#toccoa

[iceman-kazansky]

4 times Donald Malarkey Wanted to kiss you , the one time he did.

Pairings: Donald Malarkey x f!reader

Requested by: none, just an idea I had :)

Warnings: Bastogne, Mentions of depression, character death, Donald being flustered, uhh tons of switches of POV's but just read it and be happy.

A/n: reallllyyy didn't like this. I mean, I like the Toccoa part (#1) but I felt like it gradually decreased in quality as it went on. Also, my first ever band of brothers fic so be weary.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

1. Close call in Toccoa

Malarkey, shamefully, had noticed how much his thoughts were about you. He found you occupying his mind about anything and everything. Something you said yesterday, your smile when Luz had mocked Coronel sink, your eyes and how they shined in the dark moonlight during the notorious night march, your hands when you'd accidentally brushed your knuckles against his during breakfast this morning.

All the little things nobody else would care to notice Malarky cherished like it was religion. Of course, Malarkey's best friends, Muck and Penkala, had caught wind of his obsession when he spoke just a little too much of the woman within the company.

They teased him for it, as all friends do when they learn their best bud is crushing a little too hard on a girl.

Sitting in the cafeteria, Malarkey was subject to that teasing. "Whatcha dreaming about larkey'?" Warren asked, a cheeky smile stretched across his face.

"You already know it's Y/n, so why'd you ask?" Alex was quick to respond, Warren nodding in fake thoughtfulness.

"I imagine Malarky sits and dreams all about kissing Y/n. I saw him staring at her yesterday. Ain't that right Malarky? What were you thinking about then?" Warren's smile grows even larger and he puckers his lips, "mhmm" He groans with a mock high-pitch voice, "y/n, Please kiss me! You're so pretty! I really, really love you y'know!"

The ginger flushes red from embarrassment, Although, Donald won't lie to himself, he does think of the softness of your lips more than he'd like to admit… but that wasn't the point. He thinks to himself while he swats his friend harshly from across the table, trying to shut him up before the whole company learns his secret. "Can it, will you?" He whisper-yells, kicking Warren in the shins full force to which causes the blond haired boy to exclaim in agony.

"It's true! I swear, you probably think about kissing her–" Warren is cut off by a very familiar voice and Malarkey's stomach drops in fear.

"Who's thinking about kissing who?" You say, plopping down in the seat next to Malarky innocently, while the poor ginger turns as red in the face as his hair on his head.

Theres a few beats of stunned, awkward silence before finally Alex answers "Malarky thinks about kissing-" Donald shoots him a warning glare and a hard nudge of his foot, "-Margaret. Yeah, a girl back home whom he knew. A real broad, that one."

Malarkey doesn't notice the way your face falls at the mention of someone at home, "Y-yeah" He stutters out. "Margaret. Real pretty." Or the way you go silent and your shoulders slump.

"Sounds real nice." You half mumble while you shovel a spoon of oatmeal in your mouth.

Muck and Penkala glance at each other with looks that say 'oh fuck' while everyone resumes eating breakfast in an awkward silence.

Oh fuck was right.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

2. Thunder and flash

Malarkey hit the ground with a thud, his white parachute settling on the ground behind him while he worked on cutting himself free and condensing the fabric into a tight roll.

It was dark, with sounds of gunfire in the distance. A rustle in the bushes caused Malarkey's head to snap in that direction. "Thunder?" He called out hesitantly, cautious not to be too loud.

The bush moved, followed by "flash" in response and a silhouette stepped out.

With the limited lighting Malarkey was squinting to see who he had reunited with. Was it Liebgott? Toye? Winters? Was it you?

It didn't take long to get an answer when the person made themselves known, stepping into a thick beam of moonlight, face illuminated by the white light.

Malarkey was beyond relieved. He had found you. Even better, still alive and breathing. He doesn’t know what he would've done had it been your body, strung up in the branches of a tree.

"You're alive." He all but whispered.

"What'd you think was gonna happen? Really thought the Krauts got the better of me?" You chuckle, a warm smile on your face, "Have a little faith, will you?"

Oh how he wanted to cup your cheeks and kiss you.

Malarkey wanted to reach forwards, grab your face with his hands, and plant his lips on yours. He wanted to show you how worried he was. How sickeningly scared he had been that you were dead before he'd even jumped from the plane.

There is a silence while you move to embrace each other, eyes staring into one another's in an emotion you both can't quite name, something you'll find out later when feelings unravel themselves.

Malarkey doesn't notice the way you both subconsciously had begun leaning into each other, faces inching closer. A thought flashed across Malarkey's mind. He could kiss you. He could ruin his friendship.

Little did he know, none of that would need to be decided as A voice calls from the bushes "Thunder?" immediately met with you calling out a quick 'flash!' And pulling away.

Begrudgingly, Malarkey realizes he must find easy company, there's no time to sulk, he finishes packing his parachute into a tight ball and stands to join you and the new soldier they joined with.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

3. Drunken confession in the times after Carentan

The bar was deafening and unorderly. Soldiers of all ranks and ages were drinking, a golden yellow ale were being thrust into the air in cheer over the recent win in Carentan.

Malarkey and his best friends, Warren Muck and Alex Penkala were seated in a small booth towards the back of the bar with each of them having an ale on the table.

Malarkey excuses himself, going to grab another drink, he blows a sigh through his lips and begins pushing himself through the mass of people and to the bar.

When he finally got to the counter, two bartenders were rushing between calls for another beer. He was going to be here for awhile.

While standing patiently waiting for a drink, a figure approaches. Malarkey recognizes it as Lieutenant Winters and immediately is straightening himself out when he approaches. "Sir?" He questions when the red-headed lieutenant stops in front of him.

"Malarkey. I think it'd be best for sergeant Y/n to be off for the night. Except, she won't listen to me."

Donald smiles at the Lieutenant, peeking over his shoulder in the direction he came, sure enough seeing a drunken you, half asleep and nearly falling off your chair. "Will do, lieutenant."

"Have a good evening, Malarkey." And with that the man was off.

Making his way over to you, the ginger tapped you on the shoulder gently, prompting a grunt in response. "C'mon y/n, we gotta get you to bed."

Attempting to stand you nearly topple over, Malarkey's hand reaching out to grip your forearm, a giggle escaping your drunken lips. After stumbling out into the warm summer air and across camp, Malarkey had you nearly in bed and was ready to leave you to your own.

He draws in a deep breath and leans down hesitantly. Malarkey places his lips lightly on your cheek for a moment, hunched over your half-asleep form.

Moments pass where you stay like that before he whispers a soft "good night" and exits the room promptly.

when he leaves he can feel the giddiness running through his veins, a smile pulling itself onto his lips.

Oh god he was in for it.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

4. Bastogne; frozen hell

Malarkey wasn’t sure what to do anymore. There was a dull ache that filled his chest, a sensation that he could only describe as a leech sucking the life straight from the organ that pumped blood throughout his body. He was a man stranded on an island, unable to get off.

Muck was gone. Penkala was gone too. Gone as in, He’d never talk to them again. Bodies blown into oblivion by a direct hit of a mortar. If he’d known the last words he had spoken to them would've been so soon, he would have told them a whole lot more. Told them how good of friends they had become and how dear they had become to him. But he'd never get that chance because they had been taken from him all too soon. Like a bandaid being pulled off a fresh wound, much to early to fend off the infectious depression threatening to poison him from the brain. Kill him with his own emotions.

Oh god, he wanted to break down. He wanted to be held in the arms of the person he loved. Wanted to cry so hard all his worries went away. But Malarkey wasn’t supposed to do that; wasn't allowed for he was a man in a time of war.

Malarkey was perched on the edge of the cot he was assigned, elbows resting on tired knees and supporting his head while he stared meaninglessly at the floor. His eyes traced over the brown cracks etched into worn floorboards, following each individual splinter and fissure, curious to where they ended up.

“Malarkey?”

He knew it was you, in the back of his mind your voice clicked, but he didn’t have it in himself to look up or respond in fear he would break down. He didn’t want to seem so vulnerable in front of you.

“Don?”

Malarkey could feel a piece of his cold, lifeless gaze peel away with the soft mention of his name, the syllables falling delicately from your perfect mouth. And when he looked up, his crestfallen gaze meeting your concerned one, he felt the strong want to cry. The emotion must've crossed his face more prominently than he’d have liked, as something flashed in your gaze and immediately you were ready to comfort the grief-stricken man.

“Oh, Malarkey.” You say, breath no louder than a whisper, immediately seating yourself beside him on the bed and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the most delicate hug he’s ever had.

He finds it comforting how it reminds him of his mother back home. How she used to wrap him up in her arms and whisper sweet nothings into his ear when he would cry. Malarkey thinks about a lot of things while lying in your arms. He thinks about Muck, teasing him about something stupid he had done while Alex laughs from the side, adding on to the playful mocking they induce. He thinks about home, about his brothers John and Bob and his sister, Marilyn, or his mother and father, how they were all waiting patiently for his return to the states.

“I’m so so sorry.” You mumble into his hair, rocking the boy gently, “I know how much they meant to you.”

Malarkey doesn’t respond, he just cries silently into the comfort of your shoulder. He weeps onto your clothed arm, snot and wet tears soaking into the worn green fabric of your tunic– not like you mind.

When he feels like he's had enough, he's pulling away, red eyes puffy with tears and staring at you. "Thanks." It's quiet, such a low whisper before Malarkey is pulling away and standing up, leaving the tent.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

5. A broad named Margaret

Malarkey was done with war, done with the horrors forever etched into the fabrics of his very brain, done with firing a hot round of smoking gunpowder and bronze metal into a German's body and watching them fall to the ground.

He never thought he could have been happier when he received the news that the last of the German army surrendered.

The first thing he did was go looking for you, asking his fellow easy company boys if they'd seen you. After many, 'I Don't know, sir,' Liebgott was his savior and pointed out you were in a building just across the street.

Malarkey, bursting with joy, raced across the street and into the house, nearly running into you as he threw open the door.

He didn't even think, he just grabbed you and kissed you out of glee. He pulled away shortly after, barely recognizing the fact he probably ruined a good friendship out of his own moments of joy, and you looked like you were about to short circuit, pure surprise painting your face, "The Germans surrendered, the war's over!"

Malarkey is smiling down at you when your fist grab his collar harshly and yank him back down into a kiss.

He blinks in surprise, taken aback by your boldness, before melting into the kiss.

Yours and his lips move in sync, the world muted around the both of you, and the only sound was the beat of your hearts. The kiss was sweet as honey, soft and gentle, but full of love and affection. The taste of his lips lingered on yours, like a memory etched in your soul that you would never forget.

"Im sorry-" you splutter out shortly after.

"Sorry? About what?" Malarkey asks, a look of shock melting into his features.

"About Margaret– you love her, not me, and I just ruined that.. oh my God you probably hate me right now! Im just–"

Malarkey smiles and crashes his lips onto yours to silence your rambling, "You don't know how long I've wanted that." He whispers when he pulls away and leans his forehead against yours.

"B-but Margaret?"

"Oh silly," He chuckles, "Margaret was never real. We were talking about you."

"You were… thinking about kissing me?" A look of confusion paints your face while Malarkey laughs.

"Yes, sweetheart." He says before kissing you again.

If Malarkey thought he was happy about the end of the war, boy was he wrong. This made his whole life a greater place that he'd describe as a sunny meadow with white clouds scuttling across a vast blue sky and a colorful array of daisies and red eyed-susan's that blow gently in a breeze tainted with a smell of salt that wafts from the nearby ocean. That was his dream. To live there, in that place, with you. Luckily for him, the war was over, and you were both going home, together.

[dontirrigateme]

The view from the top of Currahee

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Band of Brothers Appreciation Week- Day 1

So for day one I choose two prompts because I couldn’t decide on just one so I have chosen Scenery and Training.

For ‘Scenery’ I have tried to include a scene from every episode and it’s just made me fall in love again with how cinematic and incredible y produced this show is.

And here is my ‘Training’ moodboard mainly based around Camp Toccoa which happens to be one of my favourite episodes.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @puckpuckett @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @hbowardaily @shadowsintheknight @callsign-phoenix @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @doc-eugene-roe @not-havingthetimeofmylife @floralfloyd

[todieforimages]

Lone Oak Motel in Toccoa, Georgia was the Final Home of R&B singer Dee Clark

The Lone Oak Motel is an abandoned motel outside of Toccoa, Georgia. Built in 1941, it seems to have been in use until 1921. Tax records indicate it was sold in 2024, so its future is unknown. It could be restored, demolished, or continue to languish. When I researched the motel’s history, I found out it was the final home of the singer Delecta “Dee” Clark (1938-1990), who sang the 1961 hit…

[incognito-princess]

Look what popped up in my social studies lesson today!!!

Copyrights: McGrawHill

[esmeraldawhitlock]

[evidenceof]

Pictured: A very topless (and fully clothed) Dick Winters doing jump training in Toccoa (Image Source: Major Dick Winters Files: Section I Toccoa to Normandy)

one of my fave things about dick is him shaking his fist at A Thing only to turn around and do exactly what he says he would Not Be Caught Dead Doing.

exhibit a: pooh-poohing the idea of joining the paratroopers until he's convinced by the image of the hard, lean, bronzed men of the outfit:

Dick's letter to DeEtta Jan. 22, 1942

“Now that it looks as if I might be going to [Fort] Benning, Trent’s dug up that old desire of his to be a member of the Parachute Troops. I’ve been telling him he’s nuts for that’s a suicide outfit.”

From Beyond Band of Brothers by Dick Winters and Cole Kingseed

“The more I looked at the paratroopers, the more I was inclined to join them as soon as I graduated from OCS. Of all the outfits I’d seen at Fort Benning, they were the best looking and most physically fit. After ten months of infantry training, I realized my survival would depend on the men around me. Airborne troopers looked like I had always pictured a group of soldiers: hard, lean, bronzed, and tough. When they walked down the street, they appeared to be a proud and cocky bunch exhibiting a tolerant scorn for anyone who was not airborne.”

[bleedingcoffee42]

Dick Winter's resume circa mid 1950s from the Winter's Files at USAHEC.

[pfctipper]

nothing sums up how truly fucked the band bootcamp was like stephen mccole (moose heyliger) not realising the rest of the cast didn’t genuinely hate him until 2015

a middle-aged man describing attending a reunion as ‘facing my demons’ because dale dye did such a number on some twenty year olds. this is what makes great television

transcript of the dead eyes podcast under the cut

[goodluckbabeheffron]

i don’t often watch the last episode of bob so these guys are kinda just stuck in a constant loop that i refuse to let end

[wandering-jana]

Toccoa Falls

Toccoa, Georgia

Sept. 25, 2024

[hanniewinnix]

LT Richard Winters (far left) performing training at Fort Benning, Georgia before assignment to 506th PIR, Camp Toccoa, GA, October 4, 1942. (Picture from Lancaster (PA) Sunday News, October 1942.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Night 1 at Camp Toccoa with @dontirrigateme !!!

[rebeccapearson]

band of brothers appreciation week 2023 day three: underrated characters {insp.}

[ww2yaoi]

speirs is kind of ridiculously handsome. like between him and web it's like oh sorry didn't know you had to be a fucking model to transfer to easy company

[trashbag-baby666]

Willow-Webgott

Hello, @educationalporpoises !!! I’m your secret Santa!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! A lot of fun!! So I really hope you like it!!! I had to split it into two parts because I really bit off a lot with the plot! But please enjoy!!!

Summary: David got his dream part in the art schools production of The Nutcracker. Now he just has to face the taunting of his mother and his dance rival Stephanie Sobel. But Joes there to support him and get him through it all.

WC: 4,017

C/W: topics of eating disorders and body dysmorphia. Some NSFW jokes.

BofB Masterlist!

All dances mentioned can be found on this YouTube playlist I made!

"I got the part!" Web ran over to Lieb as he came out of his last ballet class of the day where Lieb always came and watched the end of practice because he had a study hall.

"Oh Liebling!" Web jumped into his boyfriend's arms hugging him tight.

Web had been working so hard since he started ballet as a kid. Then he moved to the Toccoa art school and found out about their art school.

The ballet program had been good to him and accommodated him wanting to audition for a technical ‘girls’ part.

"I'm gonna be the Sugar Plum Fairy!" Web smiled, holding his boyfriend's hands tight as he smiled. He had always wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy. But he didn't know if they would cast him because he was a boy, but they did!

Web originally had auditioned for the Nutcracker himself but the Sugar Plum Fairy was the most challenging and biggest part and he had got it.

"Congrats!" George smiled as he walked over, also getting out of class, "I'm the Rat King."

"But you're going to be the best one you earned it" Web congratulated him.

"Hey guys," Daisy came out of her contemporary dance class. She jogged over to the group seeing the excitement, "Did you guys get the Nutcracker parts?"

"I'm gonna be the Sugar Plum Fairy!" Web smiled even bigger.

"Congratulations!" Daisy hugged Web. She knew how hard Web had worked for this part, especially after the dance board at the school said Web could do a 'girls' part.

"George, is going to be the rat king." Web smirked, he was excited.

Every year around the beginning of fall whatever studio he was dancing at always had auditions for The Nutcracker show.

He had heard all the hype surrounding the school's Nutcracker show when he had moved there in the spring.

“Really!?” Daisy looked at her twin and hugged him, “You’re going to do great, both of you. But who got the parts of Clara?”

“Renee,” George hummed, “She deserves it.”

Web thought that there was nothing that could ruin his day after finding out that he had gotten his dream part.

But David’s parents surely knew how to ruin a good moment. He had texted his parents during lunch that he’d be home late since he had a private after school with his ballet teacher.

So, of course when Web came home it was terrible.

Web sifted through the mail toeing off his shoes at the door. “I’m home,” Web trailed off at the end. His parents sat at the table waiting for him to get back.

“David Kenyon, where have you been?” His mother scolded him.

“I texted you guys earlier that I had a private.” Web set the mail on the kitchen table.

“This is unacceptable, we didn't get it. We're having the Smiths over for dinner so go and clean up; Although, you should be watching your figure with the Nutcracker coming up.” His mother crossed her arms looking up and down at him.

Web looked down and just nodded. Web took in a sharp breath as he walked up the steps then went into his room. Slugging his backpack and his dance bag off next to his desk. He opened his closet door looking in the mirror tugging off his hoodie then his shirt. David stood in the mirror looking at his body. Joe said he was too skinny, His mom said differently.

He sighed as he looked in the mirror observing his stomach. His mother made sure that David would never feel comfortable in his body.

Since when his mother first signed him up for ballet he had been skipping meals and counting calories. The dance world was a toxic place, truly David loved what he did but he didn’t know how much longer he could take the constant body critique.

He remembers the first time Joe saw him naked so vividly.

Web was straddled over Joe's lap as he took off his shirt and felt Joe's eyes on him instantly.

He was toned nonetheless from years of intense dance training but you could also see his ribs.

He knew his body was boney and always wondered why Joe was trying to get in his pants.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Joe sat up as he saw Web's figure and his eyes began to well up with hot tears.

“I’m sorry.” Web got off of the bed and went into his bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“No, no. Liebling.” Joe got up and came to the other side of the bathroom door, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…I just really care about you and I think you’re beautiful.”

Joe had known Web for maybe a month but he saw how his mom would berate him for the tiniest of mistakes. How hard she pushed him to be the best and to have the most elegant body.

But instead Web wouldn’t eat, if he did he’d count his calories or he’d have his fingers down his throat trying to make himself throw it up.

Web stood in his bathroom crying as he looked at himself in the mirror. He thought he was so ugly and couldn’t blame Joe for being so repulsed by him. “It’s okay if you wanna leave.” David stared at the closed door waiting for Joe to say something.

“I don’t wanna leave, Web.” Joe stood by the door, he could hear Webs muffled crying, “Why don’t you come out and we can talk about it? We don’t gotta talk about it too, I just wanna know you’re okay.”

Web sighed and grabbed a shirt from the hamper in the bathroom and pulled it on over his bare chest. He unlocked the door and opened it, not meeting Joe’s gaze.

“I think you’re beautiful and I mean it David.” Joe said softly.

“I don’t feel it,” Web sniffed, wiping his tears away and hugged him.

“Then let me convince you,” Joe wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

Web stood in the dance studio at the barre as the ballet class went on.

“You are the Primas of this school, there should be nothing sloppy about your extensions.” Ms. Mai, the ballet teacher droned on.

“Just look at Mr. Webster, for example. Everyone stop and look at him.” She instructed. Web felt himself suck in subconsciously as everyone's eyes were on him.

There was no secret in the studio that Web was obviously the best ballerina at the school. Some of the girls envied him, especially Stephanie Sobel.

She had made sure Web was miserable every chance she got. She at one point had taken David’s pointe shoes out of his bag so that he couldn’t dance.

“Go ahead and run the combination,” Ms. Mai nodded as Web took in a sharp breath as he ran the warm up combo hitting all of the checkpoints for his legs and his feet pointed to perfection. The class clapped for him as he stood there awkwardly. He could feel Stephanie's eyes burning into him. She had been pissed that Web had gotten the Sugar Plum Fairy part. She was then casted as his understudy.

“I’m scared she's going to axe me in the back everytime I’m in class.” Web shook his head. Web sat at the Speirs family kitchen island as Daisy made a snack and George was working on his homework.

“She’s so scary, everytime I look at her it looks like she’s snarling at me.” George looked up from his laptop. David was grateful that George was also in his ballet classes. He then had someone to stand next to and rely on as an ally in the ongoing war of ballet at Toccoa High.

“I just don’t understand why she takes it so seriously,” Daisy shrugged leaning against the island, “Like yeah it’s a good leg up if she wants to go into the professional world. But her getting the part in a fucking High School production of The Nutcracker isn’t going to make or break her career.”

“Well, you should go tell her that. Then she’ll put a knife in your back instead of mine.” Web rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’d love too then I can kick her ass and maybe she can shut her big fucking mouth.” Daisy grabbed out a juice box and aggressively set it on the counter.

“Maybe you can beat up Herbert too while you’re at it. Two siblings with one stone.” George had been getting harassed by him since they moved here a year ago. The Sobel twins were twins from hell where George and Daisy were the good ones.

“I second that, you and Joe both can arrange a time to fight them and do that.” Web chuckled as he looked back down at the paper he had been trying to write for the last week.

“I can’t get it on,” Web was in one of the bathroom stalls as they were trying on their costumes after they were altered.

“What do you mean you can’t get it on you just tried it on last week?” George stood in the stall next to him trying on the mouse king costume.

“George I can’t get it on,” Web repeated. He was panicking as he was trying to get it pulled up further then his hips.

“Here let me come help,” George came out of the stall and Web opened the stall door. Web turned to see George in the mouse costume and tried his hardest not to laugh at him, “You’re laughing now but when I have to put the mouse head on you’re going to pay for it.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Web tried his best to sound serious as he tried to hide the growing smile on his face. Completely forgetting the dilemma on hand of the leotard not fitting.

“Then why’re you smiling?” George raised an eyebrow before grabbing part of Web's costume and trying to help him get it on.

“It’s fine I’ll just go tell Ms. Mai that I need it altered again.” Web sighed looking at George. The shorter boy with dark brown hair looked back at him. George ran his teeth over his lip nervously.

“I wish I could help you more, I’m sorry.” George sighed.

“It’s fine, just don’t let Stephanie see.” Web rolled his eyes as he shut the stall door and changed back into his clothes.

Web came out of the bathroom holding the garment bag that the leotard and tutu were in. “Mrs Mai!” Web rushed over seeing his teacher.

“Oh yes Mr. Webster I’ve been looking for you. You and Ms. Sobels' costumes got switched.” Ms Mai smiled, taking the garment bag from him and waving for him to follow. She walked over to where Stephanie and her friends were standing, “Here’s the right one now.”

“Thank you,” Web took the bag from Ms. Mai.

“Yeah this one was huge on me, you probably couldn’t fit into mine.” Stephanie smirked looking at Web. He felt the words go straight to his head like a white hot blade being twisted and stabbed into him.

He just turned on his heels and hurried back into the men’s bathroom before the tears could start falling.

Joe had no idea what he had walked into when he came upstairs. from plating some food for the two after his dad’s were done making dinner.

Web was standing in Joe's room shirtless looking at himself.

“Woah? Do you wanna eat first or is it fine if it gets a little cold while we go a few rounds?” Joe smirked only half joking. Then David looked at him and could see he was tearing up.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” David turned to look at the other boy. He had felt ugly and uncomfortable all day.

“What? No. David, who said that to you?” Lieb set the two plates of food down on his desk.

“No one,” Web sniffed, rubbing his eyes free of the ever growing tears. Joe knew he was lying, but now wasn’t the time to press.

Joe came over and wrapped him in his tight embrace. Web rested his head on his shoulder as he let out a broken sob.

“Let’s sit down, yeah?” Joe led Web over to his bed sitting them down. Web curled into Joe as he couldn’t stop the tears.

He just wished he felt normal.

He had had an eating disorder since he hit puberty.

He hated doing ballet.

He wanted to quit.

“Can I tell you something? But please don't get mad at me.” David tried wiping his tears away but they were never ending.

“I wouldn’t ever be mad at you,” Joe rested his hand on Webs thigh.

“I want to quit ballet.”

Web found himself in class again going over his dance again and again, Stephanie behind him practicing.

“Mr. Webster, don’t make me remind you again.” Ms. Mai narrowed her gaze at him as Web knew he had missed a step. He Had felt off since he and Joe had the conversation of him quitting.

“Here, why don’t you watch Ms. Sobel, do it once.” Ms. Mai motioned for him to come stand next to her. The few steps from where he was dancing to standing next to her. Felt like a walk of shame. He could feel the smirk on Stephanie's face and could hear all her snide remarks going off in his head.

Ms. Mai motioned to the other student to play the music as Stephanie performed the dance perfectly. Just the way that David would’ve a week ago before he even spoke his thoughts of quitting.

When she was finished Web clapped for her just because he felt forced to by the teacher.

“I think if you give me another chance I could perform it just as well.” David spoke up.

“Okay,” Ms. Mai had Stephanie and David switch places. Stephanie was sure enough to give him a dirty look as they switched.

Web took a deep breath and took the opening position of the dance. As the music began to play, Web could feel the eyes of the other ballet classes watching him. As they got dismissed from their classes.

He could feel the next eight counts coming, the one he kept forgetting.

He could feel his heart beating in his ears as the music played and he could feel the counts coming. But he didn’t miss it. He smiled to himself as he knew he had done it and finished the dance. He took his ending pose and smiled as the other students began clapping.

“Very good, Mr. Webster.” Ms. Mai smiled, clapping for him.

It was opening night, Web had fought tooth and nail. Blood, sweat, and tears. And mostly Stephanie to get here.

“Are you excited?” George buzzed as he came over to where Web was doing his makeup.

David truly didn’t know if he was excited. One hand he was excited to finally perform what he had been fighting for since September. The other hand he knew if he messed up not only Stephanie would taunt and bully him. But his mother would too.

“A little bit,” Web looked up from his eyeshadow pallet. The entire friend group was here too including Joe. So that meant he had to perform his best.

“Well Ma and Pa will be cheering for you. Pa probably will anyway while you’re dancing. 20 some years in the military and going on 15 years of me and Daisy dancing. Man still doesn’t know ballet etiquette." George giggled showing off his crooked teeth, “he will be leaning over to the poor soul sitting next to him and go. ‘That’s my son and daughter's best friend.”

Web smiled a bit, George always knew how to make anyone feel better. During their showcase last year when David was nervous to do his solo. George stood in the wings with him before he went on. Doing the best impressions of all their friends he could do. Without the two of them disrupting the whole show with their laughter.

“You’re going to do great, I just know it. You’ve been working way harder than anyone else. You deserve this and you earned it.” George gave him a hug.

“Thank you, you’re going to kill it out there as the mouse king.” Web snickered, motioning to the mouse costume head sitting in the chair next to his.

“Don’t talk about Jaq like that!” George covered the ears of the head.

“You named him?” Web stopped applying the eyeshadow and turned to look at the other boy.

“Yeah, I’ve spent a lot of time with him this semester.” George winked, “Don’t tell Joe.”

“You’re gross,” Web laughed, throwing his mascara tube at him jokingly.

“Yeah, next time you and Joe come over don’t leave your used condom in the bathroom.” George snickered.

“Oh? Did Joe not suck your dick on my kitchen island?” Web gasped jokingly.

“Mr. Speirs we’re starting soon and I need everyone in act one to come to the wings.” Ms. Mai poked her head in the dressing room where George and Web were still in there, “Mr. Webster when you’re done you should go run your dance in the hallway.”

“See you later, I’ll come find you when I’m done.” George grabbed the mouse head and followed Ms. Mai out the door.

Web finished his makeup and put on his pointe shoes then grabbed his phone and water bottle.

He hadn’t been running his dance for very long when he saw Sobel walking down the hallway. George paused the music and awkwardly stood by the wall picking up his phone and water bottle. He awkwardly started checking his texts hoping Sobel would just leave him alone and he was going to the bathroom.

He wasn’t sure which came first…he suddenly felt himself being pushed into the wall and Sobel stomping down onto his ankle. Then he heard the snapping as he collapsed onto the hard floor. He heard himself let out a shriek as he grabbed his ankle.

“This is kinda weird,” Joe whispered to Daisy as the dance of Clara and The Nutcracker went on.

“I know, every year I get to watch this weird ballet. I was in it when I was younger actually.” Daisy snickered quietly.

“Really?” Joe smirked as the two bowed their heads to talk to each other.

“Yup, I played one of the kids at the christmas party then one of the mice in the battle.” Daisy nodded.

“Wow,” Lieb joked, elbowing her lightly. Then he felt his phone vibrate, he turned it over and saw a text from Web.

Web<3: Come out into the hall. Please.

Joe showed Daisy the text and Lieb shrugged, getting up out of the end row seat and going out into the hallway and around the corner. Then he saw the scene, David crying, sitting against the wall, and holding his left ankle.

“Jesus, fuck.” Lieb said as he got down on his knees, “What happened, meine liebe?”

“Fucking, Sobel.” Web yelped out as Lieb gently removed Web's grasp.

“I’m going to text Daisy to get Gene, but why don't we take off your shoes and tights. Yeah?” Lieb asked as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted her.

David adjusted against the wall as Joe gently took Webs ankle untying and unwrapping the ribbons.

“Ow, ow.” Web sniffed as Joe gently took off the pointe shoe.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, Web. We’re almost done.” Joe gently rubbed Web's thigh supportingly to try and distract him from where he had to reposition his ankle.

“I gotta cut open your tights.” Lieb sighed and grabbed the pocket knife he most certainly shouldn’t have had.

“I know,” Web sniffed. Joe gently cut the seam on the toe and helped him slide it up.

Both cringed as the dark bruised, swollen ankle became apparent.

“Fuck,” Joe muttered and looked up to see Gene and Daisy running down the hall.

“What happened?” Daisy asked as Gene bent down and began inspecting Webs ankle.

“Sobel fuckin’ happened,” Lieb looked at Daisy and he saw the red heads eyes turn red metaphorically as she balled her fist.

“Daisy, I need you to go to the back of the theater where there are paramedics. But also get his parents.” Gene instructed her.

“I’m gonna kill that mother fucker.” Lieb snarled.

“No, stay here.” Web grabbed Joe's hand as Gene held it on his lap to elevate his ankle.

Web was embarrassed as he rode him in the passenger seat of Joe's beat up, old car. His ankle was broken and he had no idea how to respond.

When his doctor told him he wouldn’t be dancing for at least two months the panic set in. His mother just narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“I’m sorry this happened to you…you don’t deserve that at all. I promise you I’m gonna make sure he fucking knows who he’s fucking with.” Joe said increasingly more aggressively. Before his steering wheel in anger.

“It’s okay, I don’t want you getting in trouble.” Web shook his head.

Stephanie would now take over his part in the Nutcracker for the following weeks till Christmas.

“He deserves to be expelled.” Joe brewed as he drove them back to the Webster house.

Joe carried Web up the steps and down to his bedroom. Setting the other boy down on his bed. “What clothes do you want?” Lieb asked as he set down Webs backpack down.

“Just a shirt and some boxers.” Web sighed and shrugged. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He wouldn’t be allowed to dance for two months. Then he’d have to re-build up the muscles in his feet to dance on pointe.

But at the same time he was almost glad that he couldn’t dance for two months.

He was excited to get to take some time off. He was questioning whether he wanted to stay in ballet and now he had time to make the right choice.

“I’ll go get you some ice when we’re done.” Joe came over and kissed Webs cheek, “Ich liebe dich.”

“Ich liebe dich auch.” David tried to ignore the pain as Joe helped him change out of his joggers and took his boot off him.

He was feeling lucky when Joe came back with an ice pack wrapped in a towel.

“Okay,” Joe checked the pillows that his ankle was propped on and then gently set the ice on his ankle.

“Thank you,” David blushed a deep red. He watched as Joe changed then climbed in next to him.

“I love you, I’m sure you would’ve done an amazing job. I know you would have. You’re the only person I really like to watch Dance. Don’t tell Daisy.” Lieb chuckled. Web smirked and giggled a bit.

“I know I would’ve done it better than Stephanie performed it” Joe took off his shirt and grabbed his phone. He checked her

Instagram page and showed the video to David. She missed some steps and her foot was sickled.

“I love you,” Web gently turned off Liebs phone and kissed his cheek.

“Can’t believe this,” David’s mom shook her head, pacing in the kitchen. Since Joe left and Web was just trying to have breakfast she started nagging him.

“You should’ve stood up for yourself, now look.” She motioned to the boot on David’s ankle.

“I know,” Web sat at the table awkwardly spinning his cereal around in the pool.

“You better be watching what you’re eating if you’re going to not be active for awhile.” She pointed her spoon at the cereal he was eating, “Have some yogurt tomorrow instead.”

“What does it matter?” Web mumbled staring down into the cereal bowl.

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me, David?” His mother snapped at him.

“I said I’m quitting ballet.” David snapped, slapping the table.

Pt Two coming soon…