Ibechy's trhash can :p

From all the times I’ve watched TFS, the one thing that has stuck with me is the final conversation Henry has with Joyce. It’s just before his last confrontation with Patty Newby and before he joins Brenner for good. Joyce is the last person (who doesn’t know about Henry’s powers) that he canonically talks to.

Throughout the entire play Joyce, Hopper, and Bob are investigating the animals dying at the hands of Henry and come to the conclusion that Victor Creel has been the one doing the killing. They get so close to solving the case. In her last conversation with Henry, Joyce tries to comfort him by saying that Victor will pay for his crimes - which makes Henry laugh because she’s so close yet so far from the truth. He gets a little frustrated and says something along the lines of “You don’t get it. But someday you will.” (edit 28/9: the exact dialogue is [Henry: you’re too nice. that is how they’ll get you. you have to learn to do anything you can to protect the ones you love] [Joyce: I don’t understand.] [Henry: You will.]) The next time we see Henry make a reappearance in Joyce’s life is during -

The Vanishing of Will Byers

Will is taken into the Upside Down (UD) by Henry. It’s not even a question anymore. All of the context clues from 1x1 lead us to believe that Will’s kidnapping was not by a demogorgon. Will - a 12 year old - miraculously survives a week in the upside down with no food or water. Will is even around the demogorgon a few times in the Upside Down. (Joyce communicating with Will through the lights and then the demogorgon coming after her immediately).

Barb dies the night she is taken but Will stays alive and also somehow manages to talk to Joyce through the wall. Joyce is led exactly to where Will was held at the end of s1 and he makes it out alive. It’s almost as if Henry knew all along that Joyce was the most capable of never giving up on finding her son. Like Henry took Will Byers because he was Joyce’s son. And like he was giving her just enough to know that Will was alive. Even when Joyce and Hopper find him at the end in a state of near death, he’s not injured by a creature. He was being prepared for the next stage of Vecna’s plan -

The Possession of Will Byers

The origins of Henry’s powers happen as such - As a kid, he is transported into the UD (originally coined Dimension X by the government) for a few hours because he touched something he wasn’t meant to touch. During his time in there, he came in contact with the Mind Flayer (MF). According to TFS this is the point in his life when he started getting “corrupted”. Brenner’s dad - who was one of the first people to enter dimension X - had mutated blood after but no powers. Henry was the first person to come in contact with the MF and it’s highly likely he got his powers because of this (This would also track considering how most of the party has been in the UD now but show no signs of having powers). The MF controls Henry for the rest of TFS and Henry grows more power hungry the more he kills.

In S2, Henry presumably sends the MF after Will - who has now had a year to heal from the events of 1983. Will is the only other person in all of ST to have had direct contact with the MF and survived it. Henry didn’t hesitate to kill Billy in S3, but he always gives everyone just enough to keep Will safe. Will himself tells Owens in S2 that the MF wants to kill everyone except him. Will once again survives the entire ordeal and is given a “break” for the next 2 seasons. Except I don’t believe he’s been just given a break. I think Will is -

Henry’s Sleeper Agent.

Ready to awaken in s5. I undoubtedly think that Will is going to have powers. And I don’t think they’re going to be the same as Henry and El. El and the other lab kids get their powers directly from Henry. Will’s powers will be directly from the MF like Henry. I believe this has been Henry’s plan all along and it’s further affirmed by what he tells Will in the recent VR game. That Will will be the key to Henry being able to infiltrate his friends’ minds. Jamie Campbell-Bower also mentioned during the S4 press that to get in character, he set up a display with all of Henry’s victims and targets’ faces on his wall(?), and Will was in the center.

Henry is going to use his connection with Will sneakily and midway through S5 he’s going to awaken Will’s powers (maybe in ep4 - which is said to be titled ‘Sorcerer’ and has young Will in it). Henry is going to try and manipulate his way into making an ally out of Will, and it’s not going to work because -

Will is the Perfect Character Foil.

Tuesday. 

There had been the smallest hope that maybe, just maybe you would get to relax for the week. Nothing of interest really happened Monday. Your dad had taken the day off work to spend some time with Jayce. And while the two had disappeared early in the morning, doing whatever it is that guys their age did, your mom mainly sat on the phone— gossiping with her friends— and left you alone for the most part. So, without being bothered, you spent the time catching up on whatever you needed.

Then Tuesday morning came. 

Your dad had gone back to work. While your mom woke you up at a crisp, 9 am and told you the list of things she needed done before the party. Everything from food for the party to decorations to tablecloths to thank you notes, etc., all needed to be done within the next three days. 

You might just lose your mind by the end of the week. 

After ripping yourself from your bed, the first thing your mom had tasked you with was writing thank you notes— since invitations weren’t needed. Your dad had already walked the entire neighborhood to invite every neighbor to the party, four days ago. And while at work today, you’re sure he’s inviting everyone from work to the party as well.

After your mom handed you the book with all the names that she had written down for thank you notes, you got to work. Moving yourself in the craft room for some peace and quiet while your mom worked on getting a cake and several restaurants to cater for the party, so you and her wouldn’t have to cook, thankfully. 

Two hours later of writing thank-you cards for the entire neighborhood, folding the pretty envelopes up, and stacking them, you felt like your hands were going to fall off. An ache had set in but you were finally finished. Packing up all the notes and putting them into a nearby empty box before carrying them downstairs to your mother. 

“Where do you want these?” You ask, swinging the corner into the kitchen where your mom and Jayce sit at the dining table. 

“Just on the island there.” your mom replies, pointing to the edge of the island countertop she mentioned. “Thank you for doing those by the way!” Your mom adds. 

You nod, smiling just a little as you set the box down before glancing back at your mom and Jayce. Who still looks as handsome as he did two days ago. 

You assumed the two had just finished lunch with the empty plates sitting in front of them. 

You head around the island and to the fridge. You find the pre-made sandwiches your mom made for lunch, and pull one out to eat. Your fingers were still aching anyway, you needed to give them a break as much as you needed some lunch too. 

You’ve just sat down at one of the stools when your mom speaks up again. 

“After you’re done with that I need you to work on folding some party things your dad picked out.” Your mom states. 

You bite back a groan, instead turning your attention back to the sandwich. 

No time to rest. 

You eat your lunch while scrolling through your phone, tuning out the idle chatter that goes on between your mom and Jayce— since it was mostly about your dad anyway. But after you finish your lunch, you set your plate into the sink while mentally preparing yourself for the next task at hand. 

Once you had stood up, so did your mom. Busing herself with cleaning up the dining table and the kitchen. “Don’t forget the stuff you’ll need.” She says, beginning to wash the leftover dishes in the sink. With her head, she nods towards the bags of party supplies sitting beside the chair she had been in. But before you can walk over and pick it up, Jayce reaches for the bags instead. He stands up, holding the bags with ease in just one big hand. 

“Can I help you?” Jayce asks softly, looking directly at you as he stands beside the table. 

“Oh, we couldn’t ask that of you! You’re our guest, you should relax!” Your mom argues, waving off his request; while ignoring the fact that you too…were a guest. 

Jayce smiles, shaking his head at your mom's proposal to relax. “It’s okay. I’d rather help than just sit around here, kind of twiddling my thumbs.” He politely speaks, bringing his gaze back to you. 

Thankfully you had just finished your sandwich, because if you were still eating you would’ve most likely choked on it when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s not fair for me to just sit while you work so hard.” Jayce chuckles, moving to stand beside you. He stares down at you— he stares down at everyone— waiting for you to answer him. He wasn’t asking your mom’s permission to help with the party planning, he was asking you. 

“Uh yeah, I…wouldn’t mind the extra help.” You respond, slightly dazed. A strange feeling swells inside your chest. Strange enough, you can’t quite put your finger on what it is— or maybe, it was just too many to name them all. 

“Alright, after you.” He hums with a wide smile. As if he had been wanting you to say yes the entire time. 

You stand for a heartbeat longer than you probably should’ve before turning and leaving the kitchen behind. You take a few steps into the hallway before letting Jayce pass you instead, since he was kind enough to carry the supplies needed for the decorations and you didn’t want to get in his way. And it would give you the chance to look at him without him seeing. 

You stare at his broad back. The simple, cotton green shirt he wears hugs his body in all the right places— his shoulders, biceps, and his waist. You get the urge to touch him. To press your hands flat into his back, bunch his shirt up, and scratch the length down. It was…a very inappropriate thought to have about a man twice your age. 

But you notice something else besides how attractive and fit Jayce is. Still just a step behind, you notice the slight limp he walks with. You can’t help but wonder how he must’ve gotten it. Was it from sleeping badly on the futon? He hadn’t openly complained about his body being sore or being in any pain so you assumed it wasn’t but you could be wrong. You don’t ask about it. It wasn’t a topic for you to discuss or ask about anyway; not unless he wanted to talk about it. 

“I think it’s sweet that you’re helping your parents out.” Jayce says, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You jerk just a little at his words but quickly recover when heading up the stairs. “I don’t really have much of a choice.” You respond.

Leaving the landing of the stairs, the two of you pass the bathroom, heading straight ahead for the craft room. 

“Growing up, I was always willing to help my mom but…I didn’t have a choice in it either.” Jayce comments, sympathizing with you, stepping out of the way to allow you to slide past him to open the craft room door. 

After opening the door for him, Jayce steps inside the craft room. He moves over to the closest desk, setting the bags down on top of the wooden table. 

You move around him, sitting down in the chair you had previously used when writing out the several thank-you notes. You open the bag Jayce had sat down, digging around briefly before pulling out handfuls of party favors your dad had picked out. Of course they were cute and all but everything had to be cut out and folded by hand. Your dad, always going above and beyond. 

“Why is that?” You ask casually, referring to his earlier statement about not having a choice either, beginning to stack the party crafts into piles. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he grabs the other chair in the craft room and sits down right next to you. 

“Well,” Jayce starts, helping you tidy up the stacks of decorations. “My dad passed away when I was really young. So it’s always just been my mom and I.” 

Your heart sinks. You freeze in your sorting, glancing over at him with a concerned look to your eye. 

Jayce softly smiles as your eyes meet, clearly understanding the sorrow you express for him. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” He reassures, turning back to the pile of crafts. 

Leaving it at that, you pick up the top card and flip it over to read the instructions. Jayce leans in closer to you, hanging just over your shoulder to skim the directions along with you. But his closeness makes your entire body begin to burn. Heat crawls under your skin as he sits right behind you. If you moved backwards, even just a little, you’re sure you’d press right into his chest. 

You turn your head ever so slightly to look at Jayce, holding your breath. 

You don’t know why his presence unravels you so much. You’ve known him for a few days and yet it feels like years. He gets under your skin— in a really good way— far more than anyone else has ever done. You wanted to know more about him, to know his likes and dislikes. You wanted him to touch you; to crave you. 

And it was a terrible thing to desire, knowing the circumstances. You were younger. You were his friend’s daughter. He was here to reconnect with said friend and here you are wanting to kiss him so bad you can almost taste it. Guilt sends a sour shiver down your spine. 

Jayce must feel you staring at him, or maybe you’re just too quiet for his liking, because he turns just as slightly to look at you. His gaze is soft; tenderness lies in the shine of his hazel eyes. A charming smile settles on his lips, followed by the soft hue of a red blush spanning across his tan face. 

Jayce opens his mouth to speak but you’re not sure if you can hear what he has to say and think about anything other than crawling into his lap, touching his chest, feeling his hands— 

“If I cut these out, will you fold them?” You blurt, disrupting the air that had built up between the two of you. Using your last little bit of semblance and clarity to keep yourself from doing something rash. You rip your eyes from him, turning to focus on the craft in your hands instead. 

Jayce, seemingly still dazed from the energy you two had just shared, nods out of the corner of your eye. He leans back into his chair as he awaits to help. 

You throw open a couple of desk drawers, a little harder than you meant to, in search of a pair of scissors. When you finally manage to find some, your fingers tremble and you curse yourself. Shakily cutting on the dotted line, working in the silence you created, before handing Jayce the cut out product. 

After several minutes of calming your nerves, focusing on just cutting out projects and handing them to Jayce to fold, the quiet quickly becomes more unnerving than him inside your personal space had. 

 “So just you and your mom, huh?” You ask softly, trying to fill the void of silence with anything. 

Jayce hums in response, still working on the crafts you hand him. He folds every piece expertly along the lines. Almost a little too good at it. 

“No spouse waiting at home for you?” 

Anything but that. 

You could’ve said anything but that; too late now. 

Jayce awkwardly clears his throat before following up with an embarrassed chuckle. “No I uh, no,” Jayce responds. He keeps his eyes glued onto the project in his hands. “I’ve always been too focused on my studies and profession.” He admits with another half-assed laugh. 

You cut along your lines, nodding your head, keeping your attention heavy like iron on the project in your hands as well. You don’t know what it is about Jayce, but being around him suddenly turns you into an idiot as much as he turns you into a needy mess. 

“What is it that you do?” You ask, changing the topic you shouldn’t have brought up in the first place. 

“I’m a professor. I teach technical physics at Piltover University.” Jayce replies, finally turning his attention just a smidge in your direction. 

“You teach where you went to college? That’s a little ironic, don’t you think?” You laugh and he follows suit. The air between you two is, fortunately, refreshing once again. 

“It is,” Jayce agrees, a wide smile on his lips as his laughing settles down. “The professor who had taught me, retired after I graduated. And I just took over.” 

“You’ve been teaching since you graduated? You must really enjoy it.” You chat, more relaxed as you tend to the party favors. 

“I do. I enjoy seeing all the bright faces ready to learn each year. I also like to teach things I’m passionate about.” Jayce beams, folding the craft in his own hands. “It’s humbling, so to speak.” He adds, lifting the craft towards the light, examining his handiwork. 

You turn your attention to look at him, glancing at his handiwork as well. It was perfect. You suppose after years of teaching and folding countless papers, you’d be good at origami too. 

“Well…” you trail, flipping the latest cut out craft in your hands back and forth. “Do you think you could teach me how to fold these as well as you do?” 

Jayce leaves the admiring of his completed craft to look over at you. He studies your face briefly. Eyes scanning over the softness of your face but then he smiles wide, nodding his head. “Of course I will,” Jayce says, chuckling a little before he scoots his chair over closer to you. “Can’t say no to you. Not when you ask so sweetly.” Jayce teases, holding his hand out towards the craft you hold. 

You suck in a sharp, shallow breath. If there ever was a time you wanted to throw out the rule book, it would be now. The way his voice dips when he speaks, specifically when he mumbles about how he can’t say no to you. You’re tempted to push that boundary, to see how far you really could go before he said no. Would it be kissing? Touching his thigh? Undoing his belt— 

Your palms sweat at the thought and you resist the urge to wipe them on your pants. Electricity tickles your spine but you ignore it, doing your best to instead tune into his teachings as you hand off the craft to the older man. 

And it was harder than it looked. 

You had watched Jayce first fold every inch of the craft up together, until it formed the shape it needed to, before attempting it on your own. The first few folds were okay, a little uneven but well enough you didn’t have to start over. But as you progressed, it fell apart faster and faster with each fold. Its intended purpose is to stand up by itself, without needing any support of some kind, but you clearly didn’t get that memo. Watching as your ‘finished’ project falls apart the second you take your hands off of it.  

Jayce sits watching, amused the entire time. He doesn’t laugh or say anything to tease you at your attempt. Yet he still smiles, entertained— but pleased— by you trying your best. And instead of taunting you, he just picks up the craft and unfurls it, smoothing out the edges and handing it back to you; silently telling you to ‘try again’.

It’s after your third attempt and your second mangled up craft that you’re damn near about to rip your hair out. Your patience wears down to a thin line as you can’t just quite grasp how to do what he’s telling you. You’re about to toss the craft back to him and just continue on cutting them out instead, but Jayce settles a hand on your wrist that stills you. 

His hand is warm, like the sun, despite the AC blasting in every inch of the room. Not to mention, his hand being almost larger than your entire wrist. The sight leaves you a little dizzy. 

“Here, let me see if I just can’t…” Jayce muses, lifting his other hand and attempting to guide your hands in the correct way. It’s slightly awkward with him sitting kind of in front of you, kind of beside you. Leaning over your hands, attempting to guide your fingers along the correct folded lines to complete the craft. But it’s just as messy as if you were doing it yourself; a little uneven here and there, folding the wrong line first, unfolding everything to start again. 

“I’ll admit it’s…a little more complicated to do backwards.” Jayce sighs, laughing at his own mess up. 

But you can’t focus on anything but his warm touch. And the way with every shift, his hands gently brush against your own. How easy he folds and turns and intertwines your fingers like it’s all casual to him. And it probably was casual to just him— and anything but casual to you. 

“Do you mind?” Jayce asks a little timidly, gesturing in the space between the two of you briefly. He gets up from his chair, loosening his grip ever so slightly, until he moves to stand behind you instead. He hangs into your personal space once again; and once again you feel like your entire body is radiating fire. 

He uses your fingers to unfold the half destroyed craft. His hands now lay over the entirety of yours, swallowing you in his grasp. 

“You start with this line here.” Jayce guides, smoothing the first fold into place. 

His words caress the shell of your ear, almost as if he’s speaking directly into it. He continues to guide your fingers to properly finish the party favor but you can’t focus on anything. Fuck all if you’d even be able to remember his teaching’s for the next craft anyway. 

Your eyes stare at his hands. The craft seemingly invisible, even in your own grasp. His fingers are tan, just like the rest of him, and thick. Twice the size of your own and it makes your insides flutter. Even the callouses built up on his hands from years of working brought  goosebumps flaring across your skin. 

After several folds later, you’ve imagined…far too many sinful things involving his hands to be considered appropriate, before Jayce interrupts your impure thoughts. 

“And this is the last fold.” Jayce hums playfully, clearly enjoying this. It was either because he enjoyed helping and teaching you to understand the craft, or it was because he knew he was making you squirm. 

You weren’t complaining. His hands were still tangled with your own. The entire interaction has you practically panting and out of breath, as if you’ve run a marathon. And that was either thanks to him touching you or your own inappropriate thoughts about him touching you…elsewhere. 

“See? Not so hard. You did great.” Jayce praises. You can’t see it but you can basically hear the smile he wears. Unconsciously, he rubs his thumb gently against the back of your hand. His other hand smooths down against your wrist. 

And the touch sends a river rushing through you. You press your thighs together, hopefully unnoticed, and chuckle a little nervously. “Yeah, thanks for the, uh, lesson.” You reply, just barely covering up your voice with another low laugh, just to hide the trembling behind your words. “I think I’m better at the, uh, other thing so…I’ll leave the folding to you.” 

Jayce laughs that charming laugh of his, hopefully oblivious to your woes; or maybe he was just faking it. Wanting to see you unravel beneath him. 

Without thinking, his thumb brushes against your skin once more as he shamefully lingers just for a moment longer, before he removes his hands from your own. And once he untangles from your body, cold sweeps in over you at the lack of his warmth. 

The sudden chill of the air conditioning rushes over you like a winter storm. Watching as he, the sun, moves to sit back in the chair he had gotten up from. And who knows how long ago that was. How long had his hands lasted on your own before he finally pulled away? It felt like seconds but also like an eternity— leaving you desperately wanting more. 

But this was not the time nor the place to act on whims. 

Shaky hands continue to work on just cutting out the crafts and handing them off to Jayce to fold. The feeling of his hands against your own replays in your mind like a distant memory. Hazy and foggy, leaving you dazed and questioning everything you’ve ever known. 

Meanwhile Jayce speaks enough for the both of you now. His words fill the space between the two of you while you manage to nod along, with the occasional ‘mhm’. 

It’s on the very last craft you cut out that you come back to your senses. Like you’ve just been woken up out of the sweetest dream.

“Is that everything?” Jayce asks, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 

“For now, at least.” You respond, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. You feel bad for tuning him out for the last…what you can only assume is an hour or better. “Thank you again, for everything. I really appreciate it.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I enjoyed it…and your company.” Jayce states in a tone you can’t quite recognize at the moment; but he moves on, standing up with a stretch towards the ceiling. 

You curse yourself for staring at the little bit of skin on his lower abdomen that reveals itself with his stretch. Ripping your gaze away and quickly pushing yourself up and out of your own chair, you keep yourself busy by collecting the several party favors you two had worked on. Gently putting them into a large box that happened to be lying in the craft room, unused, making sure they don’t come undone and ruin a lot of Jayce’s hard work. 

“Want me to carry it?” Jayce asks, handing you a couple of the crafts, gesturing to the box. 

You debate it for a second. He had already helped you with plenty and you’re not sure you could continue to ask more from him. Even if there was something…intimate you wanted to ask for help with, you wouldn’t. But it wouldn’t stop you from teasing him at least. 

You shake your head, smiling a little as you lift the box into your arms. “Not unless you want to carry me with it.” You flirt, glancing in his direction. 

Jayce pauses for a moment. His hazel eyes search your face. As if he’s trying to figure out if you’re serious or not; as if he’s mulling the idea over in his head. And after another heartbeat, a smirk splits his lips, flashing a sharp canine that makes your heart throb catching sight of it. 

“Tempting.” Jayce teases in a hushed voice. Speaking so softly you think for a moment you’ve imagined him saying it. 

You can feel your face burning the second the words leave his lips. You don’t get to respond though before Jayce is making his way to the door. He leaves you behind, breathless and speechless in every possible way; watching his back as he disappears into the hallway. 

⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔

After the tense afternoon, it felt like time moved slower. You had sat on edge anytime Jayce was near, as if waiting for him to tease you even more…or force you to change your underwear again. And yet you wanted to be near him. Craving and wanting his attention more and more with each passing moment. He was in every sense of the word, intoxicating. 

By the time dinner came around, your entire body was exhausted from wanting him so badly. 

You sit quietly at the table, enjoying the meal your dad had made after coming home from work. And while Jayce sits next to you— casually, as if you’re the only one going crazy for him— you pretend that everything is perfectly normal.  

“So what did you do today?” Your dad sarcastically asks, biting into the dinner he proudly made. 

“We cut out and made all those damn party favors you wanted.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as your dad laughs loudly. 

“Jayce was kind enough to help out too!” Your mom praises. 

Jayce embarrassingly waves off your mom’s words before rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It really wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t mind helping out and it was fun. I had a nice time.” Jayce comments, momentarily glancing in your direction, before returning his attention back to the meal. 

Your dad laughs again, nodding his head in approval. He had seen the finished product of the crafts for himself before dinner, so now he knew why they looked so well done. “That makes sense! Jayce has always been good with his hands.”

This time, you fucking choke. 

Air catches in your throat, throwing you into an abrupt coughing fit. You cover your mouth with your hand, turning your face away from every single pair of eyes that look at you at the sudden noise. You cough into your hand, reaching for the glass of water closest to you. Swallowing large mouthfuls in hopes to ease your coughing; it only helps a little. 

You’re in the final stretch of your coughing fit when a large, warm hand settles on your back. Jayce gently pats your back, attempting to help soothe your coughing, before his hand smooths down the curve of your spine. Then he repeats the same notion again, feigning innocence of just helping you out. You want it to mean so much more. 

You manage to clear your throat, finally calming down, yet Jayce lingers. He continues to rub your back, from your shoulder blades to the small of your lower back, until goosebumps begin to rise on your skin. He does it so effortlessly. Slipping into your bubble, touching your body, teasing you. 

“Are you alright?” Your mom asks, worry laced in her tone, as she hands you a napkin. 

At the sound of her voice, Jayce abruptly removes his hand. Once again, a chill creeps over your body at the lack of his warmth but you ignore it. Taking the napkin from your mother and wiping your mouth clean. 

“Yeah,” you finally respond, taking another breath to settle down— and not from the coughing this time. “Just swallowed wrong.” You lie. 

You didn’t really enjoy lying to your parents but it wasn’t like you could tell them the truth. Not after spending the entire day, day-dreaming about Jayce’s hands and fingers. How thick they were, how far they would reach, how wide they would stretch you—

After a few more seconds of silence, your dad continues on with his story as if nothing happened. Telling a story about how Jayce used to work on anything and everything mechanical or electrical; taking it all apart just to put it back together. Something innocent yet you could only imagine the worst of things.

For the rest of dinner, you don’t say a word. You manage to nod and hum occasionally in response but that’s it. When you finally speak, it’s only to tell your parents that you’re going to head to bed. You desperately needed to lie down, after everything that has happened. 

You leave behind the noise and cleanup and head back to the spare room, exhaustion setting into your bones with every step. Your body aches the second you throw yourself onto your bed. You immediately grab a pillow and curl up with it, taking a deep breath as you press your face into the pillow. 

It’s only moments after you’ve laid down and began to scroll on your phone, that Jayce enters the room. 

“Hey,” Jayce says softly, closing the door behind him, walking further into the room. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He hums as he takes a spot up on the very edge of your bed, sitting down beside you. Far enough to leave some distance but close enough either of you could easily close the distance, if needed. A warning, yet an invite. 

You smile, setting your phone down onto the pillow beside your head. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You respond, sitting up and leaning back onto the palms of your hands. 

“You looked a little…tired before leaving the table.” Jayce states, mirroring you by leaning onto the palm of his own hand. 

Of course he had noticed. He seemed to notice anything and everything about you, even when you tried so hard to hide it; he saw right through you. 

It makes you feel like you were the only thing in the entire room that he wanted to look at. Truly like a professor trying to solve a problem by memorizing every detail of the equation. 

You bite at your bottom lip, unable to meet his gaze. And you know he’s staring at you, even now. His gaze feels as hot as if it were his hands caressing your face. 

“I…” you attempt, trying and failing to come up with some kind of lie to tell him. Why were you tired anyway? Because your body had craved something it couldn’t have? Because you had craved him the entire day? Yeah, telling the truth was definitely out of the question. 

“Is it about what your dad said?” 

You suck in a sharp breath at his soft words. A heated blush crawls over your entire face. You swear you could feel the warmth of your blush spread to the tips of your ears and down the back of your neck.  

Jayce laughs at your reaction. He knew it was the truth, even without you saying a single word. “Don’t think too much of it.” Jayce chuckles, the hand he doesn’t lean on picks at some invisible piece of lint on the cover of your bed. 

With your curiosity piqued, you swallow a lump in your throat. Glancing between his handsome face to the spot he seemingly found so interesting at the moment. “Yeah? Why not?” You ask cautiously, finding your voice. 

Jayce stills in his digging at the blanket. Clearly you can see the gears in his head turning, debating on how he should answer. A second of eternity passes as you await his answer. 

“He’s right…but I’m out of practice.” Jayce finally says, clearly alluding to something else that didn’t involve cars or technology. 

Your heart throbs inside its confinement. It presses right against the curve of your ribs, hard enough you think maybe he can hear it drum. 

You barely see the blush highlighting his cheeks before he turns away and stands from your bedside. You watch his thumb rub circles into the inside of his wrist. He stands there, contemplating that whatever he’s about to say is the right— or the very wrong— thing to say. 

“Maybe…I could use a lesson. Or two.” Jayce finally mutters but he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he heads back to the bedroom door. His hand hovers over the doorknob, as if he wants to say more but instead he just dips his head and exits the room. 

He leaves you staring at his back once again. Always running away, right as everything was getting so good. 

You fall back into the fluff of your pillows, staring up at the ceiling with your heart now in your throat. For the rest of the night, until you finally succumbed to sleep, you would debate whether he was serious about the matter, or if he was just teasing you. To test you. 

And despite every god forsaken morale dilemma going on inside you at the moment…you hoped he was serious.

“Yes mom, I will be there. I plan to be back home tomorrow.” You sigh, phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. You flip over a t-shirt, folding it up all nice and neat before stuffing it into your laid out suitcase. 

“Well, I’m just making sure. It’s your father’s 45th and you know he’ll want to throw a party,” Your mother’s voice answers from the other end of the call. “And he will want to see his daughter there.” She adds in a sing-songy voice. 

“I know, I know.” You acknowledge, fishing out another shirt from your laundry basket to add to your suitcase. “I’m packing right now, ma. I’ll be there.” 

“Good now—” your mother begins to say before she’s interrupted by a loud call of her name. 

You move your phone to your other ear, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you listen to your mother yell at someone in the distance. Most likely your dad. Rolling your eyes as their bickering carries on back and forth for some time before your moms voice cuts back in over the phone. 

“Okay dear, I’ll leave you to it then. Text me when you leave, okay?” She sighs. 

“Okay mom,” you answer, picking off some lint from your pants. “I will see you tomorrow. Bye, love you.” 

You wait until your mother says goodbye before disconnecting the phone call. You toss your phone onto your bed before laying back onto the fluff of your blankets. 

If there was one thing you didn’t really want to go back home to, it was to a giant ass party. You could already see it now, your dad inviting the entire neighborhood and then some. You’d have to help host and cook and clean and…you’d rather stay in bed. But if you didn’t show up, there’d be sure hell to pay. 

You sit up with a groan, smoothing a hand across the back of your neck as you look towards your half-empty suitcase. You needed to finish packing and get to bed. 

The next morning comes and you’re forced to leave the little apartment you call yours. Traveling across state lines until finally getting back to your childhood home. When you arrive, you’re greeted by every bit of your family. Your mother is the first to rush to your side, hugging you briefly, before fawning over you. Cradling your head in her hands. 

“You haven’t been eating!” She exclaims, tossing your head from side to side— enough to almost give you whiplash. 

“Stop, stop,” you laugh, pulling her hands away from your face. “I’m just fine.” 

Your dad is there just a heartbeat behind your mom, taking your suitcase out of your other hand. “There she is!” He happily states, patting your shoulder before also giving you a hug. “You’ve been gone too long.” He says, scolding you. 

“A couple of months is not that long,” you argue back, handing off your bags to your father without protest. 

“It’s enough time to make some changes.” Your mom says, in a very suspicious tone. 

If there was something that had changed, about anything, your mom would’ve told you about it. She would’ve called you the second something did change…so whatever has happened, you weren’t going to like. 

“What did you do…?” You ask, glancing between your mom and dad. They stand with awkward little smiles before gesturing you inside your childhood home. 

“You’ve turned my room into storage? For your crafts?” You shout, staring at the mounds of boxes and unfinished projects littered about the room with wide eyes. 

No wonder why your mom didn’t tell you about this change just before you planned to come home and stay for a week. She knew you most likely would’ve pushed even harder to stay in a hotel instead, but now you couldn’t. You weren’t going to find a room for tonight anyway…and it’d be incredibly rude to find and leave for one tomorrow; so they’ve effectively trapped you. 

You groan, continuing to examine the room. Now it all could be salvaged as long as you had your bed—

You stare at two large workbenches shoved up against the wall where your bed used to be. And you’ve quickly regretted coming home. 

“Where’s my bed? Where am I supposed to sleep?” You gripe, turning to face your parents. 

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Your mom sighs, grabbing a stack of old magazines by the door and fixing up the messy pile.  

“Yeah, we’ve finally got the spare room set up for you!” Your dad adds as he enters the room behind you and your mom. And he no longer carries your luggage, presumably already dropping it off into the spare room down the hall. 

But the look on both their faces tells you there’s more bad news than just your entire room being deconstructed and you staying in the spare room. 

“And?” You ask, knowing the worst has yet to come. 

“That you’ll be sharing.” Your mom finally breaks. 

“Sharing?” You ask in disbelief. Your head falls into your hands and you rub harshly into your temples. 

“Well…your mom here surprised me by inviting an old college buddy over for my birthday.” Your dad joyfully says, giving your mom a sweet look as he tells the story of the first thing she’s gifted him for his birthday. “But he lives further away so he’ll be staying here with us for the next week or so.”

You try your best not to roll your eyes. Anger and frustration spreads beneath your skin like fire. So not only did you not have your own room to stay in for the week you’ll be home, you had to share the spare bedroom with someone you didn’t know. You genuinely think it cannot get worse but you won’t speak that thought into existence; knowing fate will just prove you wrong. 

There was no use in trying to fight it. You’d just spend more time outside reading by the pool or sitting in the hot tub than staying in the room. You had planned to get a little work done while you were staying here but that’s been scratched off the list. Unless you were entirely left alone, then you could maybe make it work…but that definitely wasn’t going to happen now. 

But then again, nothing left to argue about now— everything was already planned and done. 

“Come see the spare bedroom, it’s been updated!” Your mom cheerily says, trying to lighten the mood, as she turns to leave the room. 

You don’t say anything as you follow your parents out of the craft turned storage room. Turning right, just a step behind them, and walking all the way down the hall to the spare. The room is a dead shot down the hall. The last room left upstairs besides your old room, the bathroom, and your parents room on the other opposite side of the second floor. 

Your mom opens the door, stepping inside the spare room and moving to the closest window, opening the curtains. She lets some natural sunlight in while your dad flicks the big light on above, giving you a real good look at what you're working with for the next week. 

Surprisingly, your old bed is in fact in the spare room. The head of the bedframe is shoved up against the wall between both windows on the far side. On the opposite wall, by the closet, sits a couch; that somehow looks like it's straight out of a 90s magazine and brand new all in one glance. A tv is mounted on the wall that stares directly at your old bed, so at least there was that. Outside of the new furniture, the room has had a new paint job done to it too. A dark blue that reminds you of seeing the ocean at night. At least it was something you could enjoy looking at…and not something like neon orange. 

But you’re still puzzled by the one bed situation. 

“So we’re sharing a bed too?” You snark, grabbing your suitcase that your dad had dropped off by the door and moving to set it on top of your old bed. 

Your dad laughs, standing in the dead center of the room with his hands on his hips— clearly eyeing the handiwork he’s done. “No, we’re not that mean.” He teases, heading for the couch. He pulls up one of the couch cushions in your view, revealing the metal bars beneath the thick padding. “It’s a futon!” He proudly states before pressing the cushion back into place. 

“Wow,” you sarcastically say. “Went all out did you?”

Your dad shoots you a glare. 

“I think it’s nice.” Your mom chimes in, standing beside your dad with her arms crossed over her chest. She also proudly glances about the room. 

On one hand, making what you assume to be a late thirty year old sleep on a futon was…a little harsh. And you try really hard not to think about it because on the other hand…that meant you’d have to sleep on the futon. Your back twitches at the thought. Guess it was better than sleeping on the couch. 

“So,” you muse, rubbing the back of your neck. “When’s the party? Friday?” You ask, seeing as your dad’s birthday was this Friday and it was Sunday now. 

“Saturday, actually! We have lots of planning we’ll need your help with.” Your mom responds, glancing at your dad. 

Your dad opens his mouth to say something but all three of you are cut off by the sound of the front door bell ringing. 

“That’ll be him!” Your dad shouts in excitement, not waiting for you or your mom as he bounds off towards the stairs and off to the front door. Your mom leaves next, leisurely making her way back down the hall and to the right, heading back downstairs. 

You can hear the happy chirp in your dads voice as he greets the man you’ll be sharing a room with for the next week— unless he decides to leave for a hotel once knowing the sleeping arrangements. 

Might as well go and meet him, just in case he decides to stay. 

You leave the spare bedroom, following the long path to get to the stairs. You descend back down onto the first floor, curling around the stairs and making your way to the front door. 

Where you catch sight of your mother and father speaking to an incredibly handsome man who was insanely tall and fit for his age. 

As soon as you appear downstairs, your dad calls you over to introduce you to the handsome man.  

“Kid,” your dad says happily, pulling you by the shoulder to stand next to him and in front of the stranger. “This is my good friend, Jayce Talis.” He introduces, gesturing towards the man he speaks about. 

Jayce sticks his hand out for you to shake and you take it gently. Electricity shocks the very tips of your fingers when your hand touches his but the feeling is gone as soon as you both take your hands back. 

Up close, you’re officially allowed a good look at Jayce. His sun kissed skin, the sharpness of his jaw. His shaggy, dark-brown hair that curls at the back of his neck. The long beard to match but with the first signs of gray starting to show. The bright, pretty glint to his hazel eyes. Or the small scars on his face you suddenly get the urge to trace. 

Your heart flips back and forth. How dare he be your exact type while being twice your age and your dads friend.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Jayce pleasantly says, an easy smile on his face, shifting his bag from one hand to the other. “Your dad has talked about you a couple of times.” 

Dammit, even his voice was nice. 

He keeps his attention leveled with you, almost making you feel like your parents weren’t even in the same room— and it makes your heart pound. 

“That's…embarrassing.” You comment. You can already feel the spread of heat blooming across your cheeks. You didn’t really want to know exactly what your dad had told him so you just skip over the entire thing. Saving your own sanity by just staying ignorant. “Nice to meet you too.” You add, smiling back at him. 

“Well come in, come in!” Your mom says as she ushers Jayce inside. Guiding him towards the kitchen. 

“We can talk more over lunch.” Your dad says, mentioning that he had planned to cook some big meal filled with all of his favorites. 

You roll your eyes, being left behind as the other three disappear into the kitchen. You close the front door, locking it, before following in the footsteps that lead to the kitchen. 

⋆˚꩜｡⋆₊⊹

At lunch, you listened to your dad and Jayce, mostly your dad, retell far too many stories of their own college days for far too long. Hours worth of stories passed by until it was dinner time; where your mom opened a bottle of wine to share for dinner instead of making another meal. And then you listen to another hour's worth of them catching up before you decide to go shower. 

After your shower, you get dressed in the bathroom, leaving your robe in your bag— seeing as you won’t need it while sharing a room. Once changed into a simple tank top and a pair of shorts, you head for the spare bedroom, thankfully alone for the moment. 

You close the door behind you after your entrance, drying your hair with your towel as you make your way to the bed. You fold your leg underneath you as you sit down on the edge of the bed. Exhaustion settles into your bones as you replay the day in your mind. From the trip, to your childhood home and your parents, to finding out you were sharing a room. And at the thought of that, you can’t help but think of your sleeping arrangement “partner”. 

He was so handsome. His dark features; his soft and easy tone. Everything about him was exactly what you wanted in a man.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if he was married. He obviously hadn’t brought anyone with him. And probably wouldn’t have agreed to sleeping in a shared room with his buddy’s daughter if he was married too. You didn’t see a ring on his finger, either. 

You don’t know why you’re more than a little…excited at the thought of him having no partner. Not like you really had a chance with him. 

You sigh, annoyed, throwing yourself back onto your bed. You scoot up into the comfort of your pillows, fishing for your phone. You needed a distraction. You pull up the fantasy novel you’ve been reading, the fourth book in the series, and settle down to pick up where you left off. 

You’re thirty minutes into your book before a knock and the click of the doorknob catches your attention. You quickly look up from your phone, watching as Jayce timidly steps into the spare room. 

“Sorry to intrude.” He apologizes with an awkward smile, walking over to the bag he had left by the futon earlier. 

You stay quiet, turning back to the reading you had picked out for the night. You relax back into the fluff of pillows, attempting to mind your business.

“I,” Jayce clears his throat, interrupting your reading once again, while he stops in his own search inside his bag to look over at you. “I just…are you comfortable with this?” He asks softly. 

The question makes you blink. Was he just being nice or trying to make you feel bad? Either way, it was working on you.  

“I can sleep downstairs on the couch, if you’re uncomfortable.” Jayce adds. His tone is genuine and his gaze is soft. He was serious about leaving, if you were uncomfortable. 

Something in the back of your mind tells you to just go with it. Making a big deal out of nothing would lead to trouble so you’ll just leave it as is…and maybe something good can come out of it. Maybe you didn’t want him to leave. 

“It’s fine,” You finally respond. Not that you had a huge say in what goes on in this house anyway. But..it was kind of him to ask you nonetheless. “Plus, I think I’d feel like shit if you slept on the couch for a week.“ You add. 

Jayce laughs and you swear it sounds exactly what summer feels like. The warm sun but the cool breeze that follows with the wind. The flowers that bloom and the sound of the windchimes in the distance. It makes you feel light and fuzzy— or maybe just dizzy. 

“My back appreciates your kindness.” Jayce hums, turning to continue his search inside his bag. 

But you’re hesitant to return to your book. Watching him out of the corner of your eye. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you scan over his handsome features again. 

“We’ll get along fine…as long as you don’t snore.” You tease, a wide smile splitting your lips. 

Jayce glances in your direction, unable to keep his own smile from forming. “Well there goes my good luck,” Jayce chuckles, finally retrieving an extra set of clothes from his bag. “Guess I’ll be sleeping outside by the pool at this rate.” 

“Hmm, you’re on thin ice but I’ll allow you to stay.” You retort. Enjoying the charming smirk across his face. “Don’t push it though.” You add, watching as he crosses the room in three big strides. 

“I’ll try my best.” He plays along before he takes his leave, exiting the room and heading for what you assume is a shower. 

You stare at the door even after he’s gone. Your heart hums inside your chest. Struggling to wipe the smile off your face. At least, for now, the two of you would get along well and you could relax some of your worries. 

But now…something other than irritation and worry begins to tense your shoulders. 

You flop onto your side, going back to your phone and your book. Doing your best to ignore the giddy feeling of how…easy it was to talk to a man you just met.

for love and for life, we are not going back

No blood for oil

Earth Day

No Reagan

Silence = Death (Pink Triangle CW: the holocaust)

Nuclear Arms

Will Powers (the album)

NASA

The Hellfire Club and Peace sign pins are self explanatory <3

This started because @astrobei said "Mike's the type of guy to look intimidating in a leather jacket from behind, but he turns around and he's wearing a ghostbusters t-shirt" and @cherbearsz reminded me that Will would probably start wearing brighter colours again when he's starting to accept and love himself :')