he here?”

Steve sighed.

“Sorry, where’s everyone?”

“I sent them out already. They’re worried. I’ve been worried.”

Steve looked to Eddie and gestured for him to speak.

“Okay, so this is kinda my fault. I was having a bit of a…uh…wolf problem? And Steve was there.”

A wolf problem. Eddie Munson had a wolf problem.

“What wolf problem could you have possibly had?”

Steve and Eddie shared a look. What the hell was happening?

“Uh. I turned into one?”

“Right. We do that? Like, often?”

“Well, I didn’t before today.”

Robin froze.

Normally, the first shift happened by your tenth birthday, sometimes earlier. It was almost unheard of for anyone’s first shift to happen after 13. So the fact that Eddie was 20 years old and just shifting made Robin concerned.

“Wait, never?”

“Never.”

“You’re sure?”

“Am I sure I’ve never become a werewolf before? Yeah, pretty fuckin’ sure.”

Steve snorted, but Robin sent him a glare.

“So, how did Steve get involved?”

“I was on my way here and saw him stumbling on the side of the road. I kind of panicked because he looked hurt. Pulled over, he was whimpering, I calmed him down so he could shift back.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Hurt my leg when I shifted. But it’s better now. Steve got me ice on the way here.”

Robin looked at the blush on Steve’s face, at the way Eddie was nervously playing with his rings.

“Oh my god.”

They both looked at her with those stupid Bambi eyes.

“You can’t be serious, Steve.”

“What?”

Eddie was inching closer to Steve, watching Robin and Steve talk.

“We don’t even know him! You welcomed him to the pack? He didn’t even know what a pack was an hour ago!”

“He can learn! Plus, he knows Dustin and Mike. He can’t be alone, you know how bad that is for us.”

“But now he’s your responsibility! Don’t you have enough kids to take care of?”

“He’s not a kid! He just needs someone to help him a little at first and then he’ll be just as valuable as all of us.”

“Jesus, Steve. You can’t let a stupid crush join the pack just because you feel bad. What happens when he doesn’t feel the same way? Think about what happened with Nancy.”

Steve felt his heart stop. Eddie let out a growl as he wrapped a hand around Steve’s waist.

Robin backed up immediately.

“Shit. He imprinted on you, didn’t he?”

“Robs.”

“Steve, this is dangerous. No offense to Eddie, I’m sure he’s nice and could maybe be pack someday, but this isn’t good. The kids won’t want to share you like this.”

“The kids or you?”

Robin looked down.

“Both.”

Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie, whispered something to him, then pulled away.

He walked up to Robin, pulling her into a hug.

“Robs, he’s not replacing any of you. That’s the point of a pack, we all have different roles but they’re all just as important. Don’t you think the kids were worried about the same thing when you joined?”

“I just don’t want you to forget that we all need you.”

“I won’t. We all have to help Eddie, okay? Not just me.”

“But he imprinted on you, Steve. That’s really serious. That never happens.”

“I know. It’ll be okay, though. We should go to the kids so they don’t come looking,” Steve said with a kiss against the top of her head.

Robin pulled away and walked over to Eddie, who looked like he wanted to cry.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Eddie nodded.

“You don’t have to be. We’re a family and now you’re part of it, okay?” Robin smiled at him, pulling him into a hug.

Steve nodded towards the direction they needed to walk, smiling at both of them.

It didn’t take long to get to where the kids were, all of them pacing in their wolf forms.

Robin went behind the rock to shift, still nervous to do so in front of everyone. Steve turned to Eddie before he did anything else.

“You don’t have to shift again if you don’t want to. But I need to, and we’ll probably all go for a run. If you wanna stay here, we don’t go far and we don’t go for long.”

“I wanna go.”

Steve smiled.

“Then let’s go.” He kissed Eddie’s forehead and smirked when his pack all let out huffs of air. “Ignore them, they’ll be fine.”

—————-

Shifting back to human was always a shock, but never as much as when they all did it together.

“Why the hell is Eddie here?” Dustin yelled as he threw his clothes on quickly.

“Language!” Steve yelled as he touched Eddie’s face, took a quick inventory of his breathing and overall mood. “Eds? Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Stomach hurts.”

“That’s normal the first few times. Just take a deep breath and let it out slow.”

“Steve! Why is Eddie here?” Mike asked.

All the kids surrounded them, Robin standing to the side with Max, helping her braid her hair again.

“Guys, he needs a minute.” Steve ignored them all, pulling Eddie close to him so he could relax against his shoulder. “Today was his first shift and he imprinted.”

“On you?!” Mike yelled.

“Mike, if you can’t chill out, then you need to leave.”

“Oh my god. You made him pack already, didn’t you?”

Steve ignored them still, his focus entirely on Eddie, busy helping him get his clothes on.

Steve kissed his forehead and turned to the group of kids with their mouths open.

“Holy shit.” They all said at once.

“I’ll answer your questions later. Eddie’s had a rough day, and he needs to get to a place where he can rest safely. You all remember how exhausted you were after your first shift. And you expected it. Eddie didn’t. Give him space.”

“But.”

“No buts. Robin’s gonna get you all home and we’ll talk tomorrow. But yes, Eddie’s pack, which means we all take care of him. This isn’t up for discussion.”

Luckily, the kids didn’t argue, and Robin was quick to follow Steve’s instructions.

Eddie was shaking in his arms, but he was still focusing on breathing, and letting Steve help him through it.

“You’re doing amazing, Eds.”

“This gets better?”

“It gets easier. It helps being part of a pack like ours, too.”

“They don’t want me here,” Eddie sounded sad, his body slumping completely into Steve’s side.

“Honey, that’s not it. They’re just used to it being us. They did the same with Robin.”

“I want them to like me.”

“You already know Dustin and Mike do. They’re just surprised is all. Everyone will love you.”

———————

Steve was right.

The next day, Eddie was woken up by all of the kids jumping on him and Steve in Steve’s bed, but he didn’t mind.

They all cuddled around them, Dustin claiming the small space between them.

Steve explained how he found Eddie, Eddie explained what he was feeling.

He explained how he felt with the imprint on Steve, how he felt slight panic the moment Steve started to separate from him. How it helped to be invited into the pack, but he still felt a pull to him.

That he didn’t realize this was even possible for him and as far as he knew, no one in his family were werewolves.

But much to Steve’s delight, the kids welcomed him with open arms. Literally. They all pulled him into a group hug and told him they were happy he was here.

Robin sat at the end of the bed, smiling at Steve.

She thought about how he’d been telling her only a week ago that he felt like their pack wasn’t complete, that it felt like a piece was missing.

But it looks like he found the piece. They all did.

[nothingsimpossumble]

I've been feeling feral about Amy ever since I made my mom watch Veep and explained a toned-down version of my interpretation of her. I'll probably do one of these for Selina too, but it's harder to compile because most of my thoughts about her are... trashier. So, here are my headcanons for Amy in the hailey_writes (c)literary universe.

There are Veep spoilers in here.

Pre-Canon

Amy was never given a canon birthday, so she shares a birthday with Anna Chlumsky: December 3.

Her family is shown to live near D.C., so I like to think she is from Maryland like Selina. When Selina started in the House, she was her district's Representative.

She is terrified of bees because her childhood best friend was killed by them.

She had few friends growing up because her peers thought she was too intense. She doesn't have many friends as an adult either, but it was worse in her youth.

In school, she was the classic anxious overachiever type of student. She was valedictorian of her high school class, and thought her life was over because she did not get into Harvard. She enjoyed Penn, though.

Family

No one in Amy's family likes or respects her at all. (I think that's just canon, though...) They have always been put off by how career-minded she is and how nerdy/academic she was growing up.

She is 5 years younger than her sister, Sophie. Although she does not like her either, she feels an obligation to try to create some sort of sisterly relationship with her. Sophie constantly makes fun of how gay she sounds when she talks about Selina and her job.

Selina

Amy was the 100th person Selina interviewed for her original job as a fresh college graduate. She hired her because she was impressed by her knowledge of politics for her age and her ruthless answers to behavioral questions. From the moment she first met Selina in person, Amy was smitten, although it would take her some time (months or even years, depending on what I feel like for the story) to realize it.

Amy has genuine feelings for Selina. It's a mix of codependency, low self esteem, mommy issues, admiration for her strength/power, the fact that Selina was the first person not to find her too intense, and the rare occasions when she's actually nice. Amy is pathetically eager to please her in any way she can. She also knows they can never have a public relationship, which is part of why it's so hard for her to leave the job, no matter how bad it sucks-- she doesn't want to give up Selina needing her in at least some way. The thing she wants most is to hear "I love you" from Selina, but deep down, she knows it won't happen.

The fact that she has genuine feelings makes her crazy jealous of anyone who comes near Selina, especially other women. Karen, Candi, and Minna are among her most hated people on earth. She doesn't know how to handle it because she is never Selina's official girlfriend.

The other person Amy hates the most for Selina-related reasons is Andrew. Not only is she jealous of his relationship with Selina, but she also hates him because he cheated on Selina while they were still married. It was the first time she ever saw Selina cry, and naturally Selina flung herself at clueless 22-year-old Amy for comfort, election night style.

She is somewhat touch averse and would prefer a large personal space bubble, but Selina is the major exception. This woman freaking loves touching Selina. (I have much evidence to support this.)

Dan

She was "official" with Dan for one week shortly before canon began, then walked in on him with a younger woman at his apartment, which is why she was soooo mad Selina hired him.

She starts to like him again when they are in Nevada for the recount. They are spending a lot of time together, and she wants to dull the pain of Selina immediately sending her hundreds of miles away after rejoining the team. When he sleeps with her sister instead, it becomes about wanting to hook up with him to "beat" Sophie.

Wanting to have his baby was temporary insanity brought on by all of her failures and rejections. I explain more at the end of this post.

Sexuality

Amy is bi with a stronger preference for women. While she did like Dan, we are shown that she did not like any of her boyfriends on the show. And her absolute devotion to Selina in the Iannucci seasons was just... wow. I go back and forth on whether or not she realizes this yet in my fics, though. Sometimes it's fun to play up how repressed she is because of her extreme dedication to her career, but sometimes it's better to have her aware because I don't feel like writing "gay awakening" stuff for a 30+ year-old.

When she is aware, then Selina was her original gay awakening, and she has been dying of thirst for over a decade.

She also has a praise kink. True hailey_writes enjoyers will notice that she gets called a "good girl" or is told she's being good for Selina at least once in every fic. She discovered this when she got egregiously horny the first time Selina ever complimented her.

She is always submissive when she's with Selina and will let her do anything she wants to her. With other women, she's happy in any role, but there are more boundaries than when she's with Selina. I think she'd prefer to be more dominant with men when she is actually into them, though, and is bored and detached when she isn't (like with Ed and Buddy). She hasn't let herself really explore her desires much, though.

She has a thing for older people in general but is not exclusively into them.

Poor Amy goes through a lot of dry spells :(

Post-Canon (I'm Sorry in Advance)

Selina killing gay marriage for Buddy's endorsement breaks what's left of Amy's heart. They have one last explosive hookup fueled by hate. (I very highly recommend this fic. It had my jaw on the floor. I don't think I can ever do one better than this, seriously.) Amy does not speak to her for decades after leaving the White House following Jonah's impeachment, although she thinks about their time together often throughout the rest of her life. She bonds with Catherine over Selina's betrayal but never tells her what she used to do with her mom.

Disillusioned with politics, she goes out to the Bay Area (this part is soooo specifically for me, sorry) for a while and works in venture capital. She has a serious relationship with that Clovis woman. It ends once Amy's firm loses billions of dollars in some crypto nonsense, causing the woman to find her incompetence staggeringly unattractive.

After losing all her money and having a deep existential crisis, she returns to D.C. This is when she marries Bill Ericsson because he is there, and she has nothing better to do. She takes a garbage political columnist job, never runs a campaign again, and gets really into raising greyhounds. Their marriage is very frigid.

When Selina is dying in the distant future, Amy does decide to go see her, even though she has not forgiven her at all. She is the only person who visits and ends up holding her hand as she passes away. She bitterly realizes that Selina ended up so irrelevant after she left office that they could have had a relationship after all, if Selina hadn't ruined everything. No one would have known or cared.

No Veep characters are allowed a happy ending, even if I love them a whole lot :(

One Thing That Really Bothered Me In Canon

The trope where a female character says she doesn't want kids and then ends up having them, or in Amy's case, deeply regretting not having them, bothers me. She goes from not wanting them in the early seasons, to making one offhand remark about freezing her eggs after Mandel takes over, to pregnant and wanting to keep it. There is no character development to bridge that gap, so it just comes off as the same tired (and honestly, misogynistic) trope to me. So no, I don't think she actually spends her entire life regretting her abortion. This essay does a good job of explaining why I don't like that kind of storyline.

I think it would be natural for her to feel some angst about getting older and losing the option to have kids, but that's the extent of it. My Amy Brookheimer would not be making sad comments about her childlessness in the distant future because the whole "I need to have Dan's baby right now, even though I've never wanted kids" arc was temporary insanity. Nothing was going right for her in seasons 6 and 7. The campaign she managed lost, she didn't get to try again for Selina's 2020 campaign, she was engaged to a closeted gay conservative guy, Selina hated her, Dan made her feel undesirable... Definitely enough to drive a gal insane! And we know she was losing it anyway because she joined Jonah's campaign right afterwards.

[coolspork]

I think one of the most heartbreaking things about the genocide in Gaza is that all the videos of people mourning and holding their loved ones wrapped in sheets and talking to social media and interviewers begging for their family and friends back is that the reaction burning in the back of my mind is to get the cameras out of their faces and let them mourn let them process, but we can't. If the cameras stop and turn away it's over. The fact that we have to record children crying that if their parents come back they promise to behave, people curled up on the gurneys silently holding bloody bodies wrapped in white, or else the world will just turn away and let them be wiped off the planet is absolutely abhorrent. The fact that the only way to keep aid and support for them going is to record moments that no one should ever be forced to share is so abysmally disheartening.

I'm a secular Jew but there's a part of me that prays to something that these people are given the time and space they deserve when there is a world that is safe for them. I can't stop thinking about how I have processed grief and how even in the best of circumstances it still felt like I was helpless while something inside me was thrashing and splitting me open and swallowing me whole, and I can't stop thinking about how it must feel to try and process that when you're fleeing for your life with entire families disappearing around you and to have someone on the other side of the world sitting in their safe, comfortable home see you grieving and try to tell you that you're a liar or that you deserved it or that you are a terrorist. It's fucking unfathomable and yet millions of people in Gaza are living it every day.

I see people around me side with right wing extremists and fascists just because someone told them opposing Israel is antisemitic and day after day post videos made by colonizers on "why palestinians are homophobic" and stupid pointless bullshit like that when entire families are dying just a few miles away from them. Pinkwashing, greenwashing, sitting in your pristine house trying to convince people that those children somehow deserved it. The amount of beautiful art I've seen because someone made a tribute video to a victim, knowing no more of it will be made, the videos of childrens birthday parties just a few months ago knowing they had their whole lives ahead of them, and someone somewhere is currently recording another condescending tiktok about why these people deserved to be erased.

I can't afford healthcare because my government is using that money to help erase an entire culture and people are still defending that choice. The fact that it's even up for debate is disgusting

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

[heyidkyay]

Oh my god now you’ve got the image of G and Birdie with a little baby girl into my head… you can’t not write it now! I’d love to see maybe them introducing their baby girl to the rest of the band… or anything else you can come up with 🤣

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name | The aftermath

A little snippet:)

--

My due date was March 23rd. Which meant that George would be getting quite the birthday present (if the baby had perfect timing) and that they’d most definitely be an Aries, which were two things I couldn’t quite get behind, but something G was ecstatic over. 

Matty had been hoping the little one would arrive a little late, two weeks late to be precise, just so that he could get one over on George and have the baby share something in common with him instead. He really had been an absolute sweetheart throughout the entire pregnancy, but my God was he pushing it trying to get me to extend the absolute hell I’d endured. 

I’d gone through almost every symptom pregnancy had to offer, from day one I’d felt absolutely vile and then when my second trimester had rolled round I’d had to deal with Braxton Hicks, an undeniable appetite (I’d felt like an actual monster), and dizziness that rivalled anything I’d ever felt before. Including the time when I’d been hit by a fucking car. 

Still, all of Matty’s efforts appeared in vain now seeing as though I went into labour on February 13th, five whole weeks before I was even due. 

To say I’d shit myself would have been an absolute understatement. I was fucking terrified to give birth, let alone that early, and to make matters worse, George had been set to play a show, which meant that he’d had no idea my water had broken until I was high as a kite on fucking gas and air, and he was finally off stage. But thankfully, I’d also been at work and Delia had been the one to walk me through the whole process, we’d headed straight to hospital, due to the fact that I should not have been going into labour this prematurely, but also because she was afraid I was going to give myself a sodding aneurysm simply down to the amount I was panicking. 

But who could blame me?

Anywho, the whole thing seemed a bit small in comparison to when I finally did give birth. We’d been blessed with a tiny, little baby girl- 7 lbs 4 ounces and with a head of thick unruly hair. But before George and I could even get a look in the doctor had told me to start pushing- again.

“They’re coming along quite quickly now, just a few more deep breaths.” 

“You what?” I ask the man in scrubs settled between my legs. Baffled wasn’t even a word I’d begin to use to describe the emotions that hit me right then, having thought I’d heard him wrong until I saw the alarming look on George’s face.

“We need you to push, you can already see baby’s head.” A midwife informs me, ushering George to once again take my hand, to comfort me. He does but he’s caught in a daze. 

“But, but I just did that bit.” I say, mostly stunned, delirious almost for a moment. 

“I know, and you did wonderfully. But baby two isn’t too far behind.” She replies, smiling down at me sincerely even as her attention diverts between a handful of other people stood in the delivery room. 

Her words seem to startle G back into reality, “Baby two? As in twins?”

“Twins! What the hell do you mean, twins?” I feel dizzy once more, head darting between the nurse beside me, G, and the doctor who’s seen a little too much of my insides for my liking. I think I start mumbling then, rambling off a ton of questions, a mile a minute, to anyone and everyone who will listen. Twins. “Are you sure? Twins?”

The nurse laughs, not unkindly, then nods, “Definitely sure, even saw it for myself.”

I’m still not really pushing, too confused, too stunned to really do much, in truth. “Are you having me on? Is this a prank?”

She appears to realise G and I aren’t messing about here and I watch on, frozen, as her whole demeanour shifts before my eyes, “Yes, sweetheart, twins. You really didn’t know?”

I shake my head and am just beyond grateful that George is here with me, holding my hand so tightly that I can truly feel it start to numb- because, what?

Things seem to take a turn then, the entire atmosphere in the room drops when beeping starts up and lights start flashing worryingly. The doctor at the other end of my bed is coaching me through it again, his voice high and harried almost, and I know then that something’s wrong and that it’s all my fault.

“What’s going on?” I ask, eyes immediately snapping over towards the nurse standing beside me but she’s gone, fiddling with the oxygen machine behind my head and then the heart monitor. “G, what- what’s happening? Are they okay? The baby. Are they?”

“You need to push. The baby is losing oxygen, we need to get them out as quickly as possible.”

My heart plummets. I start to panic. It’s my fault. My fault. I’m doing it wrong. I’m to blame. It’s all my fault. I’m messing up and they’re not even really here yet. I’m doing it all wrong.

“We need you to push harder.”

“Breathe.”

“Come on, mum. We need you to really push now.”

“That’s it.”

“Birdie, it’s alright. You’re okay, love. The baby is okay. You just need to push a bit more. Just a little longer, okay?”

I feel my head move- nod?- but the room is spinning, I reckon I’m screaming too. Sobbing, even. My mind so focused on the baby I hadn’t even known I’d been housing, let alone created. My baby. 

Two babies! Two.

I let out a loud groan. Barely even aware of the careful fingers on my temple. 

“Good girl, B.” George whispers to me, lips pressed against my cheek as he brushes hair from out of my face. “You’re doing so well. So good.”

I cry harder, I push harder.

Time seems to have stilled in its entirety, the minutes won’t move, the seconds don’t count. I am lost in this moment, my mind screaming at me to just try harder. 

“And it’s a boy!” I finally hear and then I’m weeping again, crying and clinging to George before he too is dragged away from me by nurses to cut the umbilical cords. I stare up at the ceiling, unable to do much else, chest heaving, thick tears streaming down my cheeks, and all I hear is an overwhelming buzz. The kind I’d grown so used to, starting in my left ear before it soon echos in my right. Jumping, back and forth.

“A boy, Birdie. A boy and a girl.”

I blink and George is there again, hovering over me. He takes my face in his careful hands and holds me so close that we are nose to nose. I realise then he’s crying too.

“Twins.” I whisper breathlessly, every inch of me burns, but I itch to get up, to move and see them.

“Twins.” George repeats with just as much disbelief. “Twins, B. Ours.”

A baby boy, he’d told me. A tiny thing, so full of surprises. He was born smaller than his sister, an even 6 lbs and only ten minutes behind, but his eyes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen, huge and so very innocent, placed between a scattering constellation of tawny freckles that dot his cheeks and kiss his lids. 

A girl and a boy. All ours. 

I’d been taken with them both the moment I’d set my sights on them, ‘the twins' people had dubbed them. ‘Let’s go see the twins!’ ‘The twins are finally crawling!’ ‘Somebody grab a camera, the twins are being cute again!’

Never did I ever believe I’d have a family of my own, let alone a husband or these two beautiful beings that always seemed to stare back up at me with an incredible amount of innocence. It stirs something deep within me each time they do, both the thought and the very sight of them, and when their tiny little hands wrap their way around my fingers I know that I’ll never feel this type of love again. I don’t think I could even begin to describe it.

They are beautiful and they are ours, and I know from the very bottom of my heart that I will protect them until the day that I die. Because, how could I not?

How could anyone not?

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 1

• Gen Tags. Found family, Daddy issues, Hurt and comfort, Gore.

• Summary. Harley D. Dixon is a tough yet sweet little girl who until the dead started eating the living, thought she had seen it all. Alongside a mismatched group of survivors in rural Georgia, Harley and her Dad are forced to leave their small life behind and learn how to survive all over again through the horrors of the apocalypse.

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

❤️Cross-Posted from Ao3.

Author's Note. Here we gooo! Argh, I'm so excited.

I've been wanting to write something like this for a long, long time. I've read just about every 'Daryl has a daughter' story out there, and now I've finally got my own to share. I just love Daryl, and Daryl with a kid is a whole other thing. We all know he wouldn't be the perfect parent, so you bet I'm gonna play right into that. He's gonna swear, he's gonna be strict, and he's gonna mess up. As for Harley (Yes, as in the motorcycle brand), I love her too. So ready to write her.

This story will cover the general plot of the show. To keep things fresh, I've made sure that almost every canon scene has undergone at least one small change. Plus, of course, many new scenes. Occasionally, I'll make bigger changes just to keep you on your feet! Nobody's safe! I'm also gonna be expanding on all the characters. And lastly — FOUND FAMILY! Piles and piles and piles of found family, eventually. I live for found family.

Please enjoy reading! :)

My Uncle Merle died today.

I'm sitting in a crinkly green camping chair, watching embers die.

I don't wanna think about my Uncle right now, so I think about something else.

The fire was built last night by Glenn and Morales. Then Lori came along this morning very quietly and made it alive again with logs and wads of notebook paper. Thinking about facts is easy. It's like sucking on a plain candy that tastes like nothing. There's a navy-blue blanket across my lap with three holes in it, perfect for nibbling, poking, and ripping. Dale gave it to me when the cold settled in this afternoon. He told me he reckons it's around June, as he covered my shoulders, which used to be his niece's birthday.

He says she looked a little like me. That means she's dead. So many people are dead, now.

A thin log in the campfire cracks and tumbles over after trying to stay upright all morning. I hope I don't look like that log.

I can hear Officer Rick approaching. My stomach becomes a stone.

I can tell it's Rick because he's got one of them power walks that you can hear coming from a mile away, which I think makes him pretty stupid. He's loud, and loud is dangerous, and dangerous is stupid. My Dad's not like that. Unless he's angry or running, ain't nobody hearing my Dad coming; especially not no squirrels.

He's almost as big as my Grandpappy Dixon, who people used to say was as big as a house, and he wears super heavy boots from a hunting store near our house — but he's still not loud, or dangerous, or stupid. Not like Officer Rick.

"Hey, Harley."

I think I hate Officer Rick. I think I hate everyone.

And I think I might be crying now, too. I focus on twirling the blanket strings around my finger so I have something very simple to think about, which is that it hurts real bad when I twist it tight. I see Rick crouch down in front of me. He takes a while to say anything else, and it's prolly 'cause he's tryna be real careful, so he don't make me cry even more.

If my Dad weren't out hunting, he'd prolly slap Rick and everybody else that's tried badgering me today dead for tryna do his job for him. I feel like, just by sitting here, I'm disobeying him. Rick ain't my Daddy.

"We, uh..." He clears his throat. "Me and Lori, and some other folks are uh... Well, we're all a little worried about you, honey, okay?"

I imagine a small group of folks gathered by the RV right now, watching me and Rick; wondering if he's gonna be the one to get through to me.

I'm worried for when my Daddy comes back. When he finds out about Uncle Merle, he's gonna be fuming. He's gonna be like one of them cartoon characters with the bright red faces and the smoke comin' outta their ears, stomping all around, and he's prolly gonna kill somebody. It's prolly gonna be Rick. He always told me cops are bastard liars, and that they can't help us.

I look up at Rick. Yep, I've been crying.

Rick's all blurry, but I can still make out his ugly Sheriff's badge and his scary blue eyes and his frowning eyebrows that look like clenched fists, and I can tell he's been waiting to be the one to talk to me. I bet he thinks it makes him better than everyone else; better than my Uncle Merle, who he left to die just 'cause he ain't like him. I wanna kick Rick right in the face. I think he knows this, but he doesn't move.

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry about what happened to your Uncle Merle." Rick says all nice and gentle.

Nothin' happened to him.

It weren't no freak accident, which is what Uncle Merle used to say happened to my Momma.

Rick killed him.

"I know he meant a lot to you. And I'm sorry. If I had'a known he had a niece to come back to, maybe I woulda been a little wiser with my decision makin'. But Harley," He tilts his head and puts a hand on my knee for this part. "You gotta know, like I know, that your Uncle was a danger to us all."

There's a little angry parasite inside of me. It's been growing and growing ever since the group came back from Atlanta, and I couldn't find my Uncle Merle in the crowd. I've never noticed my Uncle Merle so much than when I realised he wasn't there. It was like there was the wrong amount of space left in the air and Rick was taking up the too much of it. Ever since the cars showed up, everything has been wrong, wrong, wrong.

Ever since Rick showed up.

"If I hadn't stepped in when and how I did," Rick says, "Your Uncle wouldda gotten us all in a lotta trouble."

Another log crumbles in the campfire. My finger aches and pulses around the string.

That hungry little parasite — hungry for Rick to hurt like I'm hurting, needing it more than anything — makes me tell him, "I wish he did." And again, because it feels good. Rick becomes even more blurry, as my voice makes an embarrassing hicking noise. "I wish you died."

I expect to be hit. That's what happens sometimes, when little girls don't know their place.

Tellin' adults I want them dead — That ain't my place. And I know it. I just don't care.

My Uncle Merle wasn't a danger, he was just Uncle Merle; Has been since I could talk. He used to feed me bits of his sandwich out on the deck back at home, like the tomato, 'cause he ain't like the taste. He used to fix my bike when it was broken. He used to make sure I was the first one to open presents at Christmas, and help me wrestle the wrapping when there was too much tape. He used to pull my wobbly baby teeth out for me and let me outside without shoes. He wasn't mean, or bad, or loud, or dangerous, or stupid; at least not always. He wasn't the one that got my Momma killed. He was good. And now he'd dead.

If someone had to die, I wish it had'a been Rick — Stupid, noisy, idiot Rick who ain't shed one single tear after what he done to my Uncle Merle.

I wanna get hit. I want him to hit me so bad that I'm allowed to hit him back.

"Okay." Rick says, and I can't breathe.

I feel like everything goes silent throughout camp, like the chairs and the cars and the people are all holding their breaths like I am. He actually looks a little sad, which feels really, really bad, because I wanna be angry.

"Okay. That's okay."

But as I think about my Uncle Merle, and the tomatoes, and my old bike, and what Christmas used to feel like, and my Daddy, and how he ain't even know about Merle yet, I realise I'm just really, really sad.

I can't even see Rick anymore, my eyes are so watery. My whole body hurts from being sad. I feel like I'm sick and I need to go to the doctor, but I don't even know what for. There aren't even any doctors here. Just two bastard liar cops, some campers, and a space where my Uncle Merle should be.

I think, after a while, Rick leaves.

My Dad still keeps his wallet.

It's in a backpack under his sleeping cot. He says that everything inside that bag will keep us alive some day, if we ever need to leave the quarry camp. He said I need to know exactly where it is so that I can grab it if he can't. He showed me everything the night we got here, because he forced me to, because it's important. The other kids don't learn stuff like this from their parents. It makes me feel smart. I'm in on a secret. He showed me the bug spray, which keeps our skin healthy from bug diseases, and he showed me the flashlight, which has two batteries and a big black button. He showed me the compass, the box of matches, the big knife, the little knife, the rope, and the map. It's like a Jenga tower. If we lose even one thing from the backpack; everything topples, and we die — I die. You gotta listen t'me, chicken. My Daddy's always been like this.

But the wallet made no sense.

We don't gotta pay taxes no more, like Merle said. I don't know what taxes are, except they're bad, and gone, and nobody liked them anyway. And I saw my Dad burn all his money in a campfire one night, so it can't be that.

It's the pictures, Dad told me. He flipped it open like a book, and we looked at 'em together on top of his sleeping bag. I felt like crying for a second because we forgot all my storybooks when we left our house, but Daddy hates it when I cry, so I dried up. Crying is for babies, and I'm a big girl. He showed me a photo of an actual baby, and after he touched the baby's face with his fingertip, he said the baby was me. I didn't think I could look like that. He stopped talking for a while. I listened to the cicadas in the trees to pass the time while he touched the photo. Then it was bedtime.

I'm looking at the photo now, waiting for him to get back.

I was a very pink baby. I was only the size of his forearm, which in the photo, hasn't been tattooed yet. The tattoo of my name is missing, which goes up his wrist in curly letters. Harley Davidson Dixon. It's the name of a motorcycle. The tattoo of the skull and the bleeding angel are missing, too. He's fixing my baby blanket around my chin. I guess he's been doing that since the day I was born. Every night, at least up until last week, my Dad tucks me into bed and sings me the same song. Hush little baby, don't say a word. Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. I like his voice when he sings to me. Usually, he's yelling, or grumblin', but in those twenty seconds before I have to go to sleep, and nobody else is listening, he's softly whispering the lyrics to me, and touching on my ears and my cheeks. In the photo, he's crying down into his smiling mouth. That's something he doesn't do anymore.

The next photo is of us at the zoo. I know it was taken on one of the weekends I was at my Dad's house, because my Momma's not in this one. Just my Dad and two of his friends, I think, who are throwing rock star hands in the air. I'm wearing a black shirt with a videogame character on it that my Dad likes, and brown pants. I'm sitting on my Dad's hip as we pose in front of three giant elephants. My Dad's got a tiny purple backpack over his shoulder that makes him look sorta funny. It used to be mine. I'm looking at the elephant's long, silly-straw trunk as it tries to sniff us, but my Daddy's lookin' at me. I wish I remembered this day.

The third photo is a school photo with a swirly blue background. I remember this one. My Momma did my hair that day.

I know why he keeps his wallet, now. Just like how we need the bug spray, and the matches, and the rope, and the knives, and the map, and the flashlight to stay alive — I think my Dad needs these photos. They won't keep him warm or stop bugs from chewing on him, but he needs them.

I shove the wallet back where I found it, 'cause I'm not meant to be goin' through my Dad's things.

My Dad comes back while I'm vomiting under a tree.

At first, he doesn't see me. He calls for me to come get my little butt over there, so I can help him and Uncle Merle stew up some rabbits for dinner but when he hears me retch, he comes running over. I hear his crossbow drop and some more people call after him.

One minute, Lori and Amy are holding back my hair and patting my shoulders the best they can, and the next, my Daddy's forcing his way in. I'm rocking and I'm swaying like I'm on a life raft in the ocean, and I can hear Rick's voice and then Shane's and then Dale's. My Dad grabs the back of my neck and squeezes it, the way Lori and Amy would never know how to do, and tells me to lean forward some more. It works. I vomit up a chunky puddle of peaches and jerky into the dirt.

Then, I'm empty, and I'm crying — crying hard — into my Dad's lap.

"Someone wanna tell me what the Hell's goin' on here?" He snarls at whoever's around.

Feels like half the camp is here.

"How 'bout we all just try—" Shane's suggesting, but my Dad cuts him off.

"How 'bout ya'll just spit it out? And where the Hell's my brother?"

That makes me bury deeper into my Dad's legs, moaning and hiccupping. He puts a hand over my head. He's clocked the problem.

"Where the Hell's my damn brother?"

"Look, Daryl," Shane levels, "I'm just gonna come out and say it, alright? There was a problem in Atlanta."

My Dad's panting, now. "What fuckin' 'problem'?"

"Listen—"

"He dead?" Underneath me, my Dad's muscles are lurching and stopping, lurching and stopping, like he wants so much to just jump up and knock Shane to the ground, but he won't bring himself to leave me. The camp has gone completely silent.

Shane stammers. I've never heard Shane stammer. "We're— We're not sure."

The silence just keeps on goin' and goin' and goin', and somehow, it's even scarier than the yelling.

"There's no easy way to say this," Rick says, voice lowered. I wonder what my Dad looks like; if I was right about the cartoon thing.

Dad presses my head further into his stomach. "Who're you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"'Rick Grimes'." He spits, like it's an insult. It is. Bastard cop liar. "You got sum' you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all." Lies Rick. "So I handcuffed him on a roof; Hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

After he says this, something in the air must have changed; something must have snapped without even makin' a sound, because Lori's whispering to me that I should follow her back to camp, like we're running out of time. She tries to pull me away, but I kick her; kick her hard, in the shin. She tries again. I realise she's trying to separate me from my Dad. Then, I realise he's sorta shaking. Lurching, stopping, lurching stopping. Silence, silence.

"Lemme get this straight." Dad whispers, and it's not the nice kind, like when he sings. "You're tellin' me that you handcuffed my brother to a roof."

Glenn's pulling at me now, too. Nobody else moves a muscle.

"And you left him there?!"

This time, he lurches and he doesn't stop. Glenn catches me as I'm flung from my Daddy's hip, and he passes me off to Lori as Dad goes lunging at Rick. The brown pebbles go flying up into the air. My Dad tackles Rick at the waist, and they crash into the leaves and the twigs, and his fist — The one with my birth date tattooed on each knuckle — goes smack, smack, smack, into Rick's cheek. There's yelling; scrambling. Glenn and Shane pull my Dad off of Rick, and that smacking sound stops. Dad beats Shane offa him and then, — 

"Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells. Now there's a swishing sound, and grunting sounds, and I was right — My Daddy's gonna kill Rick.

My Daddy's killed someone before. He did it on accident, 'cause he got so angry that he didn't stop until the guy was dead and gone, which means that it was aggravated manslaughter. It was in the afternoon, just like it is right now, and I was playin' in the front yard in the sprinklers. My Dad and Uncle Merle were in the open garage, smoking and poking at their bikes with tools. Ronnie lived two trailers down. I was small, and easy to pick up, so I don't remember much, but Ronnie snatched me up right there in the yard. My Daddy says he was gon' take me. But he didn't let him. Ronnie got chased into the woods, and for two days, my Daddy and Uncle Merle searched for him. Then they beat him so bad his Momma ain't recognise him when the ambulance people dragged him out in a big black bag, and the cops took my Daddy away while the sun rose. I wasn't allowed to see him for four and a half years.

I need my Dad. Suddenly, I'm shrieking at him to stop, even though I want Rick dead so bad. By now, Shane's got my Dad in a chokehold up against a tree. Are he and Rick allowed to take my Daddy away? Lori and — I think that's Amy — are shushin' me, but I just keep hittin' on them and shouting.

I writhe in the dirt. "Stop! Daddy!"

"Damn pigs!" Dad growls. "You're stressin' out my kid, now! Lemme the Hell go!"

Shane laughs. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Then he turns to Lori, because what my Dad said is true. "Get Harley out of here."

I don't let her move me when she tries.

Dad struggles. "Chokehold's illegal, bastard!"

"You can file a complaint later." Shane scoffs. "We got all day here."

Rick steals my Dad's knife off the ground and gets in his face. His cheek is all red and purple. The fight's over. "What I did was not on a whim," He tells my Dad straight. "Your brother does not work and play well with others. I did what had to be done in the moment, to keep us all alive."

He's lyin'. He's lyin' again. My Uncle Merle chopped these people's firewood and brought them meat. He worked well.

My Dad shoots out a foot to try hit Rick in the crotch. He misses. Shane pushes his face harder into the tree.

"It's not Rick's fault." T-Dog holds up his hands, coming close. "It's mine. I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Dad sasses.

"It fell in a drain." T-Dog serves up this answer like it means anything at all. I hate him.

"If that's 'posed to make me feel better, it don't." 

"Well, maybe this will." T-Dog's lookin' at me, now, too. "The door to the roof — I locked it with a padlock so the geeks couldn't get to him. There's a good chance he's still alive."

I heard this all before, when all them people kept coming up to me at the campfire. Lori told me to get some food in my stomach; the peaches and jerky. Shane tried to make me go play with Carl. T-Dog said sorry over and over again. Dale gave me the blanket. Rick made me cry. I know how this goes, though. Gettin' someone killed and killin' them with your actual hands are the same thing. I know that.

"To Hell with all'a ya'll!"

He shakes Shane off and beelines for me. He takes me from Lori with bloodied hands — Rick's blood — and I let him yank me by the back of my shirt to my feet, and I fall into his chest when he crouches. His breath is heavy on my neck. Even his skin is hot.

Lori's pale as an egg. I think she's scared of my Dad.

He takes a big breath, stands up, and drags me by the hand back to our tent without sayin' another word.

[doyourememberrocknrollradio]

Five Songs to Get to Know Me:

The Johnny (aka @omarandjohnny) edition!

Since we're all gathered in this little corner of the site due to our love of music, what better way to introduce ourselves than to share a few songs that we just aren't ourselves without!

Enjoy the Silence/Depeche Mode

My number one of all time, the one that's embedded in my DNA, will always be Enjoy the Silence. (you don't spend eight plus hours in a tattooist's chair getting a design for a song you only sorta like 😉)

I'll go with my favorite version of it as well-

While the rest are in no particular order, they're all just as important:

Everything She Wants/Wham!

Now, this one is not so much about the lyrics, but more the fact that it always brings me back to a specific childhood memory- some time in the late '80s, sitting in the car (waiting on mom) as it's pouring outside, fussy little brother in the backseat, and this pops on the radio. Turns out, the chorus worked great as a simple call-and-response song to keep little brother engaged and entertained. Just a sliver of time, kept forever in a song. What a gift 💜

Nemesis/Shriekback

I want to say it's been at least twenty years now since I was first recommended this song (in the wayback times of Livejournal). Person who rec'd it was a friend of mine who said I personally needed to KNOW this song. After one listen, I understood what they meant. It's been a staple favorite ever since.

Blue Velvet/Bobby Vinton

Another song as time capsule- This one takes me back to Christmas '89, on our way home from Indy- the Christmas lights peeking through the snow every other mile or so from the farmhouses we passed, Mom and little brother sound asleep, Dad turning the radio up just enough for me to hear as we drove back in the dark. About halfway home, this song came on, and Bobby's voice just seemed to glide over the snow with us.

Don't Fear the Reaper/Blue Oyster Cult

Can't have a song list without a favorite concert experience, right?

I was extremely fortunate to get the chance to see them perform in 2004 (my brother took me as a late birthday/early Christmas gift), and it still is my favorite concert-to-date! They played all the goodens, and of course, closed with Don't Fear the Reaper. I cried my eyes out, it was just so magical.

---

And now that I've shared my five, I welcome our followers and friends to join in with yours!

You can submit your list, or tag us on your personal blog post(s) so we can reblog it here, but we'd love to see it either way!

[lovebillyhargrove]

Part 3 of Billy knows his limit Part 2

Steve knows he can be a coward. He's fought monsters and gone through hell and back but he can still be a fucking coward.

Just like that time, at the Byers' when he first saw the lights flickering and unbelievable shit happening right in front of his eyes, he ran. He was terrified. The instinct told him to get out of there, and he did.

Steve knows he can lose if he's fighting fear. It's possible.

That's the reason why Steve ignored Hargrove on the following Monday after jerking each other off in Tommy's bathroom. Steve had wanted to touch this popular Californian asshole for months, get his hands burnt a little on the hot unfamiliar sun, and it happened so that the stars aligned - he crossed Billy's path, took Billy's hand.

And Hargrove followed.

Did Steve want to do it again?

God, yes. More. More.

Did Steve approach Hargrove in broad daylight in front of the whole school knowing what they did?

He didn't. He panicked and he didn't and maybe he shouldn't have led Billy to that bathroom in the first place.

Steve laced up his Nikes and ran.

Steve'd wanted to touch Hargrove for so long, but after he did, the level of magnitude with which his usual beliefs and ideas were shaken, terrified him. Left him running for his life.

But only. The secret that they shared. It was scorching him. Wasn't letting him be.

Steve did come back to the Byers' that night though. Couldn't leave Nancy and that weirdo in trouble.

~

This Sunday Steve wakes up and goes to the garage. His parents are in their apartment in Indianapolis. As most of the time. He slides the door up, and there it is - the gift his father bought to himself for his 45th birthday

the red 1983 BMW r65. His dad spent a fortune on it. And it is,

A beauty. Steve's sliding his palm over the cool fuel tank and the soft leather seat.

Yeaah

His father would have a fit if he knew Steve's even looking at it.

"No, son, you cannot ride it. You don't have a proper driving license for that. You are absolutely not allowed to ride it and you cannot touch it."

Little did he know, but Steve could, in fact, ride a motorbike.

Indianapolis was only 70 miles away from Hawkins. In summer of 1984 Steve went to Indianapolis to take motorcycle classes. Hawkins was too small to find those. He dropped it the moment he understood he could ride a motorbike without being a major road safety hazard, and since then he couldn't help but take the BMW out for a ride a couple of times. Or more than a couple. Dad didn't have to know.

His father practically never rode the bike himself. He was seldom in Hawkins, didn't have the time. The bike was like a valuable possession, treasured and abandoned in the garage. Stood there all alone.

Was kinda unfair, in Steve's opinion. So he kept it company.

It's the last week of school. Tomorrow is Monday, their last basketball practice.

Steve's gonna skip it.

No more hiding.

~

After dodging practice Steve got into his beamer and drove home. Took a 5-minute shower, changed his clothes, put on a light jacket, went downstairs and slid the garage door open. The BMW was already waiting for him. He took care of it yesterday, checked if everything was okay. The black helmet was right there on the shelf. He didn't have the second one, but who knew if he would actually need it. His plan could go sideways and end up in a crash.

~

Steve slowly pushes the bike outside and closes the garage door. His palms are sweaty and his heart is racing. Fuck, it's worse than any of his prior little adventures. It feels too big, and it certainly doesn't feel like an adventure. Steve's as serious as a heart attack. He's gonna have one, soon, if his heart doesn't slow down. His breath catches in his throat, and he hasn't even got to the school/best part of it yet.

He gets on the bike and turns the ignition key. The engine comes alive, and its rumble sends a thrill down Steve's spine.

Nah. Hargrove won't be able to resist this baby. He doesn't stand a chance.

When Steve gets back to the school parking lot, the first thing he notices is that the camaro is still there. People are starting to spill out of school. It's the last week of studies, and there's an undertone of excitement to everything that's happening.

He parks the bike not far from Billy's car, gets off, takes off the helmet and leans on the bike, waiting.

Steve's heartbeat becomes too loud when he sees Hargrove go out of the school building. He's afraid his legs are gonna give in and he's gonna fall down together with his fancy BMW and make a sight out of himself. What the fuck is happening, has he never been after a girl before? He has, but this shit's a million times more intense.

The heart beats and beats and beats and then stops when he feels Hargrove's eyes land on him.

He's read it in books and seen it in the movies. When two people are surrounded by a crowd, but they say "the world stops turning" and the two people only see each other, only have eyes for each other. The world didn't stop, but it definitely became slower and the time seemed to turn into some kind of a viscous syrup that takes forever to pour out from a narrow-neck bottle.

Steve's heart is pounding in his head again and Hargrove's looking as if not sure what to do, as if he's still figuring out if this message is meant for him. It's obvious he wants it to be for him.

It's a cliché, but they are standing there like they are alone in the parking lot. In the universe.

It's a cliché, but now Steve knows that the cliché is real and so true.

Steve smiles.

"Hey Hargrove!"

Billy snaps out of it, comes up to him, slowly

"Nice ride, Harrington."

There's no bite to it. Steve feels the envy though. Billy's just a boy who likes cars and bikes and anything fast. Except, maybe .. kissing? Steve wants to find out so bad.

"Yeah, not bad, huh? That's not mine though. My dad's. But I thought, why not, you know .. take it out for a spin?"

Billy's checking out the BMW. He's gonna say yes, he can't resist, it's too much of a temptation.

"You should. Do you know how?"

"Yep, I do. Took classes and shit. You like it? I can give you a ride, if you.. want."

Billy's eyebrows rise just a millimetre

"Oh yeah? I have my own wheels, Harrington."

"I know, but I figured .. we could.. Max has her AV club till 4, right?"

"You know the brats' schedule better than me."

"I could drive you around, go to the quarry. Or to .. a lake."

Billy snorts

"A lake, Steve?"

"Yeah. Lovers' lake. Ever been?"

"Maybe. And I'm gonna, what? .. Sit behind you like I'm your bitch?"

Steve's blushing.

"More like my.. partner in crime? My dad will kill me for taking his bike. But.. bitch is also, uh. An option."

"Wow wow wow, Harrington. In front of the whole school, no less. Everyone's looking, King Steve."

Everyone is looking.

"I uh.. I don't give a fuck. Let them look. Okay it's not like I'm gonna be running around telling everyone I've held your dick.. and not because I'm ashamed or anything. It's because.. that's only between me and you. But I'm also not gonna act like a stranger around you. And .. I was stupid for acting like that, Billy. I know you're angry."

Steve takes a deep breath. Billy's silent. He can feel the I'm sorry written all over it.

"You want the truth? I'm still afraid of you, Hargrove. Scared shitless, if I'm honest. But I'm done hiding. So .. if you're still uh .. interested.."

Steve falls silent too. They are looking into each other's eyes and Steve can swear he feels the time stop. Just like they say it does. It's Billy who breaks the gaze, eyes cast down for a second, smiling quietly more to himself than to Steve, standing there in the Hawkins High parking lot, so unspeakably beautiful under the warm late spring sun rays.

"So.. Lovers' Lake, pretty boy?"

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

i still can’t believe the lovely and incredibly talented @ps2fog wrote me a milex fic for my birthday???? 😭 i’m not even a tiny bit over the fact they wrote something specially for me, or how absolutely BEAUTIFUL it is. like genuinely, it took my breath alway. it’s the the most poetic, lyrical, introspective little snapshot of alex’s thoughts as he’s sharing a cigarette with miles, and if you haven’t read it already you should absolutely check it out! i truly feel so blessed to have made such lovely friends in this little space here 🫶🫶🫶

[phoebe-delia]

if I could fall into the sky

Hello! So here’s the thing. I saw this art by @lilbeanz a long while back and was hit with the sudden, stark realization that I have been here well over a year and somehow NOT written a songfic to "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton. I have finally decided to rectify that.

This takes place in the "this is me trying" universe, because it remains probably my favorite thing I've written and also this song is perfect for a scene I've got in mind. You don't need to have read the fic already to know what's going on. I’ve also changed it to fit Draco’s POV.

Also. This is a late birthday gift for the incredible @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm. Joy, you are fucking incredible. As a person and a creator. Thank you for sharing your light with us for a few trips around the sun.

Here’s something pensive and brooding. I hope it makes you feel even a fraction as dreamy and floaty as your creations do for us all.

This was one of the best parts of his day, the walk to the tube station after work. When Draco first got the job, he tried to make the entire journey back to his flat on foot, but he was cursing himself for going on a twenty-minute walk before and after a several-hour shift on his feet. But the tube station was a solid five minutes away from the diner, and figuring out the transit system wasn't too daunting once he figured out the few routes he needed to know.

Riding the tube felt like a cross between the Hogwarts Express and the Knight Bus. Besides, he quite enjoyed the commute once Lindsey showed him how to get music on the little device she'd made him buy once she'd realized he was utterly clueless about popular culture—at least, her kind.

And Draco's kind, now, too.

As he clicked the headphones around his neck, easily accessible once he boarded the tube, he wondered whether Potter had one of these; f he carried music with him wherever he went. If he, too, needed to quiet the voices in his head with someone else's.

He scowled to himself. Fucking Potter.

One of the bright points of his de facto exile from the Wizarding World was the fact that he'd thought he might not ever have to see Potter again. Draco was more than happy with the cool politeness they'd maintained in the last year at Hogwarts. He'd left the school flooded with relief that he and Potter were finally, blessedly, neutral.

And he felt he'd earned it, too. He'd done his best. He'd paid reparation, tried to read about and experience parts of the world he'd never known or considered before. He was working at a Muggle diner and went to Muggle university for fucks sake. The diner was frustrating work—certainly not the kind of job he'd ever expected to hold, but still gave him a strange sense of satisfaction at the end of each shift. Certainly not the kind of rush he got during his classes during the day, but it was enough.

He was fucking proud of himself, truth be told.

Until Potter had shown up at the diner the previous night and seen Draco in his uniform, and Draco absolutely could not handle it.

So he'd fled, hoping Potter would get the message that Draco did not want to see him at all. That he simply wanted to live his life. To move on.

When Potter arrived again tonight, Draco'd thought Potter either could not seem to comprehend that Draco wanted nothing to do with him, or didn't care. He'd worked his shift half distracted trying to figure out whether Potter was malicious, or just plain stupid.

Neither, as it turned out, or so it seemed. Potter seemed to take a genuine interest in Draco, and that could bring nothing but chaos into the life Draco had so carefully crafted for himself. With his small flat, his job, and his writing classes, Draco was sure his posh, sneering Father would have a heart attack if he knew.

Draco had never felt richer in his life.

His past and present were separated; starkly different. Draco had been careful to carve his new life away from the Wizarding World. Leave no trace behind.

And then Potter—with his crooked smile and impossible hair and startlingly green eyes—just had to blur the lines. He had to mess with the boundaries and walls Draco had put in place.

But then—Potter had seemed so deeply earnest. He’d looked at Draco with that same spark of determination he had when they were kids—but this time with an open hand instead of a clenched fist. Draco shivered at the memory of it; at the feeling of Potter’s eyes on him in that burning, almost predatory gaze. His childhood fantasies were nothing compared to the visceral lived experience of being on the receiving end of Potter’s tenacity.

It hit Draco then, as he neared the tube station, the moon staring knowingly at his back, that he couldn’t wait to feel it again.

[bivsinfragments]

Happy birthday(best bro;)

it's still 18 days to your birthday my bro, but i am writing this before cause you know how excited i get about birthdays, so if your are reading this it is your birthady so my fav hooman happy birthday! 🎉 Another year older, as you dive headfirst into another year of adulting, I just wanted to take a moment to remind you how much you mean to me. Even though life has been keeping you crazy busy lately (seriously, do you even have time to breathe?), I want you to know that not a day goes by when I don't miss your goofy jokes, the time when you roasted my crushes and most importantly, your very important life advices

Sure, we might not get to chat as often as we'd like, what with your hectic schedule and all (seriously, can you spare a minute to text your favorite sister?), but that doesn't change the fact that you're still my favourite, my fellow troublemaker, and my best friend rolled into one. Remember all those times when i used to do nothing but rant about how hard life is and you'd listen? who else am I going to rant everything about my life if you're not around?

But in all seriousness, bro, I couldn't ask for a better brother. You've always been there for me, whether it's to offer sage advice, or simply share a laugh over a ridiculous meme. And even though life may pull us in different directions at times, know that my love for you knows no bounds.

So here's to you, my dear brother, on your special day. May it be filled with laughter, love, and lots of cake (preferably the chocolate kind). And hey, whenever you're ready to take a break from adulting and finally have the time you can shoot me up a text . I'll be waiting, ready to annoy the shit out of you ranting about how hard life is XD Happy birthday, bro! 🎈🎂🎁

Though miles may separate our embrace, In my heart, you hold a special place. For you're not just a brother, but a friend, A bond that lasts until the very end.

So here's to you, my brother dear, With every moment, you bring me cheer. In this journey of life, come what may, I'm grateful for you, every single day. (it took me a lot of time to rhyme this so you better appreciate) lysm<3

[jeanmoreausautismstickers]

Sirius sighs, shrugging. "Well, er, actually Mary, I've got a party to attend." Mary whirls around, glaring at him. "What?" Sirius runs a hand through his hair, looking down. "James is throwing a party, I need to go. I'm going to have to miss your show. Sorry."

Mary stares at him a moment, slowly crossing her arms. "You know what makes me crazy? I'm sorry, can I say this?" Sirius rolls his eyes. "You will anyway." "You know what makes me nuts? The fact that we could be together, HERE together. Sharing our night. Spending our time! And you're gonna choose someone else to be with!" Sirius shakes his head, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "No I'm not, Mare, it's just-" She slaps his hand away, continuing over him. "No you are, yes Sirius, that's exactly what you're doing! You could be here with me or be there with them, and as usual, guess which you pick!" Sirius shakes his head again. "No I just have to-" Mary scoffs, talking louder to drown him out. "No! You do not have to go to another party with the same twenty jerks you already know!" Sirius opened his mouth to interrupt again, but Mary's began shouting. "You could stay with your girlfriend on her fucking birthday! You could, God forbid, even see my show! And I know, in your soul, it must drive you crazy that you won't get to play with your little boyfriends!" She takes a breath, and Sirius uses it to interrupt. "You're being ridiculous."

Mary scoffs at him again, hand twitching as if she wants to slap him. "No, I'm not. No! I'm not! The point is, Sirius, that you can't spend a single day that's not about you! And you! And nothing but you! Marvelous, Marauder you! Isn't he great, just 18! The saviour of singing! You and you and nothing but you! Miles and piles of you!"

She reaches up, brushing a tear off her cheek before pulling the promise ring off her finger. She throws it into the lake behind them. "I swear to God, I don't understand how you can just stand there straight and tall and see I'm crying! And do nothing at all!" With that, she shoves past him, storming back up the path to the opera house.

Sirius stares after, not quite understanding what's happened, when his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket, accepting the call from Remus.

"Hello?" he mumbles into it. "Hey, you're still coming tonight right? I've got a surprise." Sirius's stomach flips at the thought of what the surprise might be. "Yes, yeah. On my way now. See you in a bit, darling."

[colleenmurphy]

"B...Bruce! Pull. Up! I SEE TREES! We almost HIT THAT EAGLE!"

Was all he heard from his terrified flight companion turned in flight entertainment. Her long dark hair was spilling down from it's plastic hair clip and her aviators were sliding down her nose as her hands waved wildly at the clear blue sky that matched her eyes.  He couldn't help but grin a slow easy grin at her. She was truly his fish out of water today. 

"Man...you're a mermaid, huh?"

"If I'm a mermaid then you're an albatross!"

The belly of the plane was mere inches from the pristine tree line as they roared along with the flight path of the local geese. He had to admit her hometown was a pretty little place. Pulling up they had a better view of some cozy houses along the coastline. In fact they buzzed Minnie's place as they spotted her in the back yard having a cigarette. He decided to show off a smidge and loop a hello before continuing on. The neighbor's grandson now things the Murphy house is the coolest place on earth.

He'd been born in Chicago, moved around to Indiana as a kid and then joined up to the Army on his 18th birthday. He'd been in Florida ever since after he'd come home from his three tours. The woman to his right was about ten years his junior, an internationally licensed boat captain named Mary Colleen Murphy, or Col as she preferred to be called. Currently marveling at the view her face lit up like a kid at Christmas.  He could count the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the fact that her eyes were now tinged a little spring green meant she's calmed down enough to enjoy herself. The fact that they could simply pack a bag and fly out to her hometown from their place in the Hatcher Keys blew her mind. To Bruce it was just another two hour flight that went smoothly. 

"I can deal with being a bird. Here's the part you hate..."

He figured ample warning would help settle her stomach. She knew that the most critical time was during take off and landing, it still didn't help her body to know not to gag at an angle normally not achieved. 

"I doubt I'll ever get my license. I've a feeling that's not looked kindly on during the final exam?"

Her dry reassurance to him that she was fine. They were traveling light this time, just some luggage and gifts for the family and friends she had to introduce him to. There had been talk to merging her mother's bar, The Gull's Nest and their place The Trade Winds but they had yet to put anything into writing. Minnie was setting to retire and move closer to her own mother in Miami so it only made sense to keep it in the family...unless Harvey Starling, Col's god father wanted first dibs at a turn key operation. Bruce knew Colleen would gladly do that over taking it over. Even though she lived down south nearly 1500 miles away she still cared about the town where she'd grown up. 

"BVY tower, N2789 5 miles west, inbound for landing."

The crackle of the controller picking up filled his head. Whoever it was had a hell of a head cold. 

"N2789 you're clear for landing. Welcome to Massachusetts."

"I can't just take it from them, Bruce. The Gull's Nest was built by my great grandfather when the town was founded. Second on the waterfront besides the old butcher and green grocer. Did you know the Starling's used to own that? That's how far back our families go...oh my god Harvey! Hel's florist shop is right there...perfect!"

He'd heard her last night as she'd packed for them both. He'd admitted to her that he didn't have a clue about packing for cold weather anymore so she had delighted in walking him through her process and parts of her family's backstory came out as she carefully rolled his shirts and pants up. She'd learned the military packing style. Bulky sweaters went on top to act as a cushion if you were bringing back souvenirs, or in Col's case, if you were bringing a stash of homegrown herb to share with your mother and best friends. Deep down his wife really was a pirate, even if she didn't realize it. 

"Who taught you how to pack?"

"Chief Petty Officer James Murphy Sr."

Bruce caught a glimpse of a pirate smile ghost across his companion's face. All he could picture for a moment was his wife in a plumed buccaneers hat with a dainty silver dagger between her teeth. Perhaps he'd just given himself a new tattoo idea. 

"He was a Navy man...then he came home became a cop and met my mom."

"All American boy."

"Guess you could say that. My mother was almost a nun until she met him."

"Damn beats Mel and Rita's story. She was a barmaid and he was bootlegger."

"Two sides of the same coin, Miller."

The tidy landing strip was fast approaching as the landing gear came out. Wheels touched down and all was well. Another one down in the flight logs. 

In their combined down time from the bar they did flight and boat charters together under the Trade Wind Tours name for the tourists. They weren't above doing a favor to a friend or two with flying in goods. Colleen was going to be needed if his buddy Whit ever gave up his wings. She had also expressed an interest in doing angel flights for sick and needy children. 

"You'd be surprised. My first time I puked out of a bird just straight up didn't care about anything except not wearing it. Bulls eye on an enemy from above. I can still see his face...I still feel bad about that."

"You were under heavy fire in a military war plane. Vastly different as I'm not open and exposed."

Reaching out to pat his jean clad thigh she sighed. 

"You'd be amazed at people can forgive. I'm sure you were the least of his worries back then. You both just wanted to get home."

He'd forgotten she'd been a nurse and just how deeply her compassion ran. He smirked and patted her back as they pulled upwards 

"If it makes you feel better I get sea sick."

A deep chortle sounded in his head that warmed him. 

"Always keep above deck where you can see the horizon and get fresh air or keep to the middle of the boat."

He heard the snicking flick of her lighter.

"You forget we're still in an airspace?"

"Nope. But I figured out my window. Until they come out with a flameless option I'm sticking with hand rolls. Helps my stomach and in all honesty I think you may need some when we're on solid ground. You're wide eyed and your eyebrows are touching your hairline. I love you, Minnie loves you...my Grandmother loves you, Harvey and Helene are going to adore you too."

Directing towards the hangar Bruce shook his head. 

"The last thing I need to do is meet the town chief of police smelling like your home grown, Col."

Wide innocent eyes met his as she held out the joint with a smile. Her next sentence made his face fall momentarily.

"But he's my god father...and I know the perfect spot."

Nimble tanned hands rolled two more joints as they were directed into the proper hangar by the ground crew, a rather an elderly portly white haired fellow wearing safety orange muffs with 'Willy' stitched into his green coveralls. Waving his sticks he looked almost like a Yankee blue collar ballerina.  A thankful two finger wave and they had some privacy.  

"Thanks Willy!"

Colleen called as she hopped out earning a Roebucker smile her way, Willy's teeth matched his shocking white hair before he hobbled back into the warmth of the hangar office. Col had grabbed her small shoulder bag and her flash light before taking off out of sight. Giving him a bird whistle he saw her crook her finger from inside what looked like a solid tree line. 

"Join me on a side quest brave traveller."

Snow crunched under their feet as he followed Colleen. She evidently knew exactly where they were going to end up. A twisting path lead to a rough stone walking path the lead to a rumbling sound. 

"Watch your step here..."

Her left hand reached out to touch a large pine tree with 'HS + JL' carved into the bark and it made him smile to see her reconnect with a tangible object from her past. The initials were newly carved into the bark, especially the JL. From the look on Col's face HS finally found a love well deserved. 

"Where...what...wow."

Looming overhead was a weather beaten lighthouse sitting at the mouth of the harbor. It's light cutting through the fog that was setting in. Between the two of them they'd planned the timing perfectly.  

"This is Tortoise Harbor light...or Turtle Point. I've mentioned it a few times in my stories of home but well...this used to be our secret spot. Me and Helene Starling. A little birdie told me that there's still heat in it."

Knocking the snow from their boots they ventured into and up to the top of the ancient lighthouse on the point. Outside the winds had picked up and the sound of rain was almost indistinguishable against the sound of the surf hitting the rocky coastline. 

"We used to come up here all the time watching for our Dads when they sailed away or came back in. I guess it was our clubhouse...in some way it still is."

The very top held a battered fold out couch upholstered in a rather interesting shade of pea soup green and outfitted with numerous blankets and throw pillows. A handmade three tier shelf held ancient paperbacks along with a wire spool coffee table with bar ashtray advertising 'the regal taste of Reinhardt beer'. tucked to the left hand side by the railing away from the light. The floor below still held a snug little alcove with a lamp and a few layered feather beds for the nights that were especially tough going home. 

"We used to have a working kitchen and bathroom downstairs but that's been boarded up since we were in our 20's. That's the past though."

Settling herself down onto the couch she sighed before inviting him to sit down as she lit the joint. He'd have wondered what she looked like young and carefree and unscarred but she seemed to bloom before him. Healed and restored. The smell of her homegrown hit him right between the eyes and he smiled as curled in next to him. The storm raging outside as they flew higher together allowing their inner teenagers to bond for the first time.