#the only thing they agree with each other on is on keeping Mike away from El and Will

[lovebugism]

Hiii can i request shy reader whos anxious about different things? I have weird anxiety lol that makes it hard for me to eat in front of people until im comfortable around them. Can i request reader x Steve who have been dating for a while and she tries to avoid eating around him, but she finally gets comfortable and Steve is just so happy, thank you!!

hope you like it angel :D — steve takes care of his anxious gf at a family barbecue (established relationship, hurt/comfort ish, cw for mentions of anxiety and unexplained issues with food | 1.1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The picnic table in Steve’s backyard is hardly big enough for all of you. Even when Max and El agree to lay out on a blanket together some feet away — and when Lucas and Erica spontaneously decide to race each other to the pool — it’s still an achingly tight fit. 

You, in particular, are sandwiched between two bodies much larger than yours. Eddie sits to your right, lacking any real concept of personal space, and Steve is off to your left. The latter keeps a strong arm around your back, hugging you closer to his chest every time the wild-haired boy accidentally knocks into you.

“Okay, me and Nance are getting something to eat,” Robin announces, standing suddenly from the table, visibly overstimulated from the constant conversation. Her eyes flit to your cowering form and then to Steve’s protective one. “You guys have fun with… this.”

It takes all of ten seconds for the others to follow behind them. Dustin and Eddie file through the Harrington family barbecue together, filling their decorative paper plates like they’re at an actual buffet. Mike and Will walk on pale, lanky legs around the yard — stopping once to talk to Max and El, then again by the pool with Lucas and Erica.

You and Steve are the only ones still sitting, but he hugs you to him like you aren’t. 

You can feel the early summer breeze on your skin now, without the crowd of teenagers suffocating you. You can hear the whispering wind, and the gentle humming of his pool, and the sounds of quieter conversation in the distance. You can breathe again. Almost. Still slightly strangled by a distant worry that Steve can read from here.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders cautiously, ‘cause he knows how you are about food. You haven’t let him in on the extent of it yet, but he knows it’s there, so he’s obscenely patient with you accordingly.

You glance once over your shoulder — at the tables of grilled meat and food cooked with love. Your stomach rolls with a distant ache, an empty one. You turn back to Steve and shrink under the weight of his honey-eyed stare. “Um… Kinda,” you confess in a mousy voice, shifting on the wooden bench.

His eyes widen in a soft look of surprise. You usually take a little more coaxing than that. 

“Want me to make you a plate?” he offers, squeezing your shoulder with a gentle hand. His pink lips quirk in a sympathetic smile. “We can take it up to my room if you want— get away from all these freaks.”

Your chest warms at his efforts to accommodate you. The way he loves you makes you brave. 

“That’s okay,” you shrug, trying to be cool even though your voice trembles. “We can... We can stay down here.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. It bubbles up like sunshine until he’s beaming with it. 

It took you months to feel comfortable enough to eat in front of just him. And here you are now, utterly adored and finally brave enough to eat with all the rest of his shithead friends around.

“Yeah?” he hums, still smiling.

“Yeah,” you nod, gaze averted to your hands, which are wringing something fierce in your lap. You force a small laugh. “But it wouldn’t be, like, totally lame if I asked you to come with me, would it?”

Steve scoffs. “Like you even have to. I’m not let you get to the corndogs before me,” he jokes and rises from the creaking bench. “We’ll be lucky if Robin and Henderson don’t eat ‘em all first.”

He gets you laughing so you don’t think twice about meandering across the yard with him — about the eyes that are or are not watching you, or the weird way you are or are not walking. 

And because he keeps you laughing (and largely unthinking), you end up stacking your plate with more food than Steve’s ever seen you eat in public before. He almost mentions it. Almost. But he opts to keep his pride to himself, instead, lest he ruin the moment.

You return to the picnic table with all his friends, noticeably less anxious about being so squished together than before. 

And maybe it’s because Dustin and Eddie can’t eat anything without being sloppy — or maybe it’s because Will’s keeping you distracted with talks of his newest D&D campaign — but you down your food with more ease than Steve’s ever seen from you. Unworried about the crumbs sticking to your fingers and the very corner of your mouth. Completely and utterly comfortable here with him, and with everyone else around you.

The sight makes his heart swell. 

It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

He catches you alone for the first time when you’re tossing empty plates. It’s not exactly the most ideal spot to steal a kiss from you — by the deck, next to the garbage bins — but it’s the first either of you have been out of sight from prying eyes all day. 

So, Steve takes the opportunity and grabs it. Literally. He cradles your wrist in a gentle hand and ushers you closer towards him. Your feet stumble in the tall grass. The tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours, and you flinch. 

“I taste like cheeseburger,” you laugh.

“I don’t care,” Steve shrugs, face screwed, visibly mourning your mouth. “I taste like barbecue. Who gives a shit?”

He ducks down to kiss you again. And this time, you let him. 

He kisses you harder than you anticipated — a long and languid peck that takes your breath away. He tastes faintly of all the food he’d eaten before, something savory and strawberry sweet. It leaves you dizzy when he pulls away, lips smacking softly as they part.

“What was that for?” you wonder breathlessly a moment later.

Steve bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His kissed lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Nothin’. I’m just… I’m just proud of you, I guess.”

He doesn’t elaborate any further. He doesn’t have to. You cower at the notion of being perceived and scrunch your nose in disdain. “For being a normal person?” you joke with a cynical scoff. “For once?”

“No. For doing something that was hard for you,” Steve argues, still smiling. His hands rest warm and wide on the outside of your elbows. His thumbs rub softly along the skin there. “And for lookin’ real cute while you were doing it, too.”

You squint, trying hard not to smile at his smiling. 

“Stop flirting with me,” you grouse.

The boy’s pink lips jut in a playful pout. “But why?” he whines. “That’s, like, my favorite pastime.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

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[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Post-Bad Romance, Cell tries to adjust to life on Quesadilla Island.

For Spiderbit Week Day Four: Murder Husbands

-

The island is a prison. And Cell knows prisons.

There are the wardens: the mysterious blank-faced bear things with guns and clipboards that follow the prisoners around asking questions and watching.

There are the prisoners: the idiots trapped on an island paradise and seemingly unwilling to try and escape.

There are the cells: buildings and statues and neighborhoods that the prisoners were allowed to make themselves that have security cameras watching every entrance and exit that the prisoners don't seem to know-slash-care about.

So. Prison.

"Pai? Why are you staring at Mister Roier like that?"

Prison. With children.

"Don't call me that," Cell snaps. "And he likes it, that's why. Go somewhere else."

The kid- assigned by the faceless overlords- just smiles cheekily in response. He clasps his hands behind his back and rocks onto his heels, head tilting slightly.

"Pais Tazer e Craft said I'm not supposed to talk to you," Richarlyson innocently says. His eyes are hidden behind his curls, but Cell can imagine that they're glittering mischievously.

Now, Cell knows that the kid is an evil genius. Like recognizes like: Cell doesn't remember much from his childhood, but he remembers looking at himself in a puddle of blood one morning after breakfast and seeing a smile that he recognizes now every time that he and Richarlyson see each other.

Richarlyson is a master manipulator. He's not even ten years old, but he can already poke and prod his government-assigned parents into doing what he wants. He hides behind childhood innocence and sweet smiles and sweeter words, but he's also a little asshole.

Of course, Roier adores him.

Of course, Cell doesn't want anything to do with him.

But what he does want is whatever Pac and Mike don't want, so he scowls and shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away.

Content, Richarlyson plops onto the grass and props his chin up in the palms of his hands. He watches Roier just as Cell was doing a moment ago, which is bound to make Roier fucking ecstatic.

Or, well, it would if Roier knew that the two of them were there watching him.

Since arriving on the island a week ago, Roier has managed to find himself an entirely new little family. He squeezed into their relationship like a strangler fig, and Jaiden and Bobby accepted him with open arms.

("Friendship", apparently. That's the thing the prisoners care about the most besides their artificially-created government spawn.

Friendship, and communication.

Idealists. Idiots.)

Roier has moved in with Jaiden and Bobby. He's decided that he's Bobby's father. He's decided that Cell is Bobby's other father, and he got Cell to agree with a knife subtly poking into his side.

Cell, meanwhile, lives in a cave. It reminds him too much of the island- the other island, not this one, but it's also natural, and the wardens don't know where it is. He's searched the area a dozen times over by now: no cameras.

One day, if he and Roier are stuck here long enough, he'll hollow it out by hand. He needs a place to keep his tools. He needs a place to hide his bed so nobody can destroy it.

He needs a place to torture Pac and Mike and teach him what real friendship looks like. Roier will be by his side, and they'll show them.

Cell doesn't miss Roier, though.

At all.

They spent three weeks practically together in the Brazilian countryside, and Roier is annoying, and Cell has had enough of him.

Entirely.

Roier is the only person besides Cell to know where the cave is. And he'll be the only one there when Cell shows Pac and Mike a real partnership. Because he and Roier are partners.

That's it.

(When introducing themselves to the other prisoners, this is how they did it:

Roier: Hola, hola! My name is Roier, I am Mexican, and I am engaged to Cell!

Cell: You can call me Cell, and I'm going to kill every one of you someday.

Roier: [Glares at Cell pointedly.]

Cell: [Sighing] And Roier and I are partners.)

Cell definitely isn't just annoyed that Roier decided to go and live with two strangers and not him.

That would be ridiculous.

Today, Roier is working on the garden with Bobby, and Cell is watching him from a hilltop a fair distance away. Jaiden is asleep. (She'd be asleep forever if Cell had anything to say about it, but that would make Roier upset. So.)

Roier glows in the sunlight. With proper access to a shower and shampoo and skincare, he's positively ethereal. His nails are freshly painted. His eyeliner is meticulous. His hair looks soft.

Richarlyson cocks his head in his hands to look up at Cell.

"Why don't you just... go hang out with him? Aren't you guys getting married?"

Cell's scowl only deepens. "Do you see a ring on either of our hands?"

There aren't any. Roier hasn't gotten any, and Cell sure as hell isn't about to start begging the wardens for silver and gold like the other prisoners would. He has dignity. He'll just dig up the materials himself and make them into rings. Somehow.

He scuffs the toe of his boot against the grass, kicking up some into the air.

"Besides," he says, voice softer despite his attempts to remain objective, "he's busy with his kid."

Roier had mentioned once that he had a child. His asshole (piece of shit bastard motherfucker evil-) ex killed the kid, and Roier killed the ex.

Cell doesn't know how old Roier's kid was when it died, but Roier seems to be doing just fine with ten-year-old Bobby. It's like he was born to be a parent, he's just so kind. He's gentle. He teases Bobby, and he teases the other brats on the island, but he doesn't go out of his way to hurt them.

Roier's smile when he's around kids is entirely different than it is when he's around Cell. His eyes are different, they're... they're just different.

"You're literally also Bobby's dad," Richarlyson dryly responds.

He pauses, and then he asks, "Wait, does that make me Bobby's brother?"

"No," is Cell's immediate response. "You aren't even my son."

"No, I am. Cucurucho says so."

"And I say you're not. You have Felps."

"And Pais Pac and Mike."

A foul taste fills Cell's mouth.

"See?" he says. "You already have plenty of parents. You don't need me."

"Maybe," Richarlyson acknowledges. He smiles, and Cell can't tell if he means it or not. "But I want you. You're cool!"

"I know that," Cell scoffs. "But you shouldn't be hanging around a killer, kid. None of the other kids will want to play with you."

"So what? They don't like me, anyway."

Ducking his head to look at the grass, Richarlyson starts tearing some of it up.

Cell winces. He... doesn't know how to deal with kids. It just isn't what he does. It's what Roier, does, but Roier is busy with his actual family now.

In the garden, Roier laughs. He drops a flower onto Bobby's head and ducks away playfully as Bobby swings his sword at him in retaliation.

(Roier's smile is beautiful. Cell doesn't know what beauty is anymore, but he knows this.)

During the war, BadBoyHalo once told Cell that he was too kind. He wouldn't survive that way, and he almost didn't. He didn't start winning battles until he started being mean, and he's been mean ever since. That's simply how the world works.

Cell rolls his eyes up towards the sky. With a grumble, he settles onto the grass next to Richarlyson.

"You're too young to be depressed," Cell says. "So stop that. If the other brats don't want to talk to you, then don't talk to them. They're assholes. Fuck 'em."

Richarlyson frowns. "But that's mean. I want to be their friend."

"And they don't want to be yours. What are you going to do about it?"

Bobby is chasing Roier around the garden, now. Cell loves watching Roier move, he's so... wow with everything he does: long limbs, muscles. Wow.

Richarlyson doesn't say anything for a moment, so Cell takes the silence as an opportunity to keep watching Roier. He wasn't lying earlier, Roier loves to be watched. He practically begs Cell to do it, and Cell is happy enough to play along.

(Sure, Roier hasn't moved in with him, and he hasn't gotten Cell a ring, and he hasn't really done much with Cell, but he wants to be stalked. Fucking freak.)

(Cell isn't much of a stalker, but he'll do it for Roier. He'd do anything for Roier, and isn't that a novel thought? This is a real partnership, fuck you, Pac and Mike.)

Eventually, Richarlyson lets the grass in his fingers fly into the wind.

"I'll make them be my friends?" he tries, looking to Cell for approval.

Cell shakes his head. "That doesn't work. I've tried, trust me. In prison, you have to force people to be your friends. Those relationships don't last. They'll stab you in the back at the first chance of an escape."

"Uuuuugh, then what?" Richarlyson groans. "They all hate me!"

"How do you know?"

"Uh, because they're all siblings and I'm not related to them? Duh?"

Wow, what a stupid kid. He really is Felps' son.

Sighing, Cell nudges Richarlyson's head with his hand. He maybe ruffles the kid's hair a little, but not purposefully.

"They don't know you, idiot," he explains. "How can you be friends if you're strangers? Have you even tried talking to them?"

"No. Because they hate me."

"They don't trust you. Big difference."

Looking right at Roier, Cell continues: "Trust is the most important part of any relationship. From trust comes honesty, and from honesty comes everything else. You need to prove to the other kids that they can trust you."

Richarlyson leans into Cell's touch, still frowning. "Okay, but how?"

Cell shrugs and yanks his hand away. "Hell if I know."

"You trust Mister Roier."

"He's- he's. Roier." Cell's heart twists fondly in his chest. "I don't even know how he did it."

"Oh," says Richarlyson. He smiles, then. "That's nice. You two really are partners, aren't you?"

Cell scoffs, "Of course we are."

"So that's why he's been staring at you for the past, like, five minutes."

"What?"

Cell blinks a few times, scrunches his eyebrows together.

Indeed, Roier is looking at him now. He's looking right at him, eyes glittering in the sun, smile so wide that his jaw has to be aching.

How did Cell not notice? Was he really so caught up with Richarlyson's kid drama? Ugh, he's getting weak. He needs to kill someone.

Roier waves a hand and shouts, "Gatinho!"

Cell raises his own hand in response. "Guapito."

"Come here! Bring our son with you!"

Richarlyson squirms happily at that.

"See?" he crows. "I am your son."

"Yeah, no," Cell huffs.

He stands, anyway, and he brushes the grass off of his pants.

He doesn't rush down the hill, not like Richarlyson does. He might run a little, and his heart might skip a beat as he gets closer, and his face might be fighting a smile, but he doesn't rush.

At all.

Roier meets him at the bottom of the hill with a hug so tight that Cell's lungs threaten to collapse inside of him.

"I missed you," Roier murmurs. "Don't leave me again."

Cell can't help it. He hugs Roier back just as tightly and grumbles, "Says the one ditching me to play house with some strangers. What do you mean, 'don't leave me again'?"

Roier gasps, and it sounds like he's going to cry for just a second.

But then he starts laughing, hard and loud.

"You're jealous!" he declares.

Cell feels himself flush red.

"No," he says, pushing himself out of Roier's grip and turning around entirely to face away from him. "I'm not."

But Roier just hugs him from behind, chin tucking itself right into the crook of Cell's neck.

"Thank you for watching me," he hums.

Cell grunts. For some reason, he can never speak properly around Roier. It's like his brain just shuts down, it's embarrassing.

He doesn't like being held from behind, though, so he grabs Roier's hands and turns back around. Roier, for whatever reason, twirls in Cell's loose hold like a ballerina.

"Wow," Richarlyson comments from somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

"Ew," Bobby agrees, equally ignorable.

Roier would look so good covered in blood right now, Cell thinks. Red is his color. Cell doesn't have a favorite color, but the closest thing he can think of would be the shade of red Roier's face always is when Cell is killing someone.

Leaning in close, Cell murmurs, "Screw the kids. I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

Roier's eyes light up. "Brazilian?"

Cell ponders. And then he shakes his head. "Not worth the trouble. I'm thinking... Mexican?"

His voice pitches up slightly, questioning.

"Mmm, Quackity, Mariana, or Missa's place?" Roier asks.

For whatever reason, Cell thinks back to a week ago when Quackity and Mariana and Slime had tried stealing Richarlyson away from him... and the others. Missa behaved, he's safe (today.)

Cell's arms find themselves draping over Roier's shoulders loosely. Their heads lean closer together until their foreheads are pressed against each other.

Roier's eyelashes are long and beautiful. He doesn't really use mascara, so it's all natural. He flutters them delicately as Cell thinks.

"Quackity," Cell eventually decides. He smiles crookedly. "Fast food."

Roier's canines aren't as sharp as Cell's are, but he's still borderline vampiric. Wow.

Cell doesn't feel ready to kiss Roier yet- he's still working on speaking around him. But he still considers it as Roier looks up at him through his eyelashes.

One day, he thinks. What did Bad always say, "save it 'til marriage"? Cell can do that. He just needs to figure the rings out first.

"As you wish," Roier breathes.

The kids both groan and wander off to do their own thing elsewhere, but Cell couldn't care less. They aren't his, no matter what Roier says.

And they never will be.

[mustainegf]

Omg! Can you write like VERY EARLY babytallica or Panic era Dave, who you’re friends with. You guys get invited to a party and the other people dare you to play 7 minutes in heaven and he just confesses to you and kisses you!!!!!

BABY DAVEVVVVEEEE OMG

𝟕 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ¹⁹⁸¹

We were 19, and our circle of friends had planned a party at someone's house. The music was terribly loud, and everyone was eating their heads off, laughing and enjoying themselves.

As we worked the room and chatted and drank, one of them suddenly suggested playing 7 Minutes in Heaven. I was enjoying myself, but Dave rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath it was all so childish and immature.

Well, eventually, Dave agreed after much protesting. We all sat down in a circle, and someone whipped out an empty beer bottle. The rules were simple, spin the bottle, and whoever it points to, you have to spend 7 minutes in a closet with that person.

Simple yet exciting.

Well, the first spin came around, and the bottle landed on Rachel and Mike. They snickered and then, laughing, went toward the closet. We laughed and clapped afterward, the game had finally begun.

When it was my turn to spin the bottle, I couldn't but feel a little anxious. What if it lands on me and Dave? What would we do? Will it be awkward?

I blocked the coo glass bottle, letting it spin. It spun around, and my heart started thudding. It felt like time basically stopped while I could only watch the bottle rotate in an endless circle.

It finally slowed, the tip of the bottle pointing directly at the ginger. Dave. We just looked at each other, both slightly surprised but oddly excited.

"Well, I guess we’d better get this over work," Dave said with a laugh, standing up from the couch. I got to my feet, a little nervous, trying to ignore people’s “ooohs”. We walked to the closet as others laughed and shouted.

Entering the closet, Dave closed the door behind us, and it was pitch black. The only sounds were our breathing and, further away but still thumping incessantly, the party music. It was, actually, just a little awkward initially. We stood there fumbling in our minds for the right thing to say or do.

We talked about when we were kids and giggled over some stupid memories from back in the day about each other.

But as I listened to Dave talk, I couldn't help but notice what seemed like gleams in his eyes from within the almost pitch black light of the closet. I found myself drawn to him. My heart seemed to skip a beat at the realization flashing across my head that my feelings for Dave went way beyond friendship. At least I wondered if they did…

So I held my tongue, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would go away.

As the timer clicked closer to the 7 minute mark, Dave's voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. "Hey, can I tell you something kinda stupid?" he asked, his words barely louder over the sound of my own heartbeat.

"Of course," I stammered a whisper, trying to keep from shaking.

Dave took a deep breath, and I could feel the nerves. "I was sorta hoping we’d end up in here together," he admitted, his words sending shivers down my spine. "I really care about you, and I don’t wanna just talk in here."

My heart sort of did a little skip at this revelation. What had I just heard? Dave, my best friend and practically my childhood companion, had feelings for me?

I looked into his eyes, and I knew it, the same way. Neither of us needed another word. It felt like the whole world had paused to give us a moment, it was just him and I as our lips locked in passion, leaning towards each other.

We began kissing, makingout with our hands finding each others faces. We giggled and whispered sweet nothingness to each other in that little black closet, all between sweet kisses and hums.

When the timer went off, marking the end of our 7 minutes, Dave and I reluctantly pulled away from each other. We both stood there, catching our breath, and beamed at each other. “Let’s ditch this place, come home with me,” Dave said quietly.

As we came out of the closet, hand in hand, our friends cheered and clapped for us. I gave him a nod.

“We’re fuckin’ out of here guys, have fun with your little game,” Dave snickered at the others, smiling back down at me.

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Five

One | Two | Three | Four

*slaps top of the fic* this bad boi has everything: mermaids, fluff, reunions, Eddie being a simp, protective mom Steve

Anyway, stick around to the very very end for a meme hot off the presses about this part lmao

as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

----

It takes Robin and the guppies three days to reach the ship Erica mentioned. They're all irritable, and the only thing that keeps them from snapping at each other is the idea that Steve might be hurt or in danger. Robin thinks they might have torn each other apart otherwise, and she can't even say for sure that she would have stopped the guppies from engaging in a full-on brawl.

So, to say she's beyond relieved when they finally catch up to the ship is an understatement.

But now they need to plan. The ship is way too close to a port city; close enough that any of the pirates could survive long enough to swim that way and spread the story of a murderous pod. Which, honestly, wouldn't do much for keeping all mermaids safe and on good enough terms with humanity that regular humans don't hunt them for sport. It does nothing to stop the pirates, but still.

"We could just make sure to drown everyone," Max suggests, watching the bottom of the ship with narrowed eyes.

Robin almost agrees, but then she stops. Because she knows Steve. If even one person on that ship wasn't an asshole to him, he'd say to spare them, and that could result in the aforementioned spreading of murderous pod stories. But after he's been trapped for so long, Robin wouldn't be able to argue with any request. She's already imagined him dead and strung up like a trophy more than she'd like to admit. She couldn't stand to see him frown after that.

So, she shakes her head, a frustrated bubble pattern flaring from her gills. "We need to be smarter about this," she says.

"We didn't strategize before sinking the other one," Will points out.

"That one kidnapped him. This one might have rescued him, and we should show mercy if that is the case," El says, stretched out and floating on her back. She's the most relaxed of them, and Robin wonders if it's because of that sixth sense she's got going.

"El is right," Robin says, crossing her arms and studying the ship. "We should be more careful about this."

"We could try signaling him," Dustin suggests. "Like, uh, dolphin noises or something."

"If we do that," Lucas says, "we'll need to give him enough time to respond without anyone around."

Robin nods, agreeing with both of them. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I'll swim closer while you guys stay here. We have that dumb screech system Steve made us memorize, so I'll use that to signal him. Then we'll wait until the sun rises tomorrow. That should be enough time for him to respond. If he doesn't, we'll sink the ship," she says.

"What if he's not on it?" Mike asks.

"We'll keep one human alive for questioning," Will says, looking at Robin and flashing a tiny, relieved smile when she nods in agreement. "We'll probably have to drown them either way, though."

"Well, we don't need to tell them that," Erica says, snorting as she reaches out to pet a fish that swims by. It's tiny enough to weave through her fingers twice before swimming on.

"Yeah, definitely won't be telling them," Robin agrees, trying and mostly failing to hold back an amused smile. "Okay, stay here. I'll be back after a few minutes. While I'm gone, Erica is in charge."

A chorus of protests chases after Robin as she swims away, heading toward the surface. The sun shines brighter the closer she gets, and she winces when her head finally breaks through the water. It reflects off the ocean, sparkling and blinding as the water shifts and flows.

Robin huffs and sinks down until only her eyes are above the water. The ship is a few yards away, and she can't see anyone moving around on the deck from this distance. She slowly moves closer, her ear fins straining as she tries to listen for any sign of life. Or Steve. Actually, she'd love to hear any sign of Steve from the ship.

Unfortunately, she doesn't.

Once she's close enough to touch the ship, hiding in the shadow it casts over the water, she circles it once. There are a few windows along the hull, but none of them are actually open. That could make it harder for Steve to hear her, but Robin will just be extra loud to compensate.

Robin clears her throat, rolls her shoulders, flicks her tail, and rises until her chin is above the water. She then lets out a sound that can only be classified as the dying shrieks of a dolphin and seagull's abomination of a love child. She makes this noise twice, but each one lasts a few seconds.

Robin can't risk any of the humans seeing her when they investigate the noise. If they are holding Steve captive, they might hurt him even more if they know another mermaid is around. So, she dips below the water, completely submerging and waiting anxiously for a response.

----

Steve has discovered the wonders of just sprawling on a solid surface, his arms thrown to the side and his tail stretched out as he stares up at the ceiling. It's oddly calming, and Steve can almost trick himself into thinking the bobbing of the ship is the ocean itself.

That's what Steve is doing now, forcing himself to relax and brace himself for telling Eddie that he has to leave for a while to find Robin and the guppies. His eyes are closed, and he's running through every possible outcome of that conversation. The second best case scenario (Eddie decides to come with him in a tiny boat) is playing out when he hears it.

The Emergency Shriek.

The last time he'd heard it, Dustin was desperately crying out for help as he struggled against the net that dragged him to the surface. Steve's reaction then had been the exact same as his reaction now. He jolts, his eyes wide and all of his fins flaring in preparation for the fastest swimming of his life, and his lips are pulled back in a vicious snarl to display his fangs and scare off the threat.

But he's on a boat, in the captain's cabin, and that window is way too small for him to climb through. Steve doesn't really think (he can't, actually; his brain has officially gone into Guppies and Robin In Danger Mode). He drags himself to the door of the cabin, digs his fingers into the space beneath, and uses all his strength to rip it off.

The wood groans and the hinges shriek and then the bottom half of the door comes off in his hands. Steve tosses it to the side and crawls through, his tail twitching and flopping in a vain attempt to move faster. If anyone were to actually witness this, they'd probably find it somewhere between utterly terrifying and unfortunately hilarious. A giant fish is dragging and flopping along the floor, but it's also exuding the most intense aura of bloodlust most creatures have ever encountered.

And that bloodlust only gets worse when Steve comes to the stairs that lead to the deck. He stares at them, anger building in his chest at the obstacle they present and just how long it will take to climb them. By the time he reaches the top, Robin and the guppies could be dead, and Steve will have wasted time by uselessly trying to climb some stupid stairs.

He grits his teeth, claws digging into the wood beneath him. And then Steve suddenly realizes that he doesn't have to climb the stairs himself. He takes a deep breath, his gills flaring some to pull in more air, and screams as loud as he can, "EDDIE!"

Steve is absolutely going to reward Eddie for his speed (later, after his guppies and Robin are safe) because he immediately hears something crash above him, followed by swearing and frantic footsteps that stop at the stairs. "Stevie, what the fuck?" Eddie asks, panting as he hurries down the stairs.

"On the deck," Steve says, pushing up onto his tail and wrapping his arms around Eddie's neck when he starts leaning down. "Right now, Eddie. Actually, two minutes ago. As fast as you can. And to the edge of the ship. The railing. Now!"

Eddie, his wonderful and incredible Eddie, doesn't question him. He just scoops Steve up and carries him back up the stairs, fingers digging into Steve's waist when he nearly trips over the final step. He finds his balance again, barely, and strides over to the railing.

Steve can't see anything wrong with the water, but he knows the surface doesn't actually tell him anything useful. He frowns and looks at Eddie. "I'll be back," he promises before letting go of Eddie's neck and twisting to place his hands on the rail.

In one swift motion, he launches himself over the side, grimacing when he feels the edge of his tail fin smack Eddie's cheek along the way. But Steve doesn't let himself linger and focuses on the rush of water around him as he dives below the surface. His gills flare and he breathes for the first time in a while, his hair and body familiarly weightless, and Steve fully realizes how much he fucking missed being in the ocean.

But he can't linger on that relief and joy either.

Steve shoots through the water, swimming to wear he thinks the Emergency Shriek came from, only to be tackled as he rounds the edge of the ship. He yelps, his breath knocked out of him as he goes careening, arms wrapping around his waist like he's going to disappear. It takes exactly one second for him to recognize Robin, her hair floating in front of his eyes and her claws digging into his back.

"You're okay!" she shouts as their momentum starts to falter.

Steve wraps his arms around her and holds her close, one hand on the back of her head and the other around her waist. "Where's the danger?" he asks, scanning the water around them and frowning when he sees nothing.

Robin laughs and pulls away, grinning at him with relief clear in her eyes. "There isn't any, dingus. I was trying to see if you were on that ship," she explains.

Before she can say anything else or Steve can respond, several bodies crash into him from behind. "STEVE!"

They all go careening through the water again, and Steve can't help laughing this time. He tries to hug as many of the guppies as he can, running his fingers through their hair and over their shoulders to reassure himself and them that they're together again. They don't let up, though, and Steve is getting pulled deeper and deeper as they pile on top of him, each trying to get closer as Robin wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face in his nape.

"Okay, okay!" Steve says, a stupidly happy grin on his face, "I'm fine, I promise. I'm not hurt."

"But you were!" Will shouts, managing to push forward long enough for Steve to see the red in his eyes from crying. "We saw your scales in the other ship."

"I healed," Steve promises, gesturing at his tail. This gets the guppies to back off long enough to inspect his tail, all seven of them circling around and inspecting for new injuries.

"What's this?" Erica asks, pointing at the new scar.

"That's the wound that healed."

"I'm so glad you're okay," El says, finishing her inspection first and grabbing Steve's hand.

"Yeah, now we can wreck that ship!" Max says, her eyes lighting up with a vicious glee as she looks at the Corroded Coffin in the distance.

Steve blinks. "Wait, what?"

"This has been healed for a while, Steve," Max explains, gesturing to his tail, "So, they must have been keeping you captive, right? Let's sink them."

"I bet they've got some great treasure on there," Dustin says, lingering closer to Steve's shoulder even as he looks at the ship, studying it with the same face he studies squids he wants to try trapping.

And, yeah, Dustin would be right. There is some great treasure in the Corroded Coffin. Steve's treasure. Eddie. "We are not sinking the ship," he says, his voice firm. It's his official Caretaker Voice, and it makes all the guppies stiffen slightly as they look at him. "The...humans there saved me."

A few seconds pass, and then Robin behind him gasps. "You fell in love!" she shouts, using Steve's shoulders to brace herself as she pushes up and leans over his head. "With a human!"

"Wh-how could you tell?!" Steve asks, looking up at her as the guppies start clamoring for his attention as well.

"Was it the captain?" Will asks, eyes a little brighter but also warier.

"Is he ugly?" Mike asks, his tone implying that he already believes the answer to be yes.

"Dude, how could you fall for a human?!" Dustin shouts, his nose wrinkled up in slight disgust.

"Have you been courting a human the whole time we've been looking for you?" Erica asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah! How long have you been healed, then?" Max adds, moving next to Erica and glaring at Steve.

"Wait, so we're not sinking the ship?" Lucas asks, failing to cover his disappointment as he gazes at the ship longingly.

"Congratulations, Steve. I'm sure he's very nice," El says, smiling at him, and Steve almost cries at her simple and accepting response.

"I want to meet him," Robin says.

And her words get the rest of the guppies to quiet down. They all share a few looks and then nod at Steve in sync. "Yeah, we need to meet him," Dustin says, apparently the spokesperson for the group.

Steve blinks, looking at the guppies and Robin. He wanted Eddie to meet his guppies and Robin, of course, but he's a little worried about what they'll do to Eddie. "Only if you promise not to drown him," he says, shooting each of them a hard look.

"I'm insulted you think we would," Robin says, scoffing as she swims to the guppies, facing Steve. "Now, go get your soft and very drownable human down here."

Steve rolls his eyes and motions for the guppies and Robin to follow as he swims toward the surface. He doesn't plan to let them out of his sight, and he knows the feeling is mutual.

----

Exactly twenty minutes and 13 seconds have passed since Steve threw himself over the rail of the ship, and Eddie hasn't moved. He knows his crew is a little concerned, especially when they notice the red cut across his cheek, but he waves them off when they try to pull him away from the railing to focus on something else.

He just can't risk Steve surfacing and not seeing him.

And his paranoia feels validated when Steve does surface and immediately smiles brightly at him, looking somewhere between relieved and ecstatic. "Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving like he doesn't always have Eddie's undivided attention, "Jump in!"

Here's the thing. When a gorgeous merman that Eddie has spent a bunch of time courting (and then kissing) tells him to jump into the ocean, Eddie is going to jump into the fucking ocean. "Just a second," he shouts back.

He kicks off his shoes, waves off Asher and Jeff when they try to convince him to not jump off the ship, and then launches himself over the railing. For a brief moment, Eddie feels weightless, and then he hits the water. His legs sting a little where they broke the surface, the cut on his cheek practically screams in protest, and a cascade of bubbles block his vision just as much as the salt that stings his eyes and makes everything blurry.

The blurriness does nothing to keep him from recognizing Steve when he swims closer, though. Steve is still grinning at him, and Eddie's grin in return falters slightly when he tries to kick to the surface and Steve stops him. Before Eddie can try to signal that he cannot, in fact, breathe underwater, Steve kisses him.

As they kiss, Steve's tongue pushes against Eddie's lips, carefully prying them open. Eddie leans closer to Steve, figuring he doesn't mind dying like this, and falters when he feels a bubble of air roll down his tongue and lodge in his throat. Steve pulls away, and Eddie inhales on reflex. The bubble in his throat gets a tiny bit smaller, and Eddie doesn't get any water in his lungs.

"Tug my arm when the bubble gets too small. You won't be able to talk underwater, but you won't drown." And then he notices the cut on Eddie's face. His smile drops some, and he leans forward, gently tracing his finger along the wound. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Steve says, his voice echoing and surrounding Eddie in the water.

Eddie shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively. It's at this point that he notices some blurry shapes a distance away, but he doesn't pay them too much mind. He focuses back on Steve and takes his hand, squeezing reassuringly before kissing his palm.

"It doesn't hurt, right?" Steve asks, his voice a little softer and slightly muffled but still one of the most beautiful things Eddie has ever heard.

Eddie shakes his head again and wraps his free hand around Steve's waist, pulling him closer. This is much easier to do in the water. He kisses Steve again, tasting salt more than anything else, and Steve takes the chance to replenish the air bubble despite its minimal use so far.

When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed. "Promise you'll let me know if you need more air?" he asks, his tone insistent and firm. Steve waits for Eddie to nod before grinning. "Great, because my guppies and Robin want to meet you. And, uh, they're really disappointed about not getting to sink your ship, but don't hold that against them."

Eddie blinks, suddenly wondering if maybe he shouldn't have jumped into the ocean at Steve's beck and call. But then he notices the way Steve moves so naturally in the water, how his hair floats and moves around him, how bubbles rise from his gills as he speaks, and Eddie knows he'd jump without thought all over again.

So, yeah, he guesses it's time to meet some guppies and Robin.

----

Tag List (the tag list is full! I wasn't able to fit everyone, so if you aren't on here, I'd suggest following #high seas steddie. I think you should still get updates on your dash if you do)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg, @littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow

@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle, @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona, @sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed, @xtkxkrzrizir, @potato-of-the-lord, @geekymagicalpotato, @child-of-cthulhu, @aizawa-emma, @m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie

And, if you've made it this far, here's a little meme for your entertainment

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 19 - Admire

Douglas Couldn't Help It!

Douglas smiled softly as he watched the station. It had been only a couple of years since his dramatic escape from British Rail and arrival on Sodor, but Oliver was already fitting in like a natural. The Great Western engine was an absolute social butterfly, able to charm the big engines with ease even as he made Duck laugh with all his in-jokes that only the two truly understood. He was admittedly still a little wary of the diesels - especially Bear and Daisy whose classes had worked around where Oliver had lived and replaced him and his siblings - but even then he was growing more confident around them with each passing day. 

“It’s nice being on Sodor,” Oliver had confided in Douglas. “Diesel and steam engines can live in harmony here without fear of one replacing the other.” Douglas couldn’t agree more, he himself feeling more at peace with the diesels on Sodor with each passing year. But the way Oliver seemed so relaxed and confident in himself, it made Douglas feel all sorts of things. Douglas couldn't help it! Oliver was so suave and witty and brave - how could he not admire him? 

As if on cue, a cheerful whistle blasted in the distance, and Oliver steamed in. Douglas puffed over, a broad smile already growing on his lips. “Hullo Oliver, how was yer run?” “Oh, hi Douglas,” grinned Oliver. Douglas felt like his fire was about to melt right through his firebars and fall all over the line. “The run was good - I don’t think I’ll ever get over how beautiful this line is!” “Aye, it is a fabulous little line, though I’m sure yer old line was also nice.” “Oh it was!” Oliver began, “but… then the diesels began to arrive, and we didn’t get to use the line as much. And that was after they replaced most of the Autocoaches with their Mark 1s… nasty, heavy things!” Douglas just hummed, a little dopily. Oliver chuckled, shooting Douglas a megawatt smile that went straight to the poor Scot’s boiler.

“I’ve got to go, and I think you do too,” grinned Oliver, already beginning back down the line with his train. Douglas blinked, and looked back. His guard was tapping his foot impatiently, and when he spotted Douglas finally paying him some attention, gestured to the trucks. Douglas went red with embarrassment and hurried to get back to work.

As he back down onto his trucks, Douglas looked over and spotted Mike sitting on the Arlesdale Railway’s tracks next to him. Mike was shooting Douglas the most disgusted look an engine could, his face scrunched up comically. “What?” “You’re besotted,” sneered Mike. “It’s pathetic to watch – just talk to him like a normal engine, ask him out if you have to! But stop gazing after him like he’s some damsel in a Hollywood film!” Douglas just sighed. “Ye'll understand ane day.” “No I won’t! Who would I even look at like that? Frank?! You’ve lost it, Douglas!” Douglas ignored the little pillarbox of an engine and steamed away.

Douglas worked hard all day, trying his best to find another time when his schedule matched up with Oliver’s so they could chat – only much to his dismay, it just didn’t happen. Poor Douglas was never in the right spot, and all he could do was watch as the cute Autotank vanished out of view with his passengers.

“Ah canae tak it anymore! Hou is it thon A keep missin Oliver by mere seconds?!” burst out Douglas to his twin that night. Donald snorted. “Ye're juist unlucky. Iver considerit playin cards - ye'd have more luck thare than i love!” Douglas rolled his eyes at his twin and went unhappily to sleep.

An entire week went by in this manner, with Douglas managing one or two short conversations each day where Oliver would leave him absolutely flustered and whining to his twin about the Western engine he had rescued. Donald indulged his twin with a wry grin, remembering similar conversations he’d had to listen to back in Scotland and back at Tidmouth.

Finally, Douglas managed to strike good fortune. On Saturday, he finished up his duties near Tidmouth, and convinced his driver to let him sleep there the night, so he could try strike up a conversation with Oliver again. But as he neared the shed, he heard voices – it was Oliver! And… Gordon?

“I mean, he’s just so strong,” sighed Oliver wistfully. “I suppose, though I don’t see the appeal personally,” came the reply. Douglas felt his boiler pressure drop. Who was Oliver talking about?

“I mean, have you seen him?” went on Oliver. “Especially at night! Watching him go by is a true sight.” Gordon snorted. “You talk like he’s me! Please, just because we—” Douglas reversed back down the line as fast as his wheels could carry him. Oliver liked another engine. Oh.

Oh no.

And Douglas knew who it was too – a strong engine who ran at night and Gordon could relate to? It had to be Henry! Gordon and Henry had shared a shape, and Henry hauled the Flying Kipper. It made so much sense, didn’t it? Of course Oliver would want someone like Henry, who was strong and caring and determined! And the two shared a shed too, so of course they had gotten to know each other well; and to think Douglas thought he had a chance.

Douglas managed to get James to agree to trade his late evening coal train – which was not that difficult, all things considered – and got as far away from Tidmouth as quickly as possible. He delivered the coal, then slept unhappily at Vicarstown.

Douglas didn’t say much for the next few days. He did his work, sighing quietly but still treasuring every smile Oliver sent his way. The Fat Controller had listened to his rather sudden request to help out on Edward’s branchline and agreed – for a few days at least, but all too soon Douglas was back on the Little Western.

Donald had noticed Douglas’ change of mood almost instantly, but waited a few days before confronting his twin.

“Richt, ye've been mopin aw week. Whit's wrong wi ye?” snapped Donald at the sheds. Douglas jumped, and looked at Donald for all of three seconds before gazing down at his buffers, a defeated look gracing the Caledonian’s features. “Oliver likes a different engine. A dinnae want tae get i the way thouch - A'm no some insane jealous idiot wha refuses tae see him happy without me thouch – e'en gin it's wi Henry. A'll juist admire him from afar an wait for these feelings tae gae away.”

Donald stared at his twin for a long, silent minute. He didn’t know what to say – Douglas believed, of all things, that Oliver liked a different engine. “Are ye sure?” he asked delicately. Douglas sniffled a little. “Ay, A overheard him at the sheds. He wis talkin tae Gordon aboot his crush. A'll be ok, juist... give me some time, aw richt?”

Donald agreed, and watched as his twin fell asleep. Then, he groaned aloud. “These twa idiots,” he grumbled. “A'm gaun'ae have tae talk tae Duck aboot this.”

Duck agreed with Donald. “Oliver’s been moping about Tidmouth too,” he huffed. “These two are as dumb as each other, I swear. We need to do something about it.” “Douggie wonae dae anythin - he's committit tae "just admirin him from afar" like some sort o chivalrous knicht.” “So it’ll have to be Oliver,” Duck realised. Donald agreed grimly.

These two would definitely need a push in the right direction – and thankfully, Duck knew exactly what to say…

“You’re an idiot and now Douglas thinks you like Henry.”

…Or maybe not.

“He thinks what? How?!” “He overheard you talking to Gordon about him and somehow misunderstood everything. The only reason I know is cause he told Donald, and I put ten and eleven together and figured out how dim-witted the pair of you are. Go ask that dumb Scot out already or I will dump you with Thomas.” “I get along fine with Thomas,” huffed Oliver. “He’s having another spat with Percy,” Duck replied with a groan. Oliver shuddered. The two still remembered the screaming match the pair had had in the middle of the Big Harbour a month back – it had been so bad that Gordon had to drag Thomas away while Henry held Percy back from chasing after the blue tank engine.

“Those two fight like cats and dogs,” sighed Oliver. “inconsistently and whenever it suits their fancy.” Duck couldn’t help but laugh, before pausing. “Don’t try and distract me – go ask Douglas out!” Oliver groaned, and puffed away to go do just that.

He found the Caledonian dozing in his shed up at Arlesburgh. Thinking quickly, Oliver convinced the signalman to let him roll onto the same line as Douglas, puffing right up to the Caledonian’s bufferbeam. Douglas opened a sleepy eye – and then bolted right awake.

“Oliver?!” “Hi Douglas. You know, I heard a very interesting thing today.” Douglas gulped, feeling his fire go cold. “O-oh?” Oliver grinned at the nervous engine, and smiled cheekily. “Oh yes – a birdie told me that you liked someone. And imagine my delight when I found out who.” Douglas listened intently – and then it sunk in. “Delichted? Are ye…”

Oliver smiled at the Caledonian, and rolled forwards until he buffered up to him.

“You’re an idiot, you know that? I like you, not some other engine. Strong, runs at night, saved me, blue like Gordon? It’s you.” Douglas just blinked dumbly, then groaned. “O course Gordon wad compare our paint juist sae he coud talk aboot himself!” “Of course,” agreed Oliver. “But I’d rather not hear you talk about other engines when we’re talking about us.”

Needless to say, Douglas was flushed bright red for the rest of the day and Oliver scored himself a Caledonian boyfriend.

Back to the Master Post

[ftwdb]

Don’t say go.

Chapter 18.

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love Triangle!

It’s dark by the time you feel the strength of The Pull reaching its peak, and you know what that means. You look around into the darkness. In the wastes there isn’t much besides stretches of empty barren land and mountains in the distance. You know you’re not yet at your destination which can only mean one thing; the boy with the flag was headed toward you too.

You see twin lights in the distance. A car headed toward you. Eventually you stop in the middle of the road and just wait. The lights get closer until they shine on your windscreen and you both sit, unmoving, just waiting for the other to make the first move.

You cut the truck’s engine and step out.

The boy does the same. The light of your vehicles illuminate the night just enough that you can make each other out in the darkness.

The boy steps forward enough so that he is thrown into view and you can see the warm brown of his eyes, his features which are so different from Troy’s, softer but still strong.

You hesitate. Your gun is tucked in the back of your jeans and your fingers twitch.

The boy speaks.

“Hi… I’m Nick.”

You don’t say anything, you just keep watching until he clears his throat as if a little unsure of himself.

“You came alone?” he asks.

You could have kicked yourself. Coming alone had been a risk but now that he was here, in the middle of nowhere, and no one knew where you’d gone, you realised how vulnerable you’d left yourself.

“For now,” you answered him flatly. At least if you were vague about whether you had people with you it might make him have second thoughts if he was planning anything…

The boy waits a beat before trying again.

“I guess you felt it too then…”

You don’t want to say the words out loud so you simply nod your head. The boy, Nick, continues.

“I thought I was going crazy at first. I never thought I’d find my… find you. Feel it, you know?”

You frown at this. Everyone worries they’ll never find their soulmate but something in his voice captures your attention. It’s less that he’s worried about the odds and more… something you can’t quite distinguish.

“Why?” you ask.

Nick hesitated before shrugging a little.

“That’s a… it doesn’t matter. What matters now is that I found you. It feels… weird. Don’t you think?”

Perhaps if you hadn’t already had the experience with Troy you would agree. But you didn’t want him to know that Troy was your soulmate and so you don’t answer his question.

“Look I came here to warn you. Some of the people from my community are coming back tonight to finish what they started. You need to tell your people to run.”

Nick frowns at this information.

“We agreed to a truce-“

You shake your head in annoyance. You don’t want to explain all this. You want him to just listen to your warning and leave so you can forget about whatever this mistake is between you both and go home, go back to Troy.

“They’re acting of their own accord. Some of the men have certain… loyalties. This isn’t about protecting their home, it’s about revenge.”

Nick is watching you closely now and you don’t like the way his eyes are roaming over you. You freeze. You wonder if he can feel your emotions just like you can with Troy. You reach out in the same way you do with Troy and try to find Nick, to feel what he feels… there’s nothing. Just the regular sense of The Pull.

“You’re warning me because of this feeling between us? You came looking for me because of it.”

You shake your head growing more frustrated as all you want to do is head back before Mike and the others see you out here.

“I don’t have time to explain myself. You have to get your people and go far away from here. Don’t come back.”

Nick’s eyes widen as he realises you have no intention of staying with him.

“But… you have to come with me. When I left earlier, after I saw you, it felt like my heart was being-“

“It doesn’t matter.” You say quickly, all too familiar with that pain. “I can’t come. I won’t go with you. But I don’t want you to die either so, please, leave.”

Nick is staring at you incredulously.

“I can’t do that.”

You actually growl from your frustration with him.

“Why!?”

“Because,” Nick says as he steps closer. You take a large step away from him. You can’t risk him getting too close, having him touch you. You don’t know what will happen.

“I just found you. I can’t walk away!” he continues.

“Then run! Drive! Fucking skip for all I care! If you stay, you die. Not that I care-“

“That’s a lie.” Nick cuts you off quickly. “Soulmates need each other. Hearts literally break when they lose one another. So why… why are you denying this?”

You swallow nervously and look at the truck. You could just get back in and drive away, but what if he follows? You have a feeling he would. He seems the type. Reckless and stubborn.

“I… it’s complicated.”

You say, and you hate how pathetic that sounds.

“‘It’s Complicated’ used to be a Facebook status.” Nick quips. “Tell me the truth. Why run from me?”

“I’m not!”

“Then what are you running from!? Or… wait… what are you going back to?”

You clench your jaw as Nick slowly starts to put the pieces together in his head.

“You have someone-“

“No.”

“A boyfriend? Fiancé?”

“No! No one!”

“Your home then, your community. You’re worried this would cause a problem. Conflict? But maybe it could help solve the bad blood between us! Two soulmates who find each other on opposites sides-“

“This isn’t bloody Romeo and Juliet, Nick!”

He grins and it makes you want to slap the beautiful smile off his face.

“You’re hardly Juliet sweetheart.”

You snarl, your anger beginning to erupt. Why won’t he just listen! Why make this so complicated!

“Whatever! Just get in your car and drive away Romeo!”

Nick laughs and it’s almost like he’s enjoying this.

“Oh the universe is truly a bitch. I didn’t think I’d find my soulmate because I didn’t deserve one. But maybe I do. It’s ironic that she would hate me, a poetic kind of punishment I guess…”

Your expression eases but doesn’t soften as you listen to him ramble. Hate? You didn’t hate him…

“Why would you be punished?” you ask, your senses on alert in case this was the part where he confesses to being a serial killer or something.

Nick shrugs again.

“If you got to know me, you’d understand.”

You shake your head again with a weary sigh.

“You don’t listen do you.”

Nick steps forward again and this time the light moves so he’s back in the shadows with you.

“I could… but you’d need to actually tell me something for me to hear it. Something besides “run away” because that isn’t happening.”

You swear at him and he smirks.

“We don’t have time. Your people will be killed.”

Nick rubs his hand over the back of his neck and it finally seems to dawn on him, he has other responsibilities. Other people to protect.

“When are your people attacking?”

“They’re leaving the ranch around midnight, so probably by the early hours of the morning. Before sunrise though.”

“Element of surprise, cover of darkness. They’re smart.”

“And well armed. So will you listen to me now?”

Nick stares at you for a few seconds and you almost believe he’d let his people risk being slaughtered instead of going back to warn them.

“Fine.”

You blink at him.

“Fine?”

“That’s what I said. I’ll go back. I’ll warn them.”

“And you’ll run? You can’t fight back, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Look I can’t promise anything… we have some stubborn members of our group and they might not take the truce being broken well-“

“The truce isn’t broken. It’s just a small group-“

“Still breaking the truce. Still disobeying your leader, right?”

You bite your tongue. Jeremiah wasn’t their “leader” officially but he was as good as.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. So what? You’ll go back and they’ll try to defend themselves?”

Nick shrugs again.

“If they think it’s more beneficial than running.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m getting a damn headache.”

For some reason this amuses Nick.

“Head rub?”

Your look at him is deadly and he sniggers.

“Joking. Lighten up. Look, I’ll go back and do what I can to stop anymore death. But I can’t promise anything. We lost people. The guy who was in charge came at us like a demon. We didn’t stand a chance…”

Your stomach twists as Nick talks about Troy.

“You want revenge?”

Nick’s expression blanks out and you recognise the perfectly controlled mask on his face. You’d used it yourself before.

“Me? No. But there are those who do.”

“Then convince them their lives aren’t worth it. Tonight is not their night to die. Please… no more death.”

Your voice breaks as you finish your sentence and Nick tilts his head at you. You look away, hating that you’d let some vulnerability slip through.

“Who’d you lose?”

You take a slow breath and shake your head.

“Doesn’t matter. Just… do what you can. And if you can’t save them… save yourself at least.”

Nick looks like he wants to say more. He looks pained.

“Can I… see you again?”

It’s almost laughable. Like a schoolboy asking out his crush. You place your hand on the door of the truck and grip it tight as you give him a firm “no” and turn away before you can see the look on his face.

You slide into your truck and slam the door, locking it before turning in the engine. This was for the best. You didn’t know what else to do. There had been some mistake and maybe Nick had another soulmate out there somewhere too? You hoped so… you didn’t want him to be in pain.

You hear a tap at the window and you look over to see Nick still standing there, motioning for you to wind it down. You do, only a few inches so you can hear him speak.

Nick pauses as he looks you over before speaking.

“It’s him, isn’t it.”

You frown and Nick elaborates.

“The guy who attacked us. The one who was hurt. He’s why you won’t stay with me.”

You feel your stomach drop. Your hands clench on the wheel as you grit your teeth.

“His name is Troy.”

“Troy…” Nick repeats and you hear the sadness and disappointment in his voice. “Well, you must love him a lot to choose him over your soulmate.”

You avoid his eyes still and stare straight ahead until the light from his car burns your eyes.

Nick continues.

“… I hope he makes it, for your sake. And… I want you to know it wasn’t me. I didn’t hurt him.”

You nod, not that it would have mattered. As much as you loved Troy you could understand he’d made a choice that led to his own injuries. Even if he’d done it to protect you… you hated that the blood that had been spilt was on your hands too now.

“I have to go,” you say emptily and put the truck into reverse.

Nick steps back just in time to save his foot being run over as you reverse and turn, glancing back to see his shadow in the headlights as you drive back home. Back to Troy. Back to where your heart felt complete as you tried to ignore how it felt as if you’d just left a piece of it in the darkness behind you…

[warping-realities]

Dalton Academy - Hedonistic Behavior

That had been a strange day for Jaime.

Things looked messed up. He knew he still hadn't made friends at school but at the same time there was that feeling that it shouldn't be like this, that something was wrong. He passed a few people in the hall that he could have sworn he knew better, Jonathan Roberts, Edward Chang... and seeing the two of them arguing in the cafeteria gave him a feeling of deep sadness that only increased when he saw the boy of Chinese origin sit at the table with Chadwick Hartfield and Michael Jones.

Michael Jones, here's another name that constantly came to his mind throughout the day, because every time he thought of that name, the figure of a thin black boy came to his mind.

Michael Jones was obviously black, but he was also huge and this contrasted terribly with Jaime's memory. And then there was the fact that he'd called for a Michael in his sleep if he could take Jacob’s word for it...

Damn Jacob and his inability to keep his mouth shut. Now the whole school was talking about his nightmare and some nasty coments greatly increased what happened, making that day even worse.

Stranger than everything is that when he looked in the mirror in the morning he could have sworn he had lost some weight. Nothing too big, but enough to make the uniform baggy in some places . He'd explained it away as a result of stress, but with an uneasy feeling.

Worst of all, he found himself answering things in class that he was sure he wasn't supposed to know, about economics and politics, and then found himself almost agreeing with a statement Chadwick made.

And when this one along with Michael and Edward performed that idiotic burping demonstration at lunchtime he found himself laughing along.

As the afternoon progressed, it got worse, he found himself invaded by a mixture of tiredness and random flashes of alternating anger and satisfaction, totally out of his control. What was making him question his own sanity. Until finally the most violent wave of tiredness he had felt until then forced him to sit in his bed, untill he fall asleep.

....

He was again in the clearing in front of the cave. This time with no sign of the pups or the wolf, the wind was also calm, bringing with it the scent of sugar and cinnamon that he associated with his grandmother. But she didn't show up. Without any control on his part his legs kicked into motion, carrying him towards the gigantic, dark mouth of the cave. A feeling of dread inside him increased with each step, until the voice he associated with the scent whispered in his ear:

"...la fuerza de este lugar aumenta cada día mientras la tuya disminuye, hijo, sal de allí...

He crossed the threshold of the cave and found himself in the entrance hall of Dalton's central building, his feet carried him through corridors and staircases until he reached a huge door that opened as he approached, putting him in a room richly furnished. He continued walking until he reached a shelf, full of trophies, photos and clippings from newspapers and magazines, some dating back almost a century, all with reports on important and successful men. Right in the middle was a gilded plaque with a engraved phrase: "The Dalton's Crows, may their deeds endure through the ages." How pretentious... but it was then that he got a big fright.

"...no, Mike is doing the job. I know I should be there. Don't worry I'll be there for the finale, but I needed to talk to you.

Yes, I trust him completely, it's like you said it would be. Although you didn't warn me that the bond would affect me in other ways... I exhibited some unusual behavior today that concerned me and it could only have come from one of them.

Yes, I've seen your relationship with them all my life , I just thought it came about over time and not from some kind of magical bond. I understand. But even the minimum possible of them leaking into me is much more than I would like. After all, the reasons for they being chosen...

Standing by a window, looking towards the Dalton sports complex and talking on a cell phone was Chadwick Hartfield, dressed in gym clothes and fully engaged in conversation with the person on the phone.

"...the other reason for my contact. What kind of reactions can we expect in the Source?

I see. But from what Carmichael says he’s the most powerful in a long time, enough to guarantee our plans and Dalton’s stability for a long time, but if he's that strong...

I know he's untrained and vulnerable, but still...

Okay father, I just want to make sure everything goes according to plan, after all I'm the one who will have to deal with the results.

Yes, you're right, I should have complete confidence in our planning. And I do, I just want to know how it went with you, what happened to your Source?

Uncle Brent ?Really? Yes, it calms me down a lot."

That dream was even more bizarre than the last...

"...Chang is about to join us completely and the others will not be long in coming. Once the Source runs out of power he will join us of his own accord. And when that happens he will be unable to recognize himself." - Said Chadwick, seeming to look directly at where Jaime was.

However, before their eyes met the dream dissolved with that strong smell of cinnamon and Jaime woke up in his own bed, soaked in sweat, completely scared, but with the certainty that there was something very wrong with Dalton.

....

Jonathan knew that his life in Dalton would not be easy. But he wasn't the type to give up in the face of challenges, on the contrary, the bigger and more difficult the problem, the harder he dedicated himself to solving it. It was simply part of his nature. But if he was honest with himself maybe this time he had bitten off more than he could chew. On paper it hadn't been such a bad idea. After all, Dalton was the source of several successful men and having graduated there was the key to entering the best universities in the country. Of course, all these men were representatives of what he abhorred in society: power-hungry, concerned only with profits, capable of anything to ensure that his most sordid desires and pleasures were satisfied. But he'd justified it to himself and to his father that it was his chance to fight the system that created that kind of man from within. He knew the invitation could be a poison apple, but he had been willing to take the risk. Now as he walked into his dorm late at night, after being shooed out of the library the only place he liked in that prison he wondered if he couldn't talk to his father and ask him to get out of there, the only thing that stopped him from doing that was the shame of such an act. His dad has been through far worse than putting up with a bunch of snobs from a fancy school, what would he think of his son for dropping out so quickly? And he knew he wouldn't forgive himself for not trying harder. For not making those arrogant idiots even recognize their privilege. But try with whom? Certainly not with his roommate, who was currently sleeping indecently in the bed next to his. Eddie Chang was the epitome of everything that bothered him. He was cocky, aggressive, elitist, show off, and... very hot!

Obviously Robert wouldn't admit that to anyone. He wasn't ashamed of his sexuality, he had dated before, both men and women, he considered himself an open mind, but not so much to the point of being interested in someone like Chang and that was eating him up inside, because the problem was that despite out of all the denial this is exactly what was happening. But he was going to persevere and hope that his colleague never noticed. It was with that thought that he lay down on his bed, making a tremendous effort to look in the opposite direction. If he had given in to temptation he could have seen the other boy staring at him with eyes that glittered with mischief and a smug smile.

…..

Jonathan woke up feeling a very characteristic smell in the bedroom.

"What the fuck! Are you smoking weed, Chang?"

"Want a toke, Roberts?"

"What are you thinking? What if someone from management smells it?"

"Easy Roberts. I thought you, with all your 'think green' and 'no global warming' crap, would be a pot lover."

"I...I support medicinal use and..."

"Are you kidding me? You never smoked a joint? What did you and your liberal friends do for fun?"

"My friends used it, but I never wanted”

"Why not, man? There's nothing better for relaxing."

"I don't like feeling out of control."

"No kidding... I didn't even notice that you walk around looking like you have a stick up your ass..."

"Shut up and put out that damn joint."

"Fine, killjoy. But I tell you what, one of these days you're going to explode if you don't relax a little." - Edward replied leaving the half-smoked joint and the lighter on top of the bedside table and then getting up from the bed and taking off his underwear. Thus exposing all of his glory for Jonathan to admire, that is if he hadn't looked away.- "Dibs on the shower man."- Edward said as he walked, his cock swinging happily, making Jonathan look away again, this time towards the lighter, the joint and a huge sweaty underwear.

....

"So how's the situation?" Did he take the bait?"

"Which one?"

"Answer the question, Chang!"

It was mid-morning on Saturday and the boys didn't have school that day. The Crows were gathered at that moment in the headquarters, sharing some of the worldly pleasures that eighteen-year-olds weren't supposed to enjoy, but when you had the money, the right connections, and the right location, anything was possible.

"Not yet, but you were right Hartfield, he doesn't take his eyes off me when he thinks I'm not looking."

"And you have a problem with that?"

"Why would I? A hole is a hole. Don't get me wrong, one day I'm going to marry a beautiful woman who will raise my children and ensure my lineage continues. But until then, there's nothing wrong with having a little fun. And given the lack de of options for the opposite sex in Dalton... Roberts wouldn't be my first choice, but if what you say is true things might get more interesting."

"Things are going to get interesting I can assure you. But for that he needs to make the first move and soon. Dalton is sucking the Source right now and I need to secure Roberts and Miller on our side before Sanchez succumbs."- Chad admonished.

"I don't understand why Jones doesn't work with Miller while I take care of Roberts."

"I asked the same question bro. But apparently there's a sequence to follow according to the plan and..." - Started Mike

"....we shouldn't leave the plan." - Completed Eddie.

"Listen here you idiots, things have worked like this in Dalton for nearly a century and they continue to work for good reason. What we're doing here will secure our future. So make sure he takes the bait."

"Don't worry, Chad. He will, every one of them. And I'll be there to see it through."

….

Jonathan was sitting in the stands at Dalton Stadium watching with little interest the game unfolding in front of him. Surely he'd rather be doing something else right now, but when the closest thing to friends you had decided that chasing a ball was the best thing to do on a Saturday morning... The Miller twins weren't the kind of friend he would have at his old school. Coming from a small town in the countryside, they weren't quite rednecks, but by a slim margin. Thanks to their father, who despite working in the slaughter of animals wanted something better for his children and insisted that they receive a good education. They still had that country boy look and a strong south accent. But they were ordinary people, real people, that Jonathan could relate to... or so he thought. The truth is that it was difficult because they didn't have many interests in common. The situation with the third member of the small group was also not the best. Leonardo Reis was the son of Brazilian diplomats, what could have brought the two together, but Leonardo refused to discuss politics with him and only after much insistence he found out why, his coleague vehemently disapproved of some of the US foreign policies. Criticizing what he called the "cultural imposition" that the country took to other countries, including his. Jonathan wasn't oblivious to what his colleague said, but he was still a patriot and when he tried to talk about the good things America did for the world...

"The whole continent is America, Roberts. When you were interested it was America for Americans. All Americans. When interest diminished the size of America diminished with it, and so did the definition of American, didn't it?"

It had hit Jonathan like a blow. And after that moment he avoided having political discussions with Reis, but that left them without many subjects in common. The closest they came to saying anything interesting was when they talked about the Miller brothers at breakfast that morning before their arrival. After all they were the perfect picture of the ignorant American which apparently should irritate him far more than a potential ally like Jonathan.

"I understand you find my friendship with them weird, but I don't discuss politics with them, there's no reason for that, I know they are ignorant, but in addition they are good people, sincere and humble, without a trace of vanit. So, the blame for their ignorance lies with the politicians who want them to stay that way."

Ouch, that had been another blow, apparently the stereotype that Brazilians were a friendly people did not extend to children of diplomats. Leonardo's abrasiveness prevented Jonathan from taking the discussions further. Although he had been irritated to the point of asking why his colleague didn't do anything to try to modify his friends' ignorance and thus discovered the difference between the two:

"Roberts, they're the only friends I've made in this damn place and unlike you I'm not on a crusade, I don't want to be a politician and I only replied to you so you can stop bugging me. I really don’t care. So if the Millers want to shout to the winds about the wonders of the USA for me that's fine. As long as I can still discuss sports with them and play ball on the weekends maybe I can make it through the year without going crazy. And maybe you should do the same and stop trying to preach to a people you won't convert. Save your energy for when you get out of here , until then try to relax a little before you explode."

That speech kept reverberating in his head, Chang had used the exact same expression that morning. Not that he would listen to anything someone like Edward had to say, but Reis was different. Was he right? Was it better for him to keep quiet and stoically endure the year to end? It was so contrary to him that it seemed to deny nature itself. But it was being difficult, very difficult. He thought as he watched the Miller brothers run around with not a care in the world but to enjoy themselves.

And so he made a decision.

….

Jaime woke up that morning feeling again that he hadn't slept enough. But this time he knew why. His grandmother had tried to warn him twice. He should have listened the first time and gotten the hell out of there. His grandmother was special, she had been known as a healer in the small town where she lived in Mexico before the family immigrated to the United States and even there, people in the community who could not afford medical care often sought her out. Some others, mean ones, called her Bruja behind her back, which infuriated him when he was little. But she just laughed at Jaime's indignation and told him that was exactly what she was. After his grandmother's death he never thought about those conversations again, until now.

He thought about when he got out of bed and took off his pajamas that for some reason looked like they were made for someone much bigger than him. Which he didn't pay much attention to, with the flow of ideas of how to get out Dalton occupying all his thoughts until he was paralyzed when he saw his own image in the bathroom mirror. There was something wrong, he was absolutely sure of it, but he couldn't say what it was.

The image reflected was that of an eighteen-year-old boy of Mexican origin, fit and… handsome, very handsome. And that... that was who he'd always been. He thought giving himself an imaginary shake and going to shower. He had to get out of there, he would have plenty of time to admire himself in the mirror when he was away from this place.

….

Jonathan gave up feigning interest in the game and left the stadium, skirting it until he reached the woods that surrounded the entire property. He walked aimlessly until he found a clearing where he could sit. For the thousandth time since early morning he asked himself what the fuck he thought he was doing as he pulled a lighter and Edward's joint from his pants pocket.

Everything happened very quickly, while he heard the shower in the bathroom, he found himself strongly attracted by the three objects that his colleague had left behind. The desire to take Chang's underwear and smell them, to feel the pungent smell of his colleague was so strong that... without stopping to think he took the lighter and the joint, dressed quickly in the first clothes he could find and left the room running before the other boy got out of the shower.

After that, the day only got worse, from the altercation with Leonardo at breakfast to his inability to participate in the soccer game because his fear of running into Chang if he went to the dorm to change his clothes and ended up being interrogated about the whereabouts of his stuff. Just imagining his colleague's smug look... of course he could tell he had thrown that crap away which is exactly what he was supposed to do. But if he threw it away he couldn't use it. And that was the problem, he wanted. He wanted a lot. He had tried to tell himself no, that this was the result of Chang's teasing, or Leonardo's aggressive comment. But the truth is, he wanted it. It was ridiculous but apparently the school had beaten him in just two weeks. He thought what his father would say about that. Well... as far as he knew his dad had his fair share of drug experiences in his youth, although the general public didn't have a clue about that. Still, that wasn't him, he should fight that...

"... if you don't relax a little you're going to explode, Roberts..." - He heard himself say it out loud, while without even realizing it he lit the joint and slowly brought it to his mouth, his hand shaking. He hesitated for a final moment, closed his eyes and breathed in..."

...

"Let me get this straight Mr. Sanchez, you want to drop out of school? Right at the beginning of the semester."

"I haven't adapted sir, I really think it's better for me to go back home to my old school and maybe you'll find someone better to take my place."

"Someone better? Do you think so little of yourself and Dalton, Jaime?"

Principal Carmichael asked from behind his desk, giving Jaime a look between disappointed and challenging.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you sir. But I really don't think I belong here."

"Did you even try to fit in Jaime?" - Retorted the director, seeming to know that all the boy didn't want was to fit in. - "I want you to put aside my disappointment, although you are right to believe that you have let me down. For I see great potential in you boy, you remind me of many young men who passed through here." Continued the director with his first smile since Jaime entered the room. - "What I want you to worry about is the disappointment you'll cause your parents. I was the one who talked them over Jaime, remember that. The pride in their eyes... are you prepared to see disappointment instead? Without even have tried?"

The bastard was good at manipulation, Jaime thought. And the worst part is that he wasn't mistaken, Jaime's parents were going to be really disappointed. And that was really crazy, wasn't it? Give up a place at a school like Dalton because of some weird dreams? It was insane and... a gust of wind came in through the open window of the principal's office, carrying a scent of sugar and cinnamon.

"They will understand sir." - Jaime persevered, even as he saw the headmaster's brow tighten into a frown. Making the boy shrink in the chair waiting for the explosion that ended up not happening. Carmichael got up and went to the window and closed it, before turning to Jaime with a wide smile on his face.

"All right, Mr. Sanchez, if that is indeed your wish I won't hold you."

"Thank you sir." - Jaime said getting up and letting out a sigh of relief.

"Submit a formal notice of termination on monday when the school is open for business so that the responsible sector can carry out the necessary formalities."

"What? What do you mean?"

"It's the weekend Jaime, most of our employees are at home."

"But...but could you..."

"Oh no, I'm afraid I can't. Here in Dalton all the things are done in the right way, Jaime. Which brings me to another matter. Those clothes of yours are awfully big, please find pieces that fit your size while you're staying here. Even if it's only for a few days. I’ll see you on Monday. I suggest you use this time to think and try to adapt, maybe by then you'll realize that Dalton is where you belong."

….

Jonathan seemed to float, at least that's what he thought, as he could barely feel his feet touching the ground, while the trees around him became an indistinct blur and then gave way to a lawn that resembled a giant tapestry. He didn't know if it was normal to feel that way when you were high and in reality he didn't care at all. He didn't care! And that was sensational. He walked through the school grounds as if he were gliding through a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations and joy, joy like he had never felt before. That walk took him to the edge of a court, where a bunch of young men were running after a ball. A few minutes ago he had found that kind of thing boring, but a few minutes ago he hadn't felt that joy. He sat on a bench and watched with a goofy smile onand all the attention span he could muster the ball passing from hand to hand.

If he hadn't been in that state maybe he would have realized that as he watched the boys they watched him too.

"Looks like Roberts has finally taken one of your baits." - Commented Chad to Eddie.

"I told you it was only a matter of time."

"Is he high?" - Mike asked laughing.

"Uhum, and that's strong, I don't know where you got it Hartfield, but a few puffs nearly knocked me over, at this point Roberts probably doesn't even know who he is."

"What is our goal isn't it?" - Mike commented.

"Yes, but I confess that I would rather he had taken my underwear. That way it would be over and I could have had my fun."

"Disgusting, Chang"

"Not everyone is a prude like you, Hartfield."

"I'm not prudish Chang, I'm just classy."

"All your class and no fun, brother."

"If you want to have fun so badly do your job with Roberts."

"With pleasure! Watch and learn, dickheads." - He said walking confidently towards Jonathan. Who in turn only noticed the giant approaching when he stopped before him obscuring the sunlight.

"Wow, man. You're huge."

"You can't imagine how much… So Roberts, I would never imagine a guy as correct as you taking other people's things..."

"Says the guy who stole my sneakers."

"Ah, so you noticed? But I'm not a correct guy Roberts, you've made that clear several times. So if you do what I do what does that make you?" - Eddie asked as he sat down next to Jonathan on the bench, his smile growing.

"I don't know man…leave me alone."

"Oh but I can't do that Johnny Boy..."

"Do not call me that."

"Why not? It's just a nickname, something between friends."

"Because I'm not like that surfer guy and and you're not my friend!"

"You hurt my feelings, I thought we were doing so well, sharing things like real friends do, no worries at all, no sir, no worries, just enjoying life, Johnny Boy."

"I told you I'm not like him!"

"Aren't you? Really? Aren't you high as a rocket? And you're not high because you stole your roommate's joint? Aren't those things he would do when he was your age?"

"I...I...no...I just wanted to..."

"What did you want? Come on, J.B. tell your friend Eddie." - Eddie said putting his arm around his colleague's shoulders. Making the smell of sweat mixed with expensive perfume hit Jonathan full force, overloading a brain already at the limit.

"You smell… good..."

"Not quite the answer I was hoping for but... I know, we'll get to that part soon J.B., but no skipping steps. Our another friend Chad doesn't like that at all."

"Chad is … a fucking …. asshole..."

"I know, I know, but so do I, and you're my friend, you're friends with a fucking asshole, so what does that make you?"

"I'm not... am I... am? I don't know..."

"Fuck man and you were supposed to be some kind of political genius. Either it was all bullshit or this weed is way more potent than I realized."

"Huh?"

"Nothing man, nothing. How about you let your friend Eddie help you? Because that's what friends do, isn't it?" - Eddie said, getting closer to his colleague and ensuring that he received another hit of his potent musk.

"Sure... that's what friends… do.”

"Great! And you know what else friends do J.B.? Have fun together! And that's what you want, isn't it, have fun. It's what you've always wanted and if you have to break some rules for that, that's fine."

"Ahn, no... rules are important, they are the... aaaa.... struc… structu… fuck… structure of society."

"True, but the rules don't have to apply the same way to everyone, do they? If you can twist them a little bit, like you did this morning, it's no big deal, is it? You didn't stop being a nice guy because of that. You just did what you needed to do to have a little fun. And society didn't fall apart. So we're going to agree on one thing, a promise between friends. Soon the weed effect will wear off and the fun will go away. But you don't want that, do you?"

"No…I want to…have fun!"

"Finally!"

"Huh?"

"Damn it, I'm already getting pissed at this slowness.... pay attention to your friend Eddie, J.B. Pay attention! You’re going to sleep soon and when you wake up you won't remember our little conversation. But you'll remember two very important and irrefutable truths about yourself, the first is that you want to have fun, feel good is the most important thing for you and you want your friends to have fun too, especially your best friend Eddie ."

"Eddie... friend... fun."

"That's right, J.B., we're almost there. And because you want your friend Eddie to have a good time in the next few hours you're going to do whatever he asks of you, prove whatever he offers you, believe whatever he tells you, even be whatever he wants you to be, do we have a deal?"

"....do we have a deal…?"

"Yes, we have. And we're going to enjoy every moment of it. Chad, Mike help me out here, he’s off. I've never seen weed do that man, are you sure we didn't fry his brains?"

"There's nothing different about the weed. It just opened a door. What you saw is the force of the contract in action. And that's not even going to be the most impressive part I can assure you."

"Well, then help me carry him, I can't wait to introduce you to my new friend, J.B." - Eddie replied with a smile that mirrored their own.

….

"I've put together a pile of materials on Dalton's history, Mr Sanchez. Unfortunately some of them have not yet been digitized and can only be seen here in the library as they date back to the beginning of the last century."

"No problem, ma'am. I don't mind, I can study here."

"Academic work?"

"No ma'am. Just personal interest."

"I am happy to see a student dedicating himself to researching the history of the place. Dalton has a rich and vast history."

"Well, I feel like if I don't find out I'm going to deeply regret it."

....

Jonathan woke up with the worst headache he had ever had. The simple act of opening his eyes was a huge effort. At least he was rewarded by a vision that was both wonderful and frightening.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead"

"E-eddie?"

"J.B.” - Replied the colleague, smiling when called by his nickname.

"What happened, where are we?"

"You blacked out, man, in the middle of the schoolyard, so we had to bring you here." - Eddie explained, his smile even more pleased to see that J.B. had responded to the nickname without even realizing it.

"Thanks, man. But where exactly is here?"

"A place only a select few have ever set foot. Welcome to The Crow's Nest, J.B."

"What? Why would you bring me here?" - Jonathan asked indignantly.

"Don't be ungrateful J.B, you just look skinny, but you must have some muscle around, or those bones are made of lead. Carrying you around the whole school discreetly wasn't easy."- Commented a black boy sitting in front of a gigantic television and holding a video game controller.

"Do not call me like that."

"I thought that was your nickname"

"It's not…well it is in a way…but only Eddie calls me that and that's only because we're friends."

"Well then, next time you get wasted I'll drop you where you fall."

"Mike, leave the guy alone, he just woke up and he's never been through this before."

"Fine, but a thank you wasn't going to kill him."

"He's right, J.B."

"I didn't ask anyone to carry me, let alone this far."

"Apologize J.B. and stop being a pain in the ass, Mike is cool."

"Okay, thank you very much Michael for carrying me to an unknown place without my consent and I'm sorry if I got mad about it."

"J.B.!”

"Okay, okay. Thanks man."

"It's nothing J.B. - Mike replied smiling and staring at his colleague, who even started to form a sentence but stopped abruptly when he received a glare from Eddie.

"So where did Chad go? I hate playing alone. And I don't play with you anymore.”

"That's because you lost."

"No, it's because the time I won you almost broke the video game and my face."

"Fair enough. Chad went into town to get food. So why don't you ask J.B. to play with you?"

"I thank you again for the help and all…but I'm not hungry and I'd actually rather go back to the dorm."

"Liar." - Mike said still smiling.

"I beg your pardon..."

"Man, you smoked a joint potent enough to take you to the moon, you sure as hell want to eat a lot." - Mike retorted and suddenly Jonathan realized that that was true when he felt a gigantic hole in his belly that chose that moment to let out a very noticeable snoring.

"Told ya! Come on man, sit here, I won't bite you if you promise not to bite me, hungry boy." - Said Mike smiling, while Eddie stood up flexing his giant muscles.

"It'll be easier for you to get food from us than begging in the school kitchen, Chad should be here soon. So why don't you enjoy a little fun playing with Mike. In the meantime I'm going to take a shower, I stink. Chad will Kill me if he find’s me like this." - Said Eddie pulling an indignant Jonathan by the arms and placing him in the armchair next to Mike at the same hitting him with that pungent combination of sweat, expensive perfume and... hotness. Leaving him to such a stunned point that he only realized that Mike handed him a control and started the game when his colleague poked him.

"Pick one, J.B."

"Mortal Kombat, really?"

"Do you have a problem? We have other options, COD, Madden, Fifa and even some RPGs that maybe be more your thing. But sometimes all you need is to blow some heads with your bare hands. It's very useful with Eddie, he He's the type who'd love to blow some heads off in real life, so playing a game ends up being a safer option."

"Didn't you just say you didn't want to play with him anymore?Because he wanted to beat you up."

"Yeap, we're obligated to let him finish us in the game or he'll finish us in real life." - Mike said laughing.

"Classic Eddie." - Jonathan agreed, laughing along as he swiped through the game's fighter panel.

"But don't expect the same leniency Johnny B. I've been itching to crush someone for days. Chad just wants to play NBA, he's really obsessed with basketball, there's no way I can beat him even though I'm still better than him where it really matters, on the court. But when the new NBA comes out in a few day forget about your chance to play anything different for a long time J.B."

"You say it like you expect me to come back here." Commented Jonathan still looking for a fighter.

Why not? You're Eddie's friend, Eddie is our friend. It's natural that we spend more time together and even you have to admit that the Nest is fucking awesome.”

"Things aren't that simple, Mike." Jonthan answered still undecided about which fighter to choose.

"Of course they are, man. And you know what else is simple? Pick a fucking character." - Mike replied taking the control from Jonathan's hand and choosing for him.

"Hey! Not cool, man. Johnny Cage? You've gotta be kidding me."

"A Johny for a Johnny. See, simple. You gotta learn to relax man, I actually think you could learn a thing or two from that Johny." Said Mike pointing to the screen while returning the control to Jonathan.

"Like what? Being an arrogant asshole? That think he's a kind of God's gift to mankind?"

"What you call arrogance I call confidence. Wouldn't you like to be more confident?"

"I'm confident, man!" - Jonathan replie. His voice firmer, posture straighter, with a hintof smile that could be described as bordering on arrogance.

"Definitely you are, if you think you can beat me. But what your problem with Johnny Cage is?, If it's not about his confidence."

"The guy has no commitment, he's in a life or death situation and he still cracks jokes."

"He's a chill guy, better to laugh in the face of danger than to be terrified. And certainly better to chill out than spend all your time tense and worried about imaginary problems like you are." - Answered Mike while attacking with everything his colleague in the match.

"I don't get tense all the time, I can be chill." -Jonathan snapped, posture relaxing, legs spread and looking comfortable for the first time.

"Fine, you're confident and chill like him, so what's your problem with him?"

"The guy is an exhibitionist, bro"

"He's a movie star and has a badass body of course he's going to show off. If you had a body like his you'd show off too."

"I may not have a body like his, but I'm not that bad." - Answered Jonathan flexing muscles and taking his clothes to the limit.

"If this isn't showing off J.B...."

"Man, I might not be a monster like you guys, but I worked hard to get what I got, nothing fairer than showing off a little bit."

"Exactly like Johnny Cage."

"I know man, you chose well, he's my favorite character. So much so..."

"Finish Him - A well-known macabre voice echoed through the room shortly after J.B. performed a series of blows. But it didn't stop there, as the boy began to press the buttons in a specific sequence with the dexterity of a professional in the subject. - Johnny Cage Wins! Fatality!"

"Suck that Big Mike."

"Oh, come on, this whole time you were hiding the game, man?"

"You jumped to the wrong conclusions, man. Ready to lose again?"

You wish. I'm going to rip your virtual ass, asshole."

"Keep believing that, bro. That way I keep having fun at your expense."

"Jerk."

"I thought it was mandatory to hang out with you...”

"An answer worthy of your namesake, J.B."

"What to do if this is how I am?"

….

Jaime had scoured the pages of the books about Dalton and hadn't gotten much information other than what he had received from the institution itself. The academy was founded by elite families at the end of the 19th century, the land where the school was located had been donated by Dalton Hartfield, one of Chad's ancestors, who did not see the completion of the work and was honored by the first board of directors of the academy. Since then big names from the most diverse areas had passed through those corridors... and the same propaganda as always. Information was even more scarce in relation to the history of the clubs. There were five of them, each connected to one of the Dalton founding families. But so far he hadn't had much luck identifying much more than that. It didn't help matters that for much of the time he had been researching he had been overcome by a feeling of intense drowsiness, even dozing off for a few minutes. And the worst thing was, when that feeling passed, it was replaced by a hunger so intense that it made him eat lunch, twice! Which in turn made him feel drowsy again... that sequence of inconveniences combined with the lack of information probably were the main reason for the irritation he felt. He couldn't leave that place, he couldn't get information that would help him understand more about it and he was... terribly bored.

Jaime was never the type to do crazy things, or use drugs. He was quiet, studious, a little inquisitive perhaps. But today, just when he needed it most, he had an absurd desire to do nothing. No, that wasn't exactly it, he wanted to do something for fun, at the same time that he could just… relax. There was no point finding out what was going on in Dalton if in two days he would be out of there. He almost talked himself into giving up, but as he started to gather the books he noticed one he hadn't seen before.

"A Brief Account of the History of Dalton and His Accomplishments. Written by the Crows Club in the year 1956 under the chairmanship of Chadwick Wentworth Hartfield." Jaime read aloud, then opened the book and leafed through it until he found a photo of the authors.

He then sat down and went back to the beginning of the book with his interest fully renewed.

....

"Can any of the wankers help out here?" - Chad asked carrying who knows how enough food to feed a small family for a week. Although given his gigantic size maybe that wasn't such a big exaggeration.

"Here man, let me take these." - Said J.B. taking at least four boxes of pizza, while Mike grabbed two packs of beer, leaving Chad with just a few bags that he deposited in table before shooting Jonathan a smile he never thought his colleague would be able to give. He still had that air of arrogance, but also joy, as if he was genuinely happy that Jonathan was there.

"Hi Roberts, glad to see you made yourself at home."

"Sorry if I intruded on your space Chadwick, but the guys insisted I stay and besides, you guys brought me here."

"Relax, Roberts. I was just kidding, a friend of Eddie's and from what I'm seeing a friend of Mike is a friend of mine too."

"Then you can call me J.B. since it looks like I'm going to have to get used to that stupid nickname."

"Since we're exchanging pleasantries, you can call me Chad and help yourself to J.B." - Said the boy opening one of the pizza boxes and making Jonathan's hunger reach painful levels.

"Thanks, man. But shouldn't we wait for Eddie?"

"With the way Chang takes so long to get ready all the food will be rotten by the time we eat."

"I heard that, Hartfield, and I think it's a enormous hypocrisy on your part since you're the only one of us who's always dressed up." - Said Eddie Chang entering at that moment dressed in a much simpler way than his friend and bringing a bottle in his hand.

"What do you have there, Eddie?" Mike asked curiously.

"A little treat for later. But now I want to eat. - Eddie replied before turning to J.B. and seeing that his colleague still hadn't eaten anything. - Why aren't you eating yet, man? You must be hungry."

For the first time in what seemed like hours Jonathan felt like he was himself and not some inconsequential asshole who thought he could do whatever he wanted without care. But at the same time his three classmates had been nice to him in a way he hadn't thought possible and he had really enjoyed himself. Not knowing what to do, he opted for the safest option.

"I think I'd better go and let you eat, thanks for the afternoon guys."

"What the fuck do you think you're doing bro?" - Eddie replied irritably. Scaring Jonathan who had forgotten how explosive he could be.

"I... I..."

"Sit your goddamn ass over there and eat a slice of the pizza Chad get the trouble of getting to you."

Shocked and half numb Jonathan sat up and picked up a slice of pizza, took a bite and felt like he had never eaten anything so good in his entire life. Without stopping to think, he devoured the rest of the piece in a few seconds, accepting the beer that Mike held out to him and taking a long drink, feeling the icy liquid go down his throat with another wave of pleasure.

"Great, that's my man! Now that you're out of the loop can you tell us why the fuck you wanted to leave?" - Eddie said, his voice ranging from pride to irritation in an instant.

"Sorry guys. It's just that you've been nice to me and I didn't want to pick a fight so I thought it would be best to just leave."

"And why did you think you would pick a fight, J.B? Did we do something to offend you in any way?"

"It's just...never mind."

"No, you can talk, man. We're all friends here, aren't we? And while you're talking, you can eat and drink as much as you like, it's on the house."

"So, that's exactly the problem. - Jonathan said as he helped himself to another piece and faced his colleagues sitting around him, each one also holding a piece of pizza and a beer. - The On The House. Don't get me wrong, you guys are cool, but it's about privilege, about bending the rules. There's no way you could have gotten those alcoholic drinks within the law. Or the fact that apparently you can come and go from school as you please."

"I understand you, man. But that's kind of hypocritical of you, isn't it? Mister son of a senator? - Mike started causing a feeling of deja vu in Jonathan. - You came from privilege, I didn't."

"It's different man. I didn't deliberately choose to be who I am and I never purposely used my father figure to get something. Whereas you chose to share in the perks that Eddie and Chad's privilege affords."

"How can one thing be different from the other? You say you didn't deliberately choose to use privilege, but you're here at Dalton, an elite school, home to some of the greatest examples of privilege in our history. By your own choice. There is no difference at all. I just accepted who I am instead of hiding."

Jonathan felt uncomfortable both physically, as it felt like his clothes were suffocating him, and mentally, as he found himself agreeing with Mike's argument. Though a part of him told him there was a flaw in his colleague's logic. But that part didn't have a chance to speak up, because while he was trying to collect his thoughts, between one drink of beer and another, it was Chad's turn to speak up.

"J.B. you complain about our supposed privilege. But here in Dalton it's no different than anyone else, anyone with a car and permission can go out for the weekend. And that's fine, alcohol shouldn't be here, but the way you're drinking that beer is certainly not the first time you've had it. So maybe it's time for you to stop judging others. And especially stop judging yourself. I think that you might have what my father calls the Underdog Syndrome. You are ashamed of the position you have, of what it represents and in an attempt to have the sympathy of others and be accepted you diminish yourself and deny who you are. And that's why you get so angry with Dalton and with us, because you're afraid of realizing that you might have chosen exactly the right place for you. And everything you've done today just showed you that maybe it's time to accept yourself."

Hearing that irritated Jonathan, because it wasn't true, it couldn't be true. Yet he was here, in Dalton, he had had fun with the others, even struck up friendships with them. Was he really that different from the others? Damn it, why were his clothes so tight? That T-shirt was going to end up suffocating him.

He remembered while playing with Mike. The joy, the fun. He knew that was who he was, chill, confident, fun. So why did he insist on making things complex? Why did everything with him have to be so much work? Maybe Chad was right and he should assume he was like the others at Dalton. No! He wasn't, he had goals, he had plans and he... just wanted to relax sometimes and have a little fun. Damn restrictive thing! He thought right before ripping his own shirt with his hands.

"Suffocating crap shit!" - He shouted. Not knowing if he was talking about the T-shirt or his own life. Staring angrily at the fallen pieces of fabric until Eddie started laughing, and then he was laughing and suddenly they were all laughing out loud like this was the funniest thing that will ever happen to them.

"Man that was fucking awesome! You looked like the Hulk!"- Mike said, amazed.

"Well, the t-shirt sure was tight, I don't know how I managed to get it on in the morning!" - Commented J.B. back to a chill attitude.

"And the funniest thing is that the pants held up, barely but they held up, like in the old Hulk comics. The only thing missing was being purple." - Mike completed.

"I think the conversation around here has gotten unnecessarily complicated. It's a fucking Saturday afternoon, we should be having fun and not discussing that sort of thing. Which brings me to this beauty here, I chose this one in honor of you J.B." - Said Eddie taking the bottle of drink he brought with him and showing the label to his colleagues: Johnnie Walker Private Collection. - Now sit there and enjoy a classy man drink with your friends. And if you make a scandal like that again, you'll have to settle it with me." Eddie concluded, handing his friend a glass of the golden drink. Which he accepted, sat down and smiled a totally different smile from his usual but very similar to others in that room.

"You chose well Eddie, nothing pleases me like a respectable drink a good company."

….

"The history of the city of Dalton is intertwined with the history of the academy of the same name, as one would not exist without the other. The lands that gave birth to both were originally owned by Dalton "The Crow" Hartfield and were received from as a reward for his participation on the side of the Union in the Civil War. Although for many that was a poisoned reward because the lands located in northern New Hampshire were considered cursed since the time that the Algonquian natives inhabited the place.

Dalton Hartfield a successful businessman in full maturity, didn't care about what he considered outdated superstitions and decided to use the land to create a school for young men that he could shape in the way he saw himself and with which he raised his own children: to be strong and powerful men both physically and mentally.

During his life he repeated several times that he valued ambition and insight in a young man more than purely academic achievements." -Read Jaime thinking that old Dalton had indeed successfully gotten what he wanted if he counted most of Jamie's peers at the academy.

Before continuing reading, he stared for a long time at an image of Chad's ancestor who, in a way, was responsible for what was now happening to him.

"... however the construction of the school faced problems from the beginning, due to material, animal and finally human losses. After a while the construction team itself had to be replaced by men sent from other states, and even these began to accuse those lands from being cursed. It was necessary for Dalton himself to go to the construction site and decide to spend a night alone in the place that everyone accused of being the lair of some evil spirit. When the construction teams returned the following day, they found the Lord Harrfield still alive, still imposing and assuring them that from that moment the work would continue without interruption. The work however would not be completed until 1873 shortly after Dalton himself died. His only requests were that he be buried in the place he he put so much work into building it and he couldn't see the whole thing being named after him, not the family name but his first name.

His son Dalton Hartfield Junior was the first chairman of the board of directors and with unanimous votes from the other members of the council made up of members of other powerful families of the time accepted both requests of the late father. The city of Dalton emerged as a result of the departure of professors and employees to work at the academy, and even today most of its residents are connected in some way to our institution."

"Wonderful, I'm in a prison surrounded by miles of forests and even if I manage to get out of here I'll run into more jailers." - Thought Jaime being invaded by a feeling of frustration that seemed more intense than expected. Pushing that feeling aside, he flipped through the book until he found another passage of interest.

"Regarding the clubs. The tradition of Dalton's clubs would only be established in 1888 with the creation of the first of them, the Dalton Crows, by Dalton Hartfield IV. The name was chosen in honor of his great-grandfather's nickname. The other clubs followed the tradition of choosing animal names, usually choosing names linked to totemic animals of native peoples in honor of the first inhabitants of the region. - Read Jaime - Beautiful homage, first they exterminate, then occupy the land and finally make a cultural appropriation." Jaime commented to himself, frustration rising inside him, like boiling hot water.

"... since then three more Hartfields have occupied the chair of president of the Crows, including the current president Chadwick Wentworth Hartfield. As for the traditions and rituals of each club, we will not talk about them because they are exclusive knowledge of its members. But we advise every Dalton student who reads this manuscript to join one of the clubs and experience the values of brotherhood, companionship and masculinity that they are sure to provide." - Finished Jaime turning the page in the hope of finding some useful information even though he knew it would be unlikely. But even knowing that, the anger he felt when he didn't find anything made him explode in an unexpected way.

"What the fuck, stupid book, stuoid school that won't let me out!" - He shouted, the screams echoing in the empty library. But that wasn't the worst of it, as he was immediately overcome by a fit of alien and uncontrollable laughter. When that too ended he sat down again, put his hands on his face and cried thinking about the possibility that he was going crazy little by little.

....

"So, J.B., what's it like being a senator's son?" Mike asked his friend.

"I don't know man, most of the time it's cool, my dad works a lot, we don't see much of each other, but whenever we see each other it's cool."

"Really? Senator Roberts has always struck me as the demanding type. Doesn't he push you a lot?" - Chad asked.

"Pressure in what way?" asked J.B.

"I imagine he pressured you to participate in campaign, fundraisers, do some social work, that sort of thing. Not to mention he must expect you to follow in his footsteps. There must have been some pressure in that regard, no?"

"No man, my dad is cool, yes I did all those things, but because it was in my best interest to do it and not because he pushed me. And as for following in his footsteps, well, he's always made it clear that he doesn't want to build a dynasty, that he is precisely against this kind of family power, but that I am free to pursue a career in politics if that is what I want."

"Seriously man, do you really like this shit?" - Mike asked.

"Of course I like it, why would I do something I don't like?" - J.B. retorted, taking another sip of Whiskey and savoring the intense flavor with pleasure at the same time the drunken feeling that had settled in his head over the last few hours intensified.

"Well, it doesn't seem like your kind of thing." - Mike replied, seeing his colleague bring one of the very expensive Cohiba cigars that Chad had offered to his friends to his lips.

"In what way?"

"What Mike is saying is that you are a guy who likes to enjoy the finer things in life, a drink and a cigar with friends, play video game or ball, sometimes smoking a joint followed by a good meal. Not counting the hours you spend at the gym working those muscles and feeling the pleasure of seeing them grow." - Chad replied, while sipping his whiskey."

A sense of confusion added to J.B.'s drunkenness. That person wasn't him. It couldn't be. But at the same time he had done most of those things that very day and was still doing them, as the cigar and whiskey in his hand attested. And no one was his size without dedication to the gym. Besides, he had vague memories of playing ball with his friends. Alright, he liked a good time and who didn't? But that didn't stop him from doing other things, useful things, important things!

"I don't see how one thing excludes the other, guys." - He replied.

"He's right. - Eddie agreed. - You're forgetting that J.B. is a man from Dalton, he has his ambitions, his goals and if for that he needs to endure fundraiser and social work, it's part of the process, right? But I bet you took advantage of some events to have a few drinks and others to slip into some skirts or pants. Being the senator's son must have been easy, right J.B., you degenerate?"

No, he would never do something like that, that went against everything his father believed in! - He thought dropping the cigar and whiskey and holding his face with his hands... - But he wasn't his father, he was a man and had the right to his opinions and his pleasures. Besides, what his father didn't know didn't hurt him. And there was nothing wrong with him making out with a campaign agent or letting a loyal voter give him a blowjob... and the drinks were there for drinking, wasn't it?

In those few moments his body went through another expansion, pectorals widening, arms the size of cannons, legs the size of tree trunks taking his pants to the limit and leaving him the approximate size of a mammoth, that is, the same size as his friends. The face that was already handsome also took on the same predatory beauty as the others, wrapped in the characteristic air of arrogance and superiority. The malicious smile partially hidden by the return of the cigar to the mouth and the eyes shining with mischief.

"You know me too well Eddie."

"Not as much as I'd like."

"Dude, come on, let it flirt when we're not around." - Mike spoke indignantly.

"You can relax Mike, nothing is going to happen between us. As much as I love a good Wagyu steak, being with Eddie would be like being with myself, we are too similar."

"Apparently not enough for you to know I'm Chinese and wagyu beef is Japanese, asshole."

"And who cares?"

"You should if you want to avoid a diplomatic incident while working with your father." - Commented Chad smiling.

"Please, dude. More respect for my abilities. I would never make a gaffe like that with someone important."

"You're asking to get your ass kicked Roberts and not the way you like it."

"Damn, you're really hot when you're pissed off. But no way man. We can be each other's wing man and pick up some holes to fuck.At least until Chad gets us the bridesmaids of his snotty future wife. And even after that if you don't lose balls once married."

"Fuck you, asshole. - Eddie replied but smiling. - Although it's not a bad idea.

"You assume I'm going to invite you to my wedding." - Chad spoke.

"What's the use of this little club here if it's not to strengthen the bonds of friendship and fellowship of Dalton's promising young men?"

"As far as I know you are not part of the club J.B." - Mike replied with a smile identical to the others.

"So what's the point of all this courting? Obviously you want me at the club and that's fine with me. We're going to have a lot of fun together."

....

Jaime found himself in the Crows' headquarters again. Two of them, one shirtless, were playing video games while exchanging insults in a friendly manner. Jaime couldn't see their faces at first, until the shirtless one turned around.

"Hey Mike, bro, get me another beer."

With a shock Jaime realized that it was Jonathan Roberts, but a very different version of the one he knew.

"I'm not your employee J.B. Get your ass off the chair and get it yourself." - Mchael Jones replied, sitting in another armchair talking to Chadwick Hartfield, but there was something behind him, a kind of shadow.

"If I lose here you're going to have to play with Eddie."

"Good point!" - Answered Mike getting up and taking a beer to his colleague. And so Jaime was able to see what was behind him. It was the shape of a thin boy. And as he followed with his gaze he saw that both Jonathan and Eddie had figures behind them. He approached Chadwick trusting that his colleague wouldn't be able to see him and was surprised because even he had a figure behind him, not as thin as the others, but still something that put him on the same level as his colleagues. As he watched Mike sat back down.

"Now what? J.B. is fully integrated. What's next?"

"Tomorrow we'll take a little field trip and secure Miller. Then we just wait for the Source to come to us."

"Just that?"

"From what my dad and Carmichael said after the Source joined us, yes. Just that."

"But...?"

"No buts, Mike."

"Come on Chad, I think that despite the short time we've known each other we're friends. Besides, we're so similar that I can recognize the same signs of concern in you that I recognize in myself."

"It's just that we're very close and I fear that something could fail at the last minute, some unforeseen event. I've already had to deal with the little things that each of you brought to the group, and to my... personality. I'm afraid of failing Dalton ."

"You knew when you started the job that it would be a challenge and so far you've done it well. You are a descendant of Dalton and you fulfill the role perfectly."

"But I wasn't always like this. Before you I was the first to be here. The first on the Contract. Tell me Mike, what do you remember from before?"

"I don't know man, I know that Dalton changed me and I know that you had a part in that, just like I had in what came after. But I don't remember before and to be honest I don't even want to, for me my life has always been like this way and I like it, I like it a lot. I like who I am, I like being like this and I like you motherfucker"

"But that's what worries me man, I like you too and those two suckers over there. Really. I believe little about me must have changed when I came here, after all the source wasn't even here when I came and I'm a Hartfield, we are bred from the cradle in the Dalton ways. What worries me is this... fraternity. When I started the job I was impeccable and relentless. And now I'm here talking about my feelings and apprehensions. That doesn't it came from me. And I'm afraid I'm failing Dalton in that."

"Man, Dalton valued ambition and relentlessness. But he also valued companionship and friendship between his men. It's all in those damn books you made me read. Another thing, you talk about like the old man is still around."

"But he is Mike. His bones are here in this place and more than that, his very essence. It's what guides us and points the way. It's why all of you are here."

"Now you said something I've been itching to ask for days. Eddie and J.B. I understand, but me and Miller? Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the opportunity and like I said I'm very happy. But I don't understand."

"Come with me, we're already on the final stretch anyway. You two too, follow me." Chad said, guiding his friends to a red door at the back of the room, where they entered one by one. Jaime stood for a moment staring at the door before deciding to follow them.

….

Jaime walked through the door and found himself back in Dalton's library, wrapped in the familiar scent of cinnamon. Open on his study table was one of the books he had been reading, scribbled on the edges of the pages a proverb he knew, but slightly altered.

"All work and no play makes Jaime a dull boy."

He read it aloud, feeling invaded by a feeling of uneasiness. How did he know that phrase? As he tried to remember he heard a puppy yelp coming from a hallway between bookshelves. Following the noise he found himself in front of an empty corridor.As he turned to return to the starting point, a book fell in front of him. Jaime picked it up from the floor and read the title.

"Doctor Sleep. A Sequel to The Shining"

And suddenly he understood where the sick feeling had come from. He watched the Kubrick movie only once and it traumatized him so much that he never even considered reading the Stephen King book, let alone the sequel. But if for some reason these visions were showing him that book, that must have mattered. As he prepared to open it he was interrupted by a growl.

When he turned to see where the noise had come from, he found himself facing two huge wolves, different from the one in his first dream. Without stopping to think he broke into a run, the wolves in hot pursuit, when he reached the end of the corridor he ran into that first wolf. He dodged the other way, dropping the book in the process. Without looking back he continued to run desperately until he found a room with an open door. He rushed in and closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief. He could hear the howling and scratching of the wolves at the door behind him.

Breathing relieved he heard that first yelp again, coming from the back of that room. Adjusting his eyes to the dim light he saw a huddled shape leaning against a corner of the wall. It was too big to be a puppy, and it was shaped like a human being curled up in a fetal position.

As Jaime hesitated in approaching to check who it was, the yelps suddenly became howls, similar to those outside the room, as the figure in front of him began to grow, muscles expanding and tearing the clothing, his size seeming to double. Jaime in desperation looked for another way out and found it next to the strange creature that was now panting amid the howls.

Creating courage he started to run again to that door, but when he turned the handle he realized that it was locked. Panicking, he turned and finally found what it was he had been looking at.

Before him was that new version of Jonathan Roberts, staring at him with a maniacal predator's grin, not far from a wolf's grimace. But this time it wasn't a howl coming out of his mouth when he opened it.

"Here's Johnny!" - He said in a perfect copy of Jack Nicholson. And just like Shelley Duvall Jaime screamed.

…..

"Mr. Sanchez, wake up, Mr. Sanchez." A female voice spoke to him at the same time as a hand shook his shoulders lightly.

"Ah, what…where am I?"

"I believe you fell asleep while reading Mr. Sanchez."

Jaime was in the library, but there were no wolves or homicidal colleagues around. Only Mrs. O'Malley, the old librarian and one of Dalton's few female employees, who was looking at him very reproachfully at the moment.

"I'm sorry Mrs. O'Malley I really lost track of time." - He said stretching the compact but powerful muscles of his arms and back, testing the limits of his shirt and making him feel at the same time pleasure and a feeling that there was something wrong with it, although he didn't know what.

Deciding to go after what he was sure was wrong, he decided to clear up some of his doubts with the source of information he had in front of him. He started with the easiest.

"Mrs. O'Malley, I'm sorry to bother you but where can I get a copy of The Shining or Doctor Sleep in the library?"

"Mr. Sanchez you don't bother me, as long as you promise me that this situation won't happen again. And unfortunately I can't help you, Dalton has an extensive collection of Mr. King's works, after all he is one of the great writers of our time and was born in New England, but curiously we don't own those two specific titles. I suggest you buy a digital book to read on one of those awful e-readers. - She said as if that was the most inappropriate thing in the world, even more than sleeping in her precious library - Or order a physical copy in the city of Dalton."

"How? If I'm stuck in here?" - He asked bitterly.

"I beg your pardon. You certainly aren't stuck in Dalton. Also, today is a free day if you want to go into town."

"Really?" - That could be his chance to run away, but did he really want that? Now that he knew what had happened to his classmates, that somehow they had been altered by some evil force. And wouldn't it be better for him to run away precisely because of that? The battle of conflicting thoughts was interrupted by the librarian who answered him curtly, probably still offended by his behavior.

"Perhaps you should pay more attention, but yes, today Dalton students are allowed to go into town, as long as they have a permission and car to go with." She replied making him go from joy to frustration, where would he get a car? Who would he hitchhike to? Deciding to deal with that later, he continued to dispel his doubts, adopting a rather smarmy tone of voice in an attempt to gain the old hag's goodwill.

"Mrs O'Malley I'm sorry if I made it sound like I'm not pleased to be at Dalton, nothing could be further from the truth than that. I'm very happy and honored to be here. And also for the help you've given me. I would also like to thank you for the books you got me, they helped me a lot. However, I still have a doubt and as you are probably the greatest holder of knowledge about Dalton, a true pillar of our community I would say, could you clarify it?" - He said with a bright smile appearing on his face almost as if it was second nature.

"Boy, thanks for the kind words but I've lived with generations of Dalton lads, don't think I don't know how to recognize a smarmy smile. But I congratulate you on the initiative, it's the kind of attitude Dalton Hartfield would have approved of. So yes, I'll help you with what I can."

It hit him like a blow, was he acting the way the others in Dalton acted, the way Dalton himself would have wanted him to act? But he needed to know more and if he had to use the enemy's weapons to get what he wanted, then he would.

"You hurt my feelings Mrs O'Malley, my words were not only kind but true. So, I read that Dalton Hartfield was buried on the school grounds, would you know the location?"

"I'm sorry lad, but it looks like all your kind words won't do you any good today. The exact location of Dalton Hartfield's grave is unknown and has been the subject of speculation over the last century, so neither I nor anyone else could help you with that. Unless..."

" Unless?"

"Well, one would assume that the Hartfield family might know something about it and choose not to share."

It made sense, because if what he thought was true was indeed true, the Hartfields wouldn't want anyone to know that location. He would have to take a risky step.

"Chadwick Hartfield certainly has a car, doesn't he?"

"Another question I can't answer, but it's completely beyond my purview, dear."

"I'm sorry Mrs O'Malley, I was thinking out loud. And you were a great help." - He replied smiling that bright smile, while thinking that the time had come for him to meet with the infamous Dalton's Crows Club.

[jerzwriter]

Movie? What Movie?

Book: Open Heart (Bok 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Characters: Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma, Aurora Emery Rating: Teen Words: 1,200 Summary: Tobias & Casey are officially together and happy to be out in the open... but does that leave anyone safe? Join them on date night and find out. A/N: This is for Day 5 of @tobias-carrick-appreciation-week, Date Night. Also @julychallenge - Pink: Love, Playfulness, Romance, Fun and Black: Seduction and Attraction.

Art is by the always incredible in every possible way @/artbyainna on Instagram. Love her to bits!

“Hey!” Tobias smiled when Bryce opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Bryce grinned as Jackie grimaced in the distance.

“Then start paying a sixth of the rent, Meathead!”

Bryce leaned closer to Tobias, his voice barely a whisper. “They don’t get it… having people like us around, this charisma, these looks… it’s a gift in and of itself. They don’t realize the value.”

Tobias barked out a laugh. A year ago, he would have quickly agreed with the younger surgeon, but now he only partly agreed.

“I suppose it has some value,” Tobias smirked. “But I have to agree with Jackie. It doesn’t pay the bills.”

“I’m disappointed in you,” Bryce sighed. “If falling in love does this to the ego… then keep that shit away from me.”

“Oh,” Tobias grinned, walking past him. “Is that why you keep begging me for my little black book?”

“Hey! I don’t want that for falling in love!” He hollered as they walked down the hall.

Aurora was sitting on the couch, medical journals strewn out before her, when Tobias stepped into the living room. “Hey, boss!” she said without looking up.

“Aurora,” he smiled. “Tell me the truth, were you really looking over cases, or are you doing this to impress me?”

She shot him a look that screamed, 'You’re not as funny as you think.'

“Great,” Jackie sighed. “Now we get two ego-maniacs hanging around our place for free.”

“In fairness, Casey is usually at my place… so I’m responsible for reducing the apartment’s population.”

“Which is exactly why I like you more!” Jackie noted to Bryce’s chagrin. “So, why are you here tonight?”

“I’m picking my girl up for a date,” he beamed, manspreading on the loveseat.

“What do you have planned for tonight?” Aurora teased. “Limo outside? Sorelina’s? Taking in a play? Having her name written over the Boston skyline?”

"Nah," Bryce jumped in. “I say he's sneaking her off for a weekend on the Cape."

“Nah, both wrong!” Jackie smirked. “Couple’s massage – where things are bound to get all sorts of out of control, and they’ll be banished for life.”

Tobias pointed at Jackie with a grin. “While that is an excellent idea, one I will be adding to our calendar, tonight is just a movie and burgers at Mike’s after… if any of you want to join us, you’re more than welcome to…”

“PASS!” Jackie yelled.

“I’m good!” Aurora concurred, and Bryce shouted a resounding, “Hell no!”

“Jesus! I was even going to offer to pay!”

Jackie raised her head for a split-second, then shook it, reconfirming she was a no.

“Damn…” Tobias repeated. “Are we that bad to hang out with?”

“YES!” they said in unison as an oblivious Casey walked into the room, smiling ear to ear.

“Hey,” she beamed as Tobias’s eyes trailed the length of her body.

“Goddamn,” he growled, visibly squirming in his seat. “Look at you.”

“You like?” Casey blushed, doing a quick turn before finding a seat on his lap.

“Oh, you know I do.”

The three friends gave each other the side eye as the enamored couple lost themselves in a kiss. When they came up for air, Casey looked at her watch. “Oh, we should go, the movie starts in thirty minutes. Are any of you joining us?”

“PASS!” they all yelled again.

“But guys… we’re going to see In the Heights!”

“Hmm,” Aurora hummed, mulling it over for a moment. “It’s a Lin-Manuel Miranda production… so there is a chance Casey may watch some of the film.”

“She’ll watch a little bit of the beginning, catch a second or two when his kisses move to her neck during the middle, and a little bit at the end when she realizes the lights are about to turn on. Outside of that? Not a chance.”

“What!” Casey gasped. “Are you saying you won’t join us because you’re afraid we won’t be able to keep our hands off of each other during the movie?”

“No,” Jackie replied. “We know you won’t be able to keep your hands off of each other at the movie or at dinner after.”

"What dinner later?" Bryce laughed. "Twenty bucks say they don’t even make it to the diner. The movie ends, and they fast-track it back to his place… where they can make all sorts of ugly noises with no audience.”

“You know, I thank God that he has his own place every day,” Aurora sighed. “Could you imagine if we had to listen to that all the time?”

“No!” Bryce stated as Jackie glared his way.

“I’d like to imagine you not being here all the time, too!”

“I can’t believe it,” Casey said with disappointment. “You really think we can’t get through a movie without groping each other.”

“Absolutely,” Aurora confirmed.

Casey was aghast, but Tobias beamed with pride. “Baby, it looks like we have a reputation.”

“Yeah,” she said. “One we’re about to prove wrong! You’ll see, we’ll make the whole movie without making out. I’ll Facetime you bits and pieces, and you’ll have to admit you’re wrong.”

“You do that,” Aurora winked as Tobias put on Casey’s coat. The mischievous look in his eye had them convinced they wouldn’t hear from their friend all night despite her protests to the contrary.

“You’ll see!” she said, heading out the door. “I’ll give you a full review of the movie… because I’ll be paying total attention!”

“All right,” Aurora grinned.

“Use protection,” Bryce followed… and then they were gone.

One hour later...

“Mmmh....” Casey groaned, a smile coming to her kiss-swollen lips as Tobias ran his hands through her hair.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into her ear as his hand traveled from her waist, settling with a firm squeeze on her ass.

“You’re beautiful,” she breathed, grasping the back of his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Jesus, get a room!” An unfamiliar voice called out, and Casey pulled back for a moment, looking into Tobias’s aqua eyes glistening in the darkness.

“Fuck it,” she said, going in for another kiss. The man was entirely too gorgeous. Well worth enduring a public shaming over.

When she ran her hand over his head, a piece of popcorn fell, finding a home in her cleavage. Casey laughed, but Tobias’s eyes went ablaze with desire. His mouth was ready to retrieve it when she stopped him.

“Wait... we didn’t buy popcorn... where did that come from?”

That’s when they realized they were covered in buttery little kernels. Casey choked back a laugh. “Are people throwing popcorn at us?”

“Appears so,” he grinned.

“Hey, what do you say we....”

Casey already had her purse in hand, “I'm two steps ahead of you. Let's get the hell out of here!”

They had made it forty minutes into the two-and-a-half-hour flick; as for the diner? That would be replaced by Thai delivery at midnight after... well... you know.

Their minds on other things, they never stopped to see who was throwing the popcorn their way, but when Casey heard Bryce, Jackie, and Aurora discussing the movie when she returned home the next day, it became clear.

“So,” Jackie said, clearing her throat. “How was that date? Did you make it to the diner?”

“Did you make it through the movie?” Bryce smirked.

Casey blushed as she reached into her coat pocket – a single kernel she missed still nestling inside.

“You just wait,” she said, heading to her room. “One day, you’ll be as crazy in love as I am... and I will so get you back!”

“No, you won’t,” Jackie yelled. “You’ll still be too busy sucking face with Tobias!”

The friends erupted in laughter, and behind her bedroom door, Casey did the same. All eagerly looking forward to the next date night.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[chirpsythismorning]

This makes me feel like Mike is lying and knows he’s lying in his monologue:

And…

And dot dot dot…?

El’s literally choking and Mike is frozen.

Will pushes Mike and tells him not to stop, reminding him of his speech in the van.

Then, even as he is about to say it, HE STALLS.

It’s clear Mike is having a serious internal conflict when it comes to saying I love you to El, and for a character whose most important rule is ‘friends don’t lie’ and whose sister had an identical plot line where she couldn’t tell her boyfriend I love you when she realized she didn’t love him and was starting to have stronger feelings for someone else, I feel like the answer is right there.

But the And dot dot dot just does it for me.

Like what is with the dramatics.???

It’s so weird to me because if the problem was as simple as Mike being scared of losing El, he wouldn’t have risked things by not saying it when she was crying in her room during their fight.

As the cop car was taking her away, it wouldn’t have been the perfect moment, and yet the way Mike said everything he could to reassure her but avoided simply saying the one thing he knew she wanted to hear, something that had her crying not even 5 minutes earlier, saying it could have been a way for Mike to comfort her in this moment of uncertainty.

Then there’s the letter, where El says from instead of love, and this is the last semblance of contact they have with each other, which has given Mike the impression that they had a fight they could never come back from. And so, he lost her in that moment. His greatest fear has apparently already come to fruition.

The rest of the season he continues to grapple with his insecurities and his concerns with where him and El stand, with Will reassuring him. He nods his head about someone he cares about not liking the truth. Him constantly talking about his conflict with El as if it’s something that cannot be fixed?? Dude it required 3 words?? And what reason exactly would he have to agree with what Will said, unless there is some truth he’s already aware of that he doesn’t think El will like?

And then their reunion in the desert happens. THIS could finally be the moment he makes clear to El how he feels. He hasn’t lost her, they’re back with each other and she’s safe and alive and happy to see him.

So why when she leans in fully, does he hold himself back (El’s face is perfectly symmetrical vertically with the frame when their foreheads meet, whereas Mike is more so leaning back horizontally as much as he can, doing his best to keep his mouth as far away from El as possible)?...

So, no kiss then?…

After they separate and smile at each other relieved, instead of making a point to say ‘that thing’, Mike decides to shift focus from them, to those around them, seeking our Will specifically.

At Surfer Boy, they get interrupted by Argyle and his pineapple pizza. Leading up to it, Mike doesn’t look like he’s about to confess this deep and emotional reason for why he couldn’t say I love you.

I guess… I dunno… I guess I just wanted to say that—

AGAIN WITH THE DOT DOT DOTS!

If Mike was going to say I love you, that would have been the most anti-climactic love confession in the history of television. He doesn’t sound like he’s about to tell her something genuine from his heart. He sounds like he’s about to say something because he feels obligated to.

And then that leading to the monologue, where there is more stalling…

Mike had soooo many chances to say it, and if he was truly scared saying it would make losing her eventually ‘hurt more’ (words inspired by Will’s speech), then he could have said it any one of those previous instances and could have saved them and their relationship.

Instead he treats it like no man’s land, as if it’s this bad word that isn’t an option, until it’s quite literally the only option.

I think that while it is heartbreaking, it makes Mike a very complex character. While he did lie, it was a pretty selfless act, because he was breaking one of his most sacred rules, he was lying. He put it off for sooo long for a reason. He goes against how he truly feels in his heart, and that’s in large part why they lose .

Another factor to all of this, that makes me think this is very likely, is again the major theme of friends don’t lie. And how there is one scene from s1 in particular that offers up a really good Mike and El parallel we could get for them in s5, that I think would make this whole situation and the buildup to it, just sooooo fucking layered.

Imagine something similar to this conversation in s5, but switch Mike and El around:

Rewatching all the seasons in general opens up a lot of possibilities for brainstorming about potential callbacks we could see in s5. When it comes to the importance and impact of lying in the story, with s4 being filled with characters lying, there is just something so full circle about s4 opening with El’s letter filled with lies, Will’s veiled love confession filled with lies that his feelings are El’s and the season closing off with Mike lying to save the world and as a result failing.

And then in s5, kind of bringing together all of these lies, with the truth this time.

Having a parallel to this, with El calling Mike out, would finally give her the chance to voice to Mike, face to face, how she feels truly about everything, and having it be in a way that will sort of put Mike in his place, in a similar way he did to her, would be kind of insane.

Not only that, but in doing so, along with making byler canon by the end end of the series, this entire scene in s1 could be re-contextualized to something much more incredible than it was to viewers in their initial viewing.

After s5, this scene would never be the same:

[steddie-island]

Just Because We Get Around

Part one of Fuck His Dad. A fic based on this post.

Summary

Eddie pulled Dustin’s hands away from his ears and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Seriously, Dusty, I’m not gonna sleep with your dad. You have nothing to worry about.” ...Maybe Dustin had something to worry about.

Steve had been feeling it for a while now. He felt it in the creak of his joints when the weather changed too fast, felt it when he noticed a new silver streak in his hair. He was still in good shape, he wasn’t decrepit or anything like that. He still played ball with Lucas when he came over, he still swam a couple mornings a week, and coaching the girls JV basketball team meant he got some exercise running up and down the court with them. Still, sometimes he would just have a few days in a row where he felt it more than others, and it kind of got him down. 

Steve Harrington was getting old. He wasn’t nineteen anymore, he was forty-five now. He had a job, a 401k. He had a kid in college for Christ sake. 

Dustin was maybe the thing that made him feel the oldest, though. Not because of his age, but because he was always talking about some new game, new trends, using some new lingo. It drove Steve crazy . He tried to keep up, but it was hard when things seemed to change at the blink of an eye– and then he felt like even more of a fucking geezer for complaining about the speed of the way things changed, too. 

He was trying to listen to Dustin and his friend Eddie, who had been bouncing ideas off of each other for the better part of an hour for what they could do to get more attention on Eddie’s band online. The more they talked about tiktok trends and their social media presence, the more Steve felt in over his head. 

“You’re leaving, Mr. H?”

Steve turned around to look at Eddie and Dustin again. “Yeah, figured I’d go catch the end of the game.” “Oooh, you’re ditching us for sports ?” Eddie shook his head. “I’m insulted.” Steve rolled his eyes. “I think the two of you have this under control. You don’t need help from an old man.” “Old?” Eddie shook his head and looked at Dustin like Can you believe this guy? “Mr. H, you’re not old.” “I am, too,” he laughed. “Yeah, he is,” Dustin agreed. He made a face. “He’s my dad , of course he’s old. Now–” “No he’s not.” Eddie moved to rest his elbow on his knee, and he gestured towards Steve. “You’re not old, you’re still, like, hot. ” 

Steve’s face heated up while Dustin just gaped at his best friend. “Dude, what? Gross.”

“He is!” Eddie insisted. “Look at him!”

“I am! That’s my dad! ” 

Steve laughed again and moved to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I– you’re sweet, Eddie. Thanks.” He meant it, too. Eddie was probably just being nice, but it still felt… good. Especially coming from the pretty boy with the curls and the tattoos and eyes so deep that anyone would have a hard time not getting lost in them. 

He managed to not stare, but only just barely. This was his son’s best friend– one of them, anyway. Sure, Dustin hadn’t been friends with Eddie since he was a kid, like was the case with Will and Mike and Lucas, but still. He didn’t want to stand here thinking about how hot the guy was like an old creep. 

Eddie wasn’t the first guy Steve had noticed. There had been Tommy Hagan when he’d been in school, who was mean but had freckles that stood out when he laughed or when he was pissed. There had been Billy Hargrove– who was pretty but a complete fucking asshole, and Steve hadn’t given him a second look when he found out the kind of person Billy turned out to be. 

There were guys in college, too. A professor whose shirt sleeves had hugged his biceps, a teacher’s aide whose pants had hugged his ass in a way that had given Steve dreams that still made him flush to think about. 

He leaned back against the refrigerator, his eyes on the countertop. “I think if I was born in your generation that I might’ve been bisexual.”

Eddie and Dustin both stopped talking. Dustin was staring at him like he didn’t recognize the man in front of him, and there was something like curiosity in Eddie’s eyes. The boy gave him one of those crooked smiles. “Mr. H, it’s not too late,” he said. “You know that, right?”

“Not too late to be in your generation?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised. He was sure he was missing something, but he was only half processing the conversation. His mind was back on the teacher’s aide, on the team members he’d had crushes on and just hadn’t realized it yet. 

That crooked grin grew into a smirk. Those dark eyes raked over Steve, going from his head to his feet and then back up again. “I meant that it isn’t too late for you to be bisexual, but uh. Yeah, you could be in my generation if you wanted to be.”

Dustin smacked Eddie’s shoulder with the crown of his cap. “Dude, shut up !”

Steve nearly choked on his water. “I– yeah, I– thanks,” he said again. Dustin looked like he was ready to spontaneously combust where he sat, so Steve gave a wave, a rushed excuse, and he left them alone in the kitchen. 

Finish reading on ao3! 😘

[wsdanon]

Some notes, and then the fic will be under the cut

firstly: this is a fitpac fic centred around not getting married \o/

secondly: this will be on ao3 eventually, but the style makes me want to add at least one more scene? maybe more. i can't think of anything right now though and the second scene got away from me and i kind of just wanted to post it now. so tumblr only, and soon ao3

reblogs appreciated \o/ hope you enjoy \o/

Mike is thinking hard about something. But he’s keeping it carefully away from Pac which is never a good sign. 

“What kind of flowers do you want at your wedding?”

Pac abruptly comes to a stop. 

“Mike!” Pac pushes Mike and he stumbles a little, laughing. “I’m not getting married!”

“Yes you are. To Fit, right?”

“No! No, we’re—we’re not, okay?” Pac huffs. “I would, like—I’d think you’d understand it—since you’re aro, you know?”

Never mind that Mike is also married. It’s to a Goddess, so it’s a weird, complicated relationship, right? 

Not that Pac thinks his relationship with Fit is weird or complicated, but… it’s not what people would assume, is all. Lots of people assume marriage is the end game to a relationship like theirs. Pac doesn’t agree. He really doesn’t think marriage means all that much. 

Marriage is like… a false sense of security. He doesn’t need Fit to tell him they’ll be together forever because… well, sometimes things don’t work out. It’s nice to hear, but formalising it feels like bad luck. And next thing they know they’ll be leaving their kids at the orphanage because…

…Well, it doesn’t really matter why. 

He doesn’t think that will happen, at least. Even if they do split up. 

“Can you stop thinking? You’re so boring, Pac.” Mike rolls his eyes. “Marriage is about the party—about the fun, you know? Call each other whatever you want, I just want to be your best man, and organise a beautiful, perfect day to celebrate your relationship.”

“I don’t think Fit would like that.” 

“Ugh.” Mike groans and lets his head fall onto Pac’s shoulder. “So boring.” 

“Maybe you and Mine are happily married together, but we don’t need all that, okay?” Pac wraps his arms around Mike and hugs him close. Sways them from side to side. “Wanna help me plan Ramón’s adoption party instead?”

“Yes!” Mike pushes himself away, pulling out a notepad. “Do you think he’d like a chocolate fountain?” 

Pac is probably going to push back on a few of his ideas—he wants to be the primary organiser for this, after all. Ramón’s his son. 

But at least it’s distracted Mike for a little bit. 

——

“Does it, um… bother you?” Fit asks cryptically. 

And Pac waits a moment for him to clarify, but he doesn’t. 

“Does what?” 

Fit huffs. He turns on his side to face Pac, the mattress creaking slightly as he moves. 

They’re pretty good at hugging, Pac would say. And leaning on each other while sitting next to each other. But they haven’t quite made it to cuddling through the night yet. 

Personally, Pac doesn’t mind. From what little he’s gleaned about 2B2T, it’s a privilege that Fit even allows him to sleep in the same bed. 

He remembers when Fit had suggested it, nervous as anything and stumbling over his words. Pac himself hadn’t been much more composed—he had never even seen Fit’s bedroom beforehand, and now Fit’s allowing him nearby while at his most vulnerable. 

It’s a lot of trust. Pac feels giddy whenever he remembers it. 

Finally, Fit works up the courage to speak again. His eyes are drifting over Pac’s face, not quite ever making eye contact. 

“I mean… you know me Pac, I’m not, uh, good at these things.” He takes a steadying breath. “But… does it bother you that, uh—that I don’t want to get married?” 

“Of course not, Fit.” Pac lets his hand rest on top of Fit’s where it lays in between them on the bed. “I don’t, uh… Like, I don’t have a good view of marriage, either, you know? Like, I’m happy for Mike and Mine, but…” he shrugs, “it’s not for me, you know?” 

“Good, uh… that’s good.” Fit laughs nervously. “You’re too good to me, Pac.”

“What, because I don’t want to get married to you?” And Pac laughs, too. “You know, most people wouldn’t say that after hearing that from their boyfriend.”

Fit twists his hand to intertwine their fingers. The smile on his face is soft, and beautiful, and Pac wants to eat him alive. 

“Yeah, well…” Fit shrugs, and lets the words hang there. Pac knows what he means, anyway. And he agrees. 

He’s never been in a relationship like this before. And he thinks that’s good. They’re good for each other in a lot of ways. While him and Mike contrast each other—filling in what the other is missing, two halves making a whole—him and Fit complement each other. 

It’s nothing Pac’s ever had before, and it’s good. It’s nice. Pac doesn’t need any more than this. 

But Fit’s frowning again, and Pac shuffles closer. Stifles the urge to reach out and smooth away the creased lines between his brows. 

“And, uh… well, I’m sorry for… going so slow.” Fit squeezes his hand, and laughs—nervous again. “I mean, uh… we haven’t even, you know, kissed.” 

“Don’t say sorry for that!” Pac would, of course, love to kiss Fit. He’d love to do a lot more with Fit, as Mike loves to complain about when Pac doesn’t block their link properly. But… “I—I like you, uh… a lot, Fitche, you know? I don’t, like—I don’t need that. Ever, if you don’t want to.” 

“I…” Fit looks down to their entwined hands—resolutely not Pac’s face. “I do, I just… Sorry, I should be better at—at saying these things to you, at least—“

“If you say sorry one more time I’m going to smother you in your sleep.” Pac declares, delighting in the way Fit laughs, his body relaxing. 

“You’re too good to me, Pac.”

Fit’s grinning now. But there’s some lingering nervousness around the edges of his expression. 

“You’re—You’re better to me than, like… than a lot of people have been.” He confesses quietly. 

A lot of his relationships have burned like kindling—bright, but quickly extinguished without anything to latch onto. This is a nice change of pace. 

“I’m—Well, not glad, but—“

“It’s okay, I get it.” 

“You deserve good things, Pac.” Fit says—entirely seriously with no hint of a joke whatsoever. 

“You—You—“

And, really, Pac should‘ve been surprised his composure lasted this long. Warmth springs to life on his face, and he ducks under the covers as his tongue becomes unable to form words. 

He can hear Fit laughing. And he thinks if Mike wasn’t already asleep, he’d be laughing, too. 

Tentatively, Pac pokes his head out from underneath the covers. 

“And you—you, uh… you deserve, like, to not get married. If you don’t want to, you know?” 

“Thanks, Pac.” 

He’s so beautiful when he smiles like this—unrestrained, his face crinkling with it. Pac could stare at him forever. 

“Go—Go to sleep.” Pac huffs, drawing his hand away. “Before I—before you kill me.” 

“Okay, okay.” Fit laughs. “We wouldn’t want that, huh?”

“Yeah.” Pac nods, and deepens his voice. “I have to kill you.” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

Then Fit’s smile drops slightly—hesitation crawling onto his face as he reaches his hand out to grab Pac’s again. 

Pac hums happily, and pulls his hand up so he can press a kiss to it. 

The way Fit stares at him—something like awe in his expression—has Pac’s cheeks heating up again.

“Goodnight, Fit.” 

“Good—uh, boa noite.” Fit squeezes his hand. “Did I say that right?”

Pac loves him. Utterly, and completely. 

“Yes.” He smiles. “Boa noite.”

----

hope you guys enjoyed that \o/ fitpac's relationship development means a lot to me as an aroace person. and i know they aren't particularly going for an aspec interpretation, but the fact they haven't immediately jumped into typical romantic gestures after getting together like kissing means a lot to me \o/

[violetmuses]

Wounds - M. Lowrey ❤️‍🩹

Title: Wounds - M. Lowrey ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Mike Lowrey

Main Storyline: One assignment reveals the impossible for Detective Mike Lowrey. @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @amethyst-loves-bucky

=====

1997

One night, well-known Miami Detective Mike Lowrey found himself lurking between shadows of this darkened apartment hallway.

Tenants calmed down noises located in all directions, but Lowrey clicked one portable flashlight to seek his upcoming destination.

Number 27

Picking this lock, Mike carefully entered that apartment in question and gently closed the door behind him, still easing footsteps to navigate.

After switching lights to brighten and search each room, Mike quickly realized the vacancy of that space. In brief and short terms, no one is home.

Dammit! Lowrey thought.

“Captain, no one is home. I repeat: One Aretas Family location is empty.” Mike updated Captain Conrad Howard through his device.

The Aretas Cartel drifted through shadows like ghosts, horrific in many ways.

“Where's Armando, Mike?” Captain probed from the other line. No one else from the police department could help this plan.

“I have no clue.” Mike genuinely struggled with ideas right now. “Poor kid, didn't you tell me he was like two years old?”

“Yeah. He just turned two years old this year in March.” Captain Howard sighs for a moment.

“What's the move?” Mike only wanted to keep going if required.

“I'll pull more strings, but you still can't tell anybody, not even Marcus.” Cap just detailed further. “One wrong thing could expose our plan to help this kid.���

“Got it. I'll be back soon.” Mike faced reality and signaled out, leaving this apartment.

****

The following day, Mike locked through Captain Howard's office, briefed alone.

“Armando reached preschool this morning, but we don't even know who dropped him off.” Cap shook his head.

“Damn, we're stepping right through another maze.” Mike said. “Benito probably moved off-grid last night.”

“I need a favor.” Captain then struggled without raging. “When this school day ends, check the license plate for whoever picks Armando up. For all we know, Benito Aretas might line up strangers with his own kid.”

Hell no.

“All right. I'll go.” Mike agreed with the upcoming plan once more.

_______

Exchanging the classic Porsche for one nondescript vehicle, Mike Lowrey pulled his quiet stakeout near this Florida school

Timing locked 2:55 PM on his watch this afternoon.

Sunlight beamed all around as other cars entered this parking lot. Young children also squealed all from the building while teachers guided departure.

One ivory sedan arrived and this woman with long brunette hair left the driver's seat. Her side profile revealed earrings as she entered the school.

After quickly noting the license plate, Mike continued his observation just in case this plot turned wrong.

Wearing sunglasses, the brunette woman emerged from this building and carried preschooler Armando right on her hip.

Meanwhile, Armando is giggling, happy to be with this person.

Before Mike could investigate further, the brunette woman safely fastened Armando into his carseat and drove away, vanishing.

The license plate finally scored this absolute jackpot:

“Benito got married?” Mike reviewed details on Benito’s wife, Isabel Aretas.

“This changes everything, Mike.” Realization punched Captain Howard, too. “We gotta move Armando out. There's no other choice.”

“What are you talking about, Cap? Isabel is Armando's mother.” Mike couldn't understand separating the family members. “We're better off jailing Benito.”

“It's deeper than you think.” Captain slides extra paperwork across the desk.

“Hold up. What are you saying?” Mike seemed flabbergasted after learning more information.

Benito Aretas couldn't have children.

“Remember when I pulled you from our police academy?” Captain eased his words.

“My undercover assignment? Yeah.” Mike then nodded and remembered when he first crossed the Aretas Cartel.

“What's not clicking?” Captain pointed near the veins of his temple.

“Tell the truth before I walk out of here.” Mike lowered his voice and wanted Captain to speak up.

“You are Armando's father, Mike.” Captain finally offered this big-time moment.

Shit!

[messrsbyler]

i have a thought.

will finds mike’s letter.

in the middle of a battle we get mike “dying” and will using his powers to bring him back, but just like max it doesn’t work all the way. mike’s heart is beating, but he is still too weak to be taken out of life support. the party is in shambles, completely destroyed and torn apart, exactly the way henry was hoping for. he took their leader, their heart, and without heart it all falls apart.

and will? will is sitting right next to mike and no one can convince him to leave his side. because will remembers how mike was next to him when he was in a hospital bed, how mike spent the night there, how mike never gave up on him. and will isn’t going to give up on mike, ever. he wants to be there when mike wakes up, he needs to be there so mike knows will never left and so will can… apologise. apologise for not being fast enough, or powerful enough. because even though mike was there whenever will needed him, even if he was far away in a different dimension, will couldn’t be there for mike. not in time. not when it mattered the most.

the party has to bring him food to the hospital room and blankets and pillows because will simply won’t budge and won’t move. but the thing is… they need to keep going, they need to regroup and recover from their lost battle and now that mike is… not there, no one really knows who is supposed to step up and make the call.

it’s lucas who one day walks into mike’s hospital room and sits next to will. and will knows why they sent lucas of all people to try to convince him to keep going. because lucas out of all people understands, he knows the pain will feels, the desperation and the guilt that comes each time a part of hope crumbles under the weight of reality. but they also send lucas because he is the right choice, because now that mike is like this, they all know the one to step up needs to be lucas. lucas, who has always been mike’s right hand, the second in command that now climbs to be their leader, even if he is struggling with his own demons and fears.

“don’t let his sacrifice go to waste, will. mike… he knew what he was doing. he gave us a chance, now let’s make the best out of it. together.”

and lucas is right. he is right but, fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. will doesn’t want to leave his side. what if mike wakes up and no one is there. what if he sees he’s all alone and thinks no one cares to stay. that will didn’t care to stay. but lucas is right. they need to keep moving, they need to seize the chance mike’s sacrifice gave them and end this once and for all. so will agrees to go with the party and plan their next step.

a journey into the suburbs of hawkins to gather whatever supply they can get their hands on is their next move. they tell will he’s needed in this mission, though will can see it in their eyes, how they are worried about him and how this is a first baby step to put will’s mind to rest and get him the air he needs before they move onto the particular nasty stage of stoping doomsday from coming. so will gears up with his group and leaves to complete his mission.

what they didn’t calculate was the detour they had to take in the middle of scavenging some abandoned houses that leads them to a very familiar neighbourhood. somehow, will finds himself escaping from monsters once more and finding his way to the old wheelers’ house.

he hesitates a second, feeling his heart sink and his blood freeze when he sees the way the house is holding up to the end of the world. it’s only the ghost of what it used to be, but will doesn’t have time to worry about ghosts and the past, he needs to hide and fast so he can radio his friends and make sure everyone made it to a good shelter in time. so will clenches his jaw and rushes into the house. he bites his lip until he tastes copper in the tip of his tongue, quickly inspecting the other entrances to the house to make sure they are all locked. once he deems the place safe, he can’t help to wander around.

it’s an odd feeling in his gut, like a knot that’s about to breaks loose. there’s still some of the wheeler’s here, bleeding from the walls and clogging the toxic air. there’s pictures with broken glass and furniture under layers of dust and spores. the floor creaks under will’s weight, making the silence louder in will’s ears. this place where he spent most of his childhood, seeing it like this… so… broken- so fractured… it stirs an old ache in will’s heart, a bleeding wound he somehow forgot about but that not for that healed itself closed.

still, will keeps moving and his steps guide him to the basement. will bites back a sob when he sees the state of it. will hasn’t been the first person to walk here. other survivors, other groups of hungry and sick people have put their hands here, searching for supplies and caring little to keep things the way they found them.

the couch is turned and kicked to the wall, the tv screen is cracked, the windows are dusty and gray, only letting a few slits of the sun in, tainting the room in a shade of red that sends chills down will’s back. will steps deeper inside the room and sees the drawers of a nearby old desk were ripped open and left on the floor probably in a hurry. will sighs and gives into the stupid need to fix this place, his place, where he once revealed he thought he was going crazy. maybe he was going crazy right now, too.

kneeling on the floor, will starts picking up things and filling the drawers which then he wrestles back into the rails. when he is picking up the second one, that’s when will sees the envelop laying on the floor, an envelope that wasn’t sealed closed, with a letter peeking from one side and will’s name written on the back. will frowns and with trembling fingers he picks it up, turning it in his hands. his heart leaps when he recognises mike’s handwriting and his stomach tightens when he understands what this is.

a letter. for will.

mike wrote him a letter. but… why didn’t he ever send it?

with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, will slides the folded paper out and unfolds it.

as his eyes move through the lines, will’s vision blurs by the tears that slide freely down his cheeks and fall onto the paper. something warm pools in will’s chest and it spreads all over his body, like a warm blanket that’s all mike, mike, mike.

the letter is everything will could wish for and more, so beautiful and so painful, and so so unfair. why didn’t mike send it? why did will have to find it like this? why did he have to learn about mike’s feelings right now, when mike was still fighting for his life back at their headquarters? why did they keep chasing after the other and running out of time? god, please. please, let them not have ran out of time. not now.

not when will is holding mike’s letter. not when his heart is beating so loudly in his ears and he feels more alive than ever. not when will’s eyes can’t stop reading that one last line at the end of the paper, the one that reads:

love, mike.

[starkstruck27]

Day 6 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!! This was another one that took me forever to write, but I finally finished and I'm so excited to share!! Prompt: NSFW - Overstimulation Title: Won't You Help me Cure this Overload Word Count: 3564 words TWs: Overstimulation, Panic attacks

It was Thursday night at the Hideout, the first Thursday of summer vacation, and somehow, Dustin had talked Steve into giving him and the other kids a ride to come out and see Eddie Munson play with his band. The club was in Chicago, but the four boys were going into their sophomore year next year, and it was summer, after all, so their parents had all given the O.K. on them going to the show, as long as Steve stayed with them. They were going to spend the night in one of his dad’s condos, and then after breakfast and a bit of shopping, they’d come home on Friday afternoon. At least, that was the plan.

But now they were in the club, and Steve was severely regretting agreeing to bring the kids out here alone. There were so many people packed into the tiny room, and it was hot, and the music was too loud, and everything was too fast and it smelled like weed and he already had a headache, and if he didn’t get out of that room right then, he felt like he’d have a meltdown.

“Guys, guys, we gotta go for a minute,” he shouted over the music. Eddie’s band wasn’t on yet, it was a different band that was playing, so he figured the kids wouldn’t mind stepping outside with him for a minute so he could calm down in preparation for the main event.

“Where are we going?” Mike asked, he and the other three looking at Steve like he was nuts.

“Just… outside. Come on, hold onto each other so I don’t lose any of you,” Steve said, panic creeping up his spine as someone bumped into him, and he had to fight to keep it inside.

“But these guys are great! I don’t want to leave now! Besides, we still gotta muscle our way up front for when Eddie comes on!” Dustin complained, and Steve had to look away for a second so he didn’t strangle him. He loved Dustin, he loved all four of these knuckleheads, but right now, he was having trouble breathing on his own, and he needed to take a second to remind himself that it wasn’t their fault he was getting overwhelmed. 

“We still have plenty of time for that, but we need to go outside, right now! Come on!” Steve said, but as he started walking, none of the kids followed. “C’mon, guys, chop chop!”

“We don’t want to lose our spot! You go outside and we’ll stay here. We promise to stay together!” Lucas said, the other three agreeing, and at this point, Steve had had it. Against his better judgment, he threw his hands in the air and walked away, heading for the door.

Only problem was, in the time they’d been there, the crowd had nearly doubled in size, and in the dark, smoke-filled club, Steve could hardly tell which way was up, let alone which way led to the exit. He was caught in the sea of people, and as another song started, the panic started gripping him at full force. His vision went blurry, and the next thing he knew, he was starting to push people out of the way trying to get out. This only made things worse, because then people thought he was just doing it to have fun and mosh with the music, and they started doing it back, until he was at the center of a full fledged mosh pit with no way out. 

Finally, it all became too much, and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He began to cry as he fell to the floor, curled up in a ball and tried to cover his ears, doing what he could to shut everything out and hoped it would be over soon. It didn’t end, though, it seemed to go on forever, until he felt a gentle hand on his own, and it pried it away from his ear long enough for someone to shout, “Hold onto me, I’m gonna get you outta here!”

Steve didn’t know who it was that was talking to him, nor did he know if he should really be following this guy, but at that point, he’d do anything to get out of that club, so he did as he was told and clung to the guy as he led him through the crowd, shoving his way through if necessary until they were outside in the cool, fresh night air.

“There we go, sit down here,” the guy instructed once they were outside, guiding Steve to sit down on the curb and placing a hand on his back. “That’s it, just breathe. Take your time, you’ll be alright.”

Steve did as instructed and took a few deep breaths, calming himself down enough to open his eyes and look around. There were no more people, no more smoke, just the open air of the street and the muffled sound of music coming from the club. 

“There you go,” the guy next to him said, smiling nicely as he patted Steve's back. “Would you like some water?”

“S-sure, thanks,” Steve replied, looking over at the guy and managing a tiny smile. 

“Don't mention it,” the guy said as he reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a small bottle of water, handing it to Steve and waiting for him to drink. “Number one rule of concerts, if you can smuggle in water, do it. Otherwise the venue will charge you through the nose for it.”

“I never would've thought of that. I never really go to concerts, though, I'm only here because-” Steve cut himself off, standing up in a whole new panic as he realized he left the kids inside by themselves. “Holy shit, thank you for everything, but I gotta get back in there!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, you're not gonna miss anything, you gotta chill first,” the guy said, standing up and blocking Steve's path.

“No, you don't understand, I'm supposed to be chaperoning a bunch of kids and I just left them in there!” Steve tried to get past the guy, but he wouldn't budge.

“No, I know, but if you aren't calmed down first you're not gonna be much use to them. And anyway, they're safe, believe me,” the guy said, looking Steve in the eye and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “My friends and I were standing behind you guys and we saw you starting to panic, so I told my friends to keep an eye on your friends so I could help you when I saw you get stuck in that pit. And my little sister is here, too, she's about their age, and I trust my friends to keep an eye on her, so they'll be fine, trust me.”

“But I was supposed to look after them and no offense, but I don't even know your name! I gotta get back to them,” Steve tried, but the guy held his ground.

“My name's Billy. My friend's names are Sid and Wayne, and my sister's name is Max. We saw you having a hard time in there, so we agreed to help you if you needed it, and you did, so we're helping you. Now look, I'm not trying to keep you from your friends, but if you're gonna go back in there, you can't do it panicked or else you'll just end up on the floor again, so here,” the guy, Billy, said, reaching into another pocket and pulling out a few things. 

“What are these?” Steve asked, taking the little orange nubs from Billy. 

“Earplugs. They'll muffle the sound a bit so it's not so loud, but you'll still be able to hear. And here, take a couple of these,” he said, pulling out a small bottle of ibuprofen. “Perks of traveling with a younger sister, you always remember to carry ibuprofen, just in case.”

Steve thanked him and downed the pills, already starting to feel better as he took a deep breath and tested out the earplugs. They helped to muffle the sound, just like Billy’d said, but they also made him hear himself more, so his breathing was easier to regulate and he could actually hear himself think now. 

“How do you like them?” He could hear Billy raising his voice so that he could hear him.

“They’re great, thank you,” Steve said at a normal volume, taking them out again so that nobody had to keep shouting.

“My pleasure,” Billy said, smiling kindly as he sat down on the curb again and pulled Steve down to sit beside him. “So, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Steve said, putting the earplugs in his pocket for safekeeping.

“If you get overstimulated at concerts, why’d you come to one?”

“I told you, a bunch of kids I used to babysit wanted to come, so I said I’d chaperone,” Steve replied, shrugging.

“Why didn’t you just tell them to get someone else? Or say they were out of luck and they could catch the next one?”

“Well, I was going to, but they really wanted to come and see their friend play. And I didn’t think it’d affect me this much, so I caved. And I guess none of their parents wanted to come and then drive two hours back home when they have to work the next day, either, so since my dad has a condo out here where we could stay for the night, things just seemed all too perfect.”

“Hey, two hours is better than two days,” Billy chuckled.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that at least you’re close enough to Chicago that you could go home tonight if you wanted to. We’re from California, so we’d have to either take a plane or drive for two to three days to get back home. Not that I’m in a big rush to get home, anyway, but at least you have the option.”

“I guess,” Steve said, “What are you doing out here though, if I may ask?”

“I’m looking at colleges, I’m taking a gap year, but then I’m gonna go next year. Sid and Wayne wanted to come with me, and Max of course had to join, too, and so we packed up and came on a road trip. While we were touring one of the campuses today, we saw a flier for the concert tonight, and we decided to come. I’m glad we did, too. Now I can tack an extra day onto the trip and I won’t have to rush home in the next couple of days.”

“That sounds like fun. Any colleges stick out to you?”

“None right now, but that’s just the indecisive part of me not wanting to have to pick,” Billy said. “What about you? Are you doing any type of college?”

“Nah, I went straight into working once I got out of high school. I don’t think college is really for me, anyway. Too much pressure that I just don’t need right now.”

“I get that. I’m already under pressure, that’s why I want to go to college, to get away from it. Hopefully it ends up as rosy as the picture I have in my head when it actually becomes a reality.”

“I’m sure it will. You’re a nice guy and you seem to be prepared for anything, so it should be a breeze for you,” Steve said, smiling.

“Thanks. I hope you’re right,” Billy replied, grinning back.

The two sat outside and talked for a while longer, telling each other about themselves and getting to know each other in a conversation that was as easy as if it were being shared by two old friends. They got so wrapped up in their discussion that Steve completely forgot why he was even anxious in the first place, and he hardly noticed it when the ground stopped shaking from the music inside the club.

“I think the opener just finished,” Billy said as the conversation hit a lull, “It usually takes a while for the next band to set up after that, so do you want to go inside and check on your friends?”

“Oh shit, I’m a horrible babysitter,” Steve said, “I completely forgot they were in there by themselves! Yeah, I need to go make sure they’re okay, fuck.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, they’ll be just fine, I promise you. Oh, and if you want you can put those earplugs in before we go inside. It’ll still be kinda noisy in there and we wouldn’t want you to get overwhelmed again. We’ll all probably have to shout to talk, anyway. And I can kinda guide you so that you don’t get lost.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Steve said, blushing a little as he put the earplugs back in. Billy waited until he had them the way he wanted and then took his hand, guiding him over to the door and back through all the crowds of people until they got to where their friends were. Steve let out a sigh of relief when he saw that all four boys were still right where he left them, no broken bones or black eyes to be seen. What he did see, though, was the boys talking with a girl their age with bright red hair and black makeup covering most of her face. She had a safety pin stuck in her ear and a black shirt on that seemed way too big for her, but it was tied in a knot behind her back. The boys were chatting away with her like there was no tomorrow, and from the fact that Dustin had his notebook out (he never went anywhere without it), they had all just exchanged numbers so that they could talk again later.

“That’s my sister, Max,” Billy said loudly to Steve as they walked over, “And the two guys behind them are Sid and Wayne, my two best friends.”

“They seem cool,” Steve said, suddenly feeling a little self conscious as he approached the group. When he saw the boys getting all dressed up in their black clothes and edgy makeup, he figured they wouldn’t be the only ones, but there would be some normally dressed people here, too, so he only wore a black t-shirt and jeans. Now he kinda regretted that decision as he walked over to Billy’s friends, who were more decked out than anybody and seemed to be fitting in better, too. Who knew that a bunch of nerds would be able to make Steve Harrington feel insecure?

He didn’t need to, though, because as soon as he and Billy walked up to the group, the boys were all over him, hugging him and saying they were glad he was okay before introducing him to Max. She gave him a firm look up and down before shrugging, which seemed like the best he was gonna get from her, and he took it gracefully. Then Billy introduced him to his friends, and they seemed a lot more friendly than Max, smiling and engaging in a nice conversation with him and the rest of the group as they waited for the next band to come on.

As Corroded Coffin took to the stage to tune up before starting, the boys and Max insisted on getting as close as possible, and they began to shove their way up front much to Steve’s dismay. He really didn’t want them to get hurt or anything, and he also didn’t really want to go up there with them, but he felt like he didn’t have a choice. He sighed and was about to follow them up, but Billy grabbed his arm and pulled him back, nodding for Steve to follow him.

“Sid and Wayne are going with them, they’ll be fine,” he said, seeming to read his mind, “But I can tell you’re still nervous so come on.”

“Where are we going?” Steve asked, still following anyway.

“There’s a few tables pushed up against the wall in the back. If you sit on one, you’ll be able to see the whole club, so you can keep an eye on the boys while also staying out of the mosh pits.”

“Am I allowed to do that?”

“Probably not, but I’m not going to tell on you.”

Billy helped Steve up onto one of those high tables that bars always have, and he was right, from up here, he could see the entire club, including where the crowd met the stage, and that’s where the boys were. He sighed in the closest thing he could feel right now to relief, and was about to thank Billy again, but by the time he turned to say it, the first loud chords to a song rang out, and he never got the chance. Still, Billy looked up at him and smiled, and he was sure he got the message.

They spent the whole rest of the concert together at the back of the club, Steve keeping an eye on the boys and Billy just enjoying the music. At one point, Steve tried to encourage Billy to go and do his own thing, he felt bad that he was staying with him all night when he should’ve been able to have fun, but Billy pretended not to hear him, and he stayed where he was until the show was over. 

When it was, Billy helped Steve down from the table, and they met the rest of their group halfway as they made their way back, the boys and Max unable to stop talking about how good the show was, and Sid and Wayne having to practically drag them along. The club was starting to clear out, so Steve was able to breathe a bit easier, especially when they started making their way outside, and once they were out in the open air, he got the first good deep breath he’d had all night.

“Thank you again,” Steve said to Billy as they leaned up against the wall of the club. The kids were still talking, and they knew they weren’t getting out of there anytime soon with the way traffic was gonna be, so they settled against the wall to share a smoke while they waited.

“If you thank me one more time, I’m never going to speak to you again,” Billy smiled as he flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette.

“Well, considering we only just met tonight and you live halfway across the country, I doubt we’ll be talking much after tonight, anyway,” Steve shrugged, surprised by how much his own words saddened him.

“That might’ve been true, if I didn’t plan on giving you my number and asking you for yours. But if you try to thank me again, I’m not gonna do it out of spite.”

“You want my number?” Steve asked, staring at him. “Why?”

“Because you’re a nice person and I feel like I made a potentially really good friend tonight, and I don’t want to never speak to you again,” Billy turned and smiled. “Besides, I have a feeling that I might be moving a lot closer to here within the next year or so, and it’ll be nice to have a friend so close when the rest of my friends will be back home.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

“That’s what I’d like us to be. And friends give each other their numbers all the time.”

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Steve said. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

He walked over to where the kids were, taking Dustin aside and borrowing his notepad and pen. He scribbled down his number and tore the page out, telling the boys to start saying goodbye to their friend, they were gonna have to leave soon. They all groaned, but did as they were told, and Steve made his way back over to Billy with the paper in his hand.

“We have to get going soon, but here,” he said, handing Billy the paper. “We’ll be back home by tomorrow afternoon, so feel free to call whenever after that.”

“I will,” Billy smiled, then tore the paper in half and pulled out a pen of his own. “I don’t know when we’ll be home, but I’ll call you when we are, and then you can call me whenever, too.” He handed the torn paper he’d scribbled on back to Steve, who folded it neatly and put it safely in his pocket. 

“I will,” Steve patted his pocket, then looked over to the kids again. “I should probably get going. It was really nice to meet you, Billy.”

“Same here, Steve. I’ll talk to you later,” Billy said, waving as Steve walked away.

It took him a few minutes to wrangle the boys over to his car, but when he finally did, they said goodbye to Max and she, Sid and Wayne walked back to where Billy was, the four of them watching Steve drive away.

“So, did you manage to get his number?” Sid asked, a laugh hidden in his voice as Wayne and Max made kissy faces at him.

“Shut up or I’m leaving you all here,” Billy blushed, but he smiled. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”

[castlebyersafterdark]

I'm not trying to be mean when I say this, but there are a lot of comments in this fandom that make it very clear the average age of this active fandom right now is about 15, or people with the life experience of 15 year olds. I'm sorry but if Mike is moving El's hands off him and stopping her from kissing him, it's not about duality. It's about him not being interested in kissing her. And the song in the background gave him an excuse to not do the thing that was making him uncomfortable. If you have ever made out with someone before and they keep trying to move your hands and stop you from kissing them, they don't want to be making out with you. Mike wasn't just so into the song he had to sing it right then and there. A hormonal teenage boy would be trying to make out with his girlfriend if he was actually interested in her regardless of what song was playing on the radio. He does not have to sing in that moment. Not to mention how he avoids kissing her in every other scene. Mike pushing El away from him at the airport when she tries to kiss him was the biggest tip off to me that he was gay and wanted to break up with her. And him saying "who said I didn't love you" is also an excuse. We all know he doesn't through his actions and so does El. It's why she acts like that during their fight. She knows he doesn't. But he was thrown off during their fight and was trying to stall. It's what people do when they aren't sure what to say but they are uncomfortable fighting. For the record, El doesn't love Mike either and never showed it and I hope this gets addressed later. But I think this fandom has a huge blind spot when it comes to El and they project themselves onto her a lot. So they think it's mean if Mike was just not into making out with her. You either want to kiss someone or you don't. And he clearly doesn't. It's not mean to not love El. But people go looking for excuses about why he has to have loved her at some point because they think it's about them. I think some people need more relationship experience before they start analyzing the relationships on this show.

Yeah, I do agree a little more with this assessment! I always like hearing everyone's analysis and opinion, but I do also have my own ideas.

I agree about the make out / song thing. The "duality" I prefer is more for several different reasons in that scene. First, we get yet another glimpse into Mike's goofy personality. It shows he and El have nothing in common. She really doesn't find him cute there. He's so charming and adorable when he was singing! Girl wasn't into it. Strike one for incompatibility as people. The other reason for the scene shows incompatibility as romantic partners. Their kissing is odd. The distance. Moving her hands. It's a pattern. So, there is a duality. Just not those other reasons. If he was sooo into her, it would have been framed a lot differently. The rest of the show. After a certain point, all intimacy between them vanishes. It becomes a theme, the overcompensation vs. avoidance.

But, I don't necessarily think one hundred percent the stopping to sing is only a lack of attraction because I could honestly see it with Will and it would be really cute. Even desperately attracted and into each other. It shows Mike's dorky side. Which I don't think El actually likes. Will does. Will would giggle and sing with him and he'd kiss him mid-line and Mike would use his hold on Will's hands to bring him closer as he laughs along to the song before they return to making out. They have the combination of best friendship and romantic partners. Mike and El have neither and they're trying and it doesn't work. Its not healthy, because it's forced. They need something else with each other.

Fandom has a MASSIVE blind spot with El - it's not a slight to El if Mike's gay! It's not mean to not love her like that. He obviously loves and cares for her, but it's about figuring out the differences in his emotions and motivations and truths.