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#then there's the one about neil passing out on the floor and having a dream about two trucks having sex
starseneyes · 4 months
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Good Omens - A Good Kiss
I know we all have hopes and dreams for Season 3. And we all know the masterful Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman already had a plan and it will be sensational, whatever it is.
But as I considered my personal, fangirl wish list, I finally reached the crux of why mine includes a "good" kiss for our favorite ineffable idiots.
And... well... it's personal. But, I thought I'd share. Writing things out is always healing for me, so maybe it'll help someone else, ya know?
TRIGGER WARNING: Assault / Child Molestation
When I was 12 years old, I rode home from a funeral with my abuela's best friend's husband. I was told repeatedly he was like a second grandfather to me since mine died when I was only 8.
So, once we arrived at his house ahead of my abuela and her friend, I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for listening to me on the ride as I rattled on about Star Trek.
He took this as an invitation to stick his tongue down my throat. He went to put his arms around me, but I let my body weight drop to the floor and crawled away until I could stand. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in until my abuela and her friend arrived.
When they did, I asked for a pen and paper to write down various nuts. I asked them for suggestions, and while I did write down nuts... I also wrote down what happened. I passed the note to my abuela, asking her to double check my notes.
We left moments later. But in the car, she yelled at me. She said I "made him do it" and that I was an over-affectionate, bad girl. That I shouldn't tell anyone, especially my mother, because she would be angry with me.
Suffice it to say, that was the last summer I spent with her. But only after I found the bravery to tell my mother what happened months later.
The damage was done. I believed my abuela that I was the problem. I believed I ruined everything. The psychological damage from that whole thing spanned decades.
// END TRIGGER
So, for me, I want Crowley and Aziraphale to have a kiss that is good because their first kiss was absolutely awful. Narratively gutting and incredible? Yes. Gosh, yes. But awful.
And I want to watch them have a shared kiss that is sweet and filled with the love they both obviously feel for one another.
I'm not likening the Aziracrow kiss to assault. Please know that. I'm only connecting the dots of why I respond so strongly to the idea of a "good" kiss for our ineffables.
I realized that my trauma is informing how I view that first kiss of theirs. It isn't the sweet, loving, wonderful kiss that I want for them. I want them to have the opportunity to kiss one another openly, on the same page, fully enveloped in one another's love and embracing it.
They aren't defined by whether or not they kiss again. Their love is alive in everything they say and do. It is not conditional on a kiss.
But I still want it for them.
My whole thing with my first boyfriend when I was 16 wasn't the dream, but my first kiss was. He didn't even know my history, but I still remember him asking permission before kissing me ever so sweetly. And that kiss was strangely healing.
So while it's absolutely selfish, I do hope we get another kiss between our ineffables in Season 3. Because I want that lovely moment for them, but also for me.
I'm gutted that their first kiss was awful, and I would love them to have the sweetness that I finally found myself.
Oh, and my husband? The man I married 16 years ago and have been with 20 years? Besides a stage role (because, of course, I married an actor), I was his first kiss. And it was the sweetest!
Now, we might not get a kiss in Season 3. I completely understand that. There's an ineffable plan already in play that will be whatever it will be. But, I do have this hope... and now I understand why.
Golly, isn't it strange how the media we consume can feed into our own healing? Maybe I'll tell you the rest of my story another time. But, for now, I'm glad I understand myself a little better. Growth! Huzzah!
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rhoorl · 8 months
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Halloween Horror Nights
So, last night I attended my first Halloween Horror Nights (HHN) event. I've lived in Orlando for years, but have never gone because I'm a wimp and get scared easily. But The Last of Us got me for this year, how could I not go see Joel and Ellie fight off some clickers in real life, right?
I'll save TLOU to the end if you want to skip to that (or don't want to get spoiled).
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Mr rhoorl and I had a plan that was basically to do all of the TLOU stuff this visit. We have a pass so we're going to be able to go a few more times, which is nice because I didn't feel pressured to do it all in one night.
We ended up getting to do all five scare zones throughout the park. While they all had distinct themes, they were all connected via the event icon (the master of ceremonies, if you will), Dr. Oddfellow. There's some HHN lore around this character, which I still need to read about for my return trips but think of him like a crazed circus entrepreneur.
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I only got photos during the first scare zone because it was still light out. I had a friend tell me that the performers target you if you're on your phone, so I put it away. I then made very aggressive eye contact at the performers basically to say I see you and you see me so don't scare me... but that approach didn't work. 🤣 HHN uses fog effects to it's advantage, there were times I was walking and could not see in front of me and someone would pop out. Eek!
New this year, the Death Eaters descended upon Diagon Alley in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter section of the park. This was so cool and they were so intimidating and scary! Some people brought their wands and tried to duel with them which was fun to watch. They also sought out anyone who had a tattoo of the dark mark.
There was a show called Nightmare Fuel Revenge Dream that was pretty cool. Lots of dancers and aerial performers doing their thing to metal and electronica. We got very lucky because we were amongst the last people to get in for our performance before it reached capacity and because they were running out of space, we got to sit in a reserved section that was empty - so we got really good seats. Yay! Unfortunately, they didn't allow photos during the performance.
Ok now to the TLOU stuff!
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My husband and I made a beeline to the TLOU house first thing. We were so pumped, especially after seeing on Instagram that Neil Druckmann had been at Universal earlier in the week to see the final product. It made me feel like if he’s signing off on this, then it must be good. For those who have played the game, the house is set in the Pittsburgh level of the game.
We waited about an hour and then made our way inside. I’ll be honest with you, with this being my very HHN and my first haunted house since I was in high school (a long time ago), I’m probably not the most reliable narrator for this house but I can tell you I had a lot of fun. I noticed Joel in the very first room we were in and I immediately shot my shot at him and said “I love you Joel, protect us!” Like, I had to. He was wearing the green flannel shirt, like COME ON.
There were several clickers and runners throughout the first few rooms that would pop out. While I knew that the performers could not touch you, I was surprised by how close they got when they popped out. The good news about that was I was able to see the masks pretty close up haha. The bloater they had in the house (I think there were at least two, maybe a third but I may have had my eyes closed), it looked freaking awesome! 
At one point we see Ellie, ushering us along to safety - the performer looked great and was so convincing. We then spotted Joel up on the second floor of a house protecting us because that’s what Joel does. Again, I yelled my appreciation. My thirst reigned supreme over my terror. There were a few more scares on the way out but we made it to safety! 
It was all a blur but I had a blast going through the house and can’t wait to go back. Now that I’ve gone through it once, I know what to expect. My wedding anniversary is in October and our gift to each other this year is going to be a behind-the-scenes tour where you can walk through the houses with the lights on. TLOU is one of the houses on the list and I’m so excited to do that because I know that Universal and Naughty Dog have put so many Easter eggs in there. A friend of ours said that at one point you could see Joel’s backpack and watch, but I was too overwhelmed to notice on my first walk-through!
There were two food booths with TLOU-themed food and drinks (there was definitely a mushroom theme with the savory items). You could sit and eat in a FEDRA-themed area which was cool. There were Firefly symbols and “look for the light” written everywhere. I stood in a super long line, but I got the “Left Behind Ravioli” which came in a food ration can that you can keep. It was cheese ravioli in a truffle cream with tempura Enoki mushrooms. It was actually pretty tasty and filling. We also got the Fedra Ration Bar which is essentially a scotcheroo but the coolest part is that it came wrapped in a ration card (which I also kept). The final food item we got was the Cordyceps Corndog which was a Korean cheese dog with truffle cream and sprouts. Theme park food booths can sometimes be hit or miss, but I loved all three of these items. 
The decorations were on point. I really loved all of the details that went into this sign where you can see the evolution of the infected. I’ll try and get a photo of this in the daytime sometime.
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There wasn’t a ton of TLOU merch compared to some of the other IP-related houses like Stranger Things or Chucky. But, I managed to get a shirt and a coaster along with an event t-shirt I can wear when I come back on my next visit.
I’m looking forward to checking out more of the event in my subsequent visits and catching more of the hidden details in the TLOU house as I get used to wear the scares are. 
If you made it this far, thanks for reading my rambling and happy spooky season to you all!
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When the past knocks on her door, Silena has to come clean
Part 4 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity
(Chapter 2 under cut)
Chapter 2: Sunrises in Shades of Violent Despair
Summary: Jason stumbles in
“I really don’t know what ‘I love you’ means. I think it means ‘don’t leave me here alone.’” 
- Adventures in the Dream Trade (Neil Gaiman)
There is someone passed out on her couch. Someone who looks like they’ve run into the wrong end of a pile driver, fractured bones, split skin and bruises mottling every visible inch of them.
And there is her, kneeling beside him and staring at a pool of drying blood with a thousand yard stare, a cloth circling mechanically and smearing more blood than it’s wiping away. 
He’s terrified to speak anymore, not when his earlier words sent her down so hard he’d thought she’d go through the floor. Whatever the meaning of this is, it’s an awful one. His eyes flick to the couch again. Vinyl covers, ugly as sin, but she’d always refused to hear anything against them. 
(Easy to clean. Hides blood.)
(Fuck.)
How long has she been taking people in like this? How has he not noticed? Where the fuck has she been hiding all the medical supplies he sees scattered around? What the fuck is going on?
(You ignored all the signs that something was wrong.)
(There has to be an explanation.)
(She’s lying.)
(About what? What the fuck do you think?)
(You’re asking my opinion?)
(I’ve got nothing else.)
(Kill her.)
Jason’s lips curl angrily. The one fucking time he wants the parasite in his head to voice an opinion and all it gives him is the worst fucking option. 
(She lied.)
His hand crunches the bloody rag into a fist.
(She lied.)
He looks at her, maybe his last look at her, taking in the familiar- 
Sitting back on his heels, he blinks at the right side of her face. At the texturing he’s somehow never noticed before. He’s looked at her face how many thousands of times, studied it and memorized it, he thought he’d have been able to pick it out of a crowd. But now? Now, he’s wondering if he’s ever seen her before at all. It’s right there, plain as day because he knows what covered scars look like. There are plenty on his own face he covers when he’s out in civilization. Little nicks from where the crow bar took skin around the most obvious one that caved his skull in, the one he hates with every fiber of his being carved at the hinge of his jaw that no amount of stubble will even try to touch. Like that patch of skin is cursed, defiled, forever unsalvageable. 
(Stop thinking about it.)
(It’s just as cursed as the rest of you.)
She’s tried very hard to make it look natural and gotten impressively close. But not close enough that he shouldn’t have fucking noticed. 
(Did the crowbar take an eye too?)
Reaching towards her shoulder, he expects her to jump at the movement, look at him, react in any way at all. She’s strung tight enough to snap with a feather touch and so hyper aware he thinks a speck of dust could set her off if it moved wrong. If she looks at him, maybe he’ll get a better angle to see exactly how blind he’d been.
But she doesn’t notice until he touches her and a sickening pit of suspicion opens in his stomach when she flinches away. 
“I’m going outside,” he tells her, sounding far away in his own ears. He can’t be next to her without losing either his guts or his mind, both of which will result in him doing something irrevocably stupid and he’s fucked up enough recently. 
(Letting her in at all was the fuck up.)
(I didn’t know.) 
(Because she’s been lying to you.)
(I’ve been lying to her.)
(Not since you showed her.)
(But I never told her the truth.)
(She never asked.)
Walking away from her might be irrational, but he can’t bring himself to empty a chamber into her. 
(Shoot her. Don’t give her a chance to run.)
(She won’t run.)
(You don’t know her at all.)
(Weak. She walked into your hands, end her.)
But she’d smiled at him in sunlight and danced with him even past moon-rise, like the light would never fade. 
(She danced with a dead man.)
She’d laid out his helmet like a welcome mat, helped hold his weary body upright, brushed gentle hands over bruises and run loving fingers through his hair. Cooked dinner with him, sprawled in his lap and made inane commentary to stupid shows, spoken so passionately about stitching techniques he didn’t even begin to understand, listened to him ramble on about engines and complain about fiddly electronics. Normal. Every time he swept through her door, he was normal again. 
He can’t hurt her. Because even when she knew she had a lion in her lap, she loved him all the same.
“Do I get any explanation?” He’s not even looking at her when he asks, face obscured and focused on the distant sight of the tower denoting Wayne Enterprises, barely visible from her shitty fire escape placement. 
“How long of one do you want?” she replies, hugging herself as she watches him from the open window. 
“I want the truth.”
“That’s the most dangerous part.”
“It usually is.” Silence falls, his back to her, her eyes burning into the back of his skull. She can’t taste anything but ash and gasoline, the tarry pit of vinegar tinged betrayal, the metallic and rottingly cloying resignation.
“I…” she can’t start. How can she start? The Greek gods are real and it all gets worse from there? It’s the truth but…
“Anna-” There.
“Silena.” Something shatters there, in the silence. She thinks it’s a heart, but if it’s hers or his she has no idea. Maybe both . “My… my name is Silena. Anna is what my father called me when I was little. Easy for me to answer to.” And that one truth is the final crack that brings down the floodgates, that brings everything she’s ever swallowed into the light, look at me, look at this awful thing- “My apartment is a… pit stop, I guess you could call it. A waystation is what it’s actually called. It’s… it’s for other people like me who need help. Other demigods.” Keep going. “The Greek gods are real. They have children with humans. And…” keep going, keep going- “and we’re not expected to live long. Between monsters, gods and others like us, it’s rare for us to see twenty.”
“Why did you lie?” And there’s the kicker, please look at me. If she sees his face, she’ll know what to say, how to say it. His taste hasn’t changed, she’s running practically blind and hoping this doesn’t blow up in her face, you knew the risks when he came to you that night and you’ve let him in every night since.
“There are no meta-humans allowed in Gotham,” she whispers. “So I hide in plain sight. Most don’t stay. They don’t come here unless there’s no choice.”
“Why did you come here?” She closes her eyes. Even if he was facing her now, she’ll keep running blind. This is the most honest you’ve been in years, isn’t it?
“To hide,” she repeats, “in plain sight.” 
A hand touches her chin, making her eyes fly open. He’s so quiet she hadn’t even heard him come close. He stands just to the other side of the crooked, ill hung window frame in her crappy, run down apartment that’s seen too much despair, reaching over the sill and cupping her chin like she’s glass.
“That’s not everything,” he murmurs, his eyes digging into her soul like it’s an open book to him. Maybe it is. Only the gods know what exactly this man is capable of and Silena certainly isn’t one.
“It’ll take a long time to tell you the story of my life.” She doesn’t dare touch him, look at me, look at this wretched little thing before you and see the truth that everyone else ignored, everyone else denied. 
“You would tell me?”
“You’re the only person I know who’d listen.” They stare at one another, deadlocked in an eternal second before he huffs a broken laugh.
“That’s not a high bar.”
“It is for me.” And it really is. Someone who would listen . Even if he hates her by the end of it, Jason will listen. “It is for me.”
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phantombeesting · 2 years
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He wasn't expecting anything in all honesty. I mean it's just another day to everyone else.
March 29th.
The sun rises, birds chirp, people kiss their loved ones and Billy Hargrove turns 18. The world just keeps on spinning.
The morning passes as expected. No fanfare, no cards, no presents, no well wishes; just Neil reminding him that now he's an adult he will be held fully accountable for all his 'misdeeds' with no leeway, just real consequences. Billy had to fight the joyless almost manic laugh that bubbles up inside him at that, leeway? That's what Neil's been giving him? Holy Shit that's funny. Thankfully if he shows any signs of this perceived hilarity on his face no one notices and he makes it away from the house without Neil showing him what this new version of accountability looks like.
——
The ride to school with Max passes in comfortable silence, the sound of the engine the only thing breaching it. Since she so generously offered to nail his balls to the floor with the hell bat that still haunts his dreams, their relationship has gotten better. Not on the level of siblings but it had only been a few months. They’d even talked about it, actual words, tried to see each other's sides in it all. A conversation made easier by Max seeing the reality that was waiting for Billy at the house, see the pound of flesh Neil took from him for failing to keep her safe. She’d understood his fear a little better then, and promised not to put him in that position again, as long as he (in her words) stopped being an emotionally constipated asshole, which yeah fair.
Billy had even started helping out with the babysitters club runs. The boys were still wary of him and tended to climb in with Harrington or Wheeler if she was about, but that weird girl El seemed to like him. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t discovered a soft spot for her in return. He’d even started keeping a couple of the cassettes she liked in the car to make her smile.
As they pull up outside the middle school Max jumps out of the car, grabbing her bag slamming the door behind her. Before he had a chance to pull away Max leaned back through the window.
“Remember you’re picking me up from El’s tonight at 6 pm sharp”
“Curfew isn’t till 11 Max can’t you stay longer? I was hop…”
She cuts him off “6 pm sharp Asshole”
With that she runs off towards her boyfriend, Billy fixes the boy with a harsh stare, he can see him fight the urge to shrink under his gaze and Billy’s lip curls up slightly at that. He doesn’t dislike the kid and if he’s going to be dating Max then he'll need that backbone.
A little annoyed at the marching orders Max had given him, Billy peels the Camaro out of the school lot, turning his music up and heads toward Hawkins High.
It's the last day of school before the start of Spring Break so there's a sense of excitement spreading across campus. Talk of parties, date nights and mall meetups; Billy just doesn't have it in him to pay actual attention to any of it.
"Hargrove, are you even fucking listening ?"
Fingers snap right in front of his eyes bringing his focus to the annoyed-looking Tommy across the table.
"No. You talk shit so often Hagan I've learnt to tune most of it out" Billy bites back. That earns him an unimpressed look from the other boy and a barking laugh from Carol. Tommy wasn’t too bad if he was being honest, but he only really cared about sitting next to whoever the current kind was. Power by association.
"As I was saying asshole, party tonight at Britneys. Are. You. Coming?" Tommy drags the last few words out like he's talking to a child. “I’ve heard she’s hoping a certain King slayer will show up and let her polish his sword.”
“Fucking Jesus” Billy wipes his hand down his face “Really wish you wouldn’t call me that”
“I kind of like it, ‘King Slayer’ sounds sexy” Carol lets the words roll off her tongue like she’s trying to taste them, looking right at Billy playing up the pout on her lips for effect.
Her words rile her intended target as Tommy’s ears go bright red, it’s clear which of them has the most control in their relationship. It’s fun to watch the games they play with each other sometimes.
“Well sorry to disappoint a loyal subject but I have better things to do.”
“Like what? Don’t tell me you're turning bitch too now Hargrove” Tommy practically spits the words out. It’s something Tommy’s been joking about since they got back from Christmas break, implying he's disappointing him the same way Steve did; it’s slowly starting to feel less like a joke the longer it goes on.
Billy can feel that familiar anger pulling his skin tight. “Since when have I fucking answered to you?” He doesn’t give Tommy a chance to answer standing up from the table and storming out. He needs a smoke.
———
The rest of the day passes easily enough, most teachers have checked out and either show movies or let people read their own books. The tension that started to work its way under Billy’s skin at lunch still sits there, it finds a home in the muscles of his jaw and the hunch of his shoulders and by the time the bell rings to signal the end of the day it’s infected his whole being. He doesn’t even have practice to help him burn it off.
———
He can’t go back to the house like this, he’d just be asking for trouble. And despite what he told Tommy, apart from picking up Max later he doesn’t have anywhere to go, doesn’t have anyone he can talk to. That's the bit that hurts the most; after everything that’s happened in the past year, the beatings, the fight, the interdimensional monsters, it’s the loneliness that eats at him alive.
If he were less of a coward he’d reach out to Harrington; they’re on decent terms now but he couldn’t exactly call them friends as much as he likes to think it’s heading that way. He’s the only person that comes to mind when Billy thinks of opening up and sharing that dark, raw, ugly space inside him, the only person he thinks will understand. It’s times like this that he misses his Mom she’d know what to do.
With a lack of a better destination, Billy ends up at the quarry. He skips stones until his arms are sore, plays songs that remind him of the warmth of his Mom’s smile and feels the tick in his jaw loosen a little. Before he knows it it’s almost time to pick up Max.
———
“What do you mean she’s not here?” He can hear the crack in his voice and sees the confusion starting to pull at Hopper's brow.
“She said she’d be here, she can’t not be here.” He tries to take a handle on the mess of rage and fear ripping through him, rising up his throat like bile threatening to choke him. Real consequences, he’d threatened real consequences, he’s dead, he’ll kill him, Max promised, he’d trusted her, she promised, she promised, she promised. He can’t breathe, visions of the bat, his dad, and Harringtons’ bloodied face flood him and he can’t breathe, he’s choking.
“Woah kid take a breath, I can tell you where she is but first just take a moment ok?” Hopper takes big deliberate breaths inviting Billy to mimic him, moving slowly forward like he thinks he’ll spook, reaching out to place a hand in the centre of Billy’s chest “Come on, In and out, you can do this, In and out.”
Billy tries to focus on the slight pressure of the chief's hand, he manages a shaky breath. It’s still early, he still has time to find her, Hopper knows where she is, he said he’d tell him where she is. He can still fix this.
“Come on big guy In and out” the name actually pulls him slightly from his panic if he had more air in his lungs he might have laughed.
It takes what feels like hours but in reality must just be no more than a few minutes but Billy can finally breathe on his own, it’s still shaky but he can control it. Hoppers gone from big theatrical breaths to just watching and waiting for Billy to finish pulling himself together.
“So I’m going to tell you where she is in a moment, on the understanding that at some point when you’re ready you are going to come here and fully explain what just happened.”
Billy opens his mouth to lie to reassure him but gets cut off.
“And I’m not going to buy that it’s nothing, because Kid that wasn’t nothing. You don’t need to tell me now, just need you to agree that you’ll tell me eventually. OK?” Billy can tell from the tone that it’s not really a question so he just nods.
“Ok so I dropped El and Max off at Steve’s earlier” And that hits him like a tonne of bricks.
Barely above a whisper “She’s with Harrington?” Of course she’s with Harrington, a bubble of laughter leaves his throat there’s no happiness in it, just a sad resignation.
“Look, she told me you knew. That he was letting them use his pool for something” Hopper takes a moment, like he’s mulling something over. “Ok so here's what we’re going to do, You’re going to get in my truck and were going to drive over there, together and me you and those girls are going to have a little conversation about honesty” As Hopper moves away Billy can hear him mutter “Friends don’t lie my ass.”
———
The ride over to the Harrington house is long enough that all traces of anger have left Billy’s body, he’s left with a sick hollow feeling sitting heavy in his gut.
“I erm called ahead, spoke to Steve let him know we were coming. Seems the brats weren't fully honest with him either.” Hopper wipes his hand over his face as they pull into the driveway.
Steve must have been looking out for them because he slips out the front door just as the chief cuts the engine.
“He said he wants to speak to you before you go in. Take as long as you need, I’m going to head in and find those two” Billy doesn’t think he could speak right now if he tried, just tilts his chin down to show he heard.
Hopper clears his throat as he leaves the vehicle, clapping his hand on Steve's shoulder as he reaches him, they exchange a few words Billy can’t hear and he sees Steve gesture to the house before the Chief heads inside.
Steve looks as apprehensive as he feels, and that actually makes him feel a little better. Ok he can do this. Billy takes a deep breath and steps out of the truck.
“Well this feels familiar, you standing in front of a house, hiding my sist… hiding Max” Billy wishes there were more bite to the words but he’s just so tired.
“If it makes you feel better I’m not going to tell you she’s not in there this time” It’s an attempt at a joke that doesn’t really land. He hasn’t been able to look at Steve fully until that moment, focusing instead on the ground in front of him. But now he sees the apologetic half smile, the pleading look in his eyes, it’s open and honest. And Billy, fuck Billy wants to trust him.
“I told her she needed to tell you, that erm even if she didn’t tell you everything that she should maybe give you some sort of heads up” Steve's hand has moved to the back of his neck, he’s nervous. And Billy is so fucking confused.
“Can you just go in and get her? Please? I’m not really in the mood Harrington”
“I think you should come in with me” He catches Billy off guard with that.
“Harrington…” Steves already stepping backwards towards the house
“Come on, might as well right you’re already here” His eyebrow is raised almost in a challenge now, a smile starting to play at the corner of his mouth. Billy starts slowly putting one foot in front of the other moving towards him.
“Steve …. Please” He hates how needy that sounded
“Plus if you’re wanting to feel really nostalgic i’m sure we can find you a plate or something for you to smash over my head” Steve is full on grinning now, it’s not sharp or cruel like Billy would expect. It’s warm and lights a new kind of fire in him “Come on Hargrove, don't you trust me ?” And wants to say ‘no’ but somewhere inside he knows that’s not true.
Billy huffs out a laugh “Lead the way Princess”
Steve turns to the side bowing slightly and moving his arm as if to show Billy the way “After you Birthday Boy” That stops Billy in his tracks.
“How the fuck did you know it’s my birthday?”
“A little shit-bird told me” Steve turns around walking through the house “Come on they’re through the back”
————-
“SURPRISE!!”
And surprise is fucking right.
He was expecting an apologetic pool damp Max.
He wasn’t expecting this. This being Harringtons pool area covered in handmade decorations, paper cutouts of stars, hearts, flowers in a rainbow of colours over every surface he can see, a painted (and still slightly wet looking) Happy Birthday banner and a table covered in pizza boxes, a big pink cake and are those waffles?
It seems like Hopper has already had a word with Max and El as they are both standing sheepishly under the banner.
“Sorry Billy, I just wanted it to be a surprise. I didn’t think'' Max is kicking the toes of her shoes against the floor, to anyone else she’d look disinterested, Billy knows otherwise can tell she's close to tears.
“I like it” Billy has to clear his throat, he can feel words getting stuck in his throat. “Plus it’s still a few hours till curfew so now harm done right?” He reaches out and pushes her head slightly knocking her a little off balance.
“Actually Mom said I could stay at El’s tonight, said to tell you Happy Birthday and feel free to stay out and have fun”
Billy just raises his eyebrow at that.
“Don’t worry I can confirm she’s actually telling the truth, I spoke to Susan before she knows where Max is staying” Hopper helpfully adds.
“Shall this party started then?” Steve presses play on the stereo he’s set up outside and the sounds of Girls just want to have fun fill the space.
The girls crowd the food table, piling plates with pizza slices and syrup covered waffeles. The mood lifts and they are laughing and pushing each other around.
Billy turns towards Steve “Never took you for a Lauper fan Harrington”
“Oh big fan, massive, huge” The smile on his face is infectious “It’s a mixtape El made for you, all the songs that make her happy”
Billy can’t stop smiling, they’ve all done this for him. Theres a fucking cake, he really hopes thats strawberry frosting,
“Wanna grab some pizza? I hope you appreciate that Max talked me into getting that Pineapple monstrosity, I don’t get it myself but she said you liked it” Steve passes him an empty plate and gestures at the table. The girls have left the boxes open all over it.
“I like the contrast; sweet and salty, don’t knock it till you try it, Pretty Boy” Billy lifts a slice to his mouth taking a bite. Steves pulls a face as he watches his chew “What don’t you trust me Harrington?”
Steves not one to back down from a challenge “Yeah ok got nothing to lose right? but if I hate it I’m blaming you” he lifts his pizza up in a toast “Here’s to new experiences” and was that a wink? Billy is 90% sure that was a wink is Harrington flirting with him? Today is giving Billy fucking whiplash.
Once they’ve had their fill of pizza (Steve denied liking the hawaiian pizza but still ate two more slices), and the sun has set Steve lights the candles on his cake and Bill makes his wish; he’s very happy to find out the frosting is indeed Strawberry.
“Ok come on girls we’re going” Hopper comes to stand next to Billy “Come on I’ll take you back to your car”
“Yeah sure, I’ll just be a moment” Billy moves to help move the plates.
“I can drop you off later if you wanted to stay for a while” Steve offers.
“Wait you sure?”
“Yeah I mean pools heated, we still have pizza and waffles…”
“I’m taking the waffles” El’s standing there gripping the edge of the waffle filled plate, it’s not a question. Her expression makes both Billy and Steve laugh.
“Ok well we still have Pizza and the cake” Steve corrects himself. “Plus I have a few beers in the fridge”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that” Hopper grumbles “So you staying or coming with?”
“I’ll stay thanks Chief” Billy half salutes him laughing when Hopper narrows his eyes at him.
“Suit yourself, and remember our deal ok kid? Whenever you’re ready just come find me” and with that Hopper rounds up Max and El, gets them to say their goodbyes and takes them back to the cabin. Watching El try to hug Billy goodbye holding armfulls of waffles is a sight to behold.
————-
That's how Billy ends up on the night of his 18th birthday sat on the edge of Steve’s pools feet dipped into the water slowly sipping a beer. El’s mixtape has been swapped out for something more Billy’s speed (Or at least as close as he can get from Steve's collection).
Billy breaks the comfortable silence “Thank you by the way, for letting them do this here”
“Happy to do it, which reminds me” Steve slowly pushes himself to standing and makes his way over to the kitchen door, he steps inside for a brief second before making his way back towards the pool holding something small in his hands. He lowers himself down next to Billy again closer than before “Have to give it to you before midnight or it’s not a Birthday gift anymore”.
He holds out a palm sized black box to Billy, it’s wrapped in red ribbon with a big bow tied on the front. He hesitantly takes it running his fingers over the smooth bow. "You really didn't have to"
"I know but I saw it the day after the girls asked me to host tonight and I just couldn't not get it for you" Steve takes a sip of his beer, watching Billy’s fingers work the ribbon off the box.
Billy held the box unopened in his hands, he can feel a thrum of energy skittering through the air.
“The gifts inside the box” Steve snarks from beside him.
Billy tries to glare at him but just can’t keep up the blank face for long before cracking into a smile. He turns his attention back to the box lifting the lid, nestled inside is a brand new zippo brand lighter the exact same colour as his camaro. His nose scrunches up and he sniffs away the tears that are trying to form. “Thanks Steve really it means alot” He brings the back of his hand up to wipe at his face. He can see Steve still watching him, a soft smile on his face. He notices that they’re started leaning into each other's personal space.
“Can I tell you what my wish was?”
Steves takes a moment to answer his eyes firmly fixed on Billy’s face now, When he does answer it’s barely above a whisper “Yes erm yeah go ahead”
Billy takes a deep breath fuck it he’s come this far. He turn himself further into Steve space, eyes flicking down to his lips “That you wouldn’t punch me when I try this” He starts slowly moving towards Steve giving him time to move away, when he sees Steve leaning in as well he brings his hand to rest against his cheek pausing right before their lips meet and Steve mutters “To new experiences right?”.
He’s not sure who moves first after that because as soon as their lips meet Billy is lost, all he knows is the taste of Steve's lips and that the hum that lives under his skin is now a full blown flame. The kiss starts off slow, tender, almost innocent but quickly becomes something desperate all teeth and tongue and desire.
It’s Steve that pulls back first smiling when Billy tries to follow him “I like that alot more than the fucking pizza” he leans back in claiming Billy’s lips when he huffs out a laugh in response. Once the initial desperation has dimmed slightly, they are left looking at each other, bodies pressed together.
“Do you want to stay the night? We can go out for breakfast tomorrow before I drop you off at your car. You can come in with me or I can set you up in a spare room. No pressure”
“Why? two new experiences a day your limit Pretty Boy?” He raises his eyebrow at Steve.
“Technically I’m at three for today, maybe four if you count the baking and icing the cake as seperate things”
By the end of the night Steve had lost count of the new things he could tick off.
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power-chords · 1 year
Note
heat 2 really did make hanna so much more fucked-up that i had imagined, lol. i didn't personally read that line as implying that he was one of the soldiers turned war criminals, but - on a similarly ambiguous note - am i crazy, or was the subtext that he'd been getting high off of lauren's adderall prescription? it took a reread before i realized that mann didn't actually state it outright. justine completely cutting contact makes a lot more sense when viewed from that perspective, imo.
Heat Anon, my beloved! Yeah, what a trip, right? For me, in a good way. Because the only thing I love more than getting my suspicions confirmed by canon is a horrible little man who is even more horrible than I originally anticipated. I love an impulsive, thrill-seeking sensation-junkie! Things Hanna does in Heat 2 that made me clap my hands like a toddler: constantly abuse drugs, fuck hookers, parade himself naked in front of a window (I thought this was SO funny), have public sex with graduate students, physically abuse multiple CIs, murder suspected criminals, turn his headlights off at night and floor the accelerator JUST TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS,,,
Re: the war crimes, I don’t know what that line is implying, but the ambiguity is anxiety-provoking: Until he crashed. In the down, some men looked around for what they could kill. I don’t think Hanna was necessarily murdering civilians, to be clear – both the film and the novel tell us that he values innocent life – but the book also makes a point to show us that he has no problem killing in a righteous rage if he thinks the target is deserving. Something went down in Vietnam that is being tiptoed around, vaguely alluded to, and maybe it’s a Heat 3 or Heat 4 disclosure as far as the specifics are concerned, or maybe we’ll simply never know. But there’s too much that traces back there, there are SO many direct and significant references suggesting that Hanna’s whole pathology descends from war, that his behavior as a police lieutenant is almost like a complication of it, a construction through which he can sublimate it. The fact that the visual dream template of the dead bodies seated around the dining table originates in Huế! What a bombshell. Even minor details are sprinkled in there liberally, like when he gets pissed off at people and is clearly imagining lining up a shot when he looks at them. Getting distracted by flashing lights and car alarms. Why, when Hanna protests about Baumann’s corrupt bureaucracy getting in his way, does Baumann immediately follow up with a remark about the Marines:
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Something’s up, man! Something’s up. We’ve got scattered breadcrumbs aplenty.
As for the Adderall thing, I hadn’t considered that, but it’s a possibility. My personal reading is that Lauren has had some kind of drug problem, similar to Hanna’s, and Justine’s concerned that he’s too dangerous of an influence. Showing up clearly strung out, his fuse getting shorter and shorter, who knows. Clearly his indiscretions have gotten worse and more obvious since he killed his soulmate Neil.
There’s a brief scene in the film where Hanna is on patrol with Drucker and they pass Lauren sitting alone at a bus station after school, so he asks her what’s up, if her mom forgot to come get her. And she says no, that she “just wanted to be alone.” Alone on the street, instead of at home with her family. And a look crosses his face, and nothing is ever verbalized, but to me the subtext is pretty haunting: a part of him is rubbing off on her.
P.S. I don’t know if you’ve seen the original scripted scene for what goes down at the hotel in the bathroom, but it is DARK. Somehow even darker than Lauren’s attempted suicide, which is what ultimately made it into the final story. I think about that + the above scene at the bus station all the time, how understated it is but at the same time the level of dysfunction that is being hinted at.
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Text
Seeing Dokken/Lynch Mob/Ted Poley (Danger Danger) in concert
this was just at my normal go-to venue 50 minutes away
I was VERY PREPARED THIS TIME and bought a chair, blanket, hat, gloves, scarf, wore 2 pairs of pants, and my GOOD JACKET
yes this meant ppl were judging me I JUST HATE THE COLD OK
i made line friends again this time we're gonna call them Dan and Barry and they're Elder Metalheads and told stories about protecting their wives and other children at shows
Ted Poley granted me a photo pass but no one from his management gave a fuck and didn't tell the venue so I didn't get a pass :( he's such a sweet guy tho
so this guy I was hanging out with at the Sonic Slam show last summer turned out to be my one insta friend's COUSIN LOL so the two of them plus his mom got me up at the barrier LMAOO it pays off to make friends in line
I was extremely disappointed in the merch. there were literally 3 (three) shirts to choose from. That was it. Plus you could buy a CD if u wanted. They also weren't taking card. Fuck that. I bought a double vodka cranberry instead.
due to personal reasons I think I gotta stan Danger Danger now
literally I never heard a single song by them until a week ago but Ted is just so nice and fun and he put on a hell of a 30 minute show
he also threw balloons into the crowd that we had to blow up ourselves it was hilarious
there was also this little kid next to me the entire time and Ted threw him a balloon but he didn't catch it so he knelt down in front of this kid and threw like ALL the balloons at him it was so sweet ;-;
just wanna say for the record that I was there for like at least 8 core memory moments for that child last night and that balloon story was one of them
for Don't Walk Away, Ted came into the crowd bc he said 'it looks like you're having so much fun out there, I'm gonna join you!' and i couldn't find him like the entire time eoirngwoergnwerg
he also spit like a ton of times over his head and idk what it is about concert but it always makes me want men to spit on me
honestly Ted's set was the height of the show
Lynch Mob was really good and their singer... 👁👄👁
he's got crazy eyes, he's got long curly dark brown hair, and he's a petite little bitch
he also looks like Derek Day from Classless Act and Rami Malek's lovechild
his pants were TOOOOOOO LOWW 👁👄👁👁👄👁👁👄👁 i could see pubes 👁👄👁
watching George Lynch play is an otherworldly experience
at the end of their set, their drummer threw his drumsticks into the crowd and the little boy next to me caught one and everyone around him EXPLODED with joy (another core memory moment)
at one point their bassist threw his pick and I ended up getting it off the floor and giving it to this boy too
his mom thanked me secretly rogwrgtpmrtg
idk why everyone says Don Dokken can still sing I'm sorry but he can't he's worse than Vince Neil like he was literally monotone the entire time I was disappointed
despite that we were still bangin and goin nuts
Don did smile at me 3 times tho and wave at me ;-;
his stories were funny too trpptprptg like he said in Germany they eat french fries with mayo and that's the only thing he knew out to say in german in the early 80s and it's all he would eat bc of that
also he kept gushing about the crowd and the venue and how much he loves Penn's Peak and the crowd is always wild and how the venue is in the middle of nowhere (which is very correct)
there was also a red flag where Don introduced Dream Warriors with how big Patricia Arquette's boobs were when she was 16  🚩 🚩 🚩 🚩 🚩
also based on everything I've heard from Ted, Dokken and their team don't sound like very nice people erogneorgtgpptt
I wanted to meet Ted afterwards but I didn't wanna push it ;-; he emailed me today offering me a pass at his show in NJ on Friday but I declined bc 1- I would have to leave straight from work 2- I would have to drive through Philadelphia 3- how is he sure they'll actually listen to him this time and 4- it's over 100 miles away so I'd have to invest in so much gas :( sorry Ted i want to but it's it's just not gonna be worth it
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fumpkins · 2 years
Text
Republicans could get behind a green jobs program. Just not this one.
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The future of the Civilian Climate Corps is up in the air. 
In January, 2 weeks after taking workplace, President Joe Biden signed an executive order to develop a jobs corps influenced by among President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s most popular New Deal-period programs, the Civilian Conservation Corps. The initial program, planned to assist the nation make it through the Great Depression, utilized 3 million individuals over its nine-year run start in 1933. Visit a national forest today, and you’ll stroll amongst the program’s tradition of treking routes, camping sites, and lodges. 
Biden prepared to restore the program with a brand-new concentrate on environment modification. Now, employees would not just battle wildfires and enhance access to parks, however likewise set up photovoltaic panels and weatherize structures. The Build Back Better Act consists of billions for moneying the brand-new “Civilian Climate Corps,” however after passing the House, it has actually stalled in the Senate, where it requires the vote of Senator Joe Manchin of West Virginia — a conservative Democrat who has actually opposed parts of the costs — considering that no Republican senator would support it.
Republicans have actually discovered a lot of things to slam in the Build Back Better plan, however they’ve discovered especially extreme words for the Civilian Climate Corps. Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky called the program “pure socialist wish fulfillment” in a speech on the Senate flooring in October. Representative Jim Banks of Indiana explained it in a memo as “​​a cabal of federally funded climate police.”
Amazingly, just over a year back, your average Republican liked the concept of restoring the Civilian Conservation Corps. A survey from October 2020 discovered that 84 percent of Republican citizens, compared to just 78 percent of Democratic ones, supported developing a program to eliminate fires, plant trees, and do preservation work imitated the CCC of the 1930s. About half a year later on, nevertheless, after Biden revealed his program and switched “climate” for “conservation” in the title, ballot reveals that Republican assistance dropped practically in half, to 44 percent.
“It’s just so unfortunate that a program like this has been caught up in these divisive politics,” stated Neil Maher, a history teacher at the New Jersey Institute of Technology and the author of the book Nature’s New Deal, which narrates the history of Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps. “Because if any program was going to help everyone across the political divide, it would be a program like this.”
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A felt pennant from the Civilian Conservation Corps. David J. and Janice L. Frent/Corbis through Getty Images
The dream was that a nationwide service program could bring the nation together. In March, Senator Chris Coons, a Democrat from Delaware, stated at a online forum that he was “hopeful” that reanimating the CCC could get bipartisan assistance. This didn’t come out of no place: Coons had actually co-sponsored a costs to restore the Civilian Conservation Corps in 2015, and the more modest proposition got 7 Republican senators on board. The program supposedly practically made it into the pandemic-relief plan Congress passed last December. 
But the Civilian Climate Corps has actually ended up being yet another victim of polarization. So how did a green jobs program that was expected to unify individuals wind up driving viewpoints even further apart?
It’s possible that Republicans pertained to oppose the program just since a Democrat promoted it. In a 2018 research study, scientists discovered that individuals supported a environment policy more when they were informed their own celebration proposed it — and supported the very same policy less when they were informed it originated from their political challengers.
“The more the CCC is associated with President Biden and other Democrats, the more Republicans are likely to oppose it,” stated Leaf Van Boven, a psychology teacher at the University of Colorado Boulder and among the authors of the research study. “The problem is not so much that Republicans are skeptical of CCC; the problem is that Republicans are skeptical of Democrats.”
But to seal the partisan offer, Biden changed the word “conservation” with “climate” — a notoriously polarizing word — in the program’s name. “If I was an advisor to the Biden White House on communication, the first thing I would tell them was to not use the word ‘climate’ for anything like this,” stated Dietram Scheufele, a interactions teacher at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. It eliminated a concept that resonated throughout the aisle — “conservation” sounds a great deal like “conservative” — and changed it with one “that’s going to make one side cringe,” Scheufele stated. Some specialists recommend that Republicans are most likely to support policies to resolve the crisis if the word “climate” is neglected totally.
Saying “climate” stimulates progressives, obviously. “My students hear the words ‘Civilian Climate Corps’ and they get really excited,” Maher stated. “But that’s not who the president has to convince. He has to convince Senator Manchin, right? And ‘conservation’ goes over much better in West Virginia than ‘climate.’”
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Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez supporters for the Civilian Climate Corps in a speech outside the U.S. Capitol, July 20, 2021. Kevin Dietsch / Getty Images
It didn’t take wish for challengers to begin identifying the proposed Civilian Climate Corps as some type of socialist plot. In May, a popular environment denier appeared on Fox News to decry a CCC proposition backed by Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York, recommending that the Democrats were shopping faithful citizens by providing good-paying jobs. “Are they gonna lose the R in climate ‘corps’ and become ‘climate cops’ and start admonishing people, knocking hamburgers out of their mouth at a park?” he asked. In July, the Wall Street Journal ran a widely-circulated editorial explaining the proposition as a Democratic strategy “to tax you and other Americans to pay your children to spend years lecturing you.”
This type of protection can truly affect how individuals believe. Consider what occurred with the “Green New Deal” — at the end of 2018, prior to it ended up being a rallying cry for progressives, 64 percent of Republican citizens in fact liked the concept. But the talking heads had other strategies. A 2019 research study discovered that the more Republicans became aware of the Green New Deal on Fox News, the less they liked it. Among those who saw Fox News more than as soon as a week, assistance for the Green New Deal plunged from 54 percent to 22 percent in the period of 4 months.
Could Congress still handle to pass financing for the environment corps with no Republican assistance? It’s possible, however Biden would need to reach a compromise with Manchin, who stated outright this week that he wouldn’t support Build Back Better. On the other hand, Manchin supposedly used Biden a offer that would keep much of the environment costs undamaged, so possibly there’s still some space for settlement.
If that doesn’t work, Biden would need to get some Republicans on board. An reliable method, Van Boven recommended, would be quiting the entire concept of a “political win” and finding a Republican political leader to present the policy. “Let Republican leaders propose something like CCC (maybe not mentioning “climate”) and provide credit,” Van Boven stated. That’s much easier stated than done — it needs ready Republican political leaders and a sacrifice from Democrats, who would need to quit control over the program.
Another essential to melting the partisan opposition may be seeing direct what the brand-new CCC — if it handles to pass — in fact does. John Bridgeland, a Republican who led nationwide service efforts for previous President George W. Bush after the 9/11 attacks, supports developing the environment corps. “My experience tells me that when political leaders actually see these programs in action,” seeing individuals at work in parks, seasides, and wetlands, “they take a different and more positive view of these efforts,” he stated. “It can heal a divided nation.”
This story was initially released by Livescience.Tech with the heading Republicans could get behind a green jobs program. Just not this one. on Dec 23, 2021.
New post published on: https://livescience.tech/2022/01/01/republicans-could-get-behind-a-green-jobs-program-just-not-this-one/
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deimosirl · 3 years
Text
man lemon demon fics are fucking weird :)))))
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gravegroves · 3 years
Note
"steve kills neil" hell yeah, now we're talking
Lol, you wanna read it? Here ya go:
The newspaper article never mentions why Steve Harrington drove to Old Cherry Lane one early December morning and caved Neil Hargrove’s skull in with a nail studded bat. Though there are... rumours.
It doesn’t mention Neil's son -- well, it does, but it doesn't mention how the day before, Billy had limped and later crawled his way to Loch Nora, half frozen, barely conscious and almost unrecognisable to his boyfriend when he answered the scrambled knocking on the door.
(It doesn't mention how unsteady Billy was on his feet for weeks after, how the hearing in his right ear was almost completely gone and never really improved much in the years since or the seven -- seven -- broken ribs, the dislocated shoulder or the fractured collarbone.)
It doesn't mention how Steve had held Billy until he passed out from pain and exhaustion, barely able to breathe, but still able to make Steve swear not to take him to a hospital.
It doesn't mention Steve panicking for two hours. Listening to Billy's rasping breaths and not knowing what to do. Or Steve picking Billy up and, in a feat of pure desperation, carried him to his car. How he drove like a bat out of hell to a clinic two towns over and hoping to Christ that they'd be able to help.
It doesn't mention the one nurse who takes one look at Steve clutching Billy's limp hand and understands. Who calls her brother doing his residency at the local hospital and tells him to sneak out an IV bag and to come check out a patient. Or the other nurse who keeps the clinic open and stays with them all night, checking on Billy's concussion every few hours and squeezes Steve's shoulder whenever he looks seconds from breaking apart.
It doesn't mention Steve driving Billy home in the early hours of the morning -- taking him up to his room and laying him on the bed where Billy had laid many times before. How Steve had tried to touch Billy, to comfort him, but there isn't a patch of skin left unmarked or uninjured for him to run his fingers over. How he runs from the room to scream into his fist.
It doesn't mention Steve sprinting to his car, driving in silence -- so carefully. Wanting to get to his destination unfollowed and unbothered.
It doesn't mention Max answering the door, how she watches him standing on the porch with the nail bat clutched in his hand, or how she silently lets Steve move past her into the house and gently push her outside before he closes the door. Or how she walks down to sit on the curb beside their driveway. Refusing to cry.
---
It does mention the screams that startle a neighbour. 
It does mention Susan Hargrove being shoved and locked into Billy's room after the first swing incapacitates her husband.
It does mention that Neil Hargrove's head had resembled more of a pulpy soup by the time Steve hits hard enough to embed the nails into the floor and leaves it there, poking up from the mess like a tombstone.
It does mention Steve walking calmly out onto the lawn, covered in blood and bits of brain to tell Max to go to the Sinclair's and to stay there.
It does mention Steve going home to change before turning up at the bank, draining his account and as much from his parents' as he can manage before he and Billy disappear.
It does mention the last place they were rumoured to have been seen: five states away, sitting in a diner and holding hands across the table.
It does mention the fact that the boys have yet to be found, some four years later.
---
It doesn't mention the people they left behind.
It doesn't mention that Nancy Wheeler chooses to abandon her dreams of becoming a journalist. That publishers are only ever interested in her stories if she's willing to talk about Steve Harrington. Her ex boyfriend. The Killer King of Hawkins High.
It doesn't mention how Steve's parents sell the house and leave Hawkins for good. How his father loses his job and his mother her bankroll. How they get divorced and never speak again and it's like their little charade of a family had never existed at all.
It doesn't mention that Tommy and Carol never regain any significant social standing at Hawkins High or that they leave the town not long after graduation. They are the couple that hung out with a killer and his suspected accomplice, possible gay lover, and in Hawkins, that's all they'll ever be.
It doesn't mention how Jim Hopper spends sleepless nights talking himself out of tampering with evidence. How one day, in desperation, he asks El to find either of the boys, but only gets a shake of her head in response and a firm: "Better like this."
It doesn't mention how Susan Hargrove, soon to be Mayfield once again, moves herself and her daughter to a different house. How she tries to repair the relationship with her daughter as best as she can, but the damage is mostly done. 
It doesn't mention that Claudia Henderson cries herself to sleep for many nights after, thinking of all the times she let that boy near her precious Dusty.
It doesn't mention how Dustin still talks into his walkie talkie at night, tuned to a private frequency that never answers him back. How he buys a bottle of Farrah Fawcett hair spray and uses it religiously despite varied results. How sometimes, when the party meets up, he and Max will lock eyes and share a private moment of pain that neither of them can talk about out loud.
It doesn't mention the envelope Max receives two days before her graduation and three weeks before she moves out for good. It contains a photograph of two young men kissing in front of a huge ornate building, holding up their hands with matching rings.
It doesn't mention how Max smiles at the writing on the back, tucks it away for safekeeping and wonders if she can save enough to go to Europe before her first summer break at college. How Max already knows Dustin will join her.
---
It doesn't mention that Billy and Steve live happily ever after.
But they do.
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doubleleoenergy · 3 years
Text
ii. Serial Killer, Lolita Series
Sneak up on you really quiet. Whisper, "Am I what your heart desires?" I can be your ingenue.
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of erection and male masturbation, lewd thoughts, drinking, mentions of domestic violence, murder, and divorce
Words: 2893
Summary: Andy spends an evening with y/n and learns about her hopes, dreams, and sexual relations
Andy Barber was straightening his tie against his grey button down when he walked into the hallway from his bedroom, the smell of bacon wafting through his nostrils as he followed the scent to the kitchen.
“Good morning, Andy.” Y/N’s voice held that sickening sweet seduction he had gotten used to over the past few days. It was seven o’clock in the morning, and the fact that she sounded so chipper had Andy amused. His son was not a morning person, neither were any of the other boys staying with them.
He turns the corner towards the kitchen counter and takes in the sight of her. She’s ready for her first day as an intern for him, though her outfit doesn’t seem to be the most conservative for an attorney’s office. Her tight black skirt with white lines is barely covering her ass, and there’s a small slit up the right side that is showing more skin, if that’s even possible. She’s paired it with a simple black tank top that is cropped to reveal just the tiniest bit of skin on her abdomen, his eyes trailing down her toned legs to her black strappy stilettos that finish off the look. Andy has to look away and busy himself with his briefcase in order to stop himself from coming in his trousers.
“Morning, y/n.” He chokes out, reorganizing the files in a folder he had pulled out. Y/N slides a plate beside him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she walks directly to his side, holding out a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
He takes the cup in his hand appreciatively, eyeing the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast that she had slid over to him. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do any of this.” Andy takes a sip of coffee before setting his mug down beside the plate, picking up the fork and knife before diving into the meal.
“I know I didn’t have to, but we can’t let you go to the office on an empty stomach, right boss?” She teased, her manicured nails tapping gently on the counter next to him. God how he wished to feel those nails scratching against his scalp.
“Well thank you.” He responds, trying not to think about how she had just called him boss and how it made it incredibly wrong to be thinking about her like he had. The past few days had been rough, watching y/n saunter around the house in her sinful outfits, teasing the other boys and stealing glances in Andy’s direction. He had fucked into his fist every night since he saw her in that damn bikini.
As Andy finished eating y/n cleaned up the dishes, drying them and putting them away where they belonged in the appropriate cabinets and drawers. She was eager for her first day in the office, and honestly happy to be working somewhere where she was already familiar with the boss. 
“That was great, y/n, thank you again.” He wiped his mouth off on a napkin before pulling his briefcase shut, y/n taking his plate and mug and cleaning them in the sink before drying her hands.
“Anytime, I appreciate the carpooling to work as well.” Her fingers reached for her purse on the edge of the counter, following Andy out into the garage and sliding into the passenger seat of his pristine Audi. It was much flashier than her ten-years-too-old Ford Focus. She could get used to this lifestyle for the rest of the summer.
Andy and y/n spent the entire drive to the office making small talk, while Andy tried his hardest not to glance at her supple thighs in her thin skirt. Soon enough they arrived at the office, Andy gesturing for y/n to follow him inside the large office building.
Passing through the doors, Andy says a quick hello to the colleagues he passed, waving them over to gather inside their large conference room.
“Alright everyone, I’ll make this quick. This is y/n, she’s our new intern for the summer so please, be kind and help her to get the most out of her time here.” Andy’s eyes scanned the crowd of people, noticing the way the men in the office all lusted over her, their eyes dark with attraction.
As Andy dismissed everyone, Neal fucking Loguidice strides forward with confidence, extending his hand out to y/n’s. “Neal Loguidice, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Y/N seems to be enjoying the attention, standing up straighter as she takes his hand in hers. “Thank you, Neal. The pleasure is all mine.”
“How about I show you around the office? You know, as an assistant district attorney I can answer any questions you have about this place.” Before Andy can protest, Neal puts a hand on the small of y/n’s back, guiding her out of the conference room and walking her down the hall. Andy hates the way he grits his teeth, the hand not holding his briefcase forming into a tight fist by his side. Why was he even jealous? He had no reason to be, didn’t he?
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Andy spent the rest of the morning answering phone calls and meeting with clients, though he couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on y/n anytime he left his office. She had picked up lunch for the entire department, created copies for a staff meeting, and was unfortunately still being followed around by that slithering snake Neal. Who did he think he was?
He tried not to let it get to him, but as he walked past y/n’s makeshift desk after a coffee break, he watched as Neal leaned over her. He was teaching her how to scan documents to their respective folders, his eyes staring directly down y/n’s shirt to catch a glimpse of her perky tits. That was it, he had had enough.
“Neal.” Andy clenched his jaw as he spoke, watching as the man’s eyes lingered briefly still on y/n’s tits before meeting his gaze. “A word in my office. Now.” He barked.
Neil walked with confidence into Andy’s office, shutting the door behind him before slumping into the chair in front of Andy’s desk, a smug smile plastered on his face. “What can I do for you, Andrew?” Neal challenged, crossing his left leg over his right.
“You need to keep your eyes and your hands to yourself with y/n, it’s disgusting and she’s one of my son’s best friends. I’m not going to let you disrespect her like that, and neither would HR if they found out.” He growled, his eyes growing dark. Neal puts his hands up in protest before he stands, backing towards the door.
“Whoa, those are some big accusations without any evidence, Barber. I was just showing our intern around.” He’s still got that smug look on his face that Andy wishes to smack off him, though he knows he can’t. Neal opens the office door, walking out and heading back to his own office, leaving y/n to work by herself at her desk.
It was fucked up that he was lecturing Neal about the way he looked at y/n while knowing he’d jerked off into his hand every night fantasizing about her. But he wasn’t acting on anything, it was just some harmless fantasies, he was newly divorced after all. This was just lust, wasn’t it?
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The rest of the day went by fast, Andy moving from meeting to meeting with clients and y/n working diligently on getting acquainted with their latest cases and filing the paperwork into the appropriate folders on their server.
Andy shut his office door a little after six o’clock, locking it behind him before strolling over to where y/n sat at her desk, texting on her phone.
“Are you ready to head out for the evening?” He asked, watching as she stood up beside him, only a couple of inches shorter than him in her heels.
“Yes, Jacob just texted me. Him and the guys are out bar hopping with some, as he put it, ‘absolute tens’ and won’t be home until late.” She follows him out of the office building, watching as he locks the front doors behind them before sauntering over to the passenger side of his car.
“That’s fine, why don’t I order us some takeout, I know a little place by the house that serves the best pad thai.” Andy and y/n get into the car as he starts it up, the vehicle roaring to life under them. “I would love that, thank you.” 
It’s a quiet ride back to the office, y/n scrolling through Instagram as the radio plays softly, the car filled with the lyrics to a Lady Gaga song. Andy parks the car back in its usual spot in the garage before walking inside and dropping his briefcase on the counter.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower, I’ll order the food when I get out and then we can relax, I’m sure today was a lot for you to take in.” Andy assured, loosening the tie around his neck.
“That sounds great, thank you Andy.” Y/N bounds up the stairs as well, letting her body muscles relax under the heat of the shower. Downstairs, Andy is doing the same, except he’s got a cold shower running to rid him of his thoughts from the day. How y/n’s skirt would ride up as she bent down to pull a copy from the copier, the way her lips pursed, and brows furrowed perfectly as she focused on her computer screen. How did her little actions send his brain into such a tizzy?
It wasn’t long before he had calmed his thoughts and pulled on a pair of grey sweats and a navy-blue t-shirt, calling the restaurant and placing a delivery order for two pad thai dinners. As Andy waited for the food to arrive he sat down on the couch, fumbling with his phone until he heard footsteps from the stairs, his eyes trailing over the silky baby blue short shorts and front-tied top that barely covered her breasts, her nipples hard through the fabric.
“Is the food here yet?” She asked, plopping down beside Andy on the couch, her leg just barely grazing him as she sat. Just as Andy went to reply the doorbell rang, immediately standing up and grabbing his wallet from the counter. He pulled the heavy front door open, greeting the gentleman and handing over the money, including a generous tip, in exchange for the bag of food. 
As he walked back into the living room, he noticed y/n had gotten up and placed two bottles of beer on the coffee table, careful to include the thick grey coasters below them.
“Thanks.” He mumbled, emptying the contents of the bag onto the table before handing over one of the takeout boxes to her. She opened it delicately, her fork twisting into the container before pulling out some of the contents and chewing it thoughtfully.
They both sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the scraping of their silverware and the occasional movement of a beer bottle on and off the coasters. “So…” Andy started, swallowing a bite of his dish. “What made you want to be an attorney? S’not very often that I see someone interested in the profession.” Or someone like her, he meant, though he tried not to come off as if a woman like her couldn’t do the job.
There was an expression that flashed across y/n’s face, something he hadn’t seen yet, a twinge of sadness? “Life circumstances. I actually want to be a defense attorney, specifically.” Andy finished taking a swig from his beer, setting it back down.
“Interesting, are you from the area? Or, at least, close to Columbia?” He questioned.
“No, I’m from Ohio actually. It’s a shit place, only really good for driving through to get to your destination.” Y/N set her half-eaten container on the table, sitting back against the couch.
“Your family must miss you, with you all the way at Columbia.”
“My aunt and I talk every day, s’not much to miss.” Y/N responded; brows knitted into a frown.
“That’s not true, I’m sure she misses you. What about your parents? I’m sure they miss you when you’re gone too.”
That struck a nerve with y/n, she didn’t talk about her family to anyone, she hadn’t even told Jacob or the other guys about her family life. Something about Andy made her feel comfortable, though, her eyes focused on her lap while she picked at a loose hangnail.
“Well, that’s kinda why I wanted to become a defense attorney. My uh-my dad used to beat the shit out of my mom when I was younger.” Her face flashes a few different emotions, pain, anger, guilt, as she swallows a lump in her throat. “Don’t really know why he would’ve been with her in the first place, what’s the point of wanting to be with someone if you just want to pummel their face every day?” Andy listened intently; his food abandoned on the coffee table as well.
Y/N isn’t sure whether to continue with the story or not, deciding she’d already gotten through the first part, might as well finish. “I went to my aunt’s one day, I was nine at the time, and my aunt got a call and she was…beside herself.” She pauses, lips pressed in a grim line. “I guess my mom wanted to leave my dad and he went ballistic, loaded his pistol and emptied a few shots into her. She didn’t survive, of course, and my dad got life without parole.” Y/N cleared her throat.
“Anyhow, I went to live with my aunt, excelled in school, got nearly a full ride to Columbia and have dreamed of becoming a defense attorney for domestic violence and sexual assault victims ever since. I think I’d make a damn good attorney. I’d love to see the look on the guilty faces as I get justice for their victims.” Her voice regained its confidence, her body relaxing back as she finally took a sip from her beer, trying to look unphased.
“I…” Andy started, y/n waving her hand in dismissal. “It’s all good, I’ve moved past it, mostly. You don’t have to say the whole ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ shit. I’ve heard it all before.” Y/N took another long swig from her beer, swallowing it before pointing in his direction.
“What about you, what made you divorce Mrs. Barber? Jacob doesn’t mention her at all, only that you divorced last December.” Andy lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding during her entire story.
“Just wasn’t meant to be. We’d been together our whole lives practically and I woke up one day and realized I didn’t love her anymore. We were always fighting, and it wasn’t worth it to try and make it work.” Why he was explaining this to a twenty-two-year-old friend of his son, he didn’t know, but she had just shared something so intimate with him that he felt it was only fair.
“Well, it’s her loss.” The usual sensuality in her tone is back, her lips curling into a smile around her beer bottle. “You’re still young enough and fit, I’m sure you’ll find a pretty woman to meet your every need.” The words made his cock twitch, a chuckle leaving his lips to ease the sexual tension in the air.
“Well thank you. What about you? I see how my son and the other boys eye you.” And himself, but he’d leave that out. “They said your off limits and not the relationship type.” Andy didn’t know if it was appropriate to mention the conversation he had with Rashad and Collin the other day, but it seemed from y/n’s smile she was well aware of how they viewed her.
“Oh, I’ve had my fair share of boys. Watching them fall one by one.” She teased, running a hand through her hair. “I’m kinda like a sweet serial killer on the warpath, I like to have boys wrapped around my finger, but I am fully in control of who gets to move past a few stolen kisses. And frankly, there aren’t many that do” Her tone is honest, Andy licking his lips. I bet a man like me could change that. Before Andy can open his mouth to respond the front door opens, Jacob, Collin, and Rashad bounding in.
“The party’s here!” Rashad cried out, clearly tipsy. The boys stopped in the living room when they saw y/n and Andy, Collin eyeing the takeout on the table.
“Dude can I have some? I’m starving.” Collin announced before picking up y/n’s takeout box, plowing into it with the fork.
“Help yourself, I was actually going to get to bed. Gotta get up early for the internship again.” Y/N slinked seductively off the couch, her eyes meeting Andy’s. “Goodnight, Andy. Thanks for the talk.” He manages to give her a quick goodnight before she’s walking up the stairs, tits bouncing with each step.
Was he slowly being wrapped around her finger like the other boys she mentioned? He didn’t think so, but what he did know is he had yet another outfit of hers to picture her in when he jerked off tonight.
Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx
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Andrew Showing The Foxes His Love Through Actions.
All through “All for the game” we can see how Andrew shows his love through actions. I believe that Andrew does care for his teammates and I know I; m not the only one, so I wrote this. (Also, I will just forget about the choking scene because N*ra did their relationship so badly, like- ugh, that’s for another time)
Tw: Curse words, references to the foxes pasts, punches, vomit, Riko, mentions of scars, mentions of nightmares, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of past self-harm, probably many spelling and grammar mistakes.
Allison.
It happened during a game, the foxes were winning and the other team were getting exasperated because they could not get past the backliners and if they could, Andrew would not let them score.
During the last minutes of the game, a player from the other team made Allison trip on purpose and “accidentally” kicked her.
Everyone else were too far away from them.
Except Andrew.
When the referee called the fault, Andrew was already there, punching the guy resulting in him taking a step back and falling to the ground.
As the referee gave him a yellow card, Andrew extended his arm to help Allison up.
And if he asked Renee how bad the injury was, no one had to know. 
Matt.  
When Matt was visiting his mom during summer vacations, they decided to go shopping, there he found the most adorable hoodies. It was orange on the outside and the inside had a really soft and warm fabric, which was white and had orange paw prints. But the best part was that the hoodie had fox ears.
Matt obviously bought nine of them.
“Disgusting.” Andrew had said, which Matt had obviously expected, so he thought nothing of it.
Everyone wore them, Aaron had given his to Katelyn, except Andrew.
But when winter came, Matt saw Andrew get out of his dorm room with the hoodie on, pulling it tighter against himself when a cold air blast came.
“Not a word.” Andrew deadpanned, pointing at Matt, when he noticed him, before leaving the tower.
Matt smiled the whole day.
Dan.
During one of their dinner bankets, the foxes were placed into pairs and told to socialize with the other teams. The pairs were meticulously design so that ‘the monsters’ (minus Nicky) interacted. This meant every ‘monster’ was placed with an upperclassmen. Andrew got Dan.
So when they Dan were talking to some players from Penn State, the Ravens decided to join.
They began talking sh¡t about Dan’s time as a stripper.
Andrew didn’t say or do a thing, knowing Dan was capable on fighting her own fights, she is the first female captain on Exy, but he does stand to the side, throwing a death glare to them.
But when one of them decide it’s a good idea to slap her in the butt when she is distracted....Andrew intervienes.
He grabs the Raven’s wrist, twisting it before pushing him into a table.
Dan is surprised, to say the least, but she knows that the Raven will get a worst fate if she leaves Andrew like that. 
Calmly, she tells him she is okay and that the Raven didn’t touch her and that he can look and see for himself.
The latter does the trick, Andrew turns his murderous glare at Dan so she turns in place extending her arms showing him that the Raven did nothing to her.
Andrew calms after a while and stands up, glancing at the Raven one more time. 
The rest of the night Andrew does not leave Dan’s side until they head back home. Dan attaches herself to that memory forever. 
Renee.
Renee and Andrew sparred at least once a week, more whenever Andrew was having a bad day.
Such as that moment, Aaron’s trial was just around the corner and Andrew was not having it.
He went to Bee’s twice but it still wasn’t enough, so him and Renee spared.
But today was a specially not good day, Aaron’s lawyer had said that he’d have to speak about what happened that day.
Renee knew that Andrew was far more on his head than n the present so she wasn’t mad when Andrew threw her down to the mat and her hip bumped onto the floor.
For the first time since they spared that day, Renee saw Andrew actually see her.
His eyes were wide, probably surprised of what happened so she reassured him that she was okay and that it didn't hurt much and that she’d had much worse before.
But he didn’t listen to her and got off the mat.
Renee stood up and went for her water bottle, thinking that Andrew had gone to let out some steam alone.
But then he came back with an ice package in hand and gave it to her.
Renee thank him, placed it on her hip and sat near him while he starred to the distance in moral support.
Nicky.
Nicky wasn’t one to get sick often, but when it happened, he really got sick.
So when one day he wakes up with a headache and all of his bones ache, he knows he’s in trouble.
Not wanting anyone to be worried about him, Nicky tries to stand up, just for a blast of nausea hits him and he has to run to the bathroom before he pukes on their bedroom.
When he is done throwing his guts out, he brushes his teeth and walks out to the kitchen for a glass of water. But when he gets there, a water bottle is out with a bottle of Pepto-bismol beside it. 
In the middle of his confusion, Andrew and Aaron appear with a thermometer, a blanket and pills.
“Go lay down,” Andrew says with an uncharacteristically softness in his tone.
Nicky complies and walks towards the couch, Andrew protectively trailing behind him with his phone and a blanket.
“I don’t have any class today, Aaron has two in an hour but then he’ll be back. Tea?” Nicky is perplexed at this attention given by his cousins so he is only able to nod and think who were these people and what did they do with his cousins.
The rest of the day, the twins (mostly Andrew) take his temperature, give him his meds, cook for him and help him out whenever he needs it.
Nicky sleeps with a smile that day.
The next day, he feels much better, but because the sickness messed with his feelings, he has an urge to hug his cousins.
He asks for permission and surprisingly, Andrew says yes.
Nicky keeps the hug fast and makes sure he doesn’t make Andrew feel trapped.
He still cries at the memory. 
Aaron.
Out of all the foxes, Aaron is the one with the most difficult things to study. He is in fact studying pre-med.
So during the finals week, he is the most stressed.
There is this one class in which Aaron has been having the most trouble with and if he doesn’t pass the test, he’ll have to repeat the class. So to say that he was stressed was an understatement.
He begins studying for that class a week and a half before the exam is and the day before the exam, he skips gym, morning practice and afternoon practice.
He studies for the exam the whole day and had to be reminded to take breaks for the bathroom and meals constantly.
He is also forced by Andrew to sleep when he woke up at 3 am and Aaron was still awake, studying.
Aaron keeps thinking of the material as he tries to sleep, and isn’t able to until 4 am, he dreams on the material the whole night.
When he opens his eyes, he sees that the sun is much higher than usual, worried, he checks the time on his phone just for his fears to be true, his alarm didn’t sound and he slept through the whole exam.
He doesn’t even care to change and runs to the building. The door to his classroom is closed and the professor is not there.
“Can’t stop thinking about the exam? Me neither.” He hears one of his classmates say behind him.
“I didn’t even do it.” He says through his teeth.
“What do you mean? I saw you there.”
Aaron is confused so he asks more classmates if they saw him, and all of them said that yes, they saw him there.
Hurriedly he got to the tower and confronted Andrew if it was his doing and if he did the exam for him like they did in high school.
“I did.” was Andrew’s only response before walking out.
Aaron got a B⁺ a grade much better than if he had done it by himself.
Kevin.
After Riko died, his and Andrew’s deal could be done, but they had grown close, they had passed so much time together since Kevin escaped Evermore.
Neither of them would say it out loud, but they were each other’s best friend.
So when Kevin learned that his things would be thrown away from the Nest, he went into a spiral.
But when Andrew asked and Kevin couldn’t say why, Andrew made it his mission to know.
Neil had a few assumptions, but when he had been at the Nest, he had been too focused on his injuries that he wasn’t a good resource.
So Andrew contacted someone he never thought he would be speaking to. Jean.
Jean told Andrew of Kevin’s old bedroom and the things Kevin had to hide away from Riko because if he found them, Kevin would be punished. Yet he didn’t know what these secret things were. 
Thankfully, Jean knew where the hiding spot was.
The next day, Andrew took the Maserati in the early morning without a word (Neil knew but he had to act as if he didn’t), and made his way to Evermore.
Once there, he had to sneak inside, but given that the Nest was desolated for classes it was easy.
When Andrew got to where Jean had told him where the hiding spot was, he found a small shoe box.
Opening it, he found three things and Andrew immediately understood Kevin’s spiraling.
When he got back to the tower, he directly went to his dorm. Inside were Neil, Nicky and Kevin watching a game.
Andrew signaled Neil and the latter made Nicky follow him out.
“Where were you? You missed morning practice,” Kevin said as soon as they were alone.
Without a word, Andrew took the shoebox out of his bag and carefully gave it to Kevin, who took a shaky breath at the sight of it.
As soon as it was in Kevin’s hands, he opened it and carefully took the three things which were the last things he had from his mother.
A woman’s ring, a record player and a photograph. 
Tears immediately sprang from Kevin’s eyes and Andrew decided he would give Kevin his space.
“Thank you,” Kevin said as he opened the door, Andrew just nodded feeling a weird warmness in his chest.
Neil.
Andrew shows Neil his love in so many ways, helping him out during panic attacks, reminding him that he’s safe, holding his hand, kissing him, sharing a cigarette in the roof, stroking his hair when they cuddle and so much more.
But the most important thing Andrew does for Neil is letting the latter see his vulnerability and trust him with it.
It starts with simple things, Andrew letting Neil sleep with him in the same bed, cuddle together, sit on Andrew’s lap (and vice versa), etc.
But it slowly begins to increase, let Neil stay whenever he gets a nightmare and/or a panic attack, let Neil take care of him when he gets sick, let Neil cuddle on top of Andrew, let himself seek comfort in Neil, Andrew letting Neil take his armbands off, see and touch them.
It takes a long time, but Neil doesn’t mind, those little things are more than enough for him and he doesn’t expect more from Andrew, but welcomes this little things and holds onto them with all of him.
Bonus:
Wymack. 
Wymack is always threatening his foxes with running marathons and says that their personal stuff is over his pay rate, but oh doesn’t he care for them.
He works hard for them so they can have good things and safe and comfortable area for them, that’s why he had the walls on the showers made.
He loves the foxes, and they love them too.
One morning, he had to organize some piles of paperwork, but he had a stressing week and the night before he hadn’t been able to sleep good, so after a while of organizing paperwork, he decides he deserves a break.
The foxes are supposed to be in class so he doesn’t expect them until the afternoon. He goes to the lounge and lays down on the couch to “rest his eyes”.
He falls asleep almost instantly.
Andrew had forgotten something on the court after their morning practice so he decided to go now, he had finished his classes and knew that Wymack had to organize some paperwork, he was surprised to see the old man asleep.
Andrew could remember his initial fear of the man when he saw him the first time, he was tall, broad and serious, but he didn’t let it show. He had been waiting for the man to do something to him, but instead the man had respected his boundaries and didn’t ask when Andrew broke into his home in the late night and made himself a pot of hot cocoa (which had been bought for this reason).
So quietly, Andrew went to Wymack’s office and organized his paperwork, marking those who were missing one or two things with a post it and leaving right after he was done, not expecting the man to know it was him.
When Wymack woke up and walked back to his office he was surprised to see that his paperwork was organized. He mentally questioned who it was but when he read the post its he immediately knew it was Andrew, he knew all of his children’s handwritings, and made sure he bought Andrew’s favorite  chocolate ice cream.
Abby. 
Abby was the first one, apart from Bee, to see his scars. 
The first time she had tried to say something but she had seen something in his face because he didn’t and let him place the armbands back on.
After that she looked away when he took them off and just glanced at them for a second to make sure there were no track marks before turning around again so he could put the armbands back on.
(She knew there would not be track marks, so she just looked at them so there would be no new ones, he cared for her foxes.)
And during the physical exam, she made sure not to touch him more than necessary. 
Abby checks on Bee asking if he’s okay, she never expects an in depth answer, just a confirmation and she feels relief when Bee tells her that he is getting better.
On one of his sessions with Bee, she suggests Andrew that he should tell someone about his scars, preferably someone who has already seen them. 
Andrew knows what Bee is trying and Bee knows that Andrew knows and Andrew knows Bee knows that Andrew knows.
In the end, he does tell Abby. He keeps it vague and watches her reaction, waiting for a small expression change, but thankfully Abby just listens, and shows no pity, knowing that Andrew would hate it and does not comment.
When he’s done, she just nods and thanks him for telling her and when Andrew leaves, Abby lets the tears she had retained out.
She keeps the truth guarded with her life, glad Andrew trust her enough to say this.
Bee.
It is not a secret that Andrew sees Bee like his mother figure, out of all the woman in his life she was the only one that he didn’t feel the need to be unlike himself, she loved him just the way he was.
It was scary at first, his mind supplied that it would be just like Cass, he just had to wait for the other shoe to come down.
It never did.
So he found himself driving to her office when he needed to understand something or he was just not in a good mental place.
He would also call her when he didn’t have the energy to move.
She was on one of his sides during Aarons trial, helping him keep his cool when he felt like he needed to punch something.
When it had been his turn to say his testimony, he had looked at her and Neil, remembering that they would be with him and that they would show no pity to him.
So the day before Mother’s day, when him and Neil were shopping for clothes, and he saw a coffee mug in the shape of a bee hive that read “To the Bee-st mom” he had to buy it.
The next day he arrives to her office and leaves the cup before leaving without a word.
It fills Bee’s heart when she reads it but knows best than to comment of it on their next session.
But if she uses it everyday and it becomes her favorite mug, no one has to know.
Look at me posting three days in a row, I’m proud of myself ngl. Anyways, have this, hope you like it, I tried my best and this is honestly the longest “headcanon” I’ve ever written.
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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years
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Just A Dream Away
Chapter 1/13 read here on ao3!
my piece for @harringrovebigbang!
Art and moodboard from my amazing team, @monochromegee and @shewritesdirty respectively, to come soon!
~~~~
Six months. Six months and twelve days.
That’s how long Billy has been in the hospital. In a coma. His health rapidly deteriorating.
After one month it was required he be put on a ventilator. Two and his wounds started getting infected. By month three, the hospital asked that a representative be chosen for him, just in case he didn’t pull through.
Neil Hargrove refused. Barked into the receiver something along the lines of, “What do I care if the boy wanted to go and get himself killed?” It was entirely defensive, his voice cracking as he finished his sentence, but the hospital still never contacted him again, not for updates or bills or anything. His wife was far too busy taking care of one grieving child and a lazy husband already to worry about an additional burden.
All of Billy’s extended family was still in California, had written him off years before they’d even left home for Indiana anyways. The moment his mother walked out the door, nobody else wanted him either, so they were off the table too.
The town of Hawkins had been turned inside out by the deaths of more than thirty community members, some of which were still being reported as missing so many months later. Nobody had the time, or in many cases the heart, to take care of the lone survivor.
That left only one person. The one who’d been taking care of him even before he’d fallen into a coma. The one who’d understood him better than anyone else, who’d given him a chance, who’d loved him more than anything.
Steve gets a call from the hospital, the way he is usually woken up these days. Every other morning, as soon as visitation opens, a nurse calls him for a quick update. The duties of a representative for someone unconscious, for his Billy in a coma.
He’s beyond exhausted, dragging himself to and from Hawkins General day in and day out, sometimes bringing Max or a few of the other kids along with him. Mostly because every day is the same thing, walking through the halls, facing the polite smiles from nurses who deal with this on the daily, don’t understand the way it feels to see the one you love on that bed.
If he does hear anything new, it’s usually not good news. He knows Billy is getting worse, but still he sits in that room for countless hours, watching and waiting for the moment he’s struck with a miracle, and he comes back to him.
The hospital is not quite as patient though, and since about month four of Billy’s hospital stay, they’d been encouraging Steve to consider his wards right to die. After so much time had passed by without signs of improvement, the nurses had started hesitating in the doorway when he was around, and offering kind little suggestions that were supposed to push him towards the decision to let Billy go.
Things like, “It’s not really him anymore, honey.” and, “He’s getting worse by the minute, poor thing.”, and Steve’s favorite, the one that made him leave the hospital in tears, “If he wanted to wake up, he would have done it by now.”
But no matter how true what they were saying may have been, Steve really did not want to hear it. The only reason the thought of letting Billy go had ever crossed the minds of doctors and nurses was because of what was on the news, all these up and coming stories about hospital ethics committees that were popping up all over the country recently.
They were being selfish, willing to let Billy die just because they were scared they wouldn’t be able to stand the heat that would come from keeping an eighteen year old boy on life support for as long as they had. Whether or not they actually thought they could save him was a question for another day.
So they would mail Steve countless papers and claims and pamphlets to try to reason with him, to persuade him that the best thing to do was to kill Billy because they didn’t want to deal with him anymore. It made him sick to his stomach, to think that people who were supposedly trained to help people were so hellbent on giving up on a patient.
He wonders sometimes, if they wouldn’t be so hasty to pull the plug had he been an easier case. If his father was more supportive and his biological mother present, or if the government hadn’t worked so hard to cover up the origin of his injuries. Maybe even if his representative was a nice young woman instead.
But there’s nothing he can do about it, so he just crumples the papers and ignores their premature condolences, and goes to visit Billy at every moment he can.
The drive to the hospital that particular morning feels like it takes a whole day instead of the 20 minutes the route actually is, Steve feeling like he’s suspended in time. It doesn’t seem real, taking the stairs up to the second floor, elevators were a no go after the free fall he took at Starcourt, and taking a visitor sticker and a bunch of papers from the woman at the reception desk.
He’s walked this route more times than he can count, but this time he can feel that something is wrong, different. On the top of the very first sheet the desk lady hands him, in bold black letters, are the printed words “Right-to-Die” and Steve already knows what is coming.
The woman gives him a half sympathetic look and reads off her scripted spiel. “The Hargrove boy has been unresponsive for six months now, with no signs of improvement in his condition. The recently instituted hospital ethics board wants you to seriously consider the contents of these forms.”
The words are so hollow, the look on her face mostly bored. Steve guesses this same speech was probably given to a thousand other people who’d come through this hospital, and it makes him feel nauseated just listening to it, her less than genuine pity as she reads off her clipboard, making it seem like she doesn’t even care what she is asking of him.
“It’s of course among your rights as representative to say no, but we want to remind you that he has no quality of life being artificially kept alive, and it might be best to let him go.”
“No, they told me he couldn’t feel anything. He’s not suffering.” Steve insists, and as much as he believes that he is right, the confidence in his voice is false. This was something he’d been thinking about every day for the last half a year. “You’ve kept him alive this long, right? That’s got to mean something.”
“Still, this is about him. We just want you to think about if keeping him alive is the right thing to do anymore when we can’t be sure what he’s going through. When he isn’t himself.”
Of course this was something he’d considered in his own mind, six months is a long time, and it was inevitable that a few times on his worst days, he’d have to think about pulling the plug. It was just so different hearing this nurse who didn’t know Billy insisting on it, it was just so impersonal, and it made him think about the hospital's greed, and how they probably just wanted to save money on ventilators and open up another bed.
Without saying another word to her, Steve walks away without the clipboard of papers, and off to room B-216. Of course he'd known this was coming. They’d been trying to drop hints since the moment Billy stopped being able to breathe on his own, but he’d been in denial. As long as Billy's heart was still beating, Steve had hope that he would recover if the doctors would just try.
Still, as he sits down in the chair next to Billy’s bed, he decides he doesn’t want to call Max today. He takes the desk woman's advice, as angry as it made him, and takes the time to truly reflect on the boy in that bed, with the feeding tube down his throat, the respirator breathing for him beside his bed, the IV in his neck, there because the veins in his arms had been so overused.
His hair is much longer now, just past his collarbones, but without maintenance, his blonde curls are knotted and dull. His skin is unnaturally pale, his freckles faded to nothing, and his whole body is littered with angry, dark red scars. The hole in the center of his chest still isn’t all the way healed, and the nurses are constantly fighting to keep it free of infection.
When he wakes up, they say he will be in immense pain and that he will have forgotten how to walk and talk and probably even breathe on his own. There was a chance too that his memory will have gaps in it, which could mean anything from forgetting what happened to him in July, to not even knowing his own name.
Basically if, no- when he wakes up, he won’t really be Billy.
Steve had always heard about and seen in the movies coma patients who twitch their fingers or moved their eyes, or who really give any signs of life, miraculously waking up and being themselves again, but Billy, he had only done the opposite.
At some point, he has to accept that Billy won’t be like one of those other patients, and, in the condition he is in, all pale skin and open wounds and zero signs of responsiveness, they were only prolonging his death. They had tried just about everything they could thanks to Steve’s willingness to cover the expenses, and, although he didn’t want to believe it, maybe just couldn’t accept it quite yet, it was, as the nurse had said, time to think about letting Billy go.
Not today though. He’d spend today with him at the very least, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind while he still could. The nurses used to say, when Billy had first been admitted and they still thought there was a chance of recovery, that Steve and Max, whenever she could come, should try talking to him, and Steve always did.
He never really has a whole lot to say, not since everything has been calming down recently. There were no more funerals to attend, no more grieving families to take a hot dish and his condolences to. The kids didn’t need him to watch them anymore, and Family Video had decided to lay him off until he didn’t have to make daily hospital commutes and he could work again. Basically, Steve’s entire world was Billy.
So it was only fair that Billy was what he usually talked about, reminiscing about everything they’d gotten to do together before the accident, telling him about what was happening with his sister now that she was getting older, and giving him updates on how many days it had been and how much he missed and loved him. One of the nurses had heard him say that once, seen him lean forwards and press a kiss to Billys forehead, but she had only turned away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.
Today though, it was much harder than usual to think of something to say to him. He always tried to leave all of the bad stuff at the door, didn’t think it would do Billy any good if he could even hear, to be listening to him always complaining or moping about their situation, but with death weighing heavy on his mind, what else was there to think about?
The anger and the remorse and the depression would be for when he went home tonight and downed a whole bottle of Fireball, Billy’s favorite whiskey, and called Robin drunk off his ass at two in the morning to tell her about how terrible he felt.
It was because he loved Billy with all of his heart that he wouldn’t put him through that. Even if it hurt more than anything else to see his love broken down and dying, which was, in Steve’s opinion, the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he always wore a smile on his face every day he walked into that hospital room.
As hard as that was, and as guilty as it made him feel to admit, Billy's sickness wasn’t the only thing making Steve miserable. He had also been through some unimaginable things himself while trapped in the Starcourt mall, and he didn't come out the other side the same.
Nightmares plagued him constantly, so that when he would eventually come back home from the hospital, he didn’t sleep more than fifteen minutes through the night. Being alone for too long warped his perception of reality, made him think everyone he knew and loved was gone, that he’d been abandoned or all his friends killed. He would constantly call to check on them, most of the time drunk and panicking, but they’d stopped picking up after the first few times. There were so many triggers too that could send him back to that night in an instant, where he’d just get stuck again.
And perhaps that is exactly why he can’t let Billy go so easily, because even if it is heartbreaking and makes him feel so empty inside being there with a version of his Billy who couldn’t speak to him or who he couldn’t hold, he was still alive. If he died now, Steve would have nothing. It would be no different from the losses everyone had suffered, the death of the chief of police and at least thirty other community members robbing them of their soundness of mind.
Letting go of Billy would just be another blow, to him and to the tight-knit community who had come so close together after the accident that rocked their little town. You wouldn't be able to tell from the fact that his room was always empty except for Steve or his sister, but the papers had revered him as a hero. Who he’d become after being hospitalized meant his death wouldn't just affect loved ones.
But more than any of that, he just didn’t want to give up on him. Pulling the plug meant sacrificing so many more moments they could have together, losing the chance to move on from what had happened. How could Steve ever know when it was the right time to do that?
When was it safe to say that Billy wouldn’t ever recover, and that they were just stretching out the inevitable? When could he feel right in letting his very best friend and the love of his life die? Deep down, past his initial reaction of shock and heartbreak, he knows he’ll never truly be ready to say goodbye, but that now was that time regardless.
Just like the nurses said, he wasn’t really Billy anymore. Who he’d been was a teenage boy with too much energy to burn, always getting into trouble and always in motion, bouncing his knee, twisting the ring on his middle finger or the locket around his neck, chain smoking cigarette after cigarette. It used to drive Steve insane how he wouldn’t sit still for anything, but now he would give anything just to have that back.
There was no personality left in him, no stupid jokes to cheer Steve up, no pestering his sister and her friends like a big brother does, nothing left in him at all that made him distinctly Billy. Steve wondered if maybe he had already given up.
If maybe, Billy wasn’t even in there at all anymore, and they were holding on to nothing just to feed their own selfishness. Steve wasn’t the most emotional of people, usually panicking before he got upset, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes now, as he watched the slow rise and fall of Billy’s, or not Billy’s, chest, and listened to the beeps and hums of the machines that kept him going.
He knew what needed to be done. Just not today.
For now, he holds Billy's hand, unmoving and just warm enough that he could tell he was alive, and whispered to him anything that came to his mind.
If Billy could hear him, he knew he was probably tired of hearing the same stories over and over, thinking of Billy waking up and complaining about Steve being too boring made him chuckle to himself. An instant pang of regret tightens his chest, feeling guilty for being happy.
There was a really sweet nurse about the age of his mother who always checked in on him at the same time everyday, like he was the one with tubes and machines sticking out of his body. Her name was Dale, and she always peeked her head into the room around meal times to ask if he had been down to the cafeteria yet. Usually he hadn’t, and sometimes he still forgot to eat anyways, but it meant a lot to him.
Today though, she came all the way in the room, a sad look on her face, and he had to avoid her gaze entirely to keep himself from breaking down, choosing instead to focus on Billy’s slender fingers where he’d laced them through his own.
“Steve, honey, I know this is really hard for you, it’s hard for all of us when something like this happens, but you need to take care of yourself.” She was just being kind, but he wouldn’t hear it.
If this was going to be the last full day he’d ever spend with Billy, he was going to make it count. A soggy sandwich in the dingy old cafeteria wasn’t worth spending a single moment away from the other boy's bedside. He feels vaguely guilty about it, but he ignores the well meaning nurse, even as she says her generic condolences that all of them were trained to say.
He smooths out Billy's hair, brushing the part that always hung in his eyes to the side carefully, something Billy himself had always seemed to do when he was nervous. It reminds him of the time they tried to do each other's hair and Billy taught him how to make a braid, so he tells Billy about it.
When he hears the distant roar of a car's engine from the open window, it reminds him of the first time Billy drove him home in the now totaled beyond recognition Camaro, so he talks about that. A bird landing on the windowsill reminds him of sitting on Billy’s bed and talking about the seagulls and the beaches back in California where Billy had grown up, so he tells Billy that story too. The phone ringing at the receptionist's desk down the hallway reminds him of the time Billy had called him in the middle of the night to invite him out to the quarry, where they’d kissed for the first time and Steve clumsily asked him to make things official, so again, he told Billy all about it.
It's mostly a comfort to himself, keeping his mind off of the reality of the situation, but then the desk lady announces over the overhead system that visiting hours are over, and it’s time for him to go.
They had been giving him a lot of leeway here at Hawkins General, allowing him to visit every single day and sometimes with a 14 year old, which was strictly against the rules of the ICU. The end of visiting hours was a rule they always stood by though, and despite how much it crushed him to leave Billy by himself overnight, he always did it.
On his way out, he grabbed the stack of papers the receptionist tried to give him off of her desk. He would call Susan in the morning and ask her what she thought. He would try to involve her in the choice, since she’d technically claimed Billy as her dependent after her marriage to his father, who had given enough verbal and written agreements that he wanted nothing at all to do with his son while he was hospitalized that his wife could, and had, stepped in.
He went home that night with the thought in his head that this was the last time he’d do this, and by this time tomorrow, Billy would be dead.
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Questions to Help World Build
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I’ve realized I have a big problem with my writing. I am awful at world-building. Like, I just start writing without thinking about the world. And since I write fantasy. Well. That’s pretty no bueno and leads to all kinds of problems down the road. So I did some brainstorming with my friends and we created a list of over 100 questions to help think about our stories’ worlds and make them more concrete. Thanks to everyone who chimed in and gave me a hand! 
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A traditional Japanese clock, wadokei, that counted hours from 9 to 4, starting from sunrise, and then starting once again from sunset. (1-3 were not used for religious purposes.) They’re super interesting and confusing. You should definitely check them out.
Temporal
Is your story set in the past, present, or future?
Specifically, what year(s), month(s), day(s)?
Are days 24 hours? Or does time pass differently in this world?
How many months are there in a year? Is it a seven day weekday? Does the concept of weekends exist?
Have most existing societies developed a timekeeping device?
Is there a way to communicate across long distances?
The concept of time zones is still relatively new to our world. Prior to the late nineteenth century, timekeeping was a purely local phenomenon. Each town would set their clocks to noon when the sun reached its zenith each day. Do standardized time zones exist across the world?
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Geographical
From a planet perspective, is it Earth? If it is not Earth, or an alternative version of Earth, what is it like? Is gravity the same? Does it have a moon or multiple moons? Can you see other planets? Is it closer or further from the sun? If so, what impact does that have on the climate and passage of time?
What town, state, region, country, continent, planet does this story take place in? What are its bordering/nearest neighbors? Draw a world map if you want.
What kind of land is it? Landlocked? Mountainous? Along the sea? Desert? Tundra? Tropical forest? Plains? Agricultural? Industrial?
What kind of plants and animals are common to the area? Are there any that do not exist in the real world?
What are the most common crops and livestock in various regions? What geographic features influence certain regions ability to grow/raise their crops and livestock (positively and negatively)? Are the regions diets strongly influenced by what they are able to grow themselves, or do other circumstances (like strong international trade) allow them to have more varied selections? How does religion influence what is considered ‘normal’ to eat?
What, if any, natural disasters are common to the region? Earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, monsoons, blizzards?
How many seasons does it have? Are any longer than others?
What is the typical weather like for those seasons?
Does the region have any unusual geographical features that set it apart? Perhaps there is some weird thing like Devil’s Tower just chilling out. Or hot springs because of volcanic activity?
Is it easy to travel from place to place within the area? Is it difficult to travel because of terrain/technology issues, or because travel is strictly regulated?
Main Locations: Cities
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Many stories take place within one city. In Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, a character remarks, “So, if a city has a personality, maybe it also has a soul. Maybe it dreams.” What personality does this city have? What soul does it have? What does it dream of when it slumbers? If your story takes place within a settlement, town, or city, give these questions some thought.
Exactly where is it located within the lands you conjured up in the above Geography questions? Does it have a bay? A river? Does it butt up against mountains? Draw a map of the city.
How big is the city? Is it compact, or sprawling?
How old is the city?
What is the history of the city? How did it come to be? What tumults and triumphs has it seen?
What is the population? Is it currently increasing, decreasing, or remaining the same?
Does the town have any claim to fame? Any tourist attractions? What are they? What’s the story behind them?
If it’s a big enough city, how many and what kind of districts does it have? Residential, Commercial, Industrial, etc. Where are they?
Are there any areas that are deemed unsafe? If so, where are they and why are they unsafe?
Is there public transportation? What kind, bus, tram, train, subway, monorail? Is it good?
How do people get around this city if not by public transportation?
Are the roads narrow or wide? Crisscrossing in a methodical grid or higgledy-piggledy?
What are the buildings like? What materials are they made of? If they’re wooden, are they new wood, old wood? If they’re painted, what colors? If they’re stone, what stone? If they’re brick, is it new red brick or blackened, crumbling brick? If they’re glass and metal, are they sparkling with new hope or dull and jaded?
Are there many skyscrapers? Or are most buildings 1-3 stories tall? What does the skyline look like?
Are there many parks?
How is the city powered? Coal? Hydroelectric? Wind? Nuclear? Has it always been so?
What is the city’s main source of revenue? Agriculture? Tourism? Manufacturing? Mining? Something else? A combination? Dive deeper into this. If it’s agriculture, what do they grow? Tourism–what is famous? etc. This will help to determine what a lot of people do for a living.
What are the demographics? Ethnicity, age distribution, distribution of upper, middle, and lower class, etc.
How many schools are there? Universities? Are any of them good? Do they specialize in anything? Do schools even exist? Perhaps there are clans that teach their children everything they need, for example, or education isn’t viewed as important.
Are there any particular landmarks within the city that standout?
How many and what kind of restaurants are there?
Are there supermarkets, open air markets, or both?
Where do young people go to spend time? What about adults?
Do people there bustle or do they amble?
What are the nights like? Does the city grow quiet, or does it grow rowdy?
What does the city smell like?
If you had to give your town a color, one that represented its personality, what color would it be?
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Main Locations: Houses (or buildings, but mainly houses)
There are many stories that have a house or headquarters or hospital or some sort of building as their main setting. These questions will mostly be geared towards helping you figure out a house, but you can apply these to other buildings too probably.
Exactly where is the house located within the city or outside the city? How does your character usually get there? Draw a map. 
What year was the house built?
Was this house built by the current family or their ancestors? Who else lived in the house before the current dwellers? What were they like? Did they leave their mark on the house somehow?
What style is the house? Bungalow? Cabin? A shed? A cave? (makes the following questions mostly useless if so lol)
How many stories is it?
What is it made of? Wood? Brick? What color is it?
Does it have a lot of windows?
Are the curtains usually open or drawn? Are thee curtains at all?
What does the front door look like? 
Is there a porch?
You enter the front door. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you use the side door because the front door is for show or something. Anyways. You enter the house. What room do you step foot into?
Draw out the floor plans for each floor. How many rooms are there? Where are they? How big are they? How are they connected? What color are they? What style of decor?
Is there a basement? Is it used or is it just a home for spiders and darkness and unwanted things? How about an attic? Crawlspace?
How many bathrooms? 
Are there any rooms that only certain people are allowed to enter? If so, why? 
What is the flooring? Carpet? Wood? Tile? Linoleum? 
What does the house smell like?
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Government/Military/Economy
In other words, “the boring stuff,” if you ask me. But this is a very important aspect of any world. 
What sort of government is in place? Democracy, oligarchy, etc? Is it a just or corrupt government?
How are goods exchanged? Bartering? Money? Coins and bills? Credit cards? A specific kind of sea shell? Lol
What are the police like? Strict? Lax? Is there a curfew?
Do taxes exist? If so, do the people feel as though they are heavily or unduly taxed?
Where is the intersection between theology and law? Is it common to have religious leaders in positions of power? Are laws based around religious ideology, or is there an effort to keep them separate?
Is there an organised structure devoted to halting criminal acts? Are they corrupt? Who runs the organisation? How does their reputation change based on demographic? What is the history of the organisation, and how does that history influence how it operates today?
Regarding potentially criminal acts, what is the elgality of prostitution, sex work, ect.?
What about drugs and other illicit substances? Alcohol, illicit drugs, recreational use. Legality, festivity, age limits, etc.
Underbelly. How prevalent is crime, what sort of crime (scaled from pickpocketing to human trafficking) is there? Are there areas that have bad reputations because of it?
Regarding war, are there currently conflicts in the world? Are they international or civil wars? How common is it to have an active war? What is the history of war? What does current warfare look like (Is it dudes in metal suits swinging swords? Have longbows been invented? Gunpowder? Tanks? Missiles?) Is military service mandatory or voluntary? How is the military seen? Is there a sense of patriotism for the military, or does the common man fear it?
Is there stigma around certain genders entering the military? Are come genders regarded as better recruits than others? Is it illegal for some genders to enter the military? Does a person's sexuality affect their ability to serve?
How has religion influenced war? Have there been holy wars in the past? Do any religious institutions hold their own military forces?
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Cultural/Historical
I’ve put these together because events in history lead to cultural change. You can apply these questions not only to the world/country, but also the city or even the neighborhood, workplace, or school that your story takes place in.
What is the history of the region? Who was it settled by? Was another group of people displaced? After that, did any new cultures come in? Did they get along?
Were there ever any wars or serious conflicts in the region? What was the cause and what was the outcome of the war if there was one?
In our world, the internet, social media, and film/tv are massive cultural drivers. They determine the latest fashions, jokes, topics, and expressions. What are the big cultural drivers in your world? Books? Plays? Radio? Oral tradition?
Is it a collectivistic or individualistic society?
What languages are spoken by your characters? Is multilingualism common?
What sorts of cultures can be seen? Do any clash? Do any mesh?
What sort of foods are most common?
What superstitions do people hold? Is there a version of “knock on wood” or throwing salt over your shoulder after a funeral? What are the roots of these superstitions?
Are there religions? If so, what are they? Do any conflict with each other? Are zealots or extremists an issue?
Does slavery or indentured servitude exist?
Are there any class or caste systems? If so, what are they, and what does an average day look like for a member of each class/caste?
How does a person's appearance change from country to country? Do certain countries have very distinct fashions? If so, are the fashions influenced by religion, surrounding countries, the cultural majority or international trade partners?
How does a person's clothing relate to their social standing? Is it very easy to assume someone's roll by appearance alone? Are there punishments for dressing above or below your social standing?
Does the society place a great deal of importance on a person's presentation, or is the society more lenient on such things?
Is there an emphasis on conformity to a dress code, or is individuality encouraged? How strictly is clothing regulated by gender binary? Is it commonplace to see a man and a woman walking down the street in the same cut of clothes? Is there a social stigma when a person does not conform to the most common form of dress for their gender?
How are sexual rights viewed? Does the LGBTQ community have the same rights as people outside the community? How are sex acts between people of the same sex viewed? Is it legal? Taboo? Are there cultures that encourage those relationships in some circumstances (like how the romans were down with guys with guys in the military)?
Are there any groups of people that are victims of prejudice? If so, who are they, who holds these views against them, and what views specifically are they?
In regards to gender, do certain societies hold differing beliefs? Is there a commonly accepted number of gender identities or does it change regionally? Is the most common gender spectrum a binary, or do certain racial and cultural differences allow for a wider range to be seen as the baseline?
Are children raised by their biological parents or are children considered to be in the care of the wider community? Is it common/acceptable for extended family to raise children, such as parents needing to study, work, or serve time in the military? Is adoption a common thing in society? Is there a stigma around adoption/being adopted? Do cultural or religious views impact how adoption is seen by the wider community? What is adoption like for a single perspective parent? When adopting, is interracial adoption accepted/common, or is it seen in a negative light? Are some societies more open to adopting children outside of their own race?
How is sex and virginity viewed? Does religion influence it? What is the age of consent? What is appropriate on a first, second, third date? Is sex something that is talked about openly, or something taboo? Are you supposed to wait until marriage? Do couples stay monogamous while dating? Do some regions place higher importance on virginity than others? Do some place higher importance on one gender’s virginity than others?
How is marriage viewed? Are arranged marriages a big thing, or are people free to choose? Is monogamy common? How is a marriage symbolized? A wedding ring, or something different?
How is divorce viewed? What is the divorce rate? Can people remarry?
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Magic and the Supernatural
If magic or spooky stuff doesn’t exist in your story, disregard this section.
Does magic exist? If so, who can use it? What are the limitations to their magic? What things are they capable of using their magic to do? What things are they incapable of doing?
Are there laws against what kind of magic can/cannot be used? What sort of laws? Who enforces them? What are the punishments for breaking said laws if they exist?
How does the existence of magic affect religion? Are there religious institutions that infuse magic into their worship? Are there religious sects that see magic as immoral and in direct opposition to their faith? Have there been conflicts in recent or ancient history between religion and the supernatural? Do some sects employ people to hunt and/or enforce law over the supernatural?
Assuming that magic does exist, is it taught? Are there different schools of magic? Is there a system of ranking for magic users based on their skill level?
Do non-magic users look towards magic users with respect or fear?
What role does magic play in this world? Has technology not advanced because magic solves many problems? Or has technology advanced and the use of some magics has become unnecessary?
Are there any mythological creatures/monsters, such as vampires, demons, skinwalkers, dragons, or other creatures of your own creation? Are they common? Do people believe in their existence? Do people worship them? Where can they be found? Do they interact with humans? Do humans fear them or try to put up with them as they do nature?
Do the dead continue to exist in some form, such as ghosts or zombies or the like? Can the dead be summoned or brought back to life?
Are there human/supernatural hybrids? Perhaps a half-demon half-human, for example? How are these people viewed by their peoples, and by society as a whole?
How has the supernatural influenced war? Do armies tend to have a mix of regular and supernatural soldiers/weapons? Have there been wars between the supernatural/magical and those without? How does magic influence a person standing in a mixed army? Is it more likely for a magical being to be promoted than a non-magical being? Conversely, are supernatural being forced into service and seen as pawns?
The End!
Please feel free to reblog and share, and add on any questions you think should be added!
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archipelagolago · 3 years
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And your heart beats to the death of the sun, the roll of the waves (+ sunday by Joy Oladokun)
÷÷÷
Ah ah ah (Mmm, mmm)
Ah ah ah (Mmm, mmm)
Ah ah ah
Billy used to dream of dandelion rich fields and soft pink sunbeams. He doesn't anymore. But he would like to again. Sometimes, he dreams of an endless subway station. Empty and dark like 4AM. That's the closest he ever gets these days. 
He is contemplating the overlap between railroad tracks and dandelions from his spot on the floor. In the doorway between kitchen and sitting room. Half of himself laying on each side. Split between an intersection. Split between who he is and who he is expected to be.
And Steve will be here soon. Which is good. But overwhelming. Because Billy doesn't feel ready to see anyone right now. But. Perseverance and all that shit. So.
Mama says I'm up to no good again
Couldn't make her proud though I did my best
I feel like I'm a mess
I feel like I'm stuck in the wrong skin
I feel like I'm sick
But I'm having trouble swallowing my medicine
Ah ah ah
His mother's necklace weighs heavy on his chest, pressed against his collarbone. Heavy. Weighted full of all the disappointment he knows she would feel if she could see him now. She said she loved him. But she left. She said she loved him. But she left him with Neil. She said, she loved him. But, she also said, 'falling in love with boys will send you straight down to the devil'.
And this morning. While on the phone with Steve to confirm their plans for today. He realized. He realized, he's in love with Steve. Which he already kinda knew. But fuck. Now he knows.
Can't keep denying acknowledgment of the feeling at any level. After, over the phone, he told Steve, about how, he's been waiting since age 12, for Max to own up to feeding his secret stash of chocolate bars to the opossums in the alley beside their California apartment. And Steve laughed so hard. So so hard and loud and breathless until he gave himself the hiccups.
And that's when Billy knew beyond any doubt. That he had fallen in love with a boy. With Steve Harrington.
He honestly doesn't care whether or not that will send him straight down to hell. But he can't stop picturing his mother's soft face, turned dark and stormy and disgusted. And there's nothing, now, that he can ever do to trick himself into believing she might come back. She'd never come back for him now.
Which shouldn't hurt as much as it does. Because he doesn't really want to see her anymore. After everything he's gone through after being left behind. But it does hurt. A shit ton. Because even after everything, he knows he'd still run straight into her arms if she ever came back to hold them out for him again.
Sunday, carry me, carry me down to the water
Wash me clean
I'm still struggling
Ah ah ah
Steve's knocking, now. After some obscure amount of time. And Billy has no idea how long he's been lying here. Doesn't even remember moving down to the floor.
He should stand up. Go let Steve in. But... Steve has a key. Billy gave it to him the same day the government paid for his move to a homey townhouse just on the edge of Hawkins.
So Steve can get in by himself if he really wants to. Which Billy hopes he won't. Knows he will. And. If he's being truly honest, he hopes he will, too.
Steve does.
Sunday, bury me under the weight of who you need me to be
Can't you see
I'm struggling
Ah ah ah
Billy keeps his eyes held shut as he hears Steve's key turn in the lock. But hums low in response to Steve's questioning call of, "Billy?".
So Steve finds him easy. Stands still against the wall of the living room. Looking down at Billy. But only for a few seconds before he says, "Hey," and, "Is it okay if I turn on the light?".
So Billy replies, "You can, but. I wish you wouldn't."
He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that Steve is nodding as he carefully steps over Billy and into the kitchen. As he gets down on the floor and lays perpendicular to Billy. As he scoots to the side and lifts Billy's head up a little until it's resting on his lap.
Steve plays with his hair. Runs his fingers through it and works it into braids that he unravels seconds after finishing.
Mmm, mmm
Ah ah ah
After several minutes, or maybe longer, Steve asks, "You still wanting to go down to the river today?".
I keep God locked in a picture frame
So I feel a little better 'bout my numbered days
Yeah I confess
He asks simple. Like yes or no. Like Billy should say yes if he wants to and no if he doesn't. Like he should want what he wants. And Billy does want to go. He does.
He says, "Yes."
The questions and the answers seem to sound the same
I'm just like the rest
Standing tall pretending not to be afraid
Ah ah ah
Billy sits in the passenger seat of Steve's Beemer. He'd kinda wanted to sit in the back. Lay across the second row seats. Would rather be horizontal right now. But, he also wanted to be close to Steve. To grip Steve's hand in his own, between their seats. So Billy is sitting in the passenger side.
From behind the wheel, Steve asks, "Why did you hang up? Right after we were laughing about Max and the opossums?"
And Billy frowns, because, he doesn't remember doing that. Drowns, because, he doesn't want Steve to be upset. And then he just, says it like it is, says, "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't even realize."
So Steve says, "oh," and nods. The way he does when he's trying to think. Trying to think too hard.
Sunday carry me, carry me down to the water
Wash me clean
I'm still struggling
The river is loud. Roaring. It's July, so. It's warm, too.
Steve doesn't say anything when Billy strips down to his boxers and wades right in. Billy finds a solid rock in the middle of the current, and sits on top of it. The water reaches up to his elbows. And the current isn't strong enough to drag him away. It's nice.
Billy only has to wait a few dozen seconds before Steve is splashing in after him. Fully dressed. In beige chinos and a long sleeved polo. Black socks and leather boots.
And Billy knows Steve will complain about his wet clothes later. But he'll still do this same thing next week.
Sunday bury me under the weight of who you need me to be
Can't you see
I'm struggling
Ah ah ah
Billy thinks he might cry. Because he can't stop going back to how, his mom thought he was an ocean. But he's always been a river. Fresh and not salt. Mud and not sand. Alligators, not sharks.
And her favorite animal was a whale. Blue whale.
And there are no blue whales in rivers.
Sunday come around, lift me up again
Never too proud for a helping hand
I've been feeling down
Can you hear me now? (Ah ah ah)
But. Steve's favorites are crayfish and frogs. He loves plucking them out of the riverbed and bringing them over to show Billy.
Steve loves Billy because. Not despite. He loves him fully clothed in an Indiana river.
Sunday come around, lift me up again
I'm never too proud for a helping hand
I've been feeling down
Can you hear me now?
And while Billy's been contemplating, Steve's been wandering. And now he's drifting back, hands held closed over something living. And when he gets over to Billy, he smiles wide all the way up to his eyes. All the way to shining.
Says, "Found a little dude," and, "wanted you to see."
So Billy holds out his hand. And he's smiling too now. Shining alongside his favorite of river dwellers.
Sunday carry me, carry me down to the water
Wash me clean
I'm still struggling
Ah ah ah
It's a crayfish this time. Smooth and hard and pissy. It pinches the skin between Billy's thumb and pointer finger as Steve passes the little guy over. Though it doesn't really hurt.
But Steve still says, "Shit," and is fast on his way to saying sorry when Billy starts laughing.
He's laughing low and heavy and full. Because it doesn't hurt, but, if he doesn't laugh he'll probably cry. Because he's really happy. Really. And he'd been thinking this illicit happiness should feel wrong. That maybe he gets to be happy, but he doesn't get to feel warm about it. But it's not wrong. He was thinking all wrong. Because Steve and his crayfish feel like embers and soft candle light. Like crackling fall leaves and drunken beach-side bonfires.
Sunday bury me under the weight of who you need me to be
Can't you see
I'm struggling
Ah ah ah
And yes. Billy's mom would glare. But Stevie is smiling and back to shining and then laughing here with Billy. So it's not enough to spin the gold back into straw. It's not enough to dry out the flow of the river.
Aah, ah-ah-ah
Aah, ah-ah-ah (Ah ah ah)
Aah, ah-ah-ah
Aah, ah-ah-ah (Ah ah ah)
The crayfish had swum away sometime between the "shit" and the flooding of Billy's riverbank. And Steve has stepped closer. Billy wraps his arms around his love's waist. Pulls him further in. Steve reaches up, cradles Billy and his stubble in his palms. Leans forward until their foreheads are colliding. Softly.
But then he gasps. And whispers, "Wait. Billy, don't move."
Billy doesn't entirely listen, tilts his head down to follow Steve's gaze. And there it is. A spring peeper sitting in the curve of his right elbow.
The frog chirps a baritone melody. But it's a chorus frog. Can't reach a symphony without the rest of its choir.
Harmony. Billy gets it now. Why there need to be layers of sound.
So, "I hung up because, I've never been in love like this before."
Steve gives another one of his nods. Follows with a soft, "I know."
Billy can't help the harmonic smile or the single tear as, "Because, I do. I love you, Stevie."
And Steve keeps the crack in his voice with, "Well. I know I've said it before but, I love you too, Bills."
It makes sense now. It does. The months trapped in a parallel universe. The connection to a monster-forged body. The dying extension of self. The living reality. The asthma and the trauma and the phantom pain. And no. It doesn't make it worth it. But it helps it make sense.
Everything makes so much damn sense when Steve guides Billy's head to the curve of his neck and hums softy in tune with the lone spring peeper. Harmony.
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repurpose-yourself · 3 years
Text
Community Slides - The Ultimatum
“I’ve smoked blunts sturdier than that,” Neil remarked.
“There wasn’t any resistance at all?” Erik asked.
Will sighed, “Afraid not.”
On a ragged looking coffee table, Dan’s two slide bodies sat. Impressions from multiple pairs of masculine feet started to show, with the treads wearing ever so slightly. Three sources of foot sweat had seeped into the living footwear’s bodies, marking it with unique smells that mingled into one manly funk.
“Did you ask if they had or planned to build another?” Erik said.
Neil scoffed, “Why doesn’t Will just announce that he stole the device in the first place. That will go over well.”
“Fuck off man, I was just asking,” Erik retorted.
Dan still wasn’t aware of what they were talking about. The footwear just looked up at its three roommates, all whom were different in appearance but handsome in their own right. The three college students, who turned Dan into slides to stomp the foot fetish from the roommate, just sat on the edge of the couch, looking down.
“I doubt they will make another one,” Will finally said, after a few minutes of silence passed by, “That is a prototype lab. Prototype as in one and only one. I think Dan is stuck this way.”
Those words struck the living footwear hard. The gravity of the situation finally came into full view now. If Dan could feel sick, he would have. It wasn’t an ordinary remote the former human had took part in destroying, it was the ticket out of life as a pair of slides. How he wished to go back to the moment hours earlier, to change destiny. But even if it were possible to turn back time, Dan couldn’t stop Will’s foot from guiding the living slide over and stomping on the remote. That’s just not how footwear works.
“Then what do we do?” Neil asked.
Conflicted emotions swirled in the slides mind. Dan loved masculine feet and having complete access to three pairs was a amazing. But it did come at a price. No doubt the pain and suffering of supporting such massive men took a toll on the former human. Dan had a new found respect for the plight of footwear and would treat his better if given a chance to become human again.
“I don’t know,” Will answered, looking lost.
“Fuck it, I have an idea,” Erik said, leaning forward and grabbing the living slides.
He dropped Dan onto the floor, righting the slides with his feet until they were upright and ready. Erik pushed his wide feet in, stretching the footwear slightly until the large appendages were in. The jock then stood up, unleashing a wave of pressure and agony over Dan, the floor groaning as well.
“Let’s just keep using him,” Erik said, stomping down with his left foot.
Neil and Will glanced at each other.
“I mean what are we supposed to do? Just let him lay in the corner by the door, unused and left alone?” Erik asked, “Wouldn’t that be worse?”
Will considered for a moment, “Ummm... yeah... ya know, for once Erik, you’re right.”
Neil stood up, “I’ll second that. Dan isn’t going to be human anymore and the fucker is probably loving being under our feet anyway. Let’s give the fuck what he wants.”
Erik’s toes dug painfully into the slides, “That’s what I am talking about.”
Will finally stood up, “I suppose we are making Dan’s dream come true. But eventually we’re going to graduate. One of us well have to keep him after we move out next year.”
Neil and Erik thought for a moment.
“We’ll figure it out then,” Erik replied, wiggling his toes, “Let’s celebrate with a beer.”
“Okay, I’m in,” Will said.
“Me too,” Neil followed.
“Let’s hit the bar then,” Erik said with a smile, leading the way.
And that was it. Dan’s life had been changed forever and determined by three men who only viewed him as footwear. The living slides could now live at masculine feet for the rest of its useful life. But it came at great cost, a cost that Erik, Neil and Will didn’t think mattered too much. For an object is owned and used accordingly, and Dan was no different...
This is a series and will be denoted by the title ‘Community Slides.’
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peachtree-dish · 3 years
Text
A Te Che Sei Il Mio Grande Amore Ch. 4 Di Volta in Volta
Luglio 20, 1969
“Commander Neil Armstrong is making his way out of the spacecraft and is taking his first steps down the ladder to the moon’s surface. In mere moments he will be the first man to step foot on the moon…” The voice was narrated through the tv screen as the events of the first human moon landing played out in front of nearly the entire village. Those who did not have access to radio or television were crammed into their neighbor’s houses to either listen or watch on the small television screens. The usual Sunday atmosphere had been disrupted by the whole world waiting with bated breath as history played out in their living rooms. Luca sat between Giulia and Alberto in front of Massimo’s secondhand TV, fighting the urge to press himself against the class so as not to miss a single detail. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before because he had stayed up listening as the Apollo 11 crew had taken their last orbit around the moon before landing their naveta spaziale on the surface. Behind him, his family was sitting at the dinner table tightly pressed between Massimo and the several cats that had found some form of purchase on his broad shoulders. Luca had not thought it possible, but Massimo’s eyebrows seemed to be furrowed even deeper than usual; they were the only indication that he seemed just as anxious as everyone else.
Luca’s eyes widened as the man on the screen as the astronaut hopped onto the last ring of the ladder, his hands gripping tightly to it as if he were afraid to float away into the expanse of space. Beside him, Alberto squinted closely at the emerging astronaut and rubbed his chin.
“Their suits kinda look like that old diving suit, no?” he muttered in Luca’s ear. Guilia loudly shushed him from Luca’s other side, promptly cutting off any further commentary. Instead of vocalizing his agreement he instead gave an energetic nod to Alberto before the older boy could swat Giulia’s arm in revenge.
“I can see my footprints as I step away from the spacecraft…the surface appears to be covered in… fine, sandy particles…” For one moment, Luca pictured himself bounding across the surface of the moon, the old diving helmet pressed tightly to his shoulders, and space sand floating behind him. He could almost feel himself levitating away from the worn, wool rug of Massimo’s small kitchen, thousands of stars floating above him.
Giulia gasped, startling Luca back to reality, “He’s letting go of the spacecraft!” Sure enough, Armstrong’s grainy figure on the screen was slowly letting go of the ladder and stepping into the unknown of space. In a moment of trepidation, Luca reached wrapped his hand around Guilia’s as they waited for the next few moments to pass. He could hear Alberto inhale sharply beside him, assuming he was just as anxious as the rest of them.
“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” in one moment the entire world released its breath with a cheer.
Massimo slammed his fist down on the table with a shout of “Vittoria” ringing through the house. His outburst startled the cats into a hissing mess and Nonna Paguro slapped his arm with her cane, claiming a premature heart attack. Around them adults and children were shouting and cheering, many even taking to the streets, their cacophony mixing with the howling of dogs. Giulia hurriedly leaned over to wrap her arms around Alberto and Luca’s shoulders, relieved giggles echoing in their ears as she rushed over to embrace Massimo in earnest. Luca grinned, sparing one last glance at the screen as the rest of the astronauts filed out of the ship, before turning excitedly to Alberto. Without a moment’s hesitation, Luca embraced him, only realizing mere seconds after that his hand was still entangled with someone else’s. At his friend’s stiff posture and flushed face, Luca’s excitement died only to be replaced with confusion. He rocked back onto his heels, one hand draped awkwardly around Alberto’s neck and Alberto’s left hand resting on his hip.
“Alberto?” he breathed, forcing the older boy to peer at him as he pulled away. Alberto blinked rapidly, his hand clenching and unclenching around Luca’s and his green eyes looking desperately around the room. He licked his lips and did not fail to notice Alberto’s eyes following the movement. He opened his mouth to say something before a loud crash broke the atmosphere between them. Machiavelli’s son, Bocelli, had become spooked in the excitement and had managed to knock over Massimo’s favorite tea kettle along with a few teacups. While the kettle had merely been bumped from the impact, three cups had met a disastrous end on the floorboards.
Amidst shouts and curses from the adults, Alberto had firmly and quickly untangled himself from Luca, rushing to the pantry to remove a broom and pan for the mess. Lorenzo was trying his best to scoop the remaining cats into his arms so they wouldn’t get hurt and Daniela was simply yelling at them all to move. Massimo was cradling the kettle with his arm, gently checking for any damage while Giulia remained unseen in the mess, her eyes flitting between Luca and Alberto who still hadn’t said anything. On the carpet, Luca watched as if frozen, unsure of why he felt like crying.
The days following the moon landing and the Apollo 11 crew’s return to earth found Giulia and Alberto working overtime to fill the town’s orders. At least, that was what Luca was telling himself. Since their awkward moment on the rug, Alberto hadn’t spent as much time around Luca, instead of spending hours out fishing and hauling the day’s catch through the streets. His conversations with them would always be clipped, though not unfriendly and he always found a reason not to spend time with them. Giulia, feeling as if she were walking on eggshells, tried to ask Alberto what was going on while they delivered, but he simply brushed off her inquiries with a forced grin. In her opinion, his lies reeked more than days old trash left in the heat. Her frustration grew to an extreme one evening when Alberto bid them both a halfhearted goodnight from the dinner table, claiming he would be staying up later than usual to fill in the finance charts. Ignoring Giulia’s glare and Luca’s hurt expression, he pulled out the counting charts Massimo had been filling out the previous afternoon and began adding the day’s earnings.
“I think he really does hate me,” Luca admitted to Giulia once they passed the archway leading to the docks.
“Don’t be ridicolo, I think he’s just... acting weird?” She floundered, unable to come up with an acceptable response.
“Oh, really, Giulia?!” Luca burst, his frustration surging, “He's not the one who acted weird, I was! I messed up, and now he can’t stand to be around me. I disgust him!” He kicked at a pebble, his expression strained. Luca tried to inhale deeply to calm himself, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t allow it. He turned back to a solemn Giulia, his voice choked. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” To his mounting horror, large drops of water began to spill down his cheeks and before Giulia could even reach out to offer comfort, the teen was tearing down the cobblestones leading to the water's edge. Giulia’s calls were lost in the water as it enveloped him, his salty tears mixing with the sea. He swam for a long time, wanting to avoid his own home for as long as possible. He couldn’t stop thinking about Alberto’s hands on his hip or how it felt to look down into his eyes. Had they not been interrupted, what would have happened? And then he remembered how Alberto had looked frantic, almost afraid of what Luca was going to do. With a half-formed snarl, Luca dove towards the ocean floor. Reaching a shallow cave, he sat down and curled in on himself while his stomach heaved, and his tail thrashed.
“Stupido, stupido, stupido, stupido…” he sobbed over and over, unable to silence Bruno in his mind.
Giulia marched into the house fuming, her eyes landing on Alberto who stared at the wall in front of him, his expression blank. Wordlessly, she picked up the discarded papers on the table and smacked them across the back of his stupid, curly head.
“OW! What the-” Alberto spun around to glare at her.
“Non posso crederti,” she seethed, her hands shaking.
“I don’t have time for your hormonal dramatics, Gi,” Alberto deadpanned, moving to stand and escape from the redhead’s wrath.
“Don’t you dare,” she pushed him back into the chair, her brute strength surprising him. Small as she may be, Giulia was still Massimo’s daughter.
“How can you both keep hurting each other like this? You’re friends, no? Start acting like it!” She flailed her hands hysterically in such a way that Alberto almost wanted to laugh.
“We are friends, tutto bene,” He argued, inwardly wincing at the lie.
“Then why does Luca always look on the verge of tears after being around you? What happened, fratello? You haven’t been the same since the moon landing.” Giulia stared him down with both fists resting on her hips. She rarely referred to him as her brother, and when she did it was because she was trying to show how much she actually cared. That was the one thing Giulia and Alberto always agreed on, they hated to show feelings. Alberto could feel the anxiety he felt on that day building again inside him. He hadn’t meant to make it worse; he was going to make a joke about Luca being scared, but then he had grabbed Alberto’s hand. They touched each other easily all the time, frequent in their affection and friendly nature, but Luca had never held Alberto’s hand like that. Alberto hadn’t wanted to let go. It was just a harsh reminder that eventually he would have to let go of Luca forever. He swallowed thickly and peered at Giulia.
“I’m not going to get in the way of Luca following his dreams,” He said slowly, trying to get his friend to understand. “Luca is meant for grander things than whatever I had planned, I’m just helping him realize that.” Giulia stared at him for a moment before pinching the bridge of her nose and screwing her eyes shut.
“Oh, Dio, I’m surrounded by idiots.”
“Giulia, listen,” He began only to be interrupted by Giulia holding up her hand.
“Silenzio, Bruno. I know you don’t believe that. Luca wouldn’t have any of his dreams without you, and if he were to lose you, those dreams would fade.” Alberto shrank into his seat, not wanting to look her in the eye. With a defeated sigh, the young girl sat beside him.
“You’ve never told us about how you ended up alone, and I’m not going to ask you to tell me,” she interrupted him before he could speak. He swallowed his objection and let her continue, “but I wish you could understand that we’re not like your old family.  Berto,” she reached out and held one of his hands in both of hers, “we will never abandon you, and neither will Luca. But I am afraid that if you continue to act this way, he’ll think you abandoned him.”
Alberto’s head snapped up and he gazed fiercely at Giulia, reminding her of the first time he revealed his sea monster form to her.
“I would never abandon him.”
She stared back coolly and pointed at the bracelet on his wrist, “Then prove him wrong.” With that she stood and marched upstairs, her steps sounding with finality. Alberto watched her empty seat for a few moments, his ears roaring with the pounding of his heart. Before he could reconsider his actions, the chair scraped harshly along the floorboards, and he was rushing towards the warm ocean.
“Luca!” He called desperately into the waves, not caring if any of the other sea folk were sleeping. His shouts startled a school of pandoras swimming by, and they rushed past him as fast as possible. Alberto sped towards Luca’s home, his heart thundering as he reached Luca’s window. Peering in he found Nonna Paguro sleeping on her side of the room, her snores rattling through the water. To his growing anxiety, he found Luca’s bed empty and so turned towards the island where he had often hidden. Crashing clumsily upon the rocky shore, Alberto called out to the tower, its windows and roof dark and unresponsive.
If he looked too closely at the darkened mouth of the tower, he’d see a small child, crying anxiously for his papa to come home. Pushing the dark memories away, Alberto took deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Feeling the anxiety in his chest close to bursting, he dove back into the darkened waters and shouted again.
“Luca! I’m sorry, please talk to me!” He swam frantically, his gaze twisting in every direction, hoping to catch a glance of blue. He swam farther out to the ocean, the fields of seaweed sloping into rocky, sand-filled terrain.
“I’m s-sorry,” He gasped, bubbles escaping his mouth and floating towards the moonlit surface. He felt his hope slipping away with them when he heard a hiccupped cry.
“Alberto?” Luca’s voice was raw from his emotional outburst, but it was still the most beautiful sound Alberto had ever heard. Twisting around with enough force to nearly snap his neck, Alberto found Luca peering out from underneath an overhanging rock bank. He felt his own sob of relief escape his throat before he swam down to his friend. The older boy floated in front of Luca, unsure of how he would react.
“Is everyone okay, you sound upset,” Luca’s eyes were red-rimmed, and they pinned Alberto to the spot with their concern. Alberto wanted to slap himself; Luca was obviously hurting yet here he was making sure Alberto and everyone else was alright. How selfish can you be, Alberto?
“No, everyone’s fine, but I’ve been an idiota, Luca. We only have days left before you go back to Genoa, and I’ve spent the past two weeks ignoring you because…” He stopped as he felt his fear resurfacing. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“But that doesn’t make se-”
“I know, that’s why I said I’m an idiota,” he chuckled drily at Luca’s confusion. “You got me off the island, but there are days I feel like I’m drowning.” He explained patiently, “There are so many new things here and I feel like I’m always behind while you’re always ahead.” He swallowed, watching as Luca still looked confused. “I feel like one day you’re going to realize that I’m slowing you down and I don’t want to get in the way of you becoming who you’re meant to be, even if that means I get left behind.”
Luca’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock, “Alberto, there is no dream worth having if you’re not in it.” Alberto stood stunned before him, his mouth had gone shockingly dry considering the saltwater in it.
“Caro,” he whispered, pulling Luca into his arms, too overwhelmed to finish speaking.
“I thought I offended you,” Luca admitted softly, his voice humming against Alberto’s collarbone, “I thought I had made you uncomfortable, when in reality I thought I grabbed Giulia’s hand, I promise.” Alberto felt his stomach drop out from him. He badly wanted to contradict Luca, tell him he had wanted more than anything to grab his hand whenever he could. But he wouldn’t, his fear wouldn’t let him.
“It’s okay, you didn’t offend me. If anything, I can’t blame you. No one can resist my good looks and charm,” He joked, laughing a bit too loudly to be considered natural. Luca snorted and pushed away from him, rolling his eyes.
“You wish, Berto,”
I really do, Alberto thought helplessly.
“Thank you for coming after me, again.” Luca laughed exasperatedly, hiding his face in his hands with a groan. “Giulia probably thinks I’m the most dramatic idiot in all of Italy.”
Alberto shrugged and glanced to the side, “Eh, you’d be surprised, she has her own moments. Must be an Italian thing.” Luca glared at him halfheartedly through his claws.
“Do you wanna head back to your house, or…” Alberto motioned his head back towards Porto Rosso. Luca smiled and motioned back to him.
“Wherever you want, I’ll follow you.”
“Well, it’s about time. I’ve only been waiting for over a year,” Alberto teased, swimming back towards the shining lights of the port town, his best friend’s laughter ringing behind him.
31 Agosto 1969
The last weeks of summer came and went with the laughter of children and a full season of fishing; having decided that winning the Porto Rosso Cup last year had been enough of an adventure, Giulia, Luca, and Alberto had instead spent time behind the scenes helping with the race alongside Signora Marsigliese. The woman had been extra grateful for the help and had run the three of them nearly ragged with preparations. With no Ercole in sight, the race had been far more enjoyable for all the town’s children, and even more so for their families.
Alberto volunteered to keep watch in the bay as the kids swam, already used to having lifeguard duties. He made sure to help anyone who got stuck or might have struggled especially hard. It made Luca’s heart especially warm to watch Alberto interact with the smaller children, encouraging them and even allowing the smallest bambina to latch onto his tail when she got too tired to swim back to shore. This year, Daniela and Lorenzo actually helped by offering water to kids as they struggled up the hill, this time without threatening to dump it on their heads.
In the end, the race was one by a brother and sister from the Ricci family who both were so exhausted they could barely keep the trophy held up between them. The end of the season also meant that Alberto would be working in his many diverse side jobs once it got too cold.
“Do you actually like working in la panetteria? Luca asked him from where he sat on the floor packing his things away.
“It’s not bad,” Alberto shrugged nonchalantly, “it was kinda stressful at first, but Signora Aurora is really nice, and I don’t make nearly as many mistakes as Ciccio.”
“I don’t think anyone could make as many mistakes as him, Ciccio’s a league unto his own,” Luca muttered absently, comparing two different books in his hands. In Alberto’s opinion, they looked the exact same.
“After the weather gets colder, I start baking in the mornings at the Pasticcini, and then Signore Ciano has me help him and Guido in their garage. I offered to help Padre D’uva at the church, but” he shrugged again with a half-smile, “babies don’t really like getting baptized by sea monsters.” Luca snorted and rolled his eyes at the image of a scaled Alberto trying to dunk a screaming child.
“I guess your smile and good charms don’t work on everybody, amico.”
Alberto flipped upside down on the bed and bit his lip suggestively and waggled his eyebrows, “Just you then?” Luca paused a moment to look at him and his gaze was almost enough to make Alberto stop. The young monster tilted his head to the side, considering Alberto’s features.
“Eh, could use some work,” He answered finally turned his head back to his bag, trying to stifle his laughter as Alberto made a face.
The sound of knuckles rapping on the doorframe causes them both to look up. Giulia leaned against the chipped white paint and smiled warmly, “Mind if I come in, ragazzi?” Alberto happily scooted to the side, ultimately remaining in his upside-down state.
“You’re not done packing?” Giulia asked incredulously. Luca only pouted from the floor.
“I can’t decide which books to take,” He ran a hand through his already stressed curls, the motion capturing Alberto’s attention even from his angle.
“You’re such a nerd, you know that right,” She ruffled his hair affectionately.
“As a nerd, it is, in fact, my job to know that, Giulietta.” The brunette stuck his tongue out defiantly before tossing the books back onto their pile. With a groan he stood and stretched his back, the muscles popping into place. Throwing himself on the bed he looked up at the ceiling and said, “I can’t believe summer’s already over, I feel like we just got back!” He flopped back down, his arm thumping Alberto’s stomach.
“Hey, attento!” Alberto swore. He swung himself back up and flopped backward, tugging Giulia along with him. Luca patted his stomach by way of apology before sighing dramatically.
“Why doesn’t school go by this fast?”
“Because then more people would enjoy it,” Giulia sighed from the other side of Alberto, who remained oddly quiet. He turned his head from one side to the other, watching how the late afternoon sun turned Giulia’s hair a violent copper and how it made Luca’s eyes seem molten. Suddenly reaching out, he tugged both close to him and said, “Vi amo, ragazzi.” Luca and Giulia shared a look of befuddlement.
“…Okay?” They replied in unison
“Learn as much as you can and then tell me everything in your letters, okay? Just like before. Except for this time, I’m going to learn new things, too. That way, we can all share what we learned next summer.” He grinned proudly at the thought.
Giulia sat up and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you feeling okay, pazzo? Do you need a doctor or something?”
“No, I’m serious. Giulia, you remember what you asked us at the beginning of summer?” She cocked her head to the side before nodding.
“I asked what you wanted to be when we got older.”
“Esattamente! And I have no idea, but I want to find out.” He looked at both Luca and Giulia as they processed his words. Luca was the first to move, wrapping his arms tighter around Alberto’s middle and grinning into his shoulder.
“I think that’s a great idea, caro. I’m proud of you.” Giulia nodded in agreement as she settled back down.
“Even if you don’t figure it out this year, or the next, just goditi il viaggio, like my mama always says. Life is about discovery, if you can’t enjoy it, learn from it.” Alberto hummed contently in response.
“Your mom sounds smart,” he mused.
“She is,” Luca and Giulia answered together, causing the trio to burst into a fit of giggles.
Later that evening, when Massimo climbed upstairs to check on the children, he found Giulia, Alberto, and Luca curled around one another on Giulia’s bed. Alberto had both arms wrapped protectively around both his daughter and Luca while they snored away peacefully. Machiavelli waltzed between his legs before alighting himself upon the bed and curling up next to Alberto’s head. He softly chided the cat to remain quiet and leave the children to their dreams. Without waking them, he softly tucked them in with the blanket from Alberto’s bed before walking out of the room. As he closed the door, he chanced one last glance at his little family and allowed himself a small smile. He could not wait for summer to return.
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