#I heard it on the radio and got addicted briefly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 2 years

Text

All Too Well // Eddie Munson

request: none

prompts: none

summary: when you started dating eddie, it was the happiest time of your life. but as time went on, eddie started acting different. and the bond between the two of you suffered because of it.

warnings: language, mentions of drinking and drugs, mentions of drug addiction and substance abuse, chrissy’s eating disorder is mentioned briefly, self image issues, allusions to smut, eddie being an asshole, crying, hints at cheating, and a whole lotta heartbreak

word count: 11.6k

a/n: very off character for eddie, does not follow the plot of season four at all, starcourt didn’t burn down, gn!reader, i know it says he’s an asshole in the warnings but he’s not like that the whole time! there’s also no spoilers for season four!

this is the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i’m so incredibly proud of it! i hope you enjoy it!! :)

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold

But something 'bout it felt like home somehow

And I left my scarf there at your sister's house

And you've still got it in your drawer, even now

“Come on! Hurry up!” you called behind you as you ran towards Eddie’s trailer.

The two of you had thought it would be fun to go ice skating on Lover’s Lake, but the gentle snowfall soon grew heavier, and the thought of staying outside any longer made you feel like you were going to develop frostbite. Of course you both had the bright idea to walk to the lake, and now had to run back to Eddie’s trailer for shelter.

Your lungs burned, and your cheeks and the tip of your nose were going numb, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Though the date hadn’t been what you had planned, having to watch Eddie struggle to run in the snow was quite amusing. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle either.

When he finally caught up to you, Eddie unlocked the door and you both pushed inside, feeling the warmth of the trailer against your near frozen skin.

“It’s really coming down out there. I’m not sure you’ll be able to get home tonight,” Eddie said as he peeked through the blinds on the window.

You simply smiled as you pulled your scarf off, tossing it away not noticing nor caring where it went, you could always find it later.

“So, impromptu sleepover?” you asked, giggles breaking in through your words.

Eddie ran over to you and tackled you in a hug, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hissed at how cold his lips were, but you didn’t pull away.

“I like the way you think! I’ll make hot cocoa. Why don’t you pick out some movies?”

You nodded, a bright smile ever present on your face, and walked over to the stacks of VHS tapes scattered around the television. Excitedly, you searched through them, finding some of your favorites, and grabbing some of Eddie’s too.

Tonight was gonna be amazing.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze

We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

And I can picture it after all these days

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you said as you cranked up the volume on Eddie’s car radio.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you, feeling a smile begin to grow on his face.

“You like Metallica?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah! You never shut up about them, so I figured I might as well listen to them. Now I get it though, they’re really good!”

“And just when I thought you couldn’t get any more perfect!”

You laughed at his statement before turning your attention back to the radio. You didn’t know all the words, considering you had only heard the song a few times before. You tried your best to sing along, mumbling whenever you didn’t know the words.

Eddie smiled over at you, and soon enough he began singing along with you. Neither of you sounded any good, but you didn’t care. It was the most fun you’d had all day, having been stuck in a car heading to who knows where. Eddie said he wanted to go on a road trip without a destination. And while that seemed like a perfectly good way to get lost, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no given how excited he was.

When the song finally ended, you didn’t want to stop singing along. Eddie knew all the words to the next song, but you, having never heard it before, made up your own words, much to Eddie’s amusement.

“Making your own remix I see,” he said in between laughs.

“Damn right. It’s the new and improved version.”

“Well I wouldn’t say improved.”

“Excuse me?” You turned to face him, face growing hot with laughter.

The rest of the car ride was filled with awful singing, terrible jokes, and fits of never ending laugh that made both of your sides hurt.

And I know it's long gone and

That magic's not here no more

And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

You sat at a table at Scoops Ahoy, impatiently tapping your fingers against the surface. You and Eddie were supposed to meet for an ice cream date almost an hour ago, but he was nowhere to be seen. You had just about given up hope, and were debating on whether or not to just go home, when you finally saw Eddie walking towards you.

“Where were you?” you asked him as he sat down next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I was just about to leave,” you replied, hurt evident on your face.

“But I thought you said we were meeting at four?”

“Eddie, it's almost five.”

“Is it?” He checked his watch, and sure enough it read 4:57. “I’m sorry sweetheart, Hellfire ran long again, guess I just didn’t realize what time it was.”

You sighed and nodded. This is the third time this month he’d been late. It was starting to feel as if he’d rather be with his friends than with you. You didn’t mind it when he hung out with other people, but this was supposed to be your time together. And he kept spending it with people who weren’t you. It felt like he was starting to not care as much anymore.

'Cause there we are again on that little town street

You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking' over at me

Wind in my hair, I was there

I remember it all too well

“Eddie stop!” you yelled at him, jerking his attention back to the road.

Eddie quickly slammed on the breaks, stopping the car before running through the red light. Your eyes were wide as you looked ahead at the cars crossing through the intersection. You turned to look over at Eddie, only to find him looking at you with a slightly amused expression.

“Why didn’t you stop?” you asked, shoving his shoulder playfully.

“I was looking at something much more interesting than the road,” he retorted.

You felt your face grow hot when you realized what he was referring to.

“You can ogle me later Eddie! I’d really prefer to not get into a crash,” you replied, feeling laughter bubble up in your throat despite yourself.

“Fine, fine, fine! I’ll pay attention to the road,” he jokingly grumbled.

You laughed once more and leaned over to rest your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him, smiling.

“I love you, you dork.”

You kept your gaze on him, waiting for any sort of reaction. But he simply kissed your forehead without looking down at you. Even though you were the one who told him to keep his eyes on the road, it left you feeling a little deflated. You brushed it off, telling yourself that he must not have heard you. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that kept thinking otherwise.

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red

You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team

You told me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me

“Eddie, guess what I found?” Eddie’s uncle said as he walked towards the couch you and Eddie were sitting on.

In his hand he held a book that sort of looked like a photo album. Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands, seeming to recognize it instantly. His reaction only made you even more intrigued in the book, and its contents.

“What is it?” you asked, turning to Eddie.

He didn’t answer you, and instead continued to grumble into his hands.

“It’s his baby photos,” Mr. Munson said teasingly as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“Ooooh! I wanna see,” you said, excitement filling you at the thought of seeing how adorable Eddie looked as a baby.

“No, please don’t,” he whined, finally looking over at you and his uncle.

“Too late,” you replied with a smirk on your face.

Mr. Munson handed you the album, and you pulled in open, looking over all the photos. Your smile only grew wider as you took in all the adorableness. There was a photo of Eddie covered in spaghetti, having thrown it everywhere instead of actually eating it. Another one was of him in the bathtub with a beard made out of bubbles.

“Oh my god, you were so cute!” You giggled as you elbowed Eddie in the side.

His cheeks grew red at your words, and he desperately tried to pull the photo album out of your hands, but you moved it away and continued flipping through it, watching as he grew older in the photos.

“Ohhh, so this was the infamous buzzcut era,” you joked as you saw Eddie’s eighth grade yearbook photo.

Eddie only continued grumbling and pouting as you and Wayne continued flipping through the pictures, and continuing to poke fun at Eddie the whole time.

And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy"

Key chain on the ground, we were always skipping town

And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now

He's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was

“Eddie, can we talk?” you asked, turning to look over at him.

He kept his gaze on the road, but nodded to let you know he was listening.

You paused for a second, debating whether or not to go through with what you wanted to say.

“How come you never say you love me?”

You could feel the tension in the car grow as soon as the words left your mouth. Eddie still never looked over to you, but you noticed his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed to yourself before continuing, “I’ve been saying that I love you for a few months now, but you’ve never once said it back. I used to think you just kept not hearing me, but I know you have. You’ve heard it every time. Why don’t you say it back? Do you not love me?” Your voice broke as you finished speaking, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s all you have to say? Eddie, how can you not know whether or not you love me? We’ve been together for almost a year! Do you really not feel anything?”

“What do you want from me y/n? I said I don’t know! Can’t you give me some time to figure out my feelings?”

“I’ve given you time! I’ve given you months! Ever since I first told you that I loved you, I waited and waited for you to finally say it back! But you never do! And it hurts Eddie. It hurts so much.”

“Well I’m sorry that it hurts you, but I can’t just wake up and suddenly decide that I love you!”

His words were the last straw, and your tears finally spilled over. You reached up and tried to hurriedly wipe them away, not wanting to make a big deal out of them.

“Well if you don’t love me then why are we even together?” you shouted, all your pain and hurt bubbling up to your surface and spilling over.

“I don’t know,” he said sadly.

You looked out the window, not wanting to see him right now. Even though neither of you confirmed it, you could just feel that it was over. And you brought it upon yourself. If only you had just stayed quiet, and waited. Maybe things would’ve been better. But here you were, sobbing your heart out on a road in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a car with Eddie. When all you wanted to was be back home in your bed, away from him.

'Til we were dead and gone and buried

Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same

After three months in the grave

And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you

But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame

“Y/n, I’m sorry. Please just talk to me. I miss you.”

You stared at your ceiling, listening to the voicemail Eddie had left you. It had been almost a month since you both had called it quits, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even begin to move on. And here he was, calling you up and apologizing. You knew it was never a good idea to get back with your ex, especially considering how things ended. But in the moment, all you could remember were the good moments of your relationship.

Running through the snow together and then spending all night cuddled up together under a mountain of blankets and watching horror movies. Singing along horribly to the radio and making up your own words when you didn’t know them. Looking through his baby photos and calling him adorable just to see him blush.

You couldn’t bring yourself to remember all the times he showed up late, the growing distance between the two of you, the fact that he never once said how he truly felt about you. But in the moment, when you could only remember the good times, you couldn’t find a way to stop yourself from picking up your phone and calling him back. Consequences be damned, you missed Eddie, and you still loved him. And there was no way in hell you’d pass up a chance to get him back.

You sat up and reached for your phone, dialing the number you’ve called so many times. The phone rang a few times, and your heart was pounding so loud you could hear it. Finally the phone was picked up on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Eddie? It’s me.”

And I know it's long gone and

There was nothing else I could do

And I forget about you long enough

To forget why I needed to

As the weeks went on, you started to remember why things had ended with Eddie.

When you first got back together, things were amazing. You were happy again, and the two of you went back to how you used to be almost immediately. You didn’t care about the heartache he caused, or all the self-loathing thoughts. You finally had him back, and you didn’t want to think about the bad memories ever again.

But soon he started showing up to things late again. He never even acknowledged it, and he just went about as if you hadn’t been waiting for his arrival for over an hour. And he grew more distant again. There were less meaningful conversations, and car rides were spent in silence, except for the low hum of the radio.

You could feel rifts beginning to grow between the two of you, but you didn’t want to acknowledge them. You just wanted to be with Eddie, even if it meant forcing yourself to pretend to be happy. You didn’t realize just how much he was hurting you, because even throughout all the shit he put you through, your relationship still had its good moments. And you decided to blindly follow those moments, pushing down everything he did that hurt you.

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night

We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

Down the stairs, I was there

I remember it all too well

You were sat on the couch in Eddie’s living room, crying. You had just had another meaningless fight, and they were seeming to become more and more common as the time went on. You still loved Eddie, part of you thought you always would, but that didn’t change the fact that it still hurt every time you were caught in a screaming match.

You heard the door to his bedroom open, and you looked up to see Eddie walking towards you. His face held a solemn expression, one similar to the look on yours. Wordlessly, he grabbed your hands and pulled you up and into his embrace.

“Dance with me,” he said, beginning to sway the two of you.

“But there isn’t any music playing.”

“Who cares about that? We can make our own music.”

Eddie began humming a tune you recognized, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. You did your best to hum along with him as the two of you danced around the living room. Your tears subsided, and you felt yourself relax into his embrace.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he whispered softly.

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him tighter.

You could feel your sadness melt away, and all you could focus on was Eddie. How his thumbs gently rubbed circles in your back. How he pressed kisses along your hairline, while still humming the song. How his arms tightened around you when you pulled him closer. It’s like he knew exactly how to make you feel better. And even though you were mad at him earlier, you couldn’t be more grateful to be in his embrace.

And there we are again when nobody had to know

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Sacred prayer and we'd swear

To remember it all too well, yeah

You were sitting next to Eddie on the couch, the rest of his friends surrounding the two of you. There was some movie that Eddie had finally gotten on VHS and they were all dying to see it. Eddie invited you along too, not wanting you to feel upset since Saturday was usually your date night.

You brushed off your feelings about the change of plans, and focused on how excited Eddie looked. You didn’t even know what the movie you were watching was, nor what it was about, but you didn’t care. You had spent most of the duration of the movie admiring Eddie, and the excitement that flashed across his face throughout the movie.

You slipped your hand over to his, placing it on top and grasping it. But a few moments later, he pulled his hand away. Your heart shattered at the action as you watched him place his hand in his lap, away from you.

You turned away and looked at the ground beneath your feet, willing yourself not to cry. Not here. Not now, in front of everybody. Despite your efforts, you could feel your hot tears begin to fall past your eyes. You blinked hard a few times to push them out before mumbling some excuse and heading towards the bathroom.

Locking the door behind you, you placed your hands on the sink and looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were turning red and puffy, silent tears falling freely down your face. He pulled away from you. Despite everything, all of the shit he had put you through, all the fights, everything, never once had he pulled away from you before. Nothing else he had done had hurt as much as this.

You couldn’t stand to look at your reflection anymore, and instead leaned against the door, slowly sliding down until you were crumpled in a ball on the floor. You hugged your knees to your chest, letting yourself sob freely.

Well, maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece

'Til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well

“You pulled away! Why did you pull away from me?”

After all of Eddie’s friends had left, he had finally noticed that you hadn’t returned from the bathroom. He knocked on the door, and when he opened it he could tell that you were crying. He asked why, and your feelings exploded out, causing you to yell at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes you do! During the movie I grabbed your hand and you pulled away? Why didn’t you want to hold my hand? Did you not want your friends to see it?”

“I don’t know, I just did! Why would I care if they saw us holding hands? They all know we’re dating!”

“Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?” you asked again, softer this time, tears threatening to fall for a second time that night.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to hold your hand! I just pulled away! Does it really even matter?”

“Yes Eddie, it does matter! You’ve never pulled away from me before! We’re growing apart again!” Tears were streaming down your face at this point, all the pain you had felt earlier that night returning once more.

“I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of it! So what if I pulled away? It doesn’t matter! Why do you always have to start fights?”

“Oh, I’m the one starting fights? You never pay attention to me anymore! It’s like I’m not even there! You pick apart every little thing I do! It’s like I’m never good enough for you anymore! You always find something that I’m doing that’s wrong! You always feel the need to fix things that don’t need to be fixed!”

“God, what are you even talking about? Listen to yourself, you’re not making any sense!”

“I can’t do this anymore, Eddie! I’m tired of feeling worthless all the time! I’m tired of you acting like I’m not even there! I’m tired of you starting fights over nothing!”

Eddie fell silent for a moment. You felt hopeful, thinking that maybe, somehow you talked some sense into him. And maybe everything could finally go back to how it used to be. But your new found hope was short lived.

“Fine. If that’s how you really feel, then maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

“Eddie,” you said barely above a whisper, feeling your very being shatter.

He didn’t say anything else, not having anything else to say. You both stood there in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of everything you both had just said crash down on top of you. After a while, it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything to you anymore. You slowly walked over to the door, and turned around to look at him one last time before leaving, but he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Goodbye, Eddie.”

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'Cause I remember it all, all, all

“Please let me in. I’m sorry,” Eddie said from the other side of your door.

Your parents had let him into your house, not understanding the way things were left between the two of you. So here Eddie was, standing outside of your bedroom door, begging you to give him another chance.

“Things will be different this time, I promise. Just please, talk to me. I miss you so much. Open the door, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence and you could hear muffled cries coming from the other side of your door.

Just the thought of him crying made your heart ache. It hurt to know that you were the reason behind your tears. Which was kinda funny considering how many times he had made you cry. But his pleads and broken sobs only a few feet away from you were beginning to wear down your resolve.

“One last chance,” you thought to yourself.

You stood up from where you were sitting on your bedroom floor and slowly walked over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Your heart broke from how miserable he looked. Despite everything he had put you through, it still never failed to hurt when you saw him cry.

Wordlessly you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him flush against you. He wrapped his arms around you as well, tightening his grip as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” he muttered to you, still not letting go.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in return, not wanting to bring yourself out of this moment with him. You had missed his touch, longing for his embrace every single day you were apart. And now that he was finally back in your arms, you never wanted to let go.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell

Every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine

And that made me want to die

“God, you’re so childish! You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Eddie yelled as he walked outside, pulling you along behind him.

You pulled your hand away from him at his words, causing him to turn and look at you.

“It wasn’t nothing, Eddie! You’ve been avoiding me all night! I only went to that stupid party because you wanted to! But as soon as we get here, you leave me, and you’ve been doing god knows what since!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean! I saw Chrissy eyeing you up, and then I saw you walk off after her! What else am I supposed to think?”

“I didn’t walk off after her! Jesus Christ, you’re delusional! I should’ve known this was never gonna work,” he mumbled the last sentence to himself, but you still heard him.

You stepped closer to him, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to crying.

“What?” you asked him, barely above a whisper.

“I’m almost 21, and you’re not even 19 yet! Sometimes I just feel like you’re not mature enough to be in a relationship.”

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me Munson! I’m not mature enough? Me? Are you fucking serious right now?”

“See, here you go again! You’re always getting so worked up over nothing!”

“And you never care about anything! You never care about me, or anything I want! It’s always just you! We do what you want to do! We only hang out when you have the time! You never make time for me anymore!”

“So what? Am I not allowed to have friends anymore or something? Is that really what you’re saying?”

“I never said that!” You paused for a second, taking a deep breath, before turning around and heading back inside the house.

“Where are you going?” Eddie called after you.

“I need a drink.”

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

Not weeping in a party bathroom

Some actress asking me what happened, you

That's what happened, you

You stepped inside the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You could hear the cheers of drunk kids and the muffled thumping of the blaring music. You sat on the edge of the bathtub, and soon you felt tears begin to fall down your face.

The words you and Eddie had said replayed in your head. He always seemed to twist everything in his favor. He blamed you for everything, coming up with bullshit excuse after bullshit excuse to push the blame away from him. But his latest one hurt you the most. Your age gap? That’s what he decided to go with?

You would admit that it did feel a little weird to be dating someone almost two years older than you, especially after having just turned 18. But he always said that it wasn’t a big deal, that it was never a problem for him.

“Guess that was a lie,” you whispered to yourself, letting out a sad laugh.

You would spend the rest of the night hiding out in here if you had to, not wanting to face Eddie for a while. You had just barely calmed your tears, but the mere thought of speaking to him again brought them back full force. You heard a knock on the door and tried to quiet your sobs, hurriedly wiping the tears off your face.

“Y/n? You in there?” a voice on the other side of the door said.

You wanted to answer, but couldn’t find enough energy within yourself to do so. After a few moments, the voice spoke again.

“It’s Robin. Are you ok?”

Slowly you stood up and unlocked the door, feeling relief wash over you at the sight of your best friend. She stepped inside the bathroom and locked the door behind her. When she turned back to face you, you immediately pulled her into a hug, and began sobbing again.

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, gently rubbing you back as your sobs continued to wrack through you.

“Ed-Eddie,” you mumbled out through your sobs, struggling to say anything else through the force of your tears.

But the one word was enough of an answer for Robin. She knew everything he had put you through, having witnessed most of the fallout first hand. She didn’t try to get you to say anything else, knowing it would only make you cry harder. So she stood there with you, holding you close.

She wanted to tell you to leave him, to dump Eddie and stop going back to him. Find someone who cared about you, someone who loved you. Really loved you. But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that right now. You were already so upset, and she didn’t want to make it worse. She was going to have to wait. One day she would get through to you, and convince you to leave Eddie for good. But that day wasn’t going to be today.

You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes

Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show

But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come

And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

It was finally your 19th birthday. You were so excited, giddy from the thought of getting to see all your friends again. It had been a while since all of you were together in one place since you had all graduated.

The day was going absolutely perfect. You went to the movies with Steve, Robin, and Nancy, and the four of you had spent the rest of the day at the mall. Every time you suggested returning to your house, they pointed out another store, or some kiosk they wanted to stop at. You had a feeling they were stalling you, especially since your parents loved throwing you surprise parties. But you played along blindly, wanting to humor them.

By the time you had all headed back to Steve’s car, you had more shopping bags than you could carry. You, Nancy, and Robin decided to pile all of your bags on top of Steve, finding it absolutely hilarious when he struggled to carry them all.

After packing all of the bags into Steve’s trunk, you all piled back into his car. Steve was always a careful driver, but this was just insane. He was driving so slow, you were pretty sure that if you got out and walked you would arrive at your house first. But no one else seemed to notice, or at least they didn’t say anything about it. You figured that he was stalling again, so you decided that you wouldn’t mention it. If they really were going through all this trouble for you, the least you could do would be to not complain about it.

Almost an hour after having left the mall, Steve pulled up to your house. There were a suspicious number of cars lining the street, and all the lights in your house were turned off. Your suspicions had been right. You smiled to yourself as you hopped out of the car and walked towards Steve’s trunk to grab your bags.

“We can grab those later, let’s just head inside. Alright?” Steve asked, trying and failing to not look like he was up to something.

You nodded and followed the three of them to your front door. You put the key in the lock and turned it, pushing open the door. And just like you had thought, the lights turned on and at least twenty people jumped out and yelled, “Surprise!”

You faked as much surprise as you could muster, pretending like you didn’t have this whole thing figured out hours ago. You were pretty sure everyone knew that you knew, but if they didn’t want to mention it then neither would you.

You looked around at everyone there, feeling your smile grow wider as you saw family members and friends from high school, both of which you hadn’t seen in a while. But there was one person you didn’t see hanging out amongst the small group of people. And though you were incredibly grateful for everyone who did show, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt that Eddie wasn’t there.

It was as if Robin could read your mind, and she slid up right next to you.

“He said he was just going to be a little late. I’m sure he’ll come,” she said, trying to be hopeful.

You nodded, trying to believe what she had said. But as the time went on, and the party was slowly winding down, you could feel yourself losing hope. Even when you were blowing out your birthday candles, your eyes were locked to the front door, wishing that Eddie would show up.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

It had been almost a week since you and Eddie had broken up for the third time. And you were serious when you told yourself that you wouldn’t be giving him any more chances. You had barely left your room at all that week, not having the energy to even get out of bed some days.

You and Eddie had been together for almost two years, and now it was just over. He was the biggest chapter of your life, but now you had to start anew. And you didn’t have a clue where to start. You were so lost without him. It was like everything made you think of him and the time you had spent together.

But you knew that laying in bed mourning wouldn’t do you any good in moving on. If you really wanted to get over him, you would have to get rid of everything that reminded you of him. Which turned out to be harder than you had thought.

You grabbed an empty cardboard box from the garage and brought it back to your room. And then you got to work. You decided to start in your closet, digging through your clothes and finding everything that was Eddie’s. You found one of his leather jackets, his hellfire shirt, and a countless number of band shirts you had stolen during your many sleepovers. You folded all the clothes up and placed them in the box.

Then you turned your attention to your vanity. Stuck on your mirror was a photo booth strip from one of your first dates with Eddie. You smiled sadly as you gazed upon it, feeling both nostalgia and pain wash over you. You set it down, and you glanced over to the small box that sat upon your vanity. Pulling it open, you found numerous polaroids that you and Eddie had taken together. There were some from different dates you had gone on, candids you had sneakily taken of each other, photos from your sleepovers and the pillow forts you had made, and even a few dirty ones that Eddie had suggested the two of you take. Your stomach fluttered a bit when you saw them, but you pushed the feeling away.

You took all of the polaroids out of the box and picked up the photo booth strip again, tossing all the photos in the box on top of his clothes. You now found yourself standing in front of your dresser. A few framed photos of you and Eddie scattered the surface, and the sight of how happy you used to be only made your heart break even more. You turned the frames facedown and stacked them to one side of your dresser.

Your attention then turned to your jewelry stand that stood on your dresser. With shaky hands you reached for the guitar pick necklace Eddie had gifted you. He saw you admiring his own, so he made you a matching one. You used to wear that necklace everyday, but you had barely even touched it in the past few months. You picked it up, along with the locket Eddie had gifted you that had his initials on it and held a picture of the two of you inside. The bottom of your jewelry stand had a ring tray, but only one ring sat upon it. Eddie’s skull ring. You had loved to fiddle with his rings, so one day he slipped one off his hand and onto your own. Just thinking back to that moment had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You grabbed the jewelry and picture frames, placing them both in the box.

You spent the next hour digging around in your room, finding everything that either belonged to Eddie or had a memory with him attached to it. You were about to put the lid on the box when you turned to look at your bed. On top of your pillow was the teddy bear Eddie had won you on your very first date. It was the fourth of July fair the town had thrown, and that night held some of the greatest memories you’ve ever had. You and Eddie had spent the whole night wandering around, playing games, going on rides, and stuffing yourselves full of junk food. He had even kissed you for the first time on top of the ferris wheel.

You picked up Mr. Snuggles and hugged him tightly one last time, before placing him in the box. You picked up the lid and admired the contents of the box one last time. His clothes, the jewelry, all the photos, every single love letter and note he had written you, every gift he had ever given you, and now, Mr. Snuggles. Sighing to yourself, you placed the lid on the box, and carried it out of your room. You had gone through all the trouble of packing everything up, you might as well go and give it to him.

When you stepped outside of your front door, you saw a package sitting by the doorstep. You placed the box you were holding back down inside your house and picked up the package. It was addressed to you, but there wasn’t a return address. Curious, you carried it back to your room and sat on your bed, opening it.

Your heart broke even more, if that was even possible, when you saw the contents of the box. It looked like Eddie had the same idea that you did, but he didn’t even have the decency to deliver it to you himself, he had decided to mail it.

You carefully pulled the contents of the box out, feeling memory after memory resurface. Most of the box contained your clothes, since you had a tendency to forget something every time you slept over. There was also your old hairbrush, a package of your makeup wipes, one of your old perfume bottles, and some of your makeup that you thought you had lost.

You thought that was everything, but something shined slightly along the edge of the box. You turned it around and saw the Metallica record you had gotten Eddie last year for Christmas. You waited all night outside a record store to get a signed copy for him. He was so happy when he saw you had gotten him a Metallica record, but he absolutely lost it when he saw that it was autographed. But the fact that he just gave it back to you? It made you feel like you had done all of that for nothing.

He had claimed it was his most prized possession, but yet he had given it back. And for some reason, that’s what confirmed it for you. That you and Eddie were really over. Part of you had always hoped that maybe he’d come back to you, having really changed. But that sliver of hope you had held on to was gone now. And the reality of it all finally sunk in. You and Eddie were over. For good. And nothing was ever going to change that.

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week

'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me

You can't get rid of it

'Cause you remember it all too well, yeah

You walked into Starcourt, feeling extremely excited. It was only a few days into November, but you were already doing some Christmas shopping. You had been brainstorming the perfect gifts for everyone for the past few months, taking note of anytime they said they wanted something. And now here you were, buying the perfect presents for your friends.

Giving people gifts was your absolute favorite part of the holiday. And so what if Christmas was well over a month away? You couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer, not wanting to risk running out of time. You looked at all the stores surrounding you, trying to decide which one to enter first. You had a list of what you were going to get everyone in hand, and were trying to figure out which store you should go into first, when you saw him.

Eddie Munson.

You hadn’t seen him since your final breakup last summer, but here he was. Hanging out in the food court with Jeff and Gareth. You couldn’t help but stare for a minute, just overwhelmed with all the feelings of suddenly seeing him again. Gareth looked up and saw you, waving before turning his attention back to the conversation he was having with Eddie and Jeff.

You waved back and began to walk away, grateful Eddie didn’t turn around to see who his friend waved to, when you noticed something. Eddie was wearing a scarf. Which you thought was weird, considering he said he hated the feeling of them. You turned back to look at it once more, and you could almost swear that your heart stopped. The scarf he was wearing was yours. It was the one you had left at his house after getting snowed in. The two of you spent hours looking for it, but you never found it.

Now you finally realized why. He had kept it. He had held on to your scarf for two years. Even when you had broken up and returned each other's things, he kept your scarf. He had to have known it was yours, your grandmother had stitched your name into the corner.

You decided it was finally time to walk away, but the whole time you were shopping it never left your mind. Why did he still have your scarf? And why was he still wearing it? But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't think of any answer other than him missing you. You fought the urge to go find him, despite desperately wanting to. Talking to him again would only make things worse. And you couldn’t deal with losing him again.

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there

I remember it all too well

Seeing Eddie with your scarf had left you shaken up for the rest of the day. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even when you got back to your room and collapsed on top of your bed, Eddie was still stuck in your mind. And even though you didn’t want to reminisce about it, your thoughts wandered back to the last conversation you had with Eddie.

“You didn’t show up! You promised me you would be there! I waited all night for you, and you never even called to apologize, or even explain!” you had screamed at him, tears streaming down your face.

It was the day after your 19th birthday, and Eddie decided that it would be a good idea to show up at your house, despite missing the event the day prior.

“God, how many times do I have to apologize! I said I was sorry!”

“But you don’t really mean it! You never do! You’re always late! To everything! But this time you didn’t even show up at all! And the only thing you have to say is sorry?”

“Well what else do you want from me?!”

“I don’t know, an explanation!”

Eddie sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m not dealing with this. The second I tell you, you’re gonna start attacking me all over again. It never ends with you!”

“Where were you?!” you asked him once more, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness bubble up within you.

“I was with Chrissy, alright?! She wanted some weed, so I sold her some. We got to talking, and before I knew it, I had missed your party. There! You happy?”

You froze as the words left his mouth. He missed your birthday party, the one he promised he would attend, because he was with Chrissy?! You could feel the anger within you rise, and you began to shout at him.

“You were with Chrissy?! Are you serious?! You missed my birthday because you were hanging with Chrissy?! God, Eddie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Eddie went to say something, but you cut him off, wanting to get all of your thoughts out.

“I’ve dealt with this long enough. I’m done with the way you’ve been treating me! You never show up to my things, you never care about my feelings, and you just keep lying straight to my face! I’ve never missed any of your events, your birthdays, anything! I sat through every single Hellfire meeting because I wanted to make you happy! I did everything I could to make you happy! But it was never enough was it?

“All I’ve wanted is for you to be happy. And do you know why? Because I love you Eddie! I’ve loved you since you kissed me at the top of the ferris wheel, and I’ve been falling more and more in love with you every day! And despite all the bullshit you’ve put me through, you’ve never once said it back! Not once! Do you even know how that makes me feel?”

“How can you expect me to say I love you if I don’t?! You can’t just force your feelings onto me, and expect me to feel the same way!”

You paused, all your anger suddenly disappearing and being replaced with the most heartbreaking sadness you’ve ever felt

“You don’t love me?” you asked, your voice falling to barely above a whisper.

Eddie stayed silent, looking past you instead of meeting your eyes.

“Have you ever loved me?” you asked again.

But as the seconds went by and Eddie remained silent, you got your answer.

“Fine. Well I guess there’s no point being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t feel the same.”

“Are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” Eddie asked, scoffing slightly.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

You brought your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face. Reliving the memory brought back all of the feelings along with it. You thought you were over it, over him. But you were wrong. He had left an imprint on you that was much deeper than you had thought it was. And there was a part of you that had begun to think that you might never truly get over him. You would just soon be able to live with the pain.

Wind in my hair, you were there

You remember it all

Down the stairs, you were there

You remember it all

It was rare, I was there

I remember it all too well

Eddie laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. You were there. You were right there, and he didn’t even get to see you.

When he saw Gareth waving to someone from behind him, he went to turn around but Jeff told him not to. Once you had walked away, they told him that you were there. Eddie knew they were just trying to protect him, but he still wished that he could’ve seen you.

He just wanted to see you again, to apologize for everything. He had been such an asshole. A few months into your relationship, Eddie decided he wanted to try something harder than weed. He talked a big game to his customers, but he’d actually never done anything other than smoke. But unfortunately, once he started, he couldn’t get himself to stop.

The majority of the rest of your relationship was spent with him being high out of his mind. He didn’t want to tell you what he was really doing, so when he showed up late he tried to brush it off. And he had a tendency to be more defensive than usual when he was high, so anytime you confronted him, it turned into a fight.

He wanted to stop, truly he did. But it was just so hard. He had begun pulling away from you, figuring that keeping you at an arm’s length would be safer for the both of you. But he had only ended up hurting you in the process.

Chrissy knew about his problems, and had offered to help. She had gotten over bulimia, and while being “addicted” to vomiting wasn’t the same as a drug addiction, she wanted to try to help him anyways. Eddie had been trying to get clean for you before your birthday, but that night he had really bad withdrawal symptoms. He spent the whole night with Chrissy, struggling through them, only to have you dump him the next day, which made him relapse.

He never said “I love you” either, even though he did. He loved you so much. But he was just scared. Saying the words would make everything real, and if he fucked up something real it would only hurt him even more. Only now does he realize how fucked up it was to never say it back, especially after having been together for almost two years.

He had ruined everything, and all because he was scared. He was too scared to come to you for help. He was too scared to admit his feelings. And he was too scared to tell you the truth. But none of that mattered anyways. It was too late now. And you were gone, for good.

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes

"I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age"

From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones

I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight

Only a few days after you saw Eddie at the mall, you saw him again. This time he was just walking past you on the sidewalk. But he wasn’t alone. Chrissy was walking right beside him, and the sight of them together broke your heart.

You had alway thought that maybe he had been cheating on you with her. And who would even blame him? Chrissy was so much prettier than you were. She was well liked, confident, and gorgeous. She was cheer captain in high school for crying out loud. Of course Eddie would rather be with her than with you.

Hurriedly, you walked past them, not wanting to witness the two of them together anymore. You had walked away so fast you hadn’t noticed that Eddie was still wearing your scarf. Or that he looked so happy to just see you. You hadn’t noticed the hopeful look that crossed Chrissy’s face when she saw you walking towards them. She grabbed Eddie’s arm and was trying to convince him to talk to you, when you blew right past them.

Eddie’s face fell as he turned around and watched you walk away. He didn’t even want another chance. He just wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain himself. He was almost two weeks clean, which was a new record for him, and was finally feeling ready to talk to you about it. But you were already gone.

“It’s alright Eddie, you’ll get another chance,” Chrissy said, trying to be positive.

Chrissy’s optimism was one of the things that really helped him overcome his addiction. No matter how many times he messed up and relapsed, she never gave up hope in him. But now her optimism was only bringing him down. Would he get another chance to talk to you? Would you even let him talk to you? What would he even say? He had so much to apologize for, he didn’t even know where to begin. But from the way things were looking, now he might never even get the chance.

And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?

Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too?

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, his back pressed against the wall as he clutched your scarf in his hands. He held it close to him as tears began to fall down his face. The way you had looked at him earlier that day, that mix of sadness and betrayal, it wouldn’t leave his mind. All he could see was the pain on your face. And it hurt him even more to know he was the one who caused that.

He missed you so much. So much so that it physically hurt him. Some nights he couldn’t even sleep in his bed because it made him think of you. You had made so many memories with him inside his bedroom walls, and everytime he stepped foot into his room, he remembered them all.

The time he had tried to teach you how to play guitar, but you had made no progress since the both of you couldn’t stop laughing. The first time you had made a pillow fort on this bed, and the second time, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth. Countless mornings spent tangled together, just soaking up each other’s presence. And all the intimate moments you had shared on this very bed. He remembered all of it. Everywhere he looked brought up a different memory of you. He couldn’t escape it, and despite how much it hurt, he didn’t want to. He was grateful for the memories, because even though you were gone, he could still relive all the happy moments he had with you, even if it was only in his head.

All he wanted was another chance. But he knew he could never put you through that. He had already hurt you so much, and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. Even if he was clean now, he knew getting back with you was a bad idea. He didn’t want to risk relapsing and hurting you again, and he didn’t want to have to drag you back into the mess he called his life.

So he would just have to learn how to live without you. Even though he knew it wouldn’t be possible. He could survive without you, sure. But he would never be able to live. Not when you were the only person who ever truly made him feel alive.

'Cause in this city's barren cold

I still remember the first fall of snow

And how it glistened as it fell

I remember it all too well

You sat on your bed, staring out of your window and watching as the snow fell to the ground. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the time you and Eddie spent all day outside in the snow before getting snowed in at his trailer. That was still one of the best days of your life.

You taught him how to ice skate, and even though he was still horrible at it by the end of your lessons, he was at least falling over a lot less. You had decided that you wanted to make a snowman, and you had challenged Eddie to a snowman building contest. But just as you were about to finish your snowman, a snowball hit your back.

You turned around to find Eddie facing the other direction, attempting to look busy, but you saw right through him. You quickly made a snowball and chucked it at him. You had both forgotten about the snowmen you were building, and ended up having the most epic snowball fight of your life. And you had won of course. He claimed that he let you win, but you knew the truth.

When you laid on the ground to make a snow angel, the snow soon began to fall harder, and the wind picked up. You and Eddie grabbed your things and took off running for his trailer, not wanting to get caught outside in the snowstorm. After you finally got back, and changed into some of his pajamas, Eddie handed you some hot cocoa and then you spent the rest of the night watching movies, cuddled together on the couch, until you both fell asleep.

Even now, two years later, every time you saw snow you couldn’t help but think of that day. Looking back on the memory, you felt yourself smiling. Maybe your relationship with Eddie wasn’t all bad.

Just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well?

Just between us, do you remember it all too well?

Just between us, I remember it all too well

“Ok, so you don’t want to talk to them?” Chrissy asked, looking at Eddie from across the picnic table.

Eddie nodded.

“But you still want to apologize?”

“Yep,” Eddie replied.

He was beginning to feel hopeless. He knew you would never talk to him again, but he still wanted to apologize. He felt like he owed it to you. A proper apology for all the bullshit that he put you through. But he had no idea where to start. So he called Chrissy and asked her to meet him at the picnic table in the woods.

They spent the first half an hour just trying to figure out what he should say, when he said that doing it face to face wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Hmm,” Chrissy thought, tapping her figure against her chin. “What about calling them?”

“It’s the same thing. They’d hang up before I could even get two words out. This is hopeless!”

Eddie sighed, and put his head down on his arms which were folded up on the table. Chrissy stayed silent for a minute, pondering another way he could apologize and actually get you to hear him out.

“Not necessarily. I think I have an idea! Come on!” Chrissy stood up and walked to the other side of the table, pulling Eddie up as well.

“Where are we going?” he grumbled, following her as she dragged him through the woods.

“Back to your trailer. I think I finally figured something out!”

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it all too well

“Do you really think it’s gonna work?” Eddie asked, looking up at Chrissy who was standing beside him.

Eddie sat at the kitchen table, his notebook open in front of him, and holding a pen in his hand. Chrissy had suggested that he write you a letter. That way he could say everything he wanted to say, and if he didn’t sign it until the end, then hopefully you would read it instead of throwing it away immediately.

“Yeah, I do! And besides, what’s the worst that could happen? They don’t read it? Then we try something else! They deserve an apology, and I know you really want to give one to them. I’m not going to give up that easily, and I’m not going to let you either!”

Eddie smiled at Chrissy’s words. It had been a while since he’d had a friend this dedicated to helping him. Sure he had Jeff and Gareth, but when he told them about having been dumped by you for the final time, they just said that it sucked and that they’d help him move on. Which sure, that was nice and all, but Chrissy wanted to help him make things right. And that meant so much to him.

So he began to write. First he just wrote down everything he needed to apologize for, wanting to make sure that he didn’t forget to include anything in his letter. By the time he had finished, the list was very long. But he didn’t want to leave anything out. He wanted to apologize for all of it. Then he began to draft. He had written ten letters already, deciding that each one wasn’t good enough.

“It’s ok. You got this Eddie,” Chrissy reassured him.

Eddie flipped to the next blank page and began writing once more. He made sure he apologized for everything that he needed to, but he didn’t stop there. He came clean about everything. About his struggles, his feelings, and why he had begun to pull away from you. He knew he didn’t deserve another chance with you, but he still wanted you to know how he really felt.

When he had finally finished, the letter was almost three pages front and back. It was a lot longer than he had expected it to be, but that didn’t matter. He had said everything he needed to say and then some. Now he just hoped that you’d read it.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it

Eddie and Chrissy walked to your house, which wasn’t that far from the trailer park. Memories of the last time Eddie had been there played in the back of his mind. He could feel his heart pounding as he got closer to your front door. Chrissy stayed at the end of your driveway, wanting to let Eddie do this by himself.

His hands were shaking as he arrived in front of your door. Anxiously, he turned around to look at Chrissy, who nodded encouragingly, and gave him a thumbs up. Eddie took a deep breath in as he turned to face your front door once more. He placed the letter on the ground right in front of the door, and then he rang the bell. He quickly ran back down the driveway, and he and Chrissy hid behind a car that was parked on the side of the road, watching the front door and hoping that you would get the letter.

Only a few moments later, your front door opened to reveal you standing behind it. You looked around outside, a bit confused, before your gaze fell to the letter on the ground. You picked it up and saw your name written on the envelope. There wasn’t any address or stamp, so you figured that whoever had written this had hand delivered it.

You went back inside, letter in your hand, and walked towards your bedroom. After sitting down on your bed, you stared at the envelope in your hands for a good few minutes. Something about the whole thing seemed strange to you. Like whoever had written you this letter had deemed it so important, that not even the post office could be trusted with it.

You had half a mind to throw it out, not wanting to bother reading a letter from some stranger. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you pulled the letter out. You unfolded it and saw that it was three pages long.

Before you could even read it, you recognized the handwriting. It was Eddie’s. You felt like you should’ve just thrown it out, not wanting to bother hearing anything that he had to say. But that fact that the letter was both hand written and hand delivered made you realize that it might actually be important. So you began reading.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it

Dear y/n,

I know sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it. Especially after everything that I’ve done to you. To us. But I just had to apologize. For everything. Or at least everything that I can remember. I’m sure that there’s more that I don’t, but I’m sorry for all of that too.

I’m sorry for being late all the time. I’m sorry for not showing up to any of your things, but still expecting you to show up to mine. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve lied, and all the times that I’ve made you feel crazy because of that. I’m sorry for leaving you alone at parties, without giving you the real reasons why. I’m sorry for pulling away from you, emotionally and physically. I’m sorry for all the fights. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry for every single time that I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry for never telling you the truth. And I’m sorry for never saying I love you.

That’s my biggest regret. Never getting to tell you how I truly felt, because I was just too scared to say it. But I do love you y/n. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. I love you so much it scares me. That’s why I never said it back. I was scared that if I said how I felt, then you would suddenly wake up and realize you didn’t want me anymore. And I knew that saying how I felt would only make it hurt that much more if we broke up. Well look where that got me, huh?

And I’m sorry for never telling you why I was acting the way I was. I was too scared to go to you for help, so I went to Chrissy instead. That’s why I left you alone at that party when I followed her off, and that’s why I missed your birthday party. The truth is, I was struggling. A few months after we started dating, I started doing more than just weed. And I got addicted. It was really bad. I didn’t realize it then, but being high all the time turned me into such an asshole. And you didn’t deserve that.

I tried to get clean before your birthday, but the night off I was going through horrible withdrawal symptoms. Chrissy came over and helped me. And I went over to your place to apologize the next day, but I was too scared to tell you the truth. And then you ended things. I relapsed again after that, but then I realized that it would never make me feel better. Drugs are what ruined everything in the first place.

I finally got clean after that. And I haven’t relapsed since. I wanted to apologize to you when you were walking past Chrissy and I, but you walked off so fast. And I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

This was the only way that I could think of to apologize without you running away. Well technically Chrissy thought of it, but I wrote the letter so that has to count for something!

I’m not asking you for another chance. I don’t deserve that. And you definitely don’t deserve having to put up with my shit again. I just needed to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you so many times, and that’s one of my biggest regrets. I never wanted to hurt you. But I did, and know I have to live with that. But I just hope that this makes things better. Even if you never want to talk to me again, that’s fine. I just need you to know how sorry I truly am.

I hope you have a great life, y/n. I hope you find someone who loves you, and treats you better than I ever did. I hope that you find real happiness, and that no one ever hurts you like I did. Because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve the world and more! And I hope you find someone who can give it to you.

I’ll always love you, y/n. I always have and I always will.

Love, Eddie

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it all too well

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thenukacolachallenge · 3 years

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Cash and Dead Money headcanons:

-Cash grew up as a caravan guard’s daughter, so she was familiar with the legend of the Sierra Madre from a very young age. she always bragged as a child that she would be the one to collect the treasure of the long lost casino. she forgot about this brag as she grew up, but she was reminded of it briefly during her miserable time with the Scorpions, since the Monte Carlo Suites, their base of operations, had a poster of the Sierra Madre in their halls. she still remembers the chills she got when she was tinkering with her Pip-Boy’s radio one day and she heard the voice of Vera Keys and the input of the coordinates for the signal.

-more than even the treasure itself, Cash, being an adventurous sort, wants to explore the casino, find its secrets, learn the story. she ends up regretting this a lot as she uncovers everything that the resort has to offer her when she actually arrives.

-she knows who Elijah is from the beginning, being very close with Veronica and in the midst of helping the Mojave Brotherhood of Steel chapter when she finally gets the signal. she’s also been to Helios One with Arcade, and discovered Elijah’s history there and learning about exactly what ARCHIMEDES did, and why Elijah wanted it. she knows from that point she’s in deep shit, remembering Veronica’s description of the man. she also knows he’s a dead motherfucker when she catches up to him, since one of her biggest triggers is being forced into servitude.

-Cash is a hardy motherfucker, and adapts to the harsh environment quicker than she expects. she normally eschews pre-war food for more fresh options, like Ruby Nash’s casserole or a wasteland omelette, but she learns to really appreciate the convenience of the former during this time. she learns to keep a Cosmic knife on hand at all times to sever the limbs of Ghost People, make sure they don’t get back up, especially since she never lets Dog out. she almost cries when she finds pistols and ammo in the Villa police station, being mostly a regular gun user and having no idea how to wield the Holorifle.

-she is absolutely terrified of Dog/God, especially the God persona. she also hates his constant quips about her getting what she deserved by coming here. even so, she agrees to work with him, because she has to of course, but also in the hopes that maybe if she does so he’ll eventually stop with the threats.

-on the other hand, she fucking HATES Dean Domino, and immediately cannot resist bickering with the ghoul, which of course causes him to turn on her later. she has no qualms about killing him in the end, especially after she finds out about his blackmailing of Vera Keyes’ med-x addiction.

more as i continue to play through~

#OC: Cash Black #this is partially for my own records and also to see if i can work this dlc into her modern au #'i wont write anything else this week' i said LIKE A LIAR #fnv #fallout new vegas #dead money #fallout oc #fnv cash

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

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speak now - rafe cameron

it’s the day of your wedding and, even though it’s been two years, you can’t stop thinking about the one who got away. little do you know he’s also consumed with thoughts of you and he’s not ready to give up just yet

warnings: angst with a happy ending

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is the fic i wrote for pen on imessage, everyone say thank you to @girlsru1eboysdroo1 for the fact that this isn’t totally depressing!! i emphasized her favorite lines just for fun, i always wanted to write a fic with this trope so here it is, enjoy!!

You had loved Rafe Cameron your whole life, and truth be told you probably always would. But, he wasn’t yours to want anymore and you weren’t his. In fact, you were silently freaking out in a small room of a church, thinking about the one who got away as your fiancé stood at the end of the aisle.

It wasn’t fair to Chris. Chris, who was so sweet, so kind. Who supported you through thick and thin. Who uprooted his whole life to follow you to the grad school of your dreams. Who held you and loved you and treated you right. Chris, who would probably do anything for you if you only asked.

That was the thing though, with Rafe you never had to ask. He had known you better than you had known yourself, could predict when you needed him and what exactly you needed. He could feel the shift in your energy after a bad day at school or work, and was always ready to cheer you up, whether it was shitty fast food and shittier reality television or his sometimes gentle touch.

Rafe had known you and loved you, all the parts of you. Not just the good that Chris so often praised you over, your kind heart and selfless attitude. But also, the parts of you that you felt you had to hide, your petty jealousy, your quick temper. He loved not only your beautiful parts, but every scar and every flaw too.

But Rafe had let you down, too. His own temper and irrationality got him into trouble on more than one occasion, and all you had wanted was for him to let go of old hurts. You understood his insecurity stemmed from years of never being good enough for his father, Ward Cameron was a son of a bitch who had ruined the self-esteem of the boy you loved. Ultimately it was a combination of both that spelled the end of your relationship. A screaming match where he had projected his own inner turmoil onto you, certain that you could never truly love someone like him. He had said things he couldn’t take back, and you had packed your bags that night, never to step foot in his apartment again.

So here you were, two years later, about to marry another man. You looked at yourself in the mirror, saw the fresh tears pooling, threatening to spill and ruin your expensive makeup. If anyone were to see you, they would probably assume they were happy tears, brought on by the overwhelming joy of linking yourself to Chris forever. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Your tears stemmed from the knowledge that going through with this truly meant the end of a future with Rafe. It was stupid, Rafe hadn’t contacted you in the years since your break up, and the only information you received on his wellbeing you got through his sister Sarah who you still thought of as a friend. Rafe didn’t know that you kept tabs on him, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Sarah told him about you, too. You briefly wondered what it would have felt like to receive the news of your engagement, if he ever saw the invitation hung on Sarah’s fridge. If he was sad, or jealous, or if he even cared.

For a moment, you thought about running, pulling a runaway bride, but Chris didn’t deserve that. His only flaw was that he wasn’t Rafe Cameron, and it wasn’t fair to resent him for that fact. Besides, your mother would throw a fit. She had been mad enough when you had arrived home, 21 and single and in need of a place to stay as you got back on your feet. You were pretty sure she might actually disown you if you left another ‘eligible bachelor’, especially this close to commitment. You would likely never hear the end of how you had ruined a perfectly good (and extravagantly expensive) wedding. Not only that, there was no guarantee the next guy you found would hold a candle to Rafe, and you were certain by his two year long radio silence, that Rafe was over you. So, you got up, smoothed down the crinkle in your off-white wedding dress, dabbed at your eyes with a tissue and grabbed your bouquet, resigned to going through with the wedding.

The truth is, when Rafe walked into Sarah’s apartment to pick her up for a lunch with Ward and Rose, she all but threw herself at Rafe to prevent him from seeing the invitation on the fridge. Her plan had been to meet him in the car, but Rafe had walked right in using his key. Suspicious of his little sister’s actions, he gently moved her aside and entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He paused, hand hovering near the water dispenser on the fridge as his eyes landed on the photo of you and Chris with “save the date” written in bold block letters. In his shock, the glass slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor. The sound shook him from his thoughts, and he grimaced at the broken pieces of glass that lay at his feet alongside his shattered heart. He looked at Sarah with a look of pure devastation as she offered him a soft smile and quickly swept up the glass. Unfortunately, the pieces of his heart couldn’t be cleaned up so easily. “I’m sorry,” she had offered quietly and all he could do was shrug and say, “me too.”

The green eyed monster of jealousy lingered on his shoulder in the weeks that follow, causing him to lash out more and more. His coworkers avoided him, his friends wanted nothing to do with him, and the only people who he could stand to be around were his little sisters of all people. Despite Sarah keeping your engagement a secret, she had tried to save him from heartbreak, but it was always going to hurt no matter when or where he found out. Since finding out, thoughts of you consumed him, they always had. He had given you the space you had so desperately asked for that night you left, always thinking that you would come back to him, that the two of you would work it out and move on together. He never stopped thinking about you and wondering where you were and what you were doing. He’d heard you’d gone through a few relationships, and he wouldn’t lie about the way his heart would leap a little every time your relationships failed.

Now, it was serious. You’d found someone you’d deemed worthy enough to spend your life with. Rafe always thought that person was him, but he didn’t blame you for not thinking that, too. He had his issues, he was quick to anger, projected his insecurities on others, he’d struggled with addiction and alcoholism although he’d been clean for almost three years at the point. Rafe couldn’t help but admit he was jealous. Jealous of the nights he didn’t get to spend with you, jealous of the love you were giving some other guy that you had once reserved for him, jealous of the life you were going to spend with someone else. Above all else, he was jealous that you were happy without him. He thought you hung the moon, and he was once happy to live among the stars. He would still rearrange the entire night sky for you, but now you saw stars in another’s eyes.

As your wedding date approached, he only felt worse. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have been the one in the wedding invite picture, to have his name written in an elegant script alongside yours on a piece of thick cardstock paper inviting your family and friends to celebrate your love. The daydream overtook his brain. Thoughts of wedding cake tastings and searching for a venue and fighting over seating charts invaded his every waking hour. And at night, he dreamt of being the one at the end of the aisle as you slowly walked towards him, a vision in white with your hair framing your face like the prettiest painting he had ever seen. Saw you approach him, place your hand in his and vow to be his forever. Felt your lips on his as you kissed for the first time as man and wife, dipping you unexpectedly and feeling your delicate fingertips wrap around his lapels to keep you steady. Dreamt of the first dance, twirling you around in his arms, and speeches and kissing every time cutlery tapped a wine glass. Dreamt of a hotel suite with rose petals on the floor, of slowly unzipping your dress and kissing every inch revealed, of a lacy white lingerie set and making love to you as your husband for the first time. But every morning he awoke in a too-large and too-empty king size bed with nothing but the faint memory of a dream.

On the morning of your wedding he awoke from such a dream, and realized he was going to wake up like that every morning for the rest of his life - sad, alone and wanting you. It was then he understood that he had to do something, had to tell you how he felt. He knew it was selfish and impetuous and rash, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try. He couldn’t let you marry some hedge fund manager from Raleigh who dressed like a douche in your engagement photo shoot. And so Rafe pulled himself out of his depression and his silk sheets, dressing himself in a suit and tie to hopefully blend in the back church pew. He didn’t tell Sarah, didn’t tell anyone about his plans lest they convince him not to try.

“Bride,” he told the usher when asked who’s side he was with, before slipping into the last pew on the left. His eyes glanced around the church and he shook his head, even the venue was wrong. You had always told Rafe that you wanted to be married on the beach, barefoot in the sand of the OBX, a soft breeze against your skin. He would always tease you about the breeze, lying in bed together with your hands intertwined dreaming about the future. But, in your dreams, you had always giggled, you could control the weather and you wanted a slight breeze like a scene from a movie. He pulled at his tie a little, the atmosphere stuffy and stifling, and he thought that, if you would have him, he would give you your dream beach wedding, even if he had to buy a large fan to give you your slight breeze.

You stood at the back of the church, nervously picking at the bouquet in your hands as your bridesmaids made their way down the aisle. Your arms were shaking with anxiety, but to the casual outside observer you likely seemed to be jittery with excitement. “You ready, sweetheart?” your father asked, offering you his bent elbow. Swallowing hard, you placed your hand in the crook of his arm and entered the chapel. Chris stood at the end of the aisle, a vision in a dark grey tux with a light pink tie to match the color of your bridesmaids’ dresses. You felt tears prick at your eyes as you felt nothing for the man standing there waiting for you. His eyes filled with matching tears and you felt nothing. Scanning the pews for reassurance from your family and friends, you spotted him. There, in the back pew on the left side, your side, sat Rafe Cameron.

You froze, eyes wide as you laid eyes on Rafe Cameron for the first time since you walked out of his apartment two years ago. Of course, you had unhealthily stalked his social media for months after the break up, and every now and then when you felt like torturing yourself, but this was the first time you saw him in person, close enough to run to, close enough to touch. Tearing your eyes from his, you scanned the church again, gulping as you met the furious stare of your mother in the first row, cringing at the almost devastated look on Chris’s face. Lastly, you looked up at your father who gave you a knowing stare, before inclining his head slightly at you. It was that small confirmation that sold it for you. You handed the bouquet to your father, quietly said, “I’m sorry,” before you turned and ran out of the church.

It was difficult to run in your expensive red bottom shoes, but you made an admirable effort for the first few feet before stopping long enough to slip them off. You held both shoes by the heel in one hand, the other hand grasping the bottom of your dress to keep it from dragging on the ground slowing you down. There’s a small park across the street from the church, and it’s here that you realize you’re being followed. Your chest restricts as you recognize the voice calling your name doesn’t belong to your mother or Chris or your bridesmaids. Stopping and turning around, you spot Rafe hot on your heels. You can’t do anything but stand there and stare at him as comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath despite his trim figure. You take him in, eyes roaming every inch of his tall frame. You’re a little dizzy, unsure if it’s the rush of your fight or flight instinct, or the rush you’ve always felt in Rafe’s presence.

“I’m sorry,” is the first phrase that leave his lips and you look at him in confusion. He loves the way your nose scrunches up, and the little crinkle that appears between your eyebrows, has dreamed of seeing it again.

“For what?” you asked, unsure of what he was apologizing for. You weren’t upset that you’d ran off, you knew that you didn’t really want to marry Chris, that you had only said yes because of the pressure from your mom and the knowledge that Rafe hadn’t spoken to you in two years.

“Everything,” he admits, flexing his hands nervously. “God, y/n, I fucked up so bad.” Your eyes are staring at his fidgeting hands, and in a split second you’ve dropped your shoes onto the grass and grasped his hands in yours, linking your fingers.

He looks between your now linked hands and your face, and you take the opportunity to take a step closer to him. “I’m sorry too,” you speak softly, “I shouldn’t have ran like that. I should have stayed, and I should have fought for you.”

“You’re not-“ he swallows, “you’re not mad I ruined your wedding?” Despite your hands in his, despite the look in your eye as you stare up at him, despite the fact that you haven’t run from him, he has to ask. Has to make sure that you’re still as in love with him as he is you. That you’ve spent the past two years thinking about where you both went wrong and how you could fix it. That you had thought and dreamt of this moment, where you were close enough to press your lips together.

“I think we both know that wasn’t my wedding, not really. Wrong color scheme, wrong venue...” you pause thoughtfully, squeezing his hands as a smile makes its way onto your face. He catches on quickly, his lips upturning with a small smirk as he finishes your thought, “Wrong groom?”

You giggle, dropping his hands in favour of gripping his face with your palms, smiling widely up at him. There’s something about the intimacy of the moment, of feeling his skin beneath your fingertips, that has you emotional. Rafe feels it too, staring into your eyes, in full disbelief that this is how today has gone. He had hoped, of course. He wouldn’t have shown up at the church if he thought there was no chance of stopping your wedding. But to have you here... Your thumb strokes his cheek as his eyes fill with tears. “Yeah, baby, wrong groom.”

At your confirmation, he ducks his head down and presses his lips to yours. Your hands slide from his cheeks to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other wrapping around the back of your neck holding you in place as the kiss deepens. You have to pull back to breathe, but he doesn’t let you go far, holding you in place as you rest your foreheads together.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers against your lips and you grin before pecking his lips once. “I’m still in love with you, too,” you whisper back. Suddenly, you’re kissing again, two years of absence melting away with each brush of your lips.

You pull away for a second time, smiling as his lips attempt to chase yours. “We’re going to have to work at this you know, our issues didn’t just go away,” you tell him seriously.

He nods, grabbing one of your hands to kiss the inside of your palm, “I know baby, but I’m ready to work on it, on us, this time.”

You grin widely at him once more, before grabbing your shoes and linking your hands together, “then let’s get me out of this stupid dress.”

everything taglist: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @rekrappeter @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybankfullkook @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @bluesiderudy @anxietyandtacos @diverrdown @stargazingstarkey

#anyway #i'm getting soft in my old age #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #diverdcwn writes

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c-optimistic · 4 years

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forgive

or, it takes sixteen weeks and one day for lena to forgive kara

She’d once had a nightmare about Lena discovering her secret in the worst possible way. It consisted of Kara being outed in the middle of a superhero-villain showdown, with her on her knees and with Lena’s wide-eyed look of betrayal burned into the back of her eyelids.

When she was feeling particularly masochistic, she’d continue the nightmare, trying to twist it and force it to conform to a reality she wanted. Lena would look betrayed, yes, but with Kara’s life on the line, a lie would seem trivial in comparison. (Never mind the fact that it was a series of lies, over the course of years, all despite the fact that Lena had trusted her with everything when Kara couldn’t do the same.)

They’d win in this scenario of Kara’s making, managing to twist the ending such that Lena would choose to vent her emotions by pulling Kara into an angry but relieved kiss and after a few days of space, Kara would reintroduce herself as Kara Danvers/Supergirl with an apology on her lips, and the promise of more shining in Lena’s eyes.

The reality she got, unfortunately, was much worse than her worst nightmares. It was cold eyes and an emotionless, vacant stare after the reveal. It was radio silence, it was a bitterly cold shoulder the one time Kara attempted to make contact, it was learning through Alex that Lena and James had decided to give it another go (and learning through Nia that it had fallen apart), it was blocked phone numbers and the loss of one of the most important people in her life.

Gone, as if she’d never been there—a clean, surgical cut.

And Kara....well, she sort of fell apart.

Week One

She’d never been addicted to anything, but she rather thought that this must have been what withdrawal felt like.

(Shockingly, she’d never quite realized just how integrated her life had become with Lena’s: it wasn’t just lunches and game nights and coffee dates, it was more. It was phone calls after a long day, texting throughout working hours—even if Lena’s responses sometimes came slowly, timed between meetings—and even spontaneous meet ups for Kara’s newest food craving or satisfying Lena’s need for a good work out.

She didn’t realize just how much she and Lena were intertwined until it all came to an end.)

The first day without Lena was agonizing. She kept turning to her phone, willing it to ring, willing it to vibrate with a notification, wondering where on Earth she’d ever gotten the idea that she’d be okay in a world where Lena Luthor hated her.

The second and third day, she spent an inordinate amount of time as Supergirl, purposefully flying past Lena’s building if only to get a hit, needing to hear Lena’s voice.

On the fifth day without Lena, Kara called in sick and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as she wished for her best friend back.

And at the close of her first week without Lena in her life, Kara found herself in her sister’s arms, sobbing as she realized she really had no one to blame but herself.

Week Five

It wasn’t easier, it could never be that, but it was different.

(Sometimes, when she was least expecting it, she thought her chest rattled with a heaving breath, a repressed sob attempting to shake loose her lungs.

More often than not, however, all she felt was a dull ache, a hole—an emptiness—where her heart was supposed to be.)

She didn’t fly by L-Corp anymore. In fact, she was proud to say she was actually clean, not having watched Lena’s interviews online in order to take in her voice, not having asked Alex how her research project with Lena was going, and even smiling at James (mending her friendship with him, unable to keep pushing him away when he’d done nothing but care about Lena).

Lena’s absence was everywhere. Kara felt it literally all the time. But where it once paralyzed her, made her unable to keep her head on straight, it was now just something that dogged her every step, heavy and cumbersome.

(She wondered, idly, if this was what it meant to get over someone.)

Week Seven

The first time she spoke to Lena since revealing her identity should’ve been a bigger moment than it actually ended up being. She rather thought it should’ve been accompanied with fireworks and other fanfare, but instead it was a quiet moment at the DEO, when the latest threat on Lena’s life had left her no other choice but to call for Supergirl’s help.

“—and you can keep an eye out for anything suspicious from the sky, Supergirl,” Alex was saying, relaying her orders to the DEO agents before turning to Kara. “Provide backup.”

Lena snorted indelicately from where she stood, a large tablet in her hands, her eyes fixated on something on the screen with a focus Kara was sure was being faked. She must have noticed that everyone’s eyes were on her because she cleared her throat as she looked up, shrugging remorselessly. “What? No need to keep up the charade anymore, is there? We all know who’s under that cape, you can use her name.”

“Supergirl’s identity is secret, Lena,” Alex said, her tone harsher than anything Kara could remember her using with Lena before. They had remained friends, despite Kara’s estrangement with Lena (though Alex had assured Kara dozens of times that she would cut off ties as well if it would help—seeming to understand far too well when Kara had insisted Alex maintain her relationship with the Luthor).

“Alex, it’s fine,” Kara tried, placing her hand on Alex’s shoulder in an attempt to placate her. “I’ll just go. My comms are on if you need me.” She forced a smile, only briefly glancing at Lena before striding off.

She wondered if she was only imagining Lena’s gaze burning into her back, and she realized as she struggled with the weight on her back, that she most certainly wasn’t over Lena.

The wound she received from Lena’s would-be assassin wasn’t, by any measure, a bad one. In fact, Kara was rather sure it was similar to the papercut she’d gotten after she’d blown out her powers. She didn’t even need to spend any time under the sun lamps at the DEO, choosing instead to stand on the balcony to absorb the last of the sun’s rays as night began to slowly fall.

Thus, she was understandably surprised when she heard someone in heels walk up next to her, leaning against the railing, and even more surprised to realize that that someone was Lena.

“I heard you were hurt,” Lena said curtly, causing Kara to look at her in shock. Not that Lena noticed—her eyes were focused firmly on the setting sun. “Had to make sure that I can’t be blamed for anything that happened to Supergirl,” Lena continued coldly, “so I thought I’d check in.”

“I’m fine,” Kara said softly, unsure if her voice truly sounded so defeated or if that’s what she heard because that’s what she was feeling. Odd, really, after so much that it would be losing Lena that would break Kara down and surrender.

(Then again, perhaps it wasn’t so odd. Perhaps it should’ve been obvious. While Kara wasn’t sure she’d go as far as say that she was in love with Lena—loves her, sure, but in love was another matter entirely—she was in touch with her emotions enough to know that Lena’s presence and friendship was...priceless. It was everything. Even without all the romantic feelings tossed into the mix.

And to lose it? To watch Lena’s eyes grow hard and turn her back on Kara, on everything that was between them, all that history and affection, and yes, love? Well, it was heartbreaking.

All the more heartbreaking because Kara could’ve prevented it all. If only….)

“You’re bleeding,” Lena said dispassionately, gesturing to the small cut above Kara’s left eyebrow. It wasn’t even bleeding, and Kara was rather sure it would disappear in the next few minutes—with or without sun. Yet, with Lena’s eyes on it, Kara couldn’t help but reach up and press her fingers against the small wound, wondering if she was crazy and just imagining the look of concern in Lena’s eyes at the motion.

“I’m honestly fine,” Kara said quietly, dropping her hand and gaze, unable to meet Lena’s eyes anymore. Perhaps that was a good thing, because Lena’s next words nearly brought her to tears.

“Thank you, for saving my life today. I didn’t think you would—I didn’t know if….” She trailed off with a huff, as if unable to finish the sentence, but Kara heard her anyway. She wasn’t sure if Kara would want to help her, protect her, be on her side. And that, more than the disappearance of texts, more than the cold shoulder, more than the hard gaze, it was that that truly broke Kara’s heart.

How could she have strayed, done so much wrong, that it was enough to make Lena think that?

“I know my word doesn’t mean much to you anymore—for good reason,” she added when she could feel Lena take issue with her sentence, “but I promise you, I’m on your side. I’m here for you. Always.” Lena didn’t respond, merely cleared her throat and turned away, clearly about to head back inside. Kara’s eyes followed her and before she was even fully aware of what she was doing, she was speaking again, desperate to say something, desperate to explain somehow, someway. “Lena, wait.” To Kara’s ultimate surprise, Lena actually did pause, even turned back to face her, meeting her gaze evenly, as if merely looking at a stranger. “I...” Kara began, floundering now that she had Lena’s attention (after wishing for it for so long). “I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. You’re my best friend, I love you.”

For a long moment, Lena was silent. Then, so quickly even Kara with her speed and super senses was unsure she saw it, pain flashed in Lena’s eyes. (Pain that she, Kara, caused. That she brought about.)

“That’s funny,” Lena finally said, her voice soft and tinged with so much that went unsaid. Things like, why; things like, how could you? “The only reason it hurt was because I loved you.” She waited just long enough for the words (and oh, the tense) to register, eyes raking over Kara’s face before she turned on her heel and walked away.

And she left Kara feeling as though Kryptonite was hanging on her neck: physically sick and ready to fall to her knees from the pain.

Week Twelve

“I told you she would hate you,” were the first words out of Lillian Luthor’s mouth when Kara visited her in prison, the guard grunting and eying Kara suspiciously before he slid out of the room. “You should have told her sooner.”

“Mrs. Luthor,” Kara tried, swallowing hard, “my name is Kara Danvers, I’m a reporter with CatCo Magazine. We’re publishing an issue about the lasting effects of the recent events involving Lex Luthor’s attempt to take over the world. Again. I was hoping you could answer a few questions about your son for the piece.”

(She had begged James to send someone else. Anyone else. But he’d been adamant: Lillian refused to speak to anyone but Kara and the magazine was desperate for her to go on the record for the first time.)

“I told Lena not to trust you. You’re all the same in the end, you...reporters.” Lillian stressed the word just enough to send a shiver of panic down Kara’s spine, making her itch to somehow find a way to contact Clark and make sure he was okay even off planet and far away from the Luthors.

“Mrs. Luthor—“

“—Dr. Luthor is fine—“

“—Lillian, then,” Kara said, setting her shoulders and raising her eyebrows. For her part, Lillian just seemed amused, leaning back in her chair and smiling, motioning for Kara to speak. “Like I said, I only had a few questions.”

“I’ll answer whatever you like, but only if you answer one question of mine.” Lillian grinned when Kara just nodded stiffly, clutching her notebook a little tighter. “You love like a Luthor, Kara Danvers. Lies, secrets, double-crossing...it’s how we show affection. I did wonder why Lena seemed to warm to you so quickly, you must have reminded her of home.”

“That’s not a question.”

Lillian laughed, every bit as regal and dangerous in the navy inmate outfit as when she was on the outside in thousand dollar dresses and heels. “Well, why waste a question when the answer is already written all over your face?”

Week Fifteen

As it likely was always destined to be, it was Alex who finally sat Kara down and gave her a much needed talk.

“Do you remember when you were fifteen and you broke the snowglobe dad gave me?” Alex asked, handing Kara the potstickers without bothering to ask if she could have one (most likely because she already knew it was a lost cause).

“Vaguely,” Kara mumbled between a mouthful of food.

(That was a lie, of course. The truth was that the memory of breaking that snowglobe was etched deep into her mind, always a point of confusion and pain and guilt.

She’d crushed the snowglobe in a fit of rage, upset over a myriad of things: the loss of her planet, Alex’s obstinance, losing her foster father, the pain of Clark’s emotional and physical distance. And Alex had been so...broken. She hadn’t cried, but had instead taken one look at the crushed globe then one at Kara before just walking away, leaving Kara to drown in silence.

It took nearly a week before Kara managed to get Alex to speak to her again, a week of silence that felt just as damaging as all that time in the Phantom Zone.)

“Do you remember what you did to get me to forgive you?” Alex asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m not sure breaking the snowglobe is the same as lying about who I am for years, Alex,” Kara said with a groan, looking at her potstickers dejectedly as she lost her appetite.

“But do you remember what you did?”

“I’m pretty sure I annoyed you until you gave in,” Kara said with a roll of her eyes.

Alex chuckled as she sat down next to her, allowing Kara to lean against her, offering a loose, one-armed hug. “You apologized. In about a million different ways,” Alex whispered against her temple. “I know you want to allow Lena her space, let her dictate the boundaries, and that’s a good thing. But Kara, you didn’t even try to apologize, to show her you’re sorry. You didn’t fight for her at all. Why?”

(Why?

Because Kara wondered at night if Lillian Luthor was right, she wondered about herself and how she’d allowed it to go so wrong. She thought about the pain she caused Lena, the trust she shattered, and the feeling of breaking her own heart through her own actions.

Why?

Well, because Kara didn’t deserve another chance with Lena.)

Maybe she spoke aloud, maybe Alex could read her mind, or most likely, maybe her sister knew her so well that she could see the answer in Kara’s eyes, hear it in Kara’s silence. Because after a moment, she pressed a kiss to Kara’s forehead.

“Maybe,” she said softly as she pulled away, motioning towards the freezer where Kara had stocked up on ice cream to get through the heartache, “it’s okay to ask for another chance and let Lena decide whether or not you’re worth it. And if you ask me, Kara, you’re always worth it.”

Week Sixteen

Four months after her nightmare scenario was realized (and ended up much worse than Kara could’ve even begun to imagine), Kara gathered the courage to seek Lena out.

She landed on the balcony outside Lena’s office, not as Supergirl, but as Kara Danvers (it was risky, it was stupid, but she thought it was worth it). It took three taps on the glass before Lena noticed her, looking up from her work, brows furrowed. For a long second, Kara didn’t think she would let her in.

But then, miraculously, Lena stood and pushed the glass door open, letting Kara step into her office.

“It’s still not an entrance,” Lena muttered, crossing her arms over her chest defensively as she took Kara in. “What are you doing here? Need my help with DEO business? A quote for Cat Grant? I hope you appreciate how busy I am, so—”

“—to be perfectly honest, I didn’t tell you at first because of your last name,” Kara interrupted, much to Lena’s shock, her arms falling to her sides as she studied Kara with narrowed eyes. “I knew you were different from the second we first met, that you were good and kind and had the biggest heart.” She swallowed, took in a deep breath, and forced herself to look into Lena’s eyes. Needing her to see the truth of what she was saying. “I trusted you from the second we met, Lena Luthor, but between Clark and Lex and your mom and the Alien Amnesty Act and just...it seemed safer for you and me to not say anything.”

“Kara, I—”

“—and then, when it would have made everything easier to just tell you the truth, I...I ruined things. I got scared, I lashed out, and suddenly, you couldn’t stand Supergirl. And with Reign, I figured it was safer for you and me to just...not say anything.” Kara took a step forward, disheartened when Lena took a step back. “And this past year, with the backlash against aliens and the Children of Liberty, I convinced myself it was safer to just not say anything. But the truth is...well, the truth is, I’ve been lying to myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Lena said, shaking her head.

“I haven’t had a good reason to keep who I was from you since Medusa,” Kara admitted quietly. “Probably even before that. I just didn’t want to see you look at me like you’re looking at me now.”

(It was a cold stare. Hard. Unforgiving.

And it broke Kara’s heart.

Again, and again, and again.)

“It was selfish, I knew it was selfish. I even tried to tell you once, but I...I didn’t want to hurt you—I didn’t want you to hate me.” She blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears she knew were coming. “I’m sorry, Lena. And I will show you how sorry I am every single day for the rest of my life if I have to, I will earn your trust back. But please, please, don’t shut me out. Don’t hate me.”

Lena’s jaw clenched.

One second.

Two.

She took a deep breath.

(Five seconds passed, Kara counted.)

“I really think you should leave, Kara,” Lena said, her gaze boring into Kara’s.

(It was a confused stare. Perplexed.

Soft.)

Week Sixteen and One Day

Kara opened the door before the knock even came, revealing Lena with her hand still raised, a flicker of amusement on her lips.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked, a clear and obvious test.

“Super-hearing,” Kara shrugged easily, “and I have x-ray vision, you know.”

“Interesting,” Lena said, smiling at Kara for the first time in what felt like centuries. “I thought a lot about what you said yesterday. Maybe let’s start with coffee, a conversation about Krypton, and go from there. What do you say?”

Kara didn’t need five seconds—she didn’t even need one.

“Perfect. Lead the way.”

#supercorp #fanfic #old #kara danvers #lena luthor

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jemej3m · 5 years

Text

objection

because im now a law/crim student, this is all im gonna fuckin write about

anyway here’s andrew as neil’s defence attorney (totally inspired by @aymmidumps‘ amazing andrew here)

gruesome crime descriptions but neil’s not a butcher in this one

“Wesninki’s applying for an appeal,” was all Andrew heard from the minute he’d stepped into the office. It was all anyone could - and would - talk about.

Reasonably so, Andrew presumed. Nathaniel Wesninski had been locked up since his nineteenth birthday, when he slit his father’s throat. Andrew reckons he should’ve never been charged with murder, especially when considering his father was the Butcher of Baltimore, but Andrew had been just an undergraduate student at the time. There was nothing he could’ve done.

Now, though.

Now Andrew was just over thirty and steadily climbing the ranks. He hadn’t intended on becoming a defense attorney, but it just so happened that he was damn good at keep kids out of jail. The juvenile detention system was just a cog in the wheel of dysfunction, after all: he knew that first hand.

Survivors of violent assault who had killed their attackers were also common clients of Andrew’s. Those with mental illnesses and drug addictions found their way into his stack of case files, too. He’d always thought he’d be on the right side of the law, throwing shitty people in jail and fixing the system one day at a time.

This was alright too, he supposed.

“Hey, Minyard,” Boyd leaned against the door-frame of Andrew’s office. He had his own private space, unlike the others, who often shared offices with two or three of their colleagues. Andrew was just lucky. Or favoured.

“Let me guess,” Andrew said, without looking up from his file on a thirteen-year-old being charged with battery and theft. “Dan’s pissy because I didn’t turn up to dinner on Friday, there’s free coffee in the break room, Wesninski’s applying for appeal and Wymack wants me?”

“Uh,” Matt squinted. “Yes? How the hell did you guess?”

Andrew gave Matt a bored look. “You talk too loud. The walls are thin, you know.”

The man huffed, conflicted between being impressed and disgruntled at Andrew’s usual bitchiness. He simply threw his hands up and vanished from Andrew’s doorway, most likely to groan to his wife about how incorrigible Andrew seemed to be.

He threw his file onto his desk, locked his office door behind him and swung past the break room to dump three packets of sugar into a free latte. By the time he arrived at Wymack’s door, the man was already stood up, most definitely unimpressed by Andrew’s tardiness. And his lack of tie.

He did wear a tie to court. Most of the time.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” the old man grunted, tugging on the cuffs of his casual blazer. Andrew fucking hated blazers. They were always too tight around his shoulders. “I suppose you already know what this is all about?”

“Seeing as Allison, Robin and Renee have all tried to talk my ear off about it, yes. I’m aware Wesninski is trying for appeal.”

Wymack wasn’t impressed. “What you don’t know is that he’s come to us to represent him.”

Andrew paused. Now that was interesting. Nathaniel Wesninski was halfway between New York and Baltimore. Why the fuck would he recruit from seedy South Carolina? There was no viable reason, unless -

“Kevin,” he deduced. “How do they know each other?”

“Moriyamas and Wesninskis ran in the same circles, before it all got shut down.” Wymack arched a brow. “Wesninski figures that Kevin is the only person he can trust.”

“Kevin won’t do it,” Andrew shook his head. “He doesn’t touch anything Moriyama related with a ten-foot pole.”

“Wesninski knows that. Which is why he’s asked for you: Kevin passed him on.”

Andrew closed his eyes, very, very briefly, as he cocked his head at his boss. “You want me to get the most notorious gangster’s son out of jail.”

“At least have him commuted to manslaughter,” Wymack suggested.

At least, Andrew thought. He remembered looking over the Wesninski case in his third year. Nathaniel Wesninski had laughed, incredulous, as the FBI lead him away in handcuffs, nearly losing his fingers in an effort to cling onto the knife that he’d used to end Nathan Wesninski’s life.

That wasn’t manslaughter. That was homicide of the first degree, plastered over the front page of every newspaper the next day.

"You’ll owe me,” Andrew warned.

“I’ll cover your bar tab at the Foxhole for the rest of the year,” Wymack conceded.

Andrew huffed. “It’s February.”

Wymack arched an eyebrow.

Andrew had a feeling he’d regret this. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels, looking to the ceiling. “Fine.”

“It was an order, not a request,” Wymack grunted. “Get out of my office and get a visitation permit.”

Andrew, already fed up with a case he’d only just been assigned, turned on his heel and dutifully marched off.

The drive was nine and a half hours. Andrew could’ve made it a single-day round trip on a plane, but he refused to fly somewhere he could drive instead. He booked a half-hour slot with Wesninski on Saturday afternoon: if he found the man interesting enough, he��d bribe a guard to let him back in Sunday morning. Then he’d drive home, midday Sunday.

At least Wymack was letting him stay in a nice hotel in Philadelphia. It almost made the journey worth it, but he wouldn’t jump the gun. It would only be a worthwhile trip if he figured that Wesninski wasn’t hopeless. The man was just 29. It was nearly 10 years since he’d been locked up. Andrew’s chances were - practically slim to none.

Half-way through the drive Nicky called.

“Heard you’re going to see Wesninski,” he said, the phone somewhat masking Nicky’s obvious curiosity.

Andrew sighed. “Aaron needs to shut his mouth.”

“Aaron comes to family dinners,” Nicky objected. “He has every right to tell me whatever he wants. Speaking of - if I promise you a whole loaf of garlic bread, will you come to the next one?”

Andrew huffed. “I’m busy.”

“Yeah, yeah, you hate socialising, you’ll tolerate dealing with Aaron at work but nowhere else, blah blah. What about me? Your dear, old cousin?”

“Fine,” Andrew grunted. “Now, leave me alone.”

“Yes!” Nicky crowed, but whatever response he had after that was cut off. Andrew dropped his phone back in the passenger seat, turning the radio back up and relaxing into his chair.

It was a further five hours after that disturbance till his arrival at SCI Phoenix, Philadelphia. Andrew would always despise how depressing prison complexes looked. Chain link fences and brick boxes, splayed out like a progression of architectural failures. The parking lot was enormous and empty. Andrew parked far enough away that his nice car wasn’t in direct sight from the prison’s visiting entrance, fixing up his suit and tie and slinging the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder.

The guard by the door snapped his fingers for identification. Andrew flicked his license towards him, gaze deadened by boredom. The guard almost winced when Andrew sighed, looking to the clock. Once he was finally granted access, he took the lanyard and shoved his way through the doors.

Visitation was close to shutting up when Andrew arrived, miserable loved ones reaching for final hugs and brief kisses. Andrew was lead by the duty guard to a private room, waiting by the barred door.

Wesninski was already waiting for him inside. His hands were cuffed to the table, fiddling with a blunt key. His red curls were overgrown and messy, the grey jumpsuit hanging off his small frame.

When the door clanged shut, Wesninski looked up. His eyes were the most spectacular blue Andrew had ever seen, his face marred by horrific scars and the stitches used to hold him together. He looked ridiculously unimpressed. Andrew, meanwhile, smothered any flickers of emotion as intrigue sparked in his chest.

Damn, he thought.

“Unlock him,” Andrew said, to the guard.

The guard arched an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Obviously,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t have knives on his person - they’d set off the metal detector - but he was never vulnerable. He made a promise that he’d never be taken advantage of again.

Wesninski flexed his wrists when the guard unlocked them, giving Andrew a thinly veiled look of appraisal. The guard immediately skittered off to stand outside the door, holding the interrogation room’s keys in tightly clenched fists.

“So,” Wesninski said, holding out a hand. “You’re the famous Andrew Minyard.”

"And you are the infamous Nathaniel Wesninski,” Andrew returned, ignoring the warmth of his skin as they shook hands. He sat down: the shitty metal chair creaked. “We both seem to have names and reputations that precede us.”

Nathaniel’s eye twitched slightly. “I prefer Neil.”

Andrew leant back in his chair, leg crossed at the ankle. “You seriously think they’re going to let you out?”

“Well,” Neil admitted. “Probably not. But I figured I’d give it a shot. It should be safer out there now.”

“You’ve been hiding in here? Who from, your father’s ghost?”

Neil was not impressed. “His bosses, actually. But since Kengo’s second son was shot between the eyes and his first son locked up for it, I should be fine.”

“Riko and Ichirou,” Andrew deduced. “Kevin’s mentioned them once or twice.”

Neil just glared. “I can’t believe that coward won’t help me.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “He owes you, does he? What for? Helping him escape the Moriyamas? Wait - that was me. What about coping with his trauma and reestablishing his career? Nevermind - that was me, too. Goodness, you haven’t been around much, have you? Right, right,” Andrew leaned over the table, resting his chin on his laced fingers. “You’ve been in jail for ten years.”

“You are not funny,” Neil snapped, gripping onto his blunt key.

“I don’t know if it’s worth my time, Mr Wesninski,” Neil flinched again. “Convince me.”

“Other than it’s what is just?” Andrew arched an eyebrow. Neil huffed. “Fine. I’ll pay you. Double your normal fee.”

“Prison pays well, does it?”

“Blood money,” Neil had the audacity to wink. Dammit, Andrew thought again. “I already know you’re quite happy to spend dirty cash, Minyard. A G6, right? Bit of an upgrade from your mother’s car.”

He should not know that. “You’re not exactly winning me over, here.”

Neil leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the stupid little key. He must have spent the last decade tracing it down to its current blunt status. Andrew wondered what it used to unlock.

Okay - he was intrigued by Neil. And yes, his narrative fit Andrew’s bill. And some spare cash wouldn’t hurt: he could sent Nicky and Erik over to Christmas for the summer.

“What’s something you’ve never given anyone?” Andrew inquired.

Neil looked up from under his ruby-tinted lashes. “What?”

“I want something that no one else has.” Andrew leaned further forward, leaning in close. “What do you have to offer me, Wesninski?”

For a moment, Neil simply stared. His fingers stilled. He definitely had a few tattoos and scars, from what Andrew could glean at the little slice of a sharp collarbone, exposed by the jumpsuit.

It was silent - almost electric. Andrew watched as something behind Neil’s eyes crumbled, the exhaustion settling in, the loneliness of a man who had known nothing but pain and suffering and isolation.

“Everyone knows Nathaniel Wesninski,” Neil said. “No one knows Neil.”

Andrew felt the remnants of a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll tell you the truth,” Neil offered, glaring at the table like it offended him. “I’ve never told the truth before.”

Andrew stood up, offering his hand. Neil followed suit, grip hesitant where he clasped Andrew’s hand.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Andrew said.

“You’ll try,” Neil corrected him.

“Here’s something you should know about me, Neil,” Andrew tugged on his suit jacket, fixing his cuffs. “I never fail a promise.”

Andrew felt Neil’s gaze, watching him as he left. As Andrew filtered past the guard, he snuck a two hundred into the guard’s pocket.

“Nine o’clock, tomorrow morning,” he said. “Bring him here.”

The guard, moon-eyed, just nodded.

Andrew glanced over his shoulder for one last assessment of his newest client. Neil was leant against the table they had spoken at, arms crossed as he glared in Andrew’s direction. His hair flopped forward, masking one eye. Like this, with his tattooed forearms and shoulders and hell-fire hair, he looked dangerous.

In his right hand, he played with his key.

Andrew spun on his heel and left. He knew he’d made the right decision.

Neil Wesninski would get out of jail, if it was the last thing Andrew did.

#andreil #andrew minyard #lawyer!andrew #felon!neil #neil josten #all for the game #defence attorneys don't always suck!#aftg #tfc #the foxes #law firm!foxes #david wymack #kevin day #tw: a lil bit of mentioned murder #the tension between them is just #mwah #i love my boys #jem writes

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starlightbuck · 4 years

Text

i wanna be known (by you)

part 2/2 || word count: 5.9k || read on AO3

When he leaves, Eddie checks his phone. Even after all that time he spent obsessing over what to wear, he still managed to arrive at the restaurant early. He left his name and Buck’s at the front so that whenever Buck arrives, he would be led right to their table. It was a conscious decision on Eddie’s part to sit so that he’s facing the front door, that way he can see the moment Buck steps foot inside.

In the meantime, Eddie focuses on keeping his heart from beating right out of his chest. This is the first date that he’s been on in years and it’s safe to say that his nerves are getting the best of him. It’s just that, he likes Buck. Really likes him, which feels almost stupid to say considering the fact that they’ve never officially met.

It is what it is though, a side-effect of living in a world where online dating has become a norm.

Eddie adjusts the sleeve of his light blue button-up for the third time in less than five minutes. Maybe he should’ve gone with the green long-sleeve instead. It was Abuela that convinced him that he looked more handsome in light blue. Then again, she might’ve just said that to get Eddie to stop fussing over his outfit and actually leave the house on time.

“Good evening, sir. Can I take your order?”

“I’m actually going to wait for my date to arrive before ordering anything.”

The older gentleman nods in understanding. “Of course.”

It is what it is though, a side-effect of living in a world where online dating has become a norm.

When Eddie checks his phone again, he sees that it’s a couple of minutes past the time that him and Buck agreed to meet at the restaurant. Eddie goes into their text conversation to make sure he sent the right address. When he sees that he has, he locks his phone and waits. The restaurant is located in downtown LA and traffic is bound to be a nightmare, especially on a Friday night.

Twenty minutes later, the waiter comes back to the table to ask if Eddie wants to place his drink order. He asks for water.

Five minutes after that, the waiter is back at the table refilling the glass of water Eddie all but chugged in an attempt to distract himself from his date’s absence. He texted Buck to see where he was but has yet to receive a response.

Another twenty minutes pass before the waiter is back at Eddie’s table.

“I’m so sorry, sir. But if you’re not planning on ordering anything-”

“It’s fine.” Eddie is already out of his seat and tugging his jacket off of the back of his seat. He’s sure that his cheeks are stained red by the shame he feels about being stood up like this, but it’s nothing in comparison to the disappointment coursing through him. “I’m leaving. Thank you for your kindness.”

He leaves a $20 bill on the table and walks out of the restaurant without looking back.

Buck doesn’t get back to him that night or the night afterwards.

“It’s my own fault,” he tells Hen as they work together to clean the fire truck. It’s been four days since his failed date with Buck and just as long since he’s heard from him. “I was stupid for thinking I could actually trust someone I met through an app.”

“You’re not stupid,” Hen counters. “He is for missing out on the chance of being with someone as amazing as you.”

He knows Hen’s trying to make him feel better, but the words fall flat. If he’s so amazing, how come Buck didn’t show up? Why did he ghost him? Is it something he said during one of their conversations? Did he scare Buck away without even realizing it?

The worst part is, Eddie misses him. Him, this person Eddie never even had a chance to meet. But it’s true. There’s a Buck-shaped void in Eddie’s life, one that he’s struggling to fill. He got used to their daily phone calls and texts and losing both so suddenly has left Eddie feeling like an addict being forced to quit his habit cold turkey.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches Chim making his way over to them. The last thing he wants is someone else weighing in on this whole situation. “Can we drop this?”

Hen looks less than pleased by the request but does as she’s asked. “Hey, Chim.”

“Did you guys hear about that big accident that happened Friday night?” Chim asks, in lieu of a greeting.

Eddie visibly winces at the mention of Friday and Hen places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, never once taking her eye off of Chim. “No, what happened?”

“Apparently there was some kind of explosion and a guy ended up trapped under his Jeep. It took-”

Eddie tunes out of the conversation and steps out from under Hen’s hand so he can move on to a different spot of the truck to clean.

After a week of radio silence from Buck, Eddie deletes every single one of the dating apps he has on his phone. He tried using a few and reached out to a couple of people, but none of them ever felt right. And, with the sting of Buck’s rejection still weighing heavily on his mind, Eddie didn’t feel like he could fully trust any of the people he was messaging anyways.

He contemplates deleting Buck’s number, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

Eddie compromises by putting Buck’s messages on Do Not Disturb.

That same weekend, May catches Eddie alone at a family barbecue being held at the Nash-Grant household.

“What ever happened with that cute guy you were talking to? Buck, right?”

Eddie stills and his breath gets lodged in his throat. He hates that he reacts so viscerally to the name. “It didn’t work out.”

Two weeks later, Chris is playing with his dad’s phone as the two of them make the drive to Abuela's house for Sunday dinner.

“Daddy, your phone says you have eight new messages.”

Eddie’s gaze briefly meets his son’s through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again. He doesn’t remember seeing any new messages when he was on his phone a few minutes ago. “Just ignore them, Chris.”

Eddie has no way of knowing that his son doesn’t heed his advice, choosing instead to go to his dad’s messages app to see who’s sent him that many messages.

“Daddy, can I use your phone?”

Chris has made it a habit as of late to ask Eddie for his phone and his father doesn’t know what to make of that. The last thing he wants is for his son to become reliant on the device to keep him entertained. He knows how slippery that slope can be.

“How about we use those legos that Uncle Bobby bought you instead?”

Eddie expects Chris to be excited about the prospect of using his legos, but all Eddie gets is a pout. “Please? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

As his father, Eddie should be better at denying Chris’s requests even when a pout is involved. But there are days when Eddie will think back to how much of Chris’s life he missed out on while overseas and it makes it impossible for him to say no.

“Fine,” he relents. Chris cheers as Eddie passes his phone over to his son. “But you can only be on it for ten minutes.”

“Okay!”

Eddie makes it a point to check the time on his watch so he can cut Chris off exactly at ten minutes, before getting up to grab the lego set from Chris’s room. By the time he comes back, his son is smiling and laughing at his phone. Eddie assumes he’s either watching a video or playing one of the games he has downloaded on the phone. Since Eddie doesn't hear any voices or music, he assumes it’s the latter.

Two minutes before his time is up, Chris gets up off the couch and hands his father’s phone back to him. “I’m ready to play with my legos now.”

Eddie slides his phone into his back pocket and settles his son on the floor beside him so they can work on their building project together.

“Daddy, my friend is having a bad day.”

Eddie, who’s in the middle of doing the dishes, doesn’t look up. He’s too concentrated on getting the charred remains of his attempt at making pasta off of the pan before it’s too late. If Abuela finds out that he ruined yet another pan with his cooking attempts, he’s almost certain that she’ll disown him. “I’m sorry to hear that, bud.”

“You have to talk to him.”

“Why me?” Eddie turns on the hot water in the hopes that that’ll make this whole process easier.

Christopher huffs, a habit that he’s recently picked up. Eddie doesn’t know where his son learned it from, but he can’t say that he’s a fan of it. It acts as a reminder that his son is growing up and, as much as Eddie wishes he could stop time, it’s not possible. “Because he’s your friend too.”

And that is enough to turn Eddie away from the task at hand. “My friend?”

Christopher puts the phone back to his ear. “I think my daddy forgot about you. I’m going to put him on so he can help you feel better.”

Eddie watches in stunned silence as his son walks over to his side and holds the phone out to him. Chris has that determined look on his face that Eddie is sure he’s seen staring back at him in the mirror. The shock of seeing that expression on anyone other than himself is what prompts Eddie to answer the phone without glancing at the screen to see who it is he’s talking to. “Hello?”

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s still looking at his son, but he’s not really seeing him. His mind is too busy producing images of a man with golden hair, unfairly blue eyes, and a bruise-like birthmark. “Buck?”

It’s been almost a month since Eddie last heard from the other man. He had assumed that the time apart had been enough to erase his presence from Eddie’s mind and dull the effect he felt upon hearing Buck’s voice, but he was wrong. His heart is beating out a rapid cadence and the hand he’s using to hold his phone is shaking slightly. And how, how can he still be reacting like this to someone he’s never met?

“Eddie.”

“I don’t- I-” Words are failing him spectacularly and it annoys Eddie to no end. After the first few days of not hearing back from Buck, Eddie had worked up this whole monologue of things he would say to him. But weeks have passed and everything he thought he’d say when given the chance has all but flown out the window. Then he sees his son, the same person who definitely shouldn’t know who Buck is, sitting at the kitchen table and Eddie knows exactly what he wants to say. “Why the hell were you on the phone with my kid?”

“I can explain-”

“No,” Eddie interjects, feeling all of his anger towards Buck come bubbling back to the surface. He never found an outlet for his emotions after everything fell apart and now it’s coming back full force. Eddie is mindful of the fact that his son is only a few feet away. If not for that, this conversation would be a lot less child-friendly. “No. You stood me up and now, what? You’re using my kid to get back in my good graces?”

Buck has the good sense to not say anything, apparently already prepared for the verbal lashing he was set to receive from Eddie. His silence only works against him as something else occurs to Eddie. “How did you even get in contact with him? Through my phone?”

“I found his messages on your phone,” Chris answers, too young and innocent to identify his father’s tense and poised to lash out demeanor. “There was a little moon next to Buck’s name that was hiding his messages from you. But I saw them, so I responded.”

A lesson about privacy is not something Eddie thought he’d have to have with his son this early on in his life, but apparently it is. Eddie lowers the phone to address his son. “Remember when I told you in the past that you can’t take things that don’t belong to you? The same goes for whatever things you see on my phone, including messages I get from people.”

Chris’s lower lip juts outs and he lowers his head. “I’m sorry, daddy. But I liked talking to Buck. He’s nice.”

It’s the mention of what sounds like an ongoing conversation between Buck and Chris that leads Eddie to open his messages. Right there at the top of the screen with a half-moon next to it is Buck’s name.

Eddie likes to believe he’s an observant person, that the time he spent as a medic on the battlefield made it so that he was equipped to take notice of minor details that others might not. For him, having that ability could mean the difference between life and death for those he was treating. It’s an ability he thought he brought home with him, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe it’s something he’s only good at when out in the field and not while at home with his own son. It’s the only way he can think to explain how he missed the fact that Chris was texting someone he didn’t know with his dad’s phone.

Eddie scrolls through the texts between his son and Buck then. There aren’t too many messages, only a handful of them sent every couple of days, but enough to prove that the two of them have been talking for at least two weeks now. Buck regularly tells Chris that, although he’s happy to talk to him, he’s not sure how Eddie would feel about it. Every time, Chris says that his father won’t mind.

Then, before any outgoing messages from Chris show up, there are a string of messages from Buck that were obviously meant to be read by Eddie.

The first three came through the day after Eddie muted their text conversation.

Buck (12:24pm): I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now but I promise I can explain everything.

Buck (12:25pm): call me if you can?

Buck (8:59pm): okay so you haven’t responded which I understand. I didn’t show up for our date and it’s been over a week since you heard from me but please call me whenever you see this? You deserve better than me explaining myself over text

The next two messages come a day later.

Buck (4:05pm): i deserve the cold shoulder but I promise I can explain

Buck (8:42pm): please let me explain

There’s another message almost a week later.

Buck (6:45am): I really messed this up, didn’t I?

Another message comes a couple days after that.

Buck (3:26pm): I’m so sorry eddie

Then there is one final message from him right before Chris started responding on Eddie’s behalf.

Buck (1:42am): I’ll stop texting you now.

“Eddie?” His name is spoken timidly and it takes Eddie back to the nights he once spent on the phone with Buck. “Are you still there?”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, not sure what to make of all of the messages he’s read. Buck says he has a reason for not showing up, but he never actually said what it was. Eddie hates that, even though all of this time has passed, he still wants to know why he was stood up.

It shouldn’t matter, but it does.

“Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry,” he pauses and then adds, “for everything.”

The apology tugs at the part of Eddie’s heart that wasn’t ready, or willing, to accept that Buck stood him up and then ghosted him for no reason.

Eddie is tempted to say, ‘it’s fine’. It’s what he would usually do, brush aside his feelings and absolve someone else of their wrongdoing. It would be annoyingly easy to do, but he stops himself before he says anything because it’s not fine. Not really. “Okay.”

Neither of them says anything and it’s a strange feeling, being on the phone with Buck and not having a single thing to say. Eddie can’t remember that ever being the case in the past during their phone calls. There hadn’t been a month of silence between them back then though. The weight of that hangs heavily over the both of them.

“Well I should-” Eddie begins just as Buck says, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Anything you can do?”

“To make it up to you,” Buck explains, the words rushing out of him as if he’s scared that Eddie will hang up on him before hearing him out. “If not that, at least let me give you a proper explanation of why I disappeared like I did.”

Eddie doesn’t owe Buck anything, but he does owe it to himself to properly turn the page on this chapter of his life.

“Fine.” Eddie hears something that sounds vaguely like a person choking, but he chooses not to comment on it. “But I choose where we’re going, and I plan to bring someone with me.”

“Deal.”

“And, if you stand me up again, you have to leave me alone. For good this time.”

“Understood, but that won’t happen again. I swear. Thanks for giving me a second chance, Eddie.”

“Thanks for coming with us, May.”

May shrugs and takes a sip of the caramel frappuccino Eddie bought her. “It doesn’t take much to convince me to come to Starbucks.”

He appreciates her nonchalance about this whole situation. Initially, Eddie only planned to have Chris tag along with him. The more he thought about it though, the better he thought it’d be better to have an extra person tag along with the both of them. What if there was a conversation that needed to be had between Buck and Eddie alone? Eddie couldn’t, wouldn’t, just abandon his son to accomplish that.

His first thought was to invite Hen along with him, but then he remembered the conversation he had with May about Buck and knew that she was the perfect choice.

“Mmm!” To Eddie’s left, Chris is smiling happily after taking a sip of his strawberry smoothie. “This is really good.”

“I told you you’d like it.” May ruffles Chris’s hair, much to his son’s amusement.

Eddie wants to be strong enough to not glance at the coffee shop’s entrance every few seconds, but he’s not. This is only too reminiscent of the night Buck stood him up and he’s not ready for things to play out like that again.

“Eddie, you alright?”

It’s May that asks the question, but it’s both her and Chris who are carefully watching Eddie.

“I’m fine.” May pointedly stares at him, putting him on the defensive “What? I am.”

She doesn’t say anything, her gaze catching on something that leads her to push her chair back and walk towards the front of the coffee shop. He tracks her movements, unsure of what motivated the sudden need to get it up. It’s not until she pulls the door open and holds it that he understands. The person who’s walking inside is on crutches and had no way of opening the door himself.

It’s not just anyone that she’s holding the door open for though, it’s Buck.

Eddie learned early on in life that it’s rude to stare, but he can’t help himself. How is it possible that Buck looks even better in person? Aren’t pictures supposed to be more flattering than real-life?

May must also recognize him because she’s the one who leads Buck to the table where Eddie and Chris are sitting. She grabs a chair for him so he can join them before taking her seat beside Eddie again. Eddie is sure they’re quite the sight - him in the middle being flanked by a teenager and a child sitting across from a man who easily towers over all three of them and looks like he’s made up entirely of muscle.

“Hi,” Buck greets, resting his crutches against the table. They’re almost twice as tall as Chris’s crutches.

It’s jarring to hear his voice in person when Eddie’s only ever heard him speak over the phone. “Hi.”

“You didn’t tell me you have crutches too!” Chris exclaims a little too loudly. A couple of heads turn in their direction, but Chris pays them no mind.

Buck’s smile is soft as he looks over at Chris and oh, that’s really not fair. Eddie became familiar with Buck’s smile through the photos he used for his dating profile, but this is different. Not only is Eddie seeing it in person for the first time, it’s being directed at the most important person in Eddie’s life - his son. “And you must be Christopher, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“What happened to your leg?”

“Chris,” Eddie warns, even though it’s the same question on his mind. As far as he knew, there had never been anything wrong with Buck’s leg.

“I’m May,” May cuts in, saving them from what could’ve been an awkward conversation and holding out her hand for Buck to shake. He does, seemingly unphased by the people Eddie decided to bring along with him.

“Buck. Thanks for holding the door open for me back there.”

“Sure.” She stands up again and Eddie wonders if there’s someone else she’s about to hold the door open for. Instead, she grabs her drink and Chris’s. “Chris and I are gonna go sit at that empty table over there so you guys can talk.”

Chris goes willingly, allowing May to help him get his crutches on so they can walk over to the opposite end of the coffee shop. She lets Chris take the lead but turns back around momentarily to address Buck, “don’t you dare hurt him again.”

“Did she just threaten me?” Buck asks once May is out of earshot.

Eddie’s really glad he chose to bring her along. “I think so.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s only a teenager, but I’m still feeling intimidated.”

“You probably should. Her mom’s a cop.”

Eddie shouldn’t take joy in the way that Buck’s eyes widen at that piece of information, but he does. Good, let him squirm. It might put them back on equal footing because right now Eddie is disarmed by just how attractive Buck is, especially this close-up. How and why is someone allowed to have eyes that are that blue?

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“Mhm.”

Buck rubs the back of his neck. Is that a nervous tick that he’s done before while on the phone with Eddie? “Can I get you anything? A drink? Scone? Cookie?”

“I’m fine.” Then, because they’re here for a reason, he says, “so, that explanation I was offered?”

“Right.” Buck tries to adjust his position, but in doing so, he accidentally knocks his cast against the pole below the table. He winces and Eddie almost does the same. “I was on my way to meet you at the restaurant when I got into an accident.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that statement. He was ready for some sort of pathetic excuse - Buck’s phone died, he confused the day or time of their date, an unforeseen but conveniently timed emergency kept him from showing up - which is why this reason has left him reeling.

“What?”

“I know it sounds fake or like a lie or whatever, but I swear I’m telling the truth.”

Eddie really has no explanation for knowing that Buck is telling the truth. It’s not like he’s had the chance to learn the nuances of Buck’s expression to parse out the truth in a sea of potential lies, but Eddie still believes him. It doesn’t make sense but sometimes the most important things in life just don’t.

All the righteous anger Eddie was holding onto for weeks seeps out of him in seconds. It leaves behind a void that is slowly filling up with a messy combination of concern, regret and sympathy. “I had no idea.”

“How could you?” Buck asks, smiling ruefully. He shifts in his seat again, searching for a comfortable position that Eddie’s sure he won’t find. Not with a cast as bulky as the one wrapped around his leg. He should probably be keeping it elevated, but Eddie refrains from saying so. “The details are pretty fuzzy. All I remember is one second, I was driving to the restaurant to meet up with you and then, out of nowhere, there was a loud boom and I was pinned under my Jeep.”

Something about this story is familiar, which doesn’t make any sense. Where could Eddie have heard it from if not from Buck himself?

“Considering the explosion itself, everyone keeps telling me that I’m lucky to be alive,” he continues, and Eddie can hear the ‘but’ in his voice. It’s as familiar to Eddie as the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, one that Eddie used to see reflected back at him when he first came home from his last deployment. It’s a look he still sometimes sees after rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face after a particularly bad nightmare. Before Eddie can say anything about it, Buck blinks and whatever other emotion was attempting to bubble to the surface is efficiently cut off. “My phone wasn’t as lucky though.”

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs, hand itching to reach out and cover Buck’s. He knows trauma and the last thing he wants is to put Buck in a position where he’s forced to relive his own.

“My sister was able to replace it for me and I had it backed up to my computer so restoring it was easy, but I wasn’t in a talking mood,” Buck presses on, acting as if he hadn’t heard Eddie say his name. “I did think about you though. It was one of my first thoughts when I woke up in the hospital, but I don’t know. How do you tell someone you’ve never met but have very real feelings for that you’re in for a long road to recovery? That’s a lot to put on anyone - I couldn’t do that to you.”

Buck’s last statement is punctuated by a laugh that sounds like it physically pains him. Eddie wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been any good with words. He can’t even figure out if there is a right thing to say. Him and Buck are stuck in an awkward middle ground that exists as a result of online dating.

It’s something Eddie had read about before what was supposed to be his and Buck’s first time meeting. There were countless testimonials about people who had been in virtual contact struggling to find that same spark when meeting in person. It was enough to scare Eddie at the time, but not enough to keep him from showing up at the restaurant that night.

In all the articles he read though, there was never any mention about what to do when the man you’re supposed to meet up with ends up in an accident, doesn’t speak to you for a month, and then suddenly makes a reappearance.

“Anyways,” Buck says, eyes darting down to the table. “I get it. To you, it seemed like I stood you up and then ghosted you and that’s pretty unforgivable. I just wanted to apologize for that and I’m really glad you gave me the chance to do so.”

Buck keeps his eyes downcast and that’s when Eddie realizes this is it, this is everything that Buck showed up today to tell him. There’s nothing else to be said and it leaves Eddie with a steadily growing pit in his stomach.

This isn’t the way things were supposed to work out. They shouldn’t be meeting up for the first time a month after what should’ve been their first date. Buck shouldn’t be sitting across from Eddie, unable to look at him. Eddie shouldn’t already be missing Buck even though he’s not gone.

In a perfect world, or at least a better one, Buck wouldn’t have ended up in that car accident that night. He would’ve made it to the restaurant like he intended to and whatever was growing between him and Eddie could’ve had a chance to continue blooming. But they don’t live in a perfect world and Buck did get into an accident on his way to see Eddie and how is it fair for Eddie to condemn Buck for something that was out of his control?

These thoughts all come at Eddie faster than he can fully reconcile them, all because it sounds like Buck is gearing up to say goodbye and Eddie’s not ready to hear it.

It makes zero sense that he feels this way. Then again, online dating didn’t make sense to him until he tried it out. Maybe this, holding onto Buck instead of letting him go again, is something else that won’t make sense until Eddie tries it.

And that’s the truth of the matter here, isn’t it? Eddie lost his chance with Buck once thanks to a freak accident and now that a second chance has appeared seemingly out of thin air, Eddie’s not ready to let go again.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he decides to repeat some of the words Buck had spoken earlier, the same ones that Eddie’s brain had latched onto the moment they were said. “Very real feelings, huh?”

Eddie sure as hell has never been one to vocalize the way he feels and it’s refreshing to come across someone that does. Then again, haven’t conversations with Buck always been this way? Him speaking exactly what’s on his mind while Edde sat back and wondered what it would take for him to do the same?

“That’s what you took away from everything I just told you?” Buck’s cheeks are a light shade of pink when he says this and Eddie decides he likes that much more than the sad eyes and the goodbye in Buck’s voice from earlier.

“Is there anything else about that statement that I should’ve focused on?”

There’s not a hint of hesitation in Buck's voice only seconds later when he responds. “No, I guess not.”

“Good.”

They stare at each other in companionable silence then and something warm settles in Eddie’s chest. He can’t give it a name, not yet. All he knows is that it’s been too long since he last felt it and what are the odds that it would come back to him in a coffee shop of all places? It’s annoyingly cliché and, if anyone were to question Eddie about it, he’d deny it until his dying breath.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

Buck sounds hopeful and it tugs at a chord deep within Eddie’s heart, as if the younger man believes that forgiveness is something he must earn and that’s not readily deserved. It’s something Eddie knows all too well. It’s also something he's willing to give Buck. no additional questions asked.

“It means there’s nothing to forgive.”

This time Eddie does reach for Buck’s hand. Buck’s fingers slide within the gaps of Eddie’s with the kind of familiarity that should only exist between couples who have known each other much longer than Buck and Eddie have. Then again, the two have known each other, albeit virtually, for a fair amount of time. There’s more merit to that than Eddie realized.

It might be too soon to think this, but Eddie believes this - holding Buck’s hand - is something he can get used to.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

“Thank you for striking up a conversation with my son.”

The statement is ridiculous if Buck’s laughter is anything to go off of, but it’s also the truth. Without Christopher, none of this would be possible. Eddie wouldn’t be seated here, across from the man who’s stupid dating profile bio and indescribable good looks were, and still are, almost too good to be true.

“Do you think we should invite Chris and the cop’s daughter back to the table? They’re very openly staring at us.”

When Eddie follows Buck’s gaze, he sees that the younger man is correct. Both Chris and May are scrutinizing them. May much more so than Chris, but it’s obvious that they’re both staring. “I think you’re right.”

With a subtle nod on Eddie’s part, May jumps out of her seat and helps Chris do the same. Her patience with his son is something Eddie refuses to ever overlook. She makes sure to carry Chris’s unfinished drink for him as the two of them make their way back to the table. May helps Chris get comfortable in the seat beside his father before reclaiming her seat on the other side of Eddie.

“Looks like you two worked things out.” May says, her brown eyes focused on Eddie and Buck’s intertwined hands.

Buck tugs loosely on Eddie’s hand, maybe to let go of his hand to make things a little less obvious, but Eddie doesn’t let him. Now that he has committed to giving things another shot, he refuses to let anything deter him. That includes an over-invested teenager and her too-observant eyes. He can trust May to keep this from her mother and stepfather for now, even if it means bribing her with more trips to Starbucks in the future.

“It looks like we did.”

Then. because his son is too smart for his own good, Chris also notices that Eddie and Buck’s hands are clasped over the table between them. “Does this mean you like him too, daddy?”

Buck looks far more amused than he has any right to. It’s not fair but, at the same time, it’s such a welcome contrast from the way Buck had looked earlier that Eddie has no desire to voice his objections. “I do, buddy.”

“You see. I told you he was your friend.” Eddie would be exasperated by his son’s know-it-all tone if not for the fact that it’s entirely warranted. “Can we keep him?”

Eddie should probably correct Chris, explain that Buck is a person and not an object that can be kept. He doesn’t only because, as his mind has a tendency to do, Eddie immediately starts thinking about worst case scenarios. In this case, it’s one Eddie already experienced. It consisted of a long month full of casting frequent glances at a silent phone and nights where he wished a soothing voice might fill his ears and help lull him to sleep.

Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand, bringing him back to the present and to his son who’s still expectantly waiting for his father’s answer.

Before saying anything, Eddie takes a moment to take in his surroundings. His son’s curious stare, May’s knowing smile and, finally, Buck’s encouraging grin. It’s not logical for Eddie to already be imagining a ‘Forever’ in his future with this man who he still has so much to learn about, but that’s not stopping him from doing so anyways.

“I really hope so, Chris.”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #my writing

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #446

“so you can throw me to the wolves / tomorrow i will come back, leader of the whole pack”

Favourite cheese? American. Superman or Batman? I know literally nothing of Superman, but I like Batman. Who are your best friends? The only person I consider a best friend is Sara. Name the 3 most important people in your life: My mom, Sara, and... I suppose myself since I cherish my mental health VERY deeply. Are you currently learning from anyone how to play any instruments? No. Do you know anyone who is overly flirty with people? Girl or a boy? In my personal opinion, yes. I do believe it's possible to be "overly" flirty, considering you can really lead people on. It's a she. Do you believe vampires are real? Not the stereotypical Twilight kind. No. Have you ever been to a porn website? Were you addicted to it afterword? No. I'm really not into that. What is the most disgusting thing you think the opposite sex can do? I think the most disgusting thing anyone can do is commit rape. Would you rather be able to teleport or freeze time? Which one seems best? I feel teleportation is obviously more convenient and useful in dangerous situations. Have you seen the movie Twister? Did the tornadoes look real to you? LKJFL;AKSDJFKLASJDLFKA;WE NOOOOOOOOOO. I am WAY too terrified of tornadoes to watch that. Have you actually been through a devastating natural disaster before? Hurricane Floyd was pretty devastating. I was too young to really remember it, though. Did your mom ever fix your eggs and bacon into a smiley face as a kid? She probably did. What fast food place, in your opinion, has the best french fries? BOJANGLE'S, AHHHHHHHHHHHH. Do you believe one day aliens might take over the planet Earth? I mean, it's possible, but I don't know. Do you remember when they used to actually throw candy out at parades? I didn't know they stopped. Does it bother you when people burp around you or do you do it too? I couldn't possibly care less, it's a natural bodily function. Just because of societal standards though, I don't burp in public, though, but only around family and close friends. What is one kind of music you’d do anything to not listen to in the car? Anything like rap that has a STUPIDLY loud bass that just annoys everyone within a ten mile radius. When was the last time you babysat, if ever? Did anything bad happen? A year or two ago, for my nephew. No one else was free to watch him, so I had no choice. Nothing bad happened, besides nearly having a panic attack. Do you ever talk to people you met online through webcam? Or is that weird? No. Even Sara and I don't do it, because I'm too self-conscious of how I look. Even though she's seen me plenty before irl. Would you ever consider becoming a scientist? Why would you or why not? Well, I majored in biology briefly... I wanted to be a wildlife biologist. I just adore animals and thought I could do it. I just couldn't handle school. When is the next time you’ll talk to the cousin you’re closest to? I'm not especially close to any of my cousins. Are you really into vintage things? Have you ever been into that stuff? Yessss! is writing something that you enjoy doing? Definitely. Would you rather read or write? Write. Would you rather draw or take photographs? If I wind up being very proud of the product, I prefer drawing, but I take pictures far more. When was the last time you cheated at something? I have no clue. Has anyone ever copied off of your homework assignments? I think so? Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? ... *stares at my folder labelled "Mark"* What would you consider your favorite holiday? Why is this? Christmas. I love the whole vibe of it. The weather, the smells, the treats, my niece's and nephew's excitement... I adore all the lights and decorations, the gratefulness for family and your loved ones in general... I just love Christmas. If you’re a girl, do you have big hips? Too big? I'd say my hips are normal. Girls, do you think you look good in dresses or not? God no. Not anymore. Have you ever taken a pottery class before? Nope. How many times have you seen Star Wars? Be honest. Once. I didn't like it. Has your best friend ever made you cry? Yes. But in her defense, we've both made the other cry. Have you ever entered a talent competition? God no, I ain't got shit to flaunt. Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? Yes. If you wear eye shadow, do you put on a dark colour or a light? And if you wear mascara, what colour is it? I only ever wear black for both of those. What is your favourite Christmas movie? Jim Carrey's How the Grinch Stole Christmas. What do you get complimented on the most? My Markiplier tattoo, actually. What do you think of your best friend’s ex? One I REALLY don't like, the other I'm neutral about. Are you biracial? No. Do you have Pop-Tarts in your house right now? No. We try to not buy them, given they're just TOTALLY empty calories. They don't fill me at all. Is anyone’s birthday coming up? No. Does/did either of your parents serve in the military? No. Do you like sour candy? I LOVE sour candy. Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Alaska, to see the Northern Lights. Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? I haven't driven in well over a year. Hell, maybe two. But no, because I'd need prescription sunglasses. Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? God no. Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yeah. What time do you usually have dinner? 5:30-6:30, usually. What’s your favourite meat? Chicken, I think. What is your favourite meal of the day and why? Breakfast. I just enjoy breakfast foods. What colour is your shampoo? White. Tell me a silly little old wive’s tale you believed when you were a child: My older sister got me to believe that if you said a word a ridiculous amount of times, it'd be the only word you knew how to say anymore, lmao. Shut up, I was little. What was the last magazine you bought? Do you subscribe to any? I don't buy magazines. Whose Facebook profile did you last look at? Was there anything that caught your attention? Uh, that's a good question. Do you regret your last relationship? Not at all. What’s better, mashed potatoes or sweet potatoes? Mashed potatoes, though I'm picky with them and the texture. Did you ever used to make cookies, cakes, or pie with your grandma? No. Do you like kids? Not especially. They ask too many questions and can be really rude, even though I know they usually don't mean to be. What are you listening to? I'm watching Gab Smolders play Dino Crisis 2. I finished her playthrough of Final Fantasy X, so now I feel a void in my soul that I am trying to fill with a new series lmao. Do you burn incense? Not really anymore. I'm not against it, I just... haven't. What is your favorite kind of cracker? Cheese-Itz. Can you name a single song by Billy Joel without looking it up? Yeah; I can name a few, actually. My dad loves Billy Joel, so I heard him a lot growing up. "Piano Man" is a classic. Do you like regular peppermint candy canes, or do you prefer different flavored ones [fruits, bubble gum, cinnamon, etc.]? I actually really like the Jolly Rancher ones. Have you ever been kissed while sitting atop the hood of a car? That's actually possible... but I'm not sure. I think I have a faint memory of lying on a car hood with Jason before. What do you think is the dumbest/tackiest piercing? I don't like calling a piercing either of those, like if they make someone feel more confident and attractive, good for them. I can say I'm personally not a fan of the smiley piercing, though. Have you ever requested a song on the radio? No. When I was a kid at a birthday party, though, one of the girls did. Does your mother still take care of you if you get ill? She helps a lot, yeah. What is one song that always brings back memories every time you hear it? Honestly, too many. I attach way too aggressively to songs. Do you currently have any pimples? Not currently, no. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Ugh, yes. I couldn't sleep for shit. How does it make you feel looking at pics with your ex and someone else? I have only seen one picture of Jason with the girl he dated after me and it. Set. Me. On. Fucking. Fire. It's pathetic. If you’re not in college, why? All it did was give me emotional breakdowns. What do you think about MTV? I am way too out of the loop on what goes on on any TV channel to answer this. What was your very first day of your very first job like? What’d you do? How long did it take you to get the hang of it, and feel comfortable with working? This was waaaay too long ago... All I remember is actually being hopeful, though nervous. I never got to the point of feeling comfortable there. Or at any job. If you have a dog, are they friendly to strangers or other dogs? We don't have a dog, but we do have a cat that is EXTREMELY skittish around strangers. Someone he doesn't know comes through the door? He's bolting to hide. Do people ever comment on or joke about your driving? Well, I got flipped off once by a driver, so... I'd consider that a silent comment. I, to this day, don't know why they (it was a group of guys) did it, but it's stuck with me. What was the last thing to move you? Are you easily moved or inspired? The ending of FFX alsdkfjkaljlkwjer. And yes. If you`ve ever seen your very favorite band, did you cry when you saw them? Was it like a dream come true? If you`ve never seen them, do you think you would? I haven't, but I probably would a little bit. Of all the reality competitions you’ve watched, who are some of your all-time favorite contestants and what shows were they from? From America's Got Talent, I adore(d) Landau Eugene Murphy Jr., as well as Prince Poppycock. I keep up with them both on Facebook. Ever had a friend named Alex or John? One of my closest online friends was Alex. A couple years ago she just... got a boyfriend and fell off the face of the earth. Are you happy with your relationship status? I mean... no, I'm ridiculously lonely, but being single is for the best right now. What kind of stuff do you like on your hot dogs? Just ketchup and mustard. Have you ever been in a spelling bee? No. What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? Mom absolutely always assumes she's right. Dad repeats himself like CRAZY. Would you say you’re someone who has good manners? Yes. Did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? Actually, the doctors couldn't determine mine (or any of Mom's kids') because my legs were ALWAYS crossed when they did ultrasounds. Mom says she "knew" I was a girl, though. Have you ever been addicted to something unhealthy? I'm addicted to caffeine, yes. Who makes the best desserts in your entire family? Hm, I dunno. Do you have good dreams or nightmares more? I have very severe sleep apnea that results in very violent nightmares almost any time I sleep without my APAP mask. Even WITH the damn mask, I have them a lot. When was the last time someone insulted you? What was the insult? *shrug* Do you have trouble reading small fonts? Yes. I used to find it aesthetically pleasing, but my vision is just too bad now, even with my (shitty) glasses. Do you know anybody that believes that magic/witchery truly exists? I think so. Do you find watching animals in their natural habitat to be exciting & fascinating? Absolutely!! The last time you had sex: did you want it, or did the other person want it? ... You know it's supposed to be a mutual desire, right?? What does your sibling(s) call you? "Britt." Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? Maybe? I'm unsure. Did/do you believe them? Hell no. I don't believe in psychics and believe people who claim to be so are manipulative pieces of shit. Is anything annoying you right now? I am bored to an inexplicable level askldjfla;wejlr. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Yeah. Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? No. Have you ever felt abandoned? Well yes. By definition, my dad abandoned our family. Where are you? I’m in my bed. What’s been the worst part of this day? I've just been so, so bored. I'm sick and fucking tired of dealing with anhedonia. Who last encouraged you to better yourself? My therapist.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''throne'' by bring me the horizon

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years

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Love of my Life

Ao3 link

Summary: One drink. That's all it took. One drink and Roman was calling into radio stations in the dead of night and professing his dedicated love to one Patton Baker. At least no one he knew had heard him. ...right? Pairings: Romantic royality, platonic/brotherly analogical, parental logince + parental prinxiety Warnings: Brief, throw-away mention of alcohol a few times, food mentions Author’s note: Italicized sentences are flashbacks to the night before

"Hello darling, and welcome to the Sleepless Hour with your very own Remy Crescent. May I ask what has you calling on this fine evening?"

"Oh, just the love of my life."

Roman groaned and pulled the covers over his head. The damned sun was trying to shine its way into his room, and while he normally would love to enjoy being caught in the world's biggest spotlight, he wasn't quite feeling it this morning.

Maybe it was the fact that he could hear loud whispering from downstairs, which always meant some sort of trouble. Maybe it was the fact that despite having only ONE drink last night he felt like Holy Hell. Maybe it was the fact that following the logic that one drink had provided he had publicly and proudly confessed his love to one Patton Baker.

Did he regret what he said? Of course not! But the timing and the manner in which he declared it was decidedly not ideal.

"Wow, love of your life, huh? Quite the bold statement sugar. I like it. What's got you crazed about this one?"

"Just EVERYTHING about him. I don't think I have enough time to say it all."

"Ah, why don't you give it a go anyways?"

"Dad! Better Dad's at the door!"

Roman sighed even as he smiled, pushing himself out of bed at the cry of his youngest. "You know you can't call him that until I marry him right?" He yelled back as he fumbled to get changed.

"Father, if we wait until that time, we will either be calling him 'better Dad' tomorrow or never."

"Logan!"

Roman could almost hear his eldest roll his eyes- not in disrespect, simply in annoyance that the world couldn't keep up with him. "You have a tendency to either do everything at once or never. I drew from your past actions in romantic pursuits and your general personality to make my statement, and I maintain that it's accurate."

"Yeah, well, what have we said about telling the truth in this household?"

"To squash it down unless it is pleasing and flattering to you?"

"There ya go!"

Roman could definitely hear Logan sigh at that, cut off from responding by the doorbell ringing. Virgil called up again, "Dad!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Well, first of all, he's absolutely wonderful with my kids. I've got two of them- love them as I do, that doesn't make them any less of handful."

"Oh, wild childs?"

"The complete opposite, actually. Quiet. Not too trusting. But for him... he's amazing. He's already replaced me as the favorite Dad and we're not even close to being actually married."

"Well, that's quite the start- I'll hand it to 'im. But you said you could go on?"

Roman tried not to trip too badly down the stairs. Given the disappointed stares his children were giving him when he finally ended up on ground level, he decided he hadn't achieved that too well.

"Dad, have you even heard of a comb?"

"Virgil, please." Logan chastised lightly. "He's clearly heard of a comb before. Whether or not he's attempted to acquaint himself with one this morning is up for debate, however."

"You two and your debates." Roman tsked with a smile, running a hand through his hair and trying to ignore that they clearly had a point.

Virgil tilted his head with a frown. "Is it really a debate when the answer's clear?"

Roman gasped dramatically, raising his free hand to his chest. "I cannot believe this! My own children! Sons of my loin!"

"We're adopted." Logan and Virgil replied in unison, pitch matched in tired judgement.

"I hate that you can do that."

The doorbell rang again. Roman's attention shot back towards the door. "Oh, right. Patton's here."

"I can't believe you forgot about the 'love of your life.'" Virgil teased, the smirk growing on his face making Roman's checks heat up.

"You two were supposed to be sleeping." He said immediately, the slight smile on Logan's face already clueing him into the fact that Virgil wasn't the only one eavesdropping.

Virgil shrugged. "You were loud." He said simply, sniggering. "Loud with your declarations of LOVE~"

Roman shook his head. "I can't believe I'm surprised."

"Our behavior should be relatively predictable by now, yes." Logan agreed with him helpfully.

Roman just ruffled the older boy's hair as he went by, earning himself a glare from Logan as he rushed to fix it. Roman chuckled as he approached the door.

"I could go on for eons."

"Well, babes, I'm sorry to say we've only got two minutes but if you go fast I'm sure it'll feel like longer."

"Two minutes really isn't enough time. He's too perfect. Too gorgeous."

"Oh, gorgeous, huh? Come on, love, details! Wax that poetic- I can tell you're just dying to."

Roman pulled open the door. The day was rainy, the sky grey and overcast- not that Roman noticed.

"It's not waxing poetic if it's simple fact. Patton is... Patton is literal sunshine..."

Patton was, as expected, waiting cheerfully on Roman's doorstep, mood undamped despite the fact that his clothes were not. His smile was still there, of course; it always was, bright and shiny as if he had stolen the light the sky was so sorely lacking just to brighten it.

"...his smile could light up a starless night; his eyes are prettier than the sapphires that could only dream to ever be as lovely..."

"Can I come in?" Patton asked lightly, eyes shining with mirth from behind his wiry glasses. He lifted the sealed container in his arms up just a bit, shaking it. "I brought cookies!"

"You know you are always welcome here, my darling marshmallow." Roman said with as charming of a smile as he could muster, sweeping backwards and bowing to let Patton in. Patton laughed.

"...oh, and his laugh! Like the finest silver bells ringing, like bluebirds singing on a perfect summer day..."

Patton shook himself a little, rubbing at his wet arms with wet hands as if that was going to dry anything. He glanced up from his unsuccessful work, spotting Logan and Virgil as he did so. His smile only grew.

"Lo-lo! Virge!" Patton greeted them excitedly. "How are my favorite kids!?"

"I don't know, I've never met them." Virgil answered, earning himself a 'stern' glare from Patton.

"Now, kiddo, come on. Don't make me physically fight you." He threatened. Virgil's eyes widened very slightly. He knew it was no idle threat. The last time he had ignored that warning he hadn't been allowed to escape Patton's hug for a full minute.

Terrifying.

Virgil shuffled his feet. "'m good."

"Great!" Patton exclaimed before opening his arms. "Now, can also get a hug from one of my favorite kids?"

"You're laying this on thick." Virgil mumbled before nodding his head at the container still in Patton's hand. "Are those cookies?"

"Yep!"

Virgil found himself very willing to submit to the hug in exchange for cookies. Patton didn't try to put up a fight as Virgil snatched it from him. He turned his attention to Logan instead. "And my other favorite not-son?"

"Adequate." Logan replied. He raised an eyebrow when Patton re-opened his arms. "Unlike my easily bribed brother, I do not fall to simple cookies."

"Do you fall if they're Crofter's cookies?"

"...You're playing dirty." Logan said, but his attention was clearly now caught by the treat Virgil was munching on. Patton's smile only grew when Logan glared to the side but still shuffled over, pretending he didn't maintain the hug for longer than the three second minimum before claiming his own cookie.

"My, my, you really are smitten, aren't you?"

"Please, for the love of my love, never assume I am anything less. Patton deserves no less."

"Well he's definitely batting twenty-twenty at the moment. Great with kids and clearly beautiful. Considerin' we got another good fifty seconds here, I'm sure there's something else you'd like to enlighten us on about your dearest?"

Roman smiled as well as he came to stand next to Patton. "Little sugar addicts." He said lovingly. "So easily won over. Isn't that right, Lo-lo?"

Logan briefly glanced up from what was already his third cookie. "Never call me that ever again."

"You let Patton call you that!"

"Patton brought cookies." Virgil answered for Logan.

"Well, I make you cookies, too!" Roman protested.

"Burnt ones don't count."

Roman pouted, and Patton giggled. "Come on, Ro, I'll teach you how to bake your way into their hearts."

"I'm not sure that's possible." Roman responded. "They're ungrateful."

"And he's REALLY bad at baking."

Roman pointed at Virgil. "See! Point proven."

Patton seemed even more amused. "Well, I'll teach you how to bake your way into my heart instead, then." He offered with a little wink, grabbing Roman's hand and innocently pulling him into the kitchen like he wasn't going to be the literal death of Roman.

"Everything. I could tell you about everything. He's too wonderful. And so kind. He's sweeter than a sugar high. Mischievous as an imp, though. But if any of the Fates still favor me, he's my imp."

Patton only released Roman's hand once they were both in the kitchen, quickly shifting through the pantries for the ingredients he'd need. Roman leaned against one of the counters as casually as he could while he was being useless.

"As much as I adore the idea of pretending I have a chance at baking, I know a diversion when I see one." Roman commented idly. "Any reason you needed to get away from the troublemakers?"

"I don't know what you're suggesting, sweetie." Patton replied, tone much too innocent. "I just want to bake with you! And you know what I love to do while I bake?"

"Talk to people?" Roman suggested as he pointed out the cupboard that held their bowls.

"That too! But when there's no one around, I like to listen to the radio!"

"I can already hear the choir boys singing. I know earlier you said you were nowhere near thinking about marriage, but I mean... you two seem very close. How long have you been dating? A year? Two?"

"Heh, well, technically we're not dating- considering we haven't actually gone on a date yet."

"...I'm going to have Dave give us another minute because sweetheart I must have misheard you. Not a date? Not a single one? About this man you seem willing to die for?"

"Well we have been together for six months! We're just so busy with work... we never have time for a proper date!"

Roman, oblivious, hummed in interest. "If you want, I can turn it on now-"

"No, I've got you right now, silly." Patton replied lightheartedly as he started measuring out flour, his tongue sticking out just the slightest in his concentration. Roman tried not to melt at the sight. "I was just saying that I was listening to it last night while I was baking!"

"Baking at night? And here I thought you were the responsible one."

Patton shrugged with a grin. "Couldn't sleep! And you know what they say..."

"Sweetness, I am always thinking about you. I doubt that's what was keeping you up."

Patton shot Roman a special smile that suggested a type of trickery he didn't understand before he went back to his measuring. "Maybe." He said simply before pushing on. "The music station I was listening to kept having interruptions, but that was alright. I liked listening to the people talk. Maybe you've heard of the segment- it's called the Sleepless Hour?"

Roman froze.

"Take my suggestion, hun- schedule time for one. Because as it stands, your man is either a literal angel... or you're just crazy."

"Trust me, it's both."

"So I can tell, given that, from what I've heard tonight, I doubt you dislike a single thing about this Patton."

"Oh, there is one thing I dislike about him."

"Ooooh, spill the tea, sis. Let's here perfect boy's one flaw."

"I, uh... nope. Never heard of it."

"Huh. That's odd." Patton commented, feigning casual indifference. "Considering I could have sworn I heard you on it last night."

"I... you must've mistaken voice."

"Oh, I'd never mistake a voice that indescribably pretty."

Roman sighed as melodramatically as he could manage. "Alright, you've caught me! It was late, and I was craving some proper music, unlike what the heathens had been playing. Sue me for calling in a request-"

"Oh, you were most certainly not just calling in a music request." Patton stopped him before he could continue.

"...I'll take it you actually heard more than just the very end of what I said?"

"I heard every word.”

"...Listen, I was a little drunk, you can't really take everything I said at face value-"

"One flaw, right?"

Roman looked away from Patton, scratching at the back of his neck. "Please tell me you heard even five seconds past that part."

Barely a moment later, Roman saw the blur of light blue and grey suddenly rush at him, wrapping around him and snuggling into his neck within a second. "I meant it when I said every word, love."

"Patton's one flaw is that he's not in my arms right this minute."

Roman only took a moment to collect himself before he hugged Patton back, easily pressing a kiss into Patton's curls before resting his chin on top of them.

"Much better."

"It is." Patton agreed.

"I'm sorry I sleep-drunk ranted about you and your perfection on late night radio."

"It's alright." Patton said, smiling into Roman's neck. "It was sweet. Though it was very rude of you to say all those nice things and be out of cuddling range."

"If I had been in cuddling range I would have just told you all of those things and cut out the middleman."

Patton hummed. "Is it too soon to move in?"

"With no dates under our belts?" Roman said before laughing. "Virgil and Logan would rat us out to Mr. Crescent."

"But I just want you to always be in cuddling range."

"Soon, dearheart, I promise." Roman said fondly. "For now, however, we should probably finish making our cookies so that I might pretend I can win over the favor of my children from you."

"But then I'll have to let go of you." Patton whined. "And I don't wanna."

Roman smiled as he moved on his hands, slowly rubbing calming circles into Patton's back. "You don't have to let go just yet."

"Aren't you just the biggest sap this side of the Mississippi."

"I should hope to be."

"Well, I wish you two the best of luck with your no-dates dating. Dave says I have to wrap it up here, but I'd feel bad if I didn't ask you if you had a song request in mind?"

"Nah. I'm just here to make sure everyone knows I'll never love another man as much as I love Patton."

"I think we got the message loud and clear, sugar. Still lovely to chat with you. I'll see if I can't find somethin' that's got the right tune for you two."

Whether or not the radio was on didn't matter, because the song Remy had put on last night was no longer playing, but that was alright. They had still heard it, even if separately, and the sentiment still echoed even without sound. Maybe they hadn't actually called each other last night, but that was alright too. There would be plenty of chances for it in the future.

I Just Called to Say I Love You plays

#I wrote this when I should have been working on Logan's b-day fic because I'm a mess #but I'm told it came out quite fluffy so worth it #royality #ts roman #ts patton #ts virgil #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sander sides

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xfirepilot · 5 years

Text

texas hold ‘em

summary: a building collapses with tk and judd inside.

ao3 link

“TK?”

A voice.

It sounded so far away.

“Kid?”

Suddenly he was being shaken awake and he cried out at the pain that exploded in his side and leg.

Then he remembered. The building they were in evacuating people from had collapsed. Who was in the building with him when it happened?

He blinked and groaned at the sudden movement he tried to make as he looked to see the person speaking to him.

Judd.

“J’dd?” His speech slurred. His head felt fuzzy and he just wanted to sleep.

“Hey, hey TK! No falling asleep. You stay awake, you hear me?” Judd all but ordered the younger man. The concern was evident in his voice as he spoke, looking down at his injured friend.

No, TK was more than his friend. He was his brother. His little shit of a brother who never listened, but wore his heart on his sleeve and thought that he could do anything.

His brother who wasn’t going to die today.

“TK, I am going to try to lift this off your side okay? It’s gonna hurt kid.”

TK looked up at Judd tiredly and nodded slowly, waiting for the pain. Judd took a breath before lifting the debris off of him and he winced as he heard TK scream. He threw the debris aside and kneeled beside the younger man.

He took notice of TK’s eyes closing and gently shook him.

“What did I say about sleeping? Gotta keep those eyes opened so you can see your dad and Carlos when we get out of here.”

“Hey Cap, can you read?” He asked into his radio.

All he got was static as a response.

He cursed, before looking down at TK.

“M’tired,” the younger firefighter mumbled, shifting on the ground, his movements sluggish.

Judd shifted TK onto his lap carefully, mindful of his injuries. Taking his jacket off, he laid it on the smaller man, noting that TK was unconsciously shivering.

“Judd! TK!” Judd turned his head so fast he thought he was going to get whiplash, but he thanked the heavens as he heard Owen’s voice and could hear the team moving debris out of the way.

Mateo came through first and he looked down at the two of them in shock, not remembering Owen was right behind him and he almost fell forward as Owen accidentally crashed into him to reach his son.

“TK!” Owen yelled, kneeling down beside his son who was now barely conscious. It brought him back to six months ago, finding TK unconscious on the floor in his Brooklyn apartment, clinging to life.

“Cap, he has an injury to his side and leg. Not sure how severe it is, but he was under the debris for a while before I found him.” Judd stated, watching as the father looked down as his son with concern.

“TK?” Owen gently rubbed his hand on TK’s chest to see if it would help wake up his son and he let out the breath he was holding as he saw his son’s eyes open.

“Dad?” He asked, confused. He winced as the pain in his body caught up with him, but before his father could reply, he heard someone yelling.

“Owen?” Michelle yelled, coming through with her EMT team and a backboard.

“TK? Sweetie. I am going to put the brace around your neck okay?” She stayed softly, grabbing the collar from Nancy and putting it gently around his neck.

“We are gonna need to lift him on the count of three onto the backboard.”

With Judd handling TK from under him, Owen and Tim lifted TK onto the board and Tim and Nancy, carried him on the board until they could get outside to a gurney near the ambulance. Owen, Judd and the team ran behind them, their faces anxious with worry.

“Come on Cap,” Michelle said, letting Owen know to come into the ambulance.

Judd looked at his boss, “we’ll meet you at the hospital. I need to call Carlos and Grace.”

Grace. His amazing wife, who was the whole reason he patched up his relationship with TK and had invited the younger man over on Sundays for a late dinner every week when she could. She enjoyed seeing Judd show TK how to make the food and watch him beat TK at Texas Hold ‘Em. She became like an older sister to the young firefighter. When TK finally broke the news to the team that he was a recovering addict, Grace explained to Judd that he should treat TK with respect or TK wouldn’t treat his body with respect. The more people TK had in his corner, the less he would try to use again. She was a saint and he knew she would be worried for the firefighter.

As the team ran over to the firetruck and got in, Paul started driving and Judd took a seat across from Marjan and Mateo as he grabbed his phone, now covered in dust and soot from the house collapse, and dialed his wife’s phone.

“Judd?”

“Hey sweetie. You may want to meet us at the hospital…” He started, and took the phone away from his ear as she started yelling.

“Judson Ryder, are you hurt?”

“No, but TK is and we don’t know how bad his injuries are. We’re heading to Ascension Seton Southwest now.”

“I swear that boy is going to give me gray hair and I’m only in my mid-thirties! I’ll meet you guys there.” She replied, before she hung up and Judd turned to the front of the truck.

“How close are we Paul?”

“About five minutes out.”

He went through his contacts and found the next name of the person he needed to call, and pressed ‘Call’ and waited for the patrol officer to answer his phone.

“Judd, what’s wrong?” Carlos really only spoke to Judd when there was a TK related emergency. This was definitely a TK related emergency.

“TK’s been hurt. We don’t know how bad, but he’s going to Ascension Seton Southwest. We’re meeting everyone there.”

He heard Carlos let out a string of curses, and Judd knew that even though Carlos’ relationship with TK was still just a test run, he cared deeply for him. Between TK’s suicidal tendencies and trying to be an any semblance of a relationship with someone, Carlos knew he needed to take things slow. He never wanted to push TK and he was grateful for TK for trying, no matter how slow the relationship took.

“I’ll be there shortly. My shift just ended anyway.”

“Drive safe,” he reminded the officer, knowing that Carlos would try to get to the hospital as soon as possible, speed limits and traffic lights be damned.

Beep.

The incessant beeping of the monitor woke TK up from his sleep. He opened his eyes, and groaned at the pain in his leg, before turning to see his dad next to his bed reading what looked to be 50 Shades of Gray and TK let out a laugh, although it pained him to do so.

“Why are you reading that?” He asked, surprising his father who threw the book in the air.

A pained grunt could be heard from behind him and TK strained his head to see Carlos sitting in a less comfier chair than his dad, rubbing his head where the book hit him.

“Why did you throw that?” He asked, annoyed to be woken from what seemed to be an unpleasant nap if his posture was anything to go by.

Owen turned in his chair and moved to show Carlos the bed where he could see that TK was finally awake.

“Hi,” the younger man said quietly, waving pathetically at his boyfriend. Carlos jumped out of his seat and sat at the edge of the bed and grabbed TK’s hand, rubbing his finger over his hand gently.

“Hi,” he responded back, looking at TK with so much adoration that left TK blushing and Owen feeling incredibly awkward.

Making his presence known to the two, he cleared his throat before standing.

“I’m gonna go get food. I’ll leave you two alone,” he raised his eyebrow at his son, “no funny business.”

TK, who had a bandage covering his entire left side and a cast on his left leg, laughed. “Yes, because I can really do so much.”

“I never know what you kids can do nowadays when you put your mind to it,” Owen said, walking out of the room.

TK let out an embarrassed chuckle, before looking back at Carlos.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized. His dad could be so embarrassing.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Except for giving everyone a bunch of gray hairs for having to worry so much about you,” Carlos responded, before leaning over to kiss TK on his forehead.

“Hey,” a new, but familiar voice greeted them from the doorway.

TK looked past Carlos’ head to see Judd standing there, looking uncomfortable, even at at 6’4”. The older man ducked his head through the doorway, making TK chuckle. He groaned in pain at the action, before muttering to Carlos to please get him some Tylenol for the pain. He still didn’t trust himself with the medication the hospital would give him, even with the pain he was in, so the over the counter medicine would have to do. He had briefly woken up and told them about his addiction before his surgery and the doctor had informed him that they’d have Tylenol on hand for him to take for the pain. For that, he was grateful.

Carlos kissed him on the lips quickly before leaving to get the medicine, passing Judd and looking back at his boyfriend. TK just smiled gratefully and waited for Carlos to leave before he looked at his friend.

His brother.

“Glad you’re doing alright. Cap said you’d be out for 3 months with your injury,” he said gesturing to his leg. TK frowned, but nodded.

“Yeah, stupid leg fracture won’t heal as fast as I would like apparently. Guess you’ll be happy not to have anyone annoy you at work while I’m gone,” he joked.

“Nah, I’ll miss your annoying ass while you’re out. Grace will probably feed you every day by the way, so there’s no way getting out of that. We’ll just have to bring the food and games to your house. Wonder if your old man knows Texas Hold ‘Em.” He smirked and watched TK let out a laugh.

“There’s so many things my dad can do, so it wouldn’t surprise me.” Judd chuckled, before sitting down in the empty chair next to the bed.

“You really scared me kid,” he stated, looking at TK with concern.

“Thank you for saving my life,” TK replied, putting his fist out for Judd to fist bump him back. The older man put out of his own fist and connected it to TK’s before noticing that TK was struggling to keep his eyes opened, his hand had fallen on top of his blanket.

“Not a problem brother, not a problem at all,” he responded, waiting for TK to fall asleep before he got out of his chair.

If he put the blanket up onto TK to cover him up more, no one was the wiser.

Except Carlos, who caught the entire exchange from the doorway and smirked at the kind gesture.

Judd glared at him with a playful glint in his eye, “Not a word.”

“I saw nothing,” the officer responded nonchalantly, before passing Judd as he walked back into the room and took a seat in the unoccupied chair.

Judd knew that TK would be in good hands.

He had a whole team to back him up.

#tarlos #911 lone star #my fic #tk and judd's brotherly relationship is my favorite thing so this happened

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louisapennyfeather2021 · 4 years

Text

So I see and love the Newsies/Avengers AU's, but I haven't seen a Newsies/Cloak and Dagger AU yet...

So, here's how I would do it:

Antonio "Racetrack" Higgins as Tandy Bowen/Dagger

Spencer "Specs" Samuels as Tyron Johnson/Cloak

Romeo Richardson as Evita Fusilier

Katherine Plumber as Brigid O'Reilly/Mayhem

Sarah Jacobs as Mina Hess

Oscar Delancey as Liam Walsh

Snyder as Officer Conners

Henry Copes as Billy Johnson

Summary:

Spencer and Antonio come from very different backgrounds.

Spencer has a loving home on the nicer side of New York. He has two parents who loves him no matter what. No matter what he's done, no matter who he loves, they love him. He goes to a Catholic School where he plays basketball and competes with the debate team. He has friends and family who always help him and love him. The only "down side" was the dumb nickname- Specs- that he got from his friends since he wore glasses for so long until he got contacts.

Because when he was ten years older, he watched a crooked cop known as Officer Snyder murdered his older brother.

Spencer did everything with Henry. They played basketball, they play fought each other until their parents yelled at them to calm down. But Henry wasn't completely honest with his parents. He helped sell drugs in the alleyways of New York when his parents hit a rough spot. He stole car radios and did what he could to add some more money to the bills.

One day, he brought Spencer with him. He had no one to watch his kid brother while he was sent out on a job. It was just to take a car radio, so he wasn't super concerned. Still, he was nervous. He had Spencer hold his duffel bag and hoodie while he tried breaking into the car.

Unfortunately, he didn't go unnoticed.

Henry heard the shouts of a police officer and took off. He grabbed Spencer and ran. He wasn't sure where, but somehow he ended up at a shipping dock by the Harbor. Henry hid Spencer and tried to run to create a diversion.

He was stopped, though.

The officer and his partner stopped him, his feet dangerously close to the edge of the dock. He held his hands up, knowing he had no other choice with two guns pointing at him. He agreed to go peacefully, he wouldn't fight the officers.

Then there was a loud explosion.

And then a gun shot.

Spencer was shocked into silence as Henry fell lifelessly backwards into the ocean. He hardly noticed the police officers fleeing. He rushed to the edge of the dock, hoping to maybe see his brother flailing in the water.

But he slipped.

And he fell.

He only remembers waking up alone on a beach, his hoodie missing and the only signs of other people beging the footprints and singular ballet shoe. Till this day he doesn't know why, but he took the shoe. He started walking off the beach, looking for someone. Anyone.

And then there's Antonio. He comes from a not so pleasant background.

His mother is a dying drug addict. She goes home with whatever man will take her. Their home is hardly stocked with food since she spends any money she can get from her job waitressing to buy drugs.

Antonio gave up on living with her years ago. He loves in an abandoned warehouse that's been marked for demolition for years. He jokingly calls it his "Refuge". He's better than his mom, but not by much. He doesn't buy drugs, but he doesn't turn them down. He's not opposed to drinking. He steals for extra cash to stay alive, he pickpockets. He does all of this with his boyfriend, Oscar. Oscar is older by a year, but that's fine. He helps Antonio get fake ID's, he helps Antonio get by. Oscar actually likes Antonio, it was even him who gave him his nickname- Race- because of how quick he was when stealing, but he never actually knows how Antonio feels about him despite the "I love you's".

It wasn't always like this.

Once Upon a Time, Antonio was good. He had a father, his mother was clean, he was clean. He was in ballet, he went to school, he had friends.

But then the accident happened.

His dad had picked him up from a ballet practice when he was just ten years old and they had to make a stop at his job for something, Antonio couldn't remember. He remembers his dad yelling on the phone as they drove over the Brooklyn Bridge.

Then there was an explosion.

And the car swerved.

Antonio remembers his dad being unconscious, but everything's a blur after that.

He only clearly remembers waking up on a beach the next morning next to a kid in an oversized hoodie. He can see the boy is breathing, but he carelessly takes the kid's hoodie since he's still in his ballet leotard and tights. He hardly notices that he's missing a ballet shoes as he starts walking off the beach to find someone. Anyone.

Flashforward seven years. Spencer's family is stable, to put it simply. They go through life and everything's alright, except for the longing feeling begging for disclosure. After Henry's death, he was scared into silence. The officer who he saw shoot his brother was one of the investigators in the case. He was too scared to ever say who killed Henry, worried he'd die just like his brother. He goes to school, he goes to practices, he goes home. He doesn't party at all, he's just never liked it.

One day after school, he runs into Romeo Richardson. He's known Romeo for years, they're in the same classes after all. Romeo convinces Spencer that one party won't hurt. Their basketball team had won an important game the Thursday before and it was Friday Night. Spencer decided that there was no harm in going to a party.

Romeo picked him up at his house and drove him to a secluded spot outside of New York City. Spencer actually had fun. He drank a little bit, getting kind of embarrassed when Romeo laughed at his reaction to alcohol. They talked and hung out, watching their friends make fools of themselves and laughing when a game of Drunk Chicken on a Hill fell apart. It was chilly out and Spencer was wearing his varsity letterman jacket, one Romeo had jokingly tried to borrow many times. He was wearing it when he briefly left Romeo and their friends to get another drink.

That's when he ran into him.

Antonio did what he had to do to get by. Sneaking into a rich kid's party to steal his things included. He flirted with the host, even followed him to a bedroom. Antonio looked around at all of the jewels and electronics on the room. He helped make the kid a drink.

And he laughed just a littl bit when the kid started falling asleep.

Antonio would never do anything to anyone without their consent, he'd sooner throw himself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Instead ,he started looting. Expensive jewels, autographed Playbills and baseballs. He was about to leave when he noticed some tickets laying on a bedside table. He got closer to see three tickets to a performance of Swam Lake. Part of him knew it wasn't worth it, but he also wanted to watch a recital properly just once. So he stole one and fled. Oscar didn't like ballet, so he wouldn't want to go.

Antonio quickly found Oscar's jeep and Antonio changed into more age appropriate clothes for a party he heard about. Besides, there's nothing wrong with pickpocketing a few teens at a party where they could easily pass off their drunk state for the reason their wallets are missing.

Oscar drove Antonio to the party before leaving with a chaste kiss. Antonio's warehouse hideout wasn't too far from the party location, he could walk home and he probably would've done it even if Oscar stayed.

Antonio goes into the party, smiling at drunk strangers who passed by. He scanned the crowd before spotting his target. He hurried to walk past him, making sure to bump into the boy and "accidentally" spill some of whatever's in his cup on the stranger's jacket.

That's when he meets him.

Antonio immediately apologizes for getting the drink all over Spencer's jacket. Spencer shakes him off with a partial smile. He never really liked his jacket, he just got it because it parents wanted one and it was pretty warm. Besides, Antonio had apologized and Spencer accepted it.

The two talked briefly before Antonio left with another apologetic smile. Spencer thought nothing else of it until he shoved his hand in his pocket.

The pocket that was supposed to be holding his wallet.

He panicked, checking all of his pockets before he figured it out. He whipped around to see Antonio's retreating figure. He yelled for someone to stop the boy, but his friends were too drunk or distracted. So he took off.

Antonio noticed quickly that the boy he pickpocketed had caught on and he ran. The boy was quick, but Antonio was quicker. That's what he thought at least, until the boy caught up to him near an alleyway.

Spencer reached out toe grab Antonio.

But in a flash of black and white, they were feet apart from each other on their backs. Both were delirious and confused. They sat up after a few minutes, both freaked out by the black smoke and white light around them. They argued briefly and quickly figured came to a standstill. Antonio begrudgingly gave Spencer his wallet back, although he accidentally dropped it when light flashed.

When their hands touched, black smoke covered Spencer's while white light flashed on Antonio's palm. They decided to tell no one, but to keep in touch to figure out what the heck was going on.

Antonio introduced himself as Race.

Spencer introduced himself as Specs.

And so began the frenemy story for the books. Comic books, that is.

Honestly, I feel like this AU could be great. I might come back and edit it more to give it more of a story. Eventually.

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symphonic--chaos · 5 years

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Based off of the Alternate Universe episode in Season 1. Got some Magnus/Alec personality swap and creative liberties due to lack of further detail in the episode. Also some flirting, making out and all around cuteness.

I think we all need this after the trainwreck of our hearts during tonight’s episode.

Thanks to my boo’s, @scarred-jade-dreams , @headofthenewyorkinstitute , and @britterzthecookie for being my cheerleaders. 🖤

~~~~Then~~~~

A certain level of cockiness resided in him from his self made ‘success’ in being a psychic, in letting people get starry-eyed over their love readings from his ever so faithful cards, or, if he was in a mood, startling them with something that wasn’t so pleasant just to get the seat empty. They always came crawling back anyway, junkies for their ‘future’, the lot of them. Still, it was something to keep him busy, something to keep the roof over his and the cats’ heads, and it was something he knew he was talented enough to sell. The girl who came to him, Clary, she had been the start of something new, something strange. She had given him a push into a life he’d long since put aside and almost forgotten, one that he would still hide even if he were to finally be one with it once again.

To feel the electric crackling in his fingers, the one that warmed them and urged him to do something with the powers that once lay dormant since he was a child, it was nostalgic. A piece of his childhood that he never knew how to harness and use to his will. Something he’d grown frustrated with trying to learn alone while having to hide it from his family, who surely would never understand. With this awakening, in his willingness to assist her in her quest to find someone in her dimension, he’d met him; he who was forward and handsome, seemingly cocky and so sure in his own way. 'Alec’ as he’d introduced, though as of what he’d heard up to this day, most people called him Alexander.

Alexander was a name that seemed as high class as the clothes the taller male wore the night of the party in the institute, the room void of the fashion artwork and clothes on display as the rest of the building was full of. Alexander was as sharp as the jawline Magnus’s eyes couldn’t tear from, which matched the equally fine cheekbones sitting high below stunning bright eyes that contrasted the styled black hair atop his head. Wit came from a smirking mouth, which spouted flirty words that he never expected, leaving him sputtering and wondering if he realized who he was speaking to. A no one, just him, Magnus Bane, the psychic of Brooklyn. The psychic that had spotted Clary and left behind the man that truly belonged in the institute rather than a law office, a piece of artwork that he’d never seen in anyone else in his 27 years. Alexander was perfect and he knew it.

Fast forward to a Tuesday months later, they found themselves in the same vicinity again, and Alec decided that Magnus’s way home would also be his own, tagging along to grab a train once they arrived. Those plans diverted as Magnus had, rather slowly, asked him if he wanted to come up for tea or coffee, shooing the two meowing cats away from the door as he let them in. It seemed Alexander– no, Alec, didn’t lose his flirty nature towards him, and Magnus certainly became no less flustered towards it, only amplifying as the other scrawled his number on Magnus’s palm, closing his fingers over it.

“Wait, wait! This is a fountain pen…” He had called after Alec as he started leaving, opening his hand to show the smudged number.

It was a needed laugh between the two to break the small nervous tension that had come between them, the number instead written on his arm despite the offer of a notepad. It was a number he’d stared at for a long moment even as the door shut behind Alec, only to be startled out of it moments later as a knock had interrupted the silence. The unexpected kiss that was planted on his lips once he opened the door had him both shocked and pleased- Alec’s lips felt just as nice as they looked. He knew he’d stared at them too much while they spoke for that hour or more before, the same way he noticed Alec had been looking at his own when he had found himself flirting back, both giving away their thoughts though neither acted on it. It had been his first kiss, his first real kiss, considering he hadn’t found anyone interesting enough to date, much less kiss, and he wasn’t into meaningless mingling. This was likely the cause of the kiss, as he could still see Alec’s shocked face in his mind from when he’d told him during a vague discussion they’d had about relationships, how Magnus said everyone was probably fawning all over Alec.

Just like that it was over and Alec was giving that award winning smile, retreating as he reminded him to call. Magnus’s reaction, naturally, was to smile stupidly as he shut the door, standing there in thought and still a little high from the endorphins and adrenaline that kiss gave him. As he turned, the keys on the kitchen island caught his attention, he knew for a fact they weren’t his, and he could also recall Alec’s jacket there during the time they spent together. The number on his arm was quickly dialed and, despite knowing just who would pick up, he still felt breathless as he heard Alec’s amused voice pick up, though that amusement dropped once he heard that his keys weren’t in his possession. “I’m halfway to the station, hold on.”

Instead of waiting, Magnus was already out the door and headed down the stairs with the keys in his hand, the front door pushed open with ease as he headed towards the station. A short walk from his apartment, something he had loved about it due to the ease of transport, it didn’t take him long to spot Alexander and hand him the keys. Their hands had lingered, his fingertips brushing Alec’s palm while the others were touching the soft underside of his wrist. It was like that familiar spark all over again, the electricity produced by his abilities was instead given by the man in front of him and, just like his urge to do something with that power, he felt the urge to do something about their spark. He moved in and kissed him.

Alec didn’t go home that night, his bed instead replaced by the bed in Magnus’s guest room after a night of more talking, learning about each other, and more importantly, those addictive kisses. But what was most important of it all was the date planned for later that week, something that had him more excited and nervous than he’d been in a long, long while. Something discussed after they’d met up in the kitchen over the breakfast Magnus had whipped up, finding it strange to be cooking for two rather than himself.

“Friday night, 7:30. I’ll be here at exactly then, I’ll pick you up.”

~~~~Now~~~~

The car clock read 12:57am and Magnus was nearly squirming of excitement in the driver’s seat as he steered towards Alec’s parents home, loving every second of driving the car that cost more than a couple years rent for him. He had nearly choked on his drink when finding out it had been an early college graduation present, which Alec was set to finish in May- perks of well paid parents who loved their hard-working son. Still, he was honored that the other had trusted him enough to drive it and have fun in the busy, crowded streets of Manhattan. Their stop at the house was quick and near silent, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been snuck in, so that Robert didn’t hear that his rules of ’none of your girls or boys in your room under my roof’ were broken, despite his son being almost in his mid-20’s. Maryse was even there, giving a small wave and a mouthed 'Hi!’ from her doorway.

Unbeknownst to him, she’d seen him there on Thursday morning at 2am, when he’d shown up suddenly at the doorstep and saying he couldn’t sleep and Alec was the only person left he could think turn to. Catarina was at work and his other friend, Dot, was traveling to see family. A shy smile was given as he lifted a hand in a small wave, clearly embarrassed by being seen sneaking around with her son when they weren’t even an item, and also before he’d even really been introduced to her. Magnus waited patiently against the wall of Alec’s room, staying out of his way as he moved around to collect an overnight bag, trying to be more prepared than he had been Tuesday when he had to wear Magnus’s too small clothes to bed. As quickly as they had gone in, they were back out and in the car, headed to Brooklyn where Magnus’s cats were surely throwing a party, assuming he wouldn’t be home. At least that’s what he liked to joke about whenever he was gone past midnight.

I like my coffee in the morning, I like my whiskey in the evening, yeah. I like it when you say you miss me- Maybe it’s because I’m really needy, yeah.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car. I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

The song on the radio was catchy and cute, upbeat and a nice change from the slow melodic music that the previous DJ had been playing, it succeeded in getting Magnus’s fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel and he swore he felt a light tapping on his thigh where Alec’s hand rested. It made him think as he focused on the road, they hadn’t kissed since that Tuesday night. Something had come over him, something that made him want to test if this was really just some fling that Alec was looking for despite his assurance that he really wanted a true date.

“No, no more kisses. Not until after our date on Friday.” Ringed and painted fingers gently rested on Alec’s lips, which were just mere inches away from his own, sufficiently blocking the pairs from touching.

“But–” The other had started in the faintest of whines.

“No, none!” Magnus had laughed, instead pressing a kiss to the back of his fingertips as if that would satisfy Alec.

Magnus glanced over just briefly at Alec, his date watching the scenery around them as they passed and looking rather nonchalant about the way Magnus zipped through the streets at a speed a tad higher than permitted. He could see how post-date he’d become more relaxed, the red blazer jacket open wide and the first few buttons of the red and white checked shirt had been undone, untucked from the blue jeans he wore. He watched as Alec’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip and he could only wonder if he was thinking the same thing. Just as those days had been torture on Alec, they had surprisingly been the same for him. While he didn’t care for or dabble in drugs, it seems he did now when it came to an addiction of not getting enough of the others lips. How worrisome, he’d thought.

I like it when you say you want me, I don’t mind it when you say you need me now. Scares me to think about the future, I don’t like to picture it without you there.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car. I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

As they neared his apartment building, he realized that Alec wasn’t tapping on his thigh anymore, rather, he’d started faintly squeezing it along with the lyrics to the chorus. It was almost endearing, and due to this realization it only took him a short moment before he would take action. A look in the rearview told him that no one was behind him and a park to their right, he pulled over swiftly and earned a confused noise from the passenger seat and an equally questioning look from Alec. The car was just barely thrown into park before he turned in his seat, taking Alec’s face between his warm hands and pulling him into the kiss he knew they’d both been craving.

It was almost as if Alec had caught on quickly the minute Magnus’s hands were on his face and Magnus was thrilled when he was met over the center console, saving him any embarrassment of launching himself over it. The kiss was a mixture of hungry and greedy, his mind racing over the way Alec’s hands snaked their way up, one curling around the back of Magnus’s neck and the other cupping the arm that rested on the console as if to hold him steady, solidify his place there. It was a kiss that said ’this is mine’ on both sides, yet one that told Magnus that he wasn’t being played as he thought, that Alec’s intentions were true. Magnus’s breath escaped short and hot as the kiss deepened, feeling the warm, damp swipe of Alec’s tongue over his bottom lip, only to be followed by the blunt edges of his teeth, tugging, teasing… but just as before when sneaking out of the house, it was over as quick as it began. Still, their lips lingered, barely touching, and a smile formed on both as Alec rested their foreheads together.

“Let’s… Finish that kiss at my place.” Magnus said once he’d cleared his throat, forcing out the words as all his resistance was used to hold back. This was his, finally. Someone who caught his interest, who chased and let him play coy and make him work for it; someone who did just the same and gave Magnus a thrill. This was his Alec, and he was no longer Magnus Bane the psychic of Brooklyn, he was his Magnus. Alec’s Magnus.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

#malec #1x10 #magnus bane #alec lightwood #grammar may be trash #be nice #my fics

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faithfulcat111 · 6 years

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38 Minutes

AKA: My College Admission Essay That I Rewrote in a Fit of Rage After College This Afternoon

Word Count: 918 words

Original Essay Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. Limit 500 words (obviously I’m no longer following the word limit)

TW: Natural disaster, graphic description of tornado and tornado damage, death mention, injuries, ptsd, author is very angry,

Screeching winds, howling rain, the impact of things hitting you from all sides. Not being able to look up in fear. Choking on the water rushing in beneath as you crouch. Screaming and you don’t know if it from your little sister, the man two aisles over, or someone else ten feet above. The feeling of being trapped underneath several people, but knowing in the back of your mind that if they weren’t there, you wouldn’t be either. The most terrifying moments of my life lasted for only 22 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. This is my experience of being in an F-5 tornado.

It had started out as a normal day. There was church that morning. My best friend turned thirteen and we joked about how she was going to avoid any water disasters this time around. We played outside under blue skies and fluffy white clouds. I laughed as she wore her birthday sombrero and blew out her candles. We were excited because teenagedom was upon us and summer was just two weeks away. Looking back at the pictures, I can hardly believe that it was the same day.

Later, I went shopping with my dad and little sister at a local Wal-Mart. My dad noticed the storm rolling in and kept the radio low. We heard the sirens start to go off as we crossed the parking lot. Inside, it was business as normal. People were grumbling, but a tornado never hit Joplin. Everyone was sure we’d be fine.

My dad was tense. He abandoned our shopping in the bakery and convinced my grandma, who worked there, and her coworker to come to the back of the store for shelter. Only about half of the shoppers took shelter in the bathrooms and toy aisles. We called my mother, who had chosen to stay home and chatted while she tried to find a tv or radio station that was working. We could hear howling winds outside. Then the moment came. My dad’s phone cut out with the lights. I have never heard the world so quiet. We heard a man shout out to get down. Then everything changed.

When the rain and winds finally stopped and we dared to peek up, I saw grey skies. The roof was gone. As was most of the aisles, the merchandise, and one-third of my town. We got lucky. An aisle had collapsed on my dad, but only his foot was sprained. When we finally climbed out, as the entire middle of the building had collapsed in, we discovered our car had been turned into a convertible. I saw my first dead body that day. I didn’t find out that she was gone until a few months later and that that is why her husband wouldn’t let my father help pull her out.

We had to get a ride in a police van. We couldn’t reach my mother or my grandfather at their separate houses. My dad listened to the radio and discovered just how extensive the damage was when the fourth emergency centre was opened. My family, including my grandma, made it to one just six blocks from my house. It took nearly an hour to make the formerly ten-minute drive. When we got home at eight, my dad got into his truck and immediately headed out to find my grandfather. My grandmother quietly told my mom what happened while I sat on the front porch with my sister, both of us wearing our borrowed rain jackets from that Wal-Mart. We didn’t think they would be missed.

The whole time my dad was gone, we couldn’t reach him. We couldn’t reach anybody. The radio signal was shaky at best. The sun came out again briefly. My dad finally made it home with my grandfather, their two dogs, and a small suitcase of clothes they salvaged at midnight. My grandparents had no home or car.

The official death count for May 22nd in Joplin remains at 158 people, although a number of people were never found. Our community was destroyed, despite many positive rebuilding stories coming out from city officials. Many good people left, unable to handle everything. Volunteers poured out, but they came too quick. The houses they built up as fast as possible to try and replace the 7000 destroyed ones are already having problems eight years later. The free materials attracted the drug addicts and gamblers to a community that already was having a growing problem. I saw more than one church torn apart by how they should handle rebuilding efforts. And before the people could fully recover, the volunteers were gone.

I have PTSD now. I didn’t know that it was triggered by these storm systems until the next year when those sirens went off for the first time. I hate it when it rains in the spring and I hate going to a large part of my town because the trees are still gone. I also learned that the recovery of a community takes time. We may seem rebuilt with these new houses and memorials. The Wal-Mart I was in has been replaced just like the Pizza Hut, the high school, and the hospital. But the people haven’t been. The community hasn’t been. There is no real good way to end this. Mainly because this story is still in progress. But one thing I have learned is that nothing is certain on Earth except the fact that nothing is certain.

#faith writes #a college admission essay that i reread today #hated #and instantly rewrote #instead of doing anything else #ptsd #natural disasters #tornadoes #death mention

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our-smooty · 6 years

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Take Me to Church - Chapter 22: Expectations

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

1 Week Later - The First Session - Murdoc

“So uh, yeah. Guess that’s about it.”

The therapist in front of him was still writing. She’d been diligently taking notes through his entire abridged personal history, jotting down each and every high and low point. So far therapy was nothing like he thought it would be.

“OK… so you said you’ve had mental health treatment before?” she asked after a moment. Murdoc nodded.

“The other times were all in prison though, if that makes any difference, luv,” he answered. She looked up at him and smiled. He resisted the urge to look away.

“I assure you, Murdoc, that you’ll find my methods to be significantly different from those in most correctional facilities,” she told him. He tried not to look too relieved. “I’d like to begin by asking you what you want to get out of therapy.”

He paused. What did she want him to say? “I assume you heard all that from 2D already.”

“But I’d like to hear what you want Murdoc, not what Stuart wants,” she shot back with a grin. Murdoc laughed dryly. Where had 2D found this one, then?

“What I want is a bottle of--” His therapist shot him a withering look, and he sobered up. “Fine. I uh, I jus’ want to be… Less of a prick?”

He watched her write down “less of a prick” with a sort of cognitive dissonance. “Anything else?”

“I’ve got--” his voice was shaky and quick like if he didn’t hurry and spit the words out he’d never do it. “I’ve got stuff, in my head. I-I’d like to get a handle on that.”

“What kind of stuff, Murdoc?” she asked, still writing. Fucking hell this therapy thing was going to be harder than he thought, wasn’t it?

“Sometimes I do things, and I don’t really know why. O-or I’ll be feelin’ a certain way for no reason.”

“And you’d like to understand that?” she finished for him. Murdoc nodded again, not making eye contact. His nails found purchase in the soft material of the armchair while his knees bounced. The room felt warm and his skin felt too tight. “Alright. Those are both great goals, and they’ll help me tailor your treatment appropriately.”

He grunted in response. The room was quiet again before she put down her pen and faced him directly. “I want you to know, Murdoc, that it’s very brave of you to seek therapy for your problems.”

He scoffed. “Only took a few decades.”

“What matters is you’re here now, and we can begin to work on things together.” She handed him a booklet from her desk. “I want you to take this, and read it over before our next meeting.”

The booklet was thin, with a cover full of smiling people. The title read, “PTSD: Signs and Treatment.” Murdoc swallowed hard.

“I also want to go over a few grounding techniques with you today, before our session ends. Does that sound alright?” He was still staring down at the booklet, hands trembling slightly. With great difficulty, he nodded and sat up straighter. He could this, he had to.

Thirty minutes and a great deal of deep breathing later, Murdoc was walking out of the office. He paid the lady at the desk and set up another appointment for a week later at his therapist's suggestion. Every movement he made felt far away and floaty. Kind of like being drunk without the warm sense of security.

His daze was broken when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Suddenly he realized he was outside the doctor's office building, smoking a cigarette he had no memory of lighting. Checking the text, he was unsurprised to see it was 2D.

im in the car outside

text me when ur done

I got coffee

Murdoc knew 2D was nervous about the first session. He’d already seen their therapist last week, but this was the first time Murdoc had gone. After a few sessions alone, they’d agreed to have one together, the cycle repeating indefinitely. Or until they didn’t need to see the therapist anymore, though Murdoc wasn’t hopeful that’d be any time soon.

Honestly, the bassist had wanted to drive himself to the appointment. It’d give him time to himself to process the session figure out how he felt about everything they talked about. But Stuart had insisted on driving Murdoc there and picking him up like a chauffeur. He was probably afraid Murdoc would flake out and just not show up.

I’m done.

He sent the text to 2D and took a seat on the curb. Lighting another fag and taking a deep, calming drag, Murdoc tried to center himself. He hadn’t had to go over all (or most, at least) of the nitty-gritty details of his life in a long time, maybe ever. It set him on edge, knowing the things he told an almost complete stranger, willingly.

By the time he finished his smoke, 2D was pulling into the parking lot. It didn’t take very long and Murdoc had the sneaking suspicion that the singer hadn’t even gone all the way home. He didn’t feel like making a scene though. To be honest, he was mostly just tired. When Stu stopped in front of him he quickly got in, sinking down in the seat with a sigh.

“Alright?” Stu asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Your coffee’s in front.”

Murdoc grabbed his drink with a thankful nod. “Thanks.”

The car was quiet for a moment before 2D spoke again. “So, how did it go?”

“Fine.” Murdoc really, really didn’t feel up to talking about his session now. Not even the coffee could hold off the exhaustion that was slowly settling over him.

Again, there was a pause. 2D’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel in nervous patterns. Murdoc tried to ignore it.

“Are you sure?” Satan, the singer wasn’t going to give up, was he? Murdoc sighed, realizing he wasn’t being fair to the younger man. 2D was a worrier, it was one of the things that made him so charming.

“It was fine, D. I’m just… tired now,” he answered. Stu visibly relaxed and shot Murdoc an understanding smile. It didn’t make Murdoc feel sick, so he took that as a sign the therapy was working.

“I get it, Muds. Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when we get home?” The relief he felt was definitely a little embarrassing, but he was too worn out to care. Instead and turned on his side towards the window and shut his eyes. In the background, he could hear the soft sounds of the radio show 2D had on, and the rumbling of the tired against the tarmac. It wasn’t ideal for sleeping, but for once exhaustion was working in his favour, and he quickly nodded off against the stained seat.

2D drove them home with no problem. He’d worked as a driving instructor after all. At the very least his track record was better than Murdoc’s, and he was glad the bassist hadn’t insisted on driving them.

His eyes briefly glanced over to his sleeping partner. Murdoc had looked so drained when he first got in the car that Stu had been worried. But his therapist had asked him to work on avoiding quizzing the bassist on his every move. He knew that it wasn’t helpful and that half the time Murdoc didn’t know why he did what he did, but he was just so scared the older man would do something stupid, or get hurt, or--

He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel. That was another thing he needed to get a handle on. Because of his less than stellar past experiences with Murdoc, he tended to disasterize everything he was involved in. It was hard to stop himself, but if he was going to date the bassist, he had to try.

They pulled into the driveway of Wobble Street around 10 minutes later. 2D was feeling a lot calmer, the simple task of driving along familiar roads helped to wind down his brain. Murdoc was still sleeping, hunched up and drooling a little. Honestly, if it wasn’t freezing outside, he would have left Murdoc to sleep. But he didn’t want his boyfriend to freeze, so he carefully reached over and brushed his fingers through the other’s hair.

“We’re here, love,” he murmured, running the tips of his fingers down the angle of Murdoc’s cheek and jaw. The bassist scrunched his nose in irritation but still leaned into the touch. “Come’on, let’s get inside before my fuckin’ knob freezes off.”

Murdoc chuckled a little at that. “Don’t be crass.”

“Mmm I’ll show you crass later if you’re lucky,” 2D teased, getting out of the car himself and unlocking the front door. Murdoc was close behind.

“Hurry up, Stu. I need a drink,” the bassist griped. When they got inside he headed straight for the kitchen and the liquor cabinet. Stu wanted to be mad, but he knew Murdoc was struggling to cope the only way he knew how. Not that the singer could judge him, he’d finally been confronted with the reality of his pain-pill addiction when he ran out last week. With everything going on he’d allowed all his prescriptions to lapse. Luckily Murdoc was still able to write prescriptions with his degree and get the singer some before he went into withdrawal.

“Don’t spoil your dinner, Muds. Russel said he was going to make that mac and cheese recipe he found the other day.”

Murdoc ignored him, instead pulling out a bottle of dark liquor and a cup. To Stu’s surprise, he poured himself a glass and set the bottle back on the shelf. He raised his glass to 2D and took a sip, eyes falling shut.

“Ahh, that’s the stuff. Good year, this is.” He swirled it around in the glass, focusing on the light glinting off the alcohol. “Did you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

It was hard not to smile at his obviousness. “No, I don’t have any plans.” 2D watched as Murdoc slowly looked up to meet his eyes, a nearly invisible smile on his lips.

“D’you want to uh, watch TV, or somthin’?”

The Second Session - Murdoc

“... I don’t know why I did it.”

His therapist--he knew her name, but he felt weird using it--waited for him to continue. “I didn’t buy the place with the intention of everythin’ going so wrong.”

“Then why did you buy Plastic Beach, Murdoc?”

The Satanist thought back through the haze of alcohol and mental instability. “Well, it was the furthest place on Earth from anywhere else. Figured I could get some peace and quiet, after the uh, incident with Noodle.”

She jotted a few things down, going over the thing’s he’d told her before. “But you made yourself a companion, and you brought Stuart there.”

“The Cyborg doesn’t count. It couldn’t even talk, really. And I don’t rightly know how 2D got there,” he admitted. “Maybe it was me who kidnapped him, maybe it wasn’t. If I did, I don’t know how or why.”

“How long did you spend alone on the island?” Murdoc had a feeling she was leading him somewhere.

“6 months,” he answered quietly. They’d been 6 of the worst month of his life. At first, he’d been fine on his own, hosting his radio show, sprucing up the island. But slowly, surely, the guilt over El Manyana had eaten away at his mind until there was nearly nothing left.

“That’s a very long time to be alone, Murdoc. It must have been hard.”

He was getting worked up. There was tension in his shoulder and a sort of tingling in his fingers that meant he was holding on to the arms of the chair too tightly. Small things he wouldn’t have noticed before his therapist started pointing them out. Knowing the signs made it easier for him to head off his panic and calm down.

“It was,” he said after a deep breath. “It was jus’ me and my thoughts. I think I went a little mad, to be honest.”

“You had been through a traumatic experience and were experiencing the symptoms of PTSD, Murdoc. Those things were out of your control.” Except they weren’t. He’d caused the whole El Manyana thing without a doubt. His signature was on all the preplanning paperwork for the shoot.

“It was me who put her on that blasted flying island. It was me who put her in danger in the first place.”

“Have you ever asked Noodle how she feels about it?” Murdoc thought back. There hadn’t really been any time after the raid on Plastic Beach, and then they’d split up again. When they all got together at Wobble Street he’d started isolating himself in his room and avoided talking to anyone.

“No. Probably never really apologized either.” She nodded and waited again. Murdoc knew she wanted him to say more.

“You could go visit her. 2D said that he and Russel go quite often.” She already knew he hadn’t been going to visit Noodle, and what had happened the last time he’d tried.

“You know why I can’t.”

Their session was nearly over, and unease was starting to set in. Every week at the end she’d give him something to work on, and report back with the next week. The first time, it had been breathing, the second had been letting 2D know how he was feeling. He had an idea of what this week's might be.

“Why don’t you try writing her a note, and having one of the other’s delivering it to her. I know Stuart said she’s recovered enough to be interacting with her cellphone again,” she suggested. Instantly he paled and began to sweat.

“I-I don’t know what I’d say…” he stuttered. His therapist nodded as if she’d expected his response.

“You don’t have to start off with the big stuff. Why not tell her about your day, or what you want to do when she comes home?”

It sounded impossibly terrifying. But he’d try. Maybe Stu could help him write it up, the idiot was always good with writing sappy shite.

“Fine. I’ll g-give it a go. No promises though,” he added as an afterthought. She smiled knowingly.

“Trying is all I ask Murdoc. It looks like our time is up, however. I’ll see you next week then.”

He left the session feeling strange. In some ways, he was hopeful that he might be able to repair his relationship with Noodle and begin to process of getting better--whatever that meant. But in other ways, he was nearly paralyzed with the fear that that was impossible. Murdoc could feel himself begin to shake as he left the office. Not even the cool air could snap him out of it.

Come get me

All he could think about was getting somewhere safe where he could break down in private. With shaky hands he lit a smoke and practically inhaled it. In just a few moments it was down to the filter and he pulled it from his lips, watching the cherry die. In a split second action, he ground the ember against his other wrist. The burning centred him.

“Murdoc!” The twangy voice of his singer startled him out of his daze. Murdoc immediately dropped the butt and tamped it out. 2D was smiling at him from the driver's side and Murdoc was infinitely grateful that the singer hadn’t seen what he’d just done. Pulling his sleeve over burn he stalked over to the passenger side and got in.

“You’re shakin’ Muds,” the other said. 2D put the car in park and pulled the handbrake, twisting to face the bassist. Murdoc clenched his teeth to prevent himself from snapping at the singer to just drive. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

If he started talking about it he knew he’d start crying. And he really didn’t feel like crying in a parking lot in the middle of London. “Can we jus'... go home?”

2D shrugged. Murdoc focused on the way the seat felt against his back and how the heated air pumping from the dash was drying out his skin. It was hard to pull himself into the moment, to keep centred in the here and now instead of wallowing in the past. Memories of all the shitty things he had to make up for were piling up against his internal dam, nearly breaking through. Just as he felt himself slipping under the surface, 2D reached out and put his hand on Murdoc’s knee.

“We’ll be home soon,” he said with a reassuring smile. Murdoc covered the hand with his own and squeezed. He was here, he was with 2D, he was trying.

He was trying.

The Third Session - Murdoc

“--and I don’t bloody know what he expects! I told him! I told him to give me time and he--”

Murdoc was ranting as he paced back and forth in front of his therapist. He was completely incensed, beyond reason with anger and frustration. He did everything he was supposed to! The letter to Noodle took him hours to write--and tens of different version to get right--and that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that he had to give it to 2D to give to Noodle, then wait for a reply. The entire process had been nearly too much for the bassist, but he’d done it.

And that sodding idiot Stuart had the nerve to tell him he wasn’t trying hard enough. That he wasn’t making progress.

“I-I though’ I was doin’ everythin’ he wanted me to!” he shouted, grabbing his hair and tugging as he paced. His therapist had been quiet from the moment he stepped into the office, letting him scream and vent as much as he needed to. She knew he’d run out of steam eventually, Murdoc’s anger was shallow but fierce when I came to his partner.

“Murdoc, could you try some of those breathing exercises we’ve been practising?” she asked gently. Until she pointed it out he hadn’t realized that he was wheezing, his chest tight with stress. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, Murdoc took a deep breath in through his mouth, then exhaled.

“Thank you. Now, could you tell me what exactly, 2D said that made you feel like his?”

Murdoc was still angry, his fists clenched tight enough that his nails were biting into his palm. He took a few more seconds, then sat in the chair opposite. “He’s been at me all week. ‘Oh Murdoc, yer drinkin’ too much!��, and ‘oi Muds, yew neva’ tell me how yer doin’!’,” he said, doing an impression of 2D.

“But I have been tellin’ him how I’m feelin’!” he continued. By now he was curled forward on the edge of his chair, fingers knitted behind his neck.

“Did you tell him that you felt that way?” she asked. Somehow it always felt like she was one step ahead of him, leading him to his own conclusions.

“I tried, at first. I don’t think he believed me when I said I was ‘fine’. But I really was!” He really had been doing alright a few times this week. But every time he answered that way, 2D would frown a little, like he thought the bassist was lying.

“And I’ll admit,” he said slowly, “I have been drinkin’ about the same as I always have. But I wasn’t passed out in the livin’ room or nothin’. But there he was every time I took a drink, frownin’ and grumblin’.”

“Thank you for being honest about your alcohol consumption, Murdoc,” his therapist said as he caught his breath again. Every time he got going the anger and anxiety would ramp up again, strangling him. “Can you explain how 2D’s actions made you feel?”

A brief pause. “He made me feel… I felt ignored. A-and like he was treatin’ me like I’m some fragile fuckin--gah!”

He jumped up to his feet again, restarting his journey from wall to wall. “I don’t soddin’ need his pity. Pity never got me anywhere, didn’t put food on the table or stop all those peop--” There were tears running down his face now, without his permission. He wiped them angrily. This wasn’t the first time he’d cried during a session, but it never got less humiliating.

“I am t-tryin’, I am,” he said, his voice choked. “He makes me f-feel like I’m n-not doin’ well enough. Like I’m never enough.”

“Can you focus on that?” she cut in. “Focus on where that feeling is coming from?”

He tried, he really did. But there wasn’t just one specific cause. There had never been a point in his life where he didn’t feel inadequate, didn’t feel like he wasn’t meeting expectations. Whose expectations? Murdoc had no idea. He overcompensated with a loud and abrasive personality to cover up the insecurities underneath. It was easy to see why, after years of struggling with these feelings, it’s been so easy for 2D’s concern to drive him to the breaking point.

And he knew 2D cared about him, he really did. He didn't think the poor sod had it in him to lie about something like that. But he was so scared that if he didn't meet 2D's expectations 100% of the time, the singer would realize what a waste of time being with someone like Murdoc was. Fuck, he realized, he'd done it again.

“I-I--” he stuttered, running a hand down his face. “Fuck. I-I have to apologize to Stu.”

“For what?”

Murdoc was already grabbing his coat and throwing it on. “I was blamin’ him for somethin’ that wasn’t all his fault, as usual.” He had a hand on the door when he turned back to his therapist, still sitting in her chair.

“Uh, same time next week?” he asked. She nodded with a slight smile and waved him out. Murdoc left the session feeling like he’d had some sort of breakthrough, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.

#takemetochurchfic #2doc #niccalpot #tw self harm #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL

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hopeishappinessff · 6 years

Text

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 51.2

Hope

I hadn’t expected Chris to plan a maternity shoot for me and I certainly hadn’t expected it to go as perfectly as it did. I was in complete bliss the entire way home and apparently, he was in some type of blissful world all his own. His right hand found a home just above my knee, then eventually it crept along to my thigh and remained there until we made it to my aunt’s house. And I would be an oblivious fool to say I didn’t notice his lack of discretion during the shoot. His hands roamed, noticeably so, as did his lips… which was completely unexpected. I wasn’t sure what was going on with him and his hormones, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain. Instead, I sat quietly in the passenger seat tinkering with the back of his fingers, smiling bashfully like a fool.

“Hey,” He muttered, snatching my attention from the greenery along the sides of the road… and the feeling of his warm hand squeezing my thigh, “What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on my thigh…” I mumbled, absolutely by accident. I could feel the warmth rushing to my cheeks before I turned to face him, so I simply dropped my head and shut my eyes with embarrassment. I could hear him chuckling softly, sexily, and I swore I could feel the heat rising even higher to the tips of my ears.

“I’m sorry…” He said after a moment as he hesitantly slithered his hand away. Reflexively I reached out and caught his hand, stopping him before he could totally eliminate the addictive sensation.

“I never said I didn’t like it.” My voice was left in some weak and timid little whisper, because I wasn’t prepared for all this intimacy. And I certainly wasn’t expecting him to drop his hand back down onto my thigh only this time… it was even higher than before. Sucking in a deep breath, I watched from the corner of my eye as he glanced at his hand placement, almost intrigued by it. Neither of us uttered another word and we silently agreed to let the radio do all the talking for us… which it did… through the voice of Jacquees, as he sang about touching some girls legs and thighs.

The unmistakable throbbing between my thighs… was there. I felt an uncomfortable puddle forming beneath me and I squirmed to adjust to it, smashing his hand between my thighs in the process. I hadn’t even realized it was still there… until he moved it as far up as it would go. My next breath got caught near the back of my throat and my lips parted with surprise as I started down at his hand, not nearly prepared for the pressure he applied directly to my center.

“Do you want me to stop?” The sound of his voice caught me completely off guard. It was deep, raspy, and coated with lust… my God, what was happening? Like a fool I stared at his hand, too stunned to do anything more than blink rapidly as the sound of his seductive question replayed in my mind. This wasn’t happening. This was only a dream… a fantasy. It wasn’t real… it couldn’t be. This abrupt confidence and intimacy wasn’t like him, so I was convinced that this wasn’t real at all.

This new unexpected sound, the sound of the sexiest chuckle I’d ever heard, broke me out of my intense daze, and I turned to face him just as he pulled his hand back from my barely parted thighs with a shake of his head. I stared hard at the side of his face… he knew what he was doing. He refused to even glance at me and he kept his focus on the road as if I wasn’t even in the car. His jaw clenched in a way that I loved and after a while, his tongue swept out over his partially moist bottom lip. Through my peripheral I could see him shift his hips in the seat and only then did I glance down at his lap. The sight of the obvious bulge in his shorts had me whipping my head hard to the right where I then decided to concentrate on any and everything we passed on the road because I just couldn’t take his entire presence anymore.

All too quickly, we were pulling into my aunt’s driveway. We took my car today because it was still early and Ms. Joyce was at work. I was almost afraid to turn to face him, let alone exit the car with him. Because we’d been stuck at the hip since the day I got home, I had high doubts that we would part ways now… and the thought alone scared me.

“Is your aunt home?” He asked softly after a full awkward minute of silence. He wouldn’t know, of course, because her car was normally parked in the garage, but I did… and Lord did I want to keep that answer to myself. I was anxious to find out what his plans were if I said that she wasn’t… because clearly, he had something up his sleeve.

“No…”

I could feel his eyes piercing the side of my face, which I could feel warming by the second. Ignoring the thick layer of a certain kind of tension that’d suddenly masked the interior of the car, I quickly shifted my door open and with a soft grunt, made my way out into the cloudy and humid atmosphere. We’d been teased with light drizzle and mist since the start of the week and it was clear that the thick, dark clouds were just itching to release some moisture. To me, it looked like a perfect day for a nap. To Chris, however… I supposed it was the perfect day to tap into his suppressed sexual urges.

He wasn’t far behind me as I waddled my way up the remainder of the driveway to the front porch. His presence was dangerously close… so close that I could feel the warmth of his aura alone against my entire back… I shut my eyes briefly to hold back a shiver.

Somehow I managed to get the door unlocked and open with my fidgeting hands. This boy truly had my nerves all over the place today. Taking a step inside, I turned to face him only when I noticed that he was no longer right behind me, but instead frozen in place there on the porch.

“Uh, I’m gonna run home for a few. I feel kind of dirty in these wet clothes.” He chuckled nervously as he glanced down at himself. With a quick nod of my head, I held onto the side of the screen door and waited until he hesitantly turned to make his way down off the porch. I tried not to stare, I really did but I couldn’t help myself… that bulge, was still there.

Nothing felt better than the fresh feeling right after a hot shower. My skin felt like silk as my hands glided all over with a warm handful of oil. I’d gone from oiling down my belly and hips after every shower to applying it all over because it felt just that good. My hair was still damp from a deep conditioning and oil treatment. It had indeed been submersed in that lake and though the water was absolutely glistening and beautiful, I knew I needed to give it a good wash to rid it of any debris.

As I stood in front of my foggy bathroom mirror in a sports bra and a pair of comfy cotton boy shorts, I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting to what’d happened in the car on the ride home. Or better yet… what’d happened in the water during the photo shoot.

Chris was more like… himself, than ever. It shocked me really, his frisky behavior and lack of discretion about it. Where was it all coming from? What had triggered him in a way that he suddenly remembered just how much of a sexual creature he was? Was I complaining… absolutely not. I just couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by it all and the thought of his tongue dancing so effortlessly against mine and his fingers pressed against one of my most sensitive spots left me battling those infamous dancing butterflies. Here I was almost a full blown eighth months pregnant, yet completely flustered like a teenage virgin… I grinned and shook my head at the thought.

My merriment only lasted so long before those very butterflies hopped into their ritual dance at the sound of a knock against my bedroom door. I still had the bathroom door shut because I wasn’t ready to give up the warmth from my shower, but now I was almost ready to lock the door because I was not ready to face Chris again. I’d failed to pay attention to the time, as my phone was charging in my room, and I completely failed to remember that there was no way he was going to stay away from me for too long.

I didn’t bother to open my mouth to say anything to him, because he’d already taken it upon himself to enter the room… I could tell that only by the sound of the door shutting quietly behind him. I was so still and silent in the bathroom though, that I don’t think I was supposed to hear the additional sound of that lock discreetly turning…

Eventually he turned on the TV and like a dazed fool, I stood there wide eyed with my stare glued to the door as if he could see me. It shouldn’t have been this way… I shouldn’t have been as nervous as I was with him being so close, but the problem was… I was. I could recognize the sound of his beloved Ninja Turtles anywhere and that was the one thing to snap me out of it and actually put a smile on my face. But then I thought… how do I walk out of this bathroom in only a bra and panties that left nothing to the imagination? My heart raced again, until I zoned in on my large, plush towel on the rack just outside the shower.

After an extra seven minutes of just standing there, attempting to get my nerves on track, I released a deep sigh and turned to reach for the handle of the door. I turned the knob slowly, coaching myself into calming down. It was only Chris… my Charlie, there was no reason for me to be as nervous as I was… but I was!

My nerves settled almost immediately when I glanced out into the room and spotted him sitting the wrong way in my swivel desk chair. He had the back of it facing the TV and his legs were spread wide on either side of it. His back was hunched as he leaned down to balance his crossed arms against the top of the back of the chair and from the side view of his handsome face, I could tell that his brows were furrowed with concentration. He didn’t even hear the sound of the bathroom door opening, he was just that focused. I giggled softly to myself and edged a bit further into the room, only then managing to catch his attention. His brows raised suddenly with surprise as he peered up at me, but he quickly smiled and swiveled the chair around just enough to fully face me.

“Hey.” I full out laughed at the chipper tone of his voice and made my way over to my chest of drawers to hunt for an oversized shirt.

“Hey.” I greeted him, mockingly. He chuckled right along with me, but noticeably made sure to keep his eyes on me as I shifted about the room.

“How was your shower?” He asked, still swiveling to keep his eyes on me.

“Very relaxing. How was yours?” I asked.

“Lonely.” He muttered. My cheeks flushed at the sound of his voice… I wasn’t expecting that response.

I kept my back to him as I tugged a shirt out of the top drawer of my five-drawer chest and smiled “Why would it be lonely.”

Chris didn’t respond immediately and hesitantly, I craned my neck to look back at him. His eyes were right where I expected them to be… on my butt, which was strange because it was fully covered by this thick towel. I could feel a cool waft of air after the A/C kicked on literally just below my cheeks, but he couldn’t possibly see all that… could he?

His eyes finally darted up to meet mine and he quickly licked his lips and smirked “I don’t know… it just was.”

Humming softly to myself, I turned my attention back to the drawer and pushed it shut after retrieving the perfect shirt for my nap. I had no problem sliding the fabric on while this towel remained wrapped snuggly around my body, because the butterflies were losing their mind at this point and there was no way I would be dropping this towel right in front of him. So, I bunched the shirt up to give my head access to the hole and lifted it in preparation to slide it on, but I stopped… abruptly, once I felt his touch. I hadn’t even heard him get up that quick from the chair, but here he was… warm breath tickling at the base of my neck and all.

“Wha-what are you doing?” I stammered with a quivering voice.

His confident fingers glided around to the front of my towel and I stared down at them as they clutched onto the fabric, threatening to pull it right apart “Aren’t you gonna let me oil your belly?”

With a nervous gulp of the largest mouthful of saliva, I leaned back into him as he steadily pressed his entire front against my back “I um… already did.”

“Hmm…” His lips were indeed pressed lightly against the back of my neck and my eyes remained glued to his fingers as he finally tugged at the towel, loosening the ends until it came completely undone. He let go of it, leaving it to fall in a heap at my feet and I silently thanked God that I wasn’t facing him… I would have been utterly embarrassed by the heavy blush coating my cheeks.

“Well maybe you missed a spot.” He disappeared suddenly, where he went I wasn’t sure because I was too afraid to turn around. I could hear some quiet rummaging off to my left from what sounded like the bathroom and a few seconds later, he was right back behind me with his newfound bottle of oil in tow. He uncapped it, squirted a hefty amount into the palm of his hand, then resealed it and tossed the bottle over onto my bed. From the corner of my eye I watched as it landed with a thud… a thud that seemed to match exactly what was happening in my chest. My heart was pounding as I listened to him rub his hands together, distributing the oil evenly between both hands before making contact with the skin on the back of my shoulders.

My eyes shut instinctively and I focused on the kneading of his long fingers just as much as he did. Pushing his hands further up, his palms met the base of my neck on each side and his thumbs worked the oil from the base all the way up to my hairline and back down again. The straps of my sports bra were thin, so they didn’t seem to deter him as he made his way down to my shoulders and the top of my back, still kneading along the way. I couldn’t help the way my head rotated back and I cursed myself when I heard my own soft moan when Chris’s fingers collided with the top of my back… it was my spot and he knew it.

He did that sexy chuckle that I’d grown infatuated with and leaned in close, meeting the base of my neck with his plush lips. I wasn’t even sure how much oil he’d squirted into his hands, but the further down he moved, the more warmth I felt against my skin… he was determined not to miss a spot. His hands made their way to my lower back and I shivered in his grasp as his lips moved down to my right shoulder. But, the one thing I couldn’t help but notice… he made sure to press his lips against every inch of my skin between the base of my neck and my shoulder. He continued on with this pattern from my right shoulder to my left, then on to the middle of my back… never missing a beat in between.

I was in a daze standing there, not sure whether to focus on the feeling of his steadily kneading fingers or his lips pressing against the entire canvas of my back delicately. Within minutes he’d reached my lower back finally and he knelt to continue his pursuit of introducing his lips to all of me. From my lower back to my butt and right down to my thighs… his attack of pleasure was never ending.

“Chris…” His name fled my lips like silk as I finally parted my lids to stare down at him as he eased around to the front of my legs, “Why are you doing this?”

Once he reached the front of my left shin he stood slowly, towering over me of course, and with the most sensually somber expression on his perfect face, he glared down at me quietly at first as if reading my thoughts.

“Your body is a temple and… I promised you that I would never harm it in anyway. And I did... in the worst way.” We both knew what he was referring to, but I was too caught in a trance by his beauty to stop him from speaking on that and forcing us both to relieve it in this blissful moment.

“So now…,” He leaned in close to press his lips against my right shoulder, “I’m gonna make it up to every inch of you.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my water broke in that very moment, but I knew better because I felt no pain or discomfort… only a fresh puddle in the crotch of my boy shorts. My eyes crossed as I stared into his face because he was closing in on me. His lips landed on mine in the most perfect way and he fell right into the most crippling make out session that left me gripping onto his biceps like my life depended on it. My head rotated at a steady pace to keep up with him and eventually we breathed harshly against each other’s faces because neither of us was willing to pull back for a breath of air.

I could feel his hands cupping my bloated breasts and his thumbs tinkering with my nipples through the thick material of the bra. My mouth remained latched onto his, even when I felt the tips of his fingers curling into the bottom of the bra. He wanted to get it off, but neither of us was willing to part from the other to make that happen. I pulled back from him slowly, unwillingly, and he only leaned forward to keep us connected until the bra got to a point where it would either hang from my neck or come off completely.

With a giggle I finally managed to snatch completely away from his flushed lips, but he never laughed or even cracked a smile… this boy was on a serious mission. His hands found their home at my breasts after I yanked the bra up and over my head and I’m quite positive we were both utterly shocked in that moment… me by the newfound sensitivity in my hardened buds that left me moaning from his touch alone, him by his sudden discovery of my pregnancy enhanced size C boobs.

“Oh my God.” He whispered, staring down at them like he’d never seen them before. His eyes didn’t know where to land, nor did his fingers, so after a few prolonged seconds he leaned down abruptly and suckled my right nipple into his mouth. He released a harsh breath of disbelief against my skin and I held onto the back of his head with my head tossed back thanks to my very own disbelief. No one warned me just how amazing it was going to feel to have somebody suck on these things while my body was like this. I guess… I was just super sensitive to all things sexual at this point, but somehow managed to suppress it while Chris and I were apart. But today… we were together again and tossing all inhibitions out the window.

He spent what felt like forever sucking and nipping and licking all over my breast, I just knew I was going to orgasm at any minute from that sensation alone… until he switched up and shifted to the left, using his left hand to continue to fondle the nipple on the right.

“That feels so good Charlie!” I groaned like a crazy woman as my left hand continued to grip onto his head and my right gripped onto a handful of my own hair. He grunted against me, sending a strange foreign vibration directly into the nerves of my nipple and that almost crippled me… I came right where I stood and thanked God for this man’s strength. He gripped onto my body in a way that both turned me on even more and felt protective enough to make me want to pass right out.

I shuddered against him, breathing heavily into the fabric of his crisp white t-shirt. I didn’t even notice until now that he was dressed so casually adorable in a t-shirt and black basketball shorts… because only now was I clinging to his shirt for dear life… and only now was he pressed so closely against me that I could feel his solid erection through the thin fabric of his shorts. He held onto me as I rode that first wave, but it was clear that he had no intentions of stopping soon… not when he’d already moved reluctantly past my breasts and down to my bulging belly. He moved into a squatted position in front of me, arms still up to grip onto my waist because I continued to flinch like a crack head from the aftershock of that orgasm. Slowly he slid his hands from my hips and around to the sides of my stomach, eyeing me closely as he did so.

“I’m very thankful that you’re the mother of my first daughter.” He muttered, strategically placing the sweetest kiss right against my protruding belly button. Somehow I managed to conjure up a smirk that I sent his way as I watched him watch me while he kissed my skin.

“I wanna build a big beautiful family with you,” He whispered, pecking the right side of my belly with it still firmly in his grip, “I’m gonna put at least five more of my seeds in here.”

I snickered then and tossed my head back lightly because the more I thought about the insanity he’d just spoken into existence, the funnier it got “You’re silly.”

“I’m serious.” He continued to whisper as if he’d wake baby girl if he spoke too loud. His expression remained somber, however, which sent an unmistakable shiver right down my spine. He alone made the thought of bearing six of his children totally attainable.

As he’d promised when he started this entire process more than thirty minutes ago, he gently kissed every inch of my stomach. He mumbled sweet words as he made his way around and left me in complete bliss. I was in euphoric bliss… he’d drawn me into a lost land of pleasure and I almost couldn’t comprehend what he was doing to my body.

“… soon. I’m gonna put the fattest rock on this finger, really soon.” I tuned in to that part. My heart raced once I realized he was gripping onto my left hand with his right and he was staring up at me, obviously awaiting my response. Dropping my head to face him, my brows furrowed when I realized exactly what he’d said.

“What?” I uttered foolishly. My mind was too caught between reality and fantasy and painful, throbbing pleasure… I wasn’t sure if I’d actually heard what I thought I��d just heard.

He grinned adorably, showcasing the deepest dimple that never failed to keep him youthful and handsome “You heard me.”

Before I could respond in any way to get a clearer understanding of exactly what I’d heard, I watched with intrigue as his abnormally thick, long tongue slithered out to meet the bottom of my stomach. He swirled the fleshy organ ‘round and ‘round below my belly button, inching his way lower and lower until he reached the top of my left thigh.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. Should I continue to stand or should I ease my way back to the bed or maybe even the swiveling desk chair he’d abandoned long ago? He seemed to have a solid answer before I could decide… before I could register where his face was, he’d reached up for my thighs and wedged them apart. His fingers were hooked into the top of my boy shorts and he began the excruciatingly slow process of sliding them down, making sure to press his lips against my thighs and legs as he went. By the time he got the cotton hindrance down to the floor, he’d done it… he’d shown every single inch of my body a snippet of his attention, all except one forgotten area…

“Chris!” I gasped, tossing my head back and clutching onto the top of his head as best as I could. He met my lips right in the center with his, something I wasn’t expecting at all. He moved so gently and precisely, teasingly even. It was like pure torture because I really was throbbing and ready to topple over from my own weight, and this time… he didn’t have me. He was sitting directly on his butt on the floor now and he’d angled himself so that he was right below me. His hands were back behind him on the floor and he used them to keep himself up and steady and I couldn’t even see his face if I wanted to because my stomach stuck out entirely too far to see anything past my breasts.

I was on my own now and I prayed I didn’t cave in on this boy’s head. The way the tip of his tongue swirled insanely slow around my clit had me seeing stars behind my closed eyes. I could not believe this was happening. I had to be dreaming… I just had to. From the timid Chris I’d been reintroduced to almost a month ago on the back deck of his mother’s house at his welcome home party, to the Chris who was now on the floor with me hovering above him naked and wide open above him for him to feast on… this was not reality. But… somehow, it was. It was all real… even the feeling of him suckling the bud of nerves like a hard peppermint candy. It was almost like he was testing the waters before he completely dove in, which I certainly was not prepared for.

I moaned out his name once more, calling out to him to encourage him to keep going and never stop. I swear the type of pleasure this man could bring me was unmatched. I’d never even been with anyone else and if he hadn’t done it before, in this very moment he solidified for me that he was my first and my last.

He sucked and licked, licked and sucked, faster and faster… and after a while I started to hear the distinct sound of wet smacking and that was all it took to have my thighs trembling and me bearing down right in his mouth. He spread his mouth wide, cupping it over the entirety of my womanhood to catch every drop I had to offer and he pushed himself up enough to support his body without his hands… because now he needed those to hold me up.

My legs were giving out, I couldn’t catch my breath, and I prayed that my aunt hadn’t returned to the house anytime throughout the duration of my orgasm because I couldn’t hear past my own squealing.

“Oh my God, Chris I ca… I can’t!” I moaned, gripping tight onto the top of his head. I was truly afraid that I would go down at any second.

“I got you baby… I got you.” Damn his voice… it alone sent another wave through my core and my legs finally gave out. Orgasm number three and I was positive my body wouldn’t be able to take anymore. One thing was for sure though, he did have me and for that I was thankful. He’d slowed down just enough to wrap his arms around my thighs and his hands squeezed my butt to not only hold me up, but to pull me in even closer.

“Please…” I huffed, failing to push his head away like my mind was screaming for me to do. Somehow with him still squatting in front of me, he slowly began to push me back toward the bed. I silently rejoiced when I felt the soft fabric against the back of my legs because the moment he decided to let me go, I was sure to go right down to the floor. Carefully and delicately, Chris maneuvered me down onto the surface and stood only for a second to help me lay flat on my back. I still hadn’t managed to catch my breath yet, so while he pushed me into position with my legs propped up and spread wide, I took as much time as I could to get my whole life together.

I didn’t even have time to consider just how vulnerable I felt with my entire pregnant body being exposed to him in the broad daylight, before I felt his hands wrap around my thighs. He held me down in position and went right back to work, but this time he was done teasing. My neck arched as I tossed my head back and shut my eyes… he was trying to eat me alive, I just knew he was! He made his way around my vagina like the great white shark hunting in the deepest waters for his prey. He grunted and moaned against me, clearly turning himself on even more by his craft. Though I was sure that I was dying, I loved every minute of it and never wanted it to end.

I don’t know how long he kept me in that position until he lifted my thighs and raised them over his shoulders, giving himself better leverage to suck my soul right out. His tongue reached crevices I’m sure some men’s penises had never even met and yet he never bothered to come up for air. My hands roamed around the surface of my bed until they finally found my breasts and I squeezed and kneaded them, tinkering with my nipples to heighten the sensations ripping through my body.

“Ahhh, yes… right there Charlie!” I hollered, encouraging him to keep going because I was well on my way to a fourth orgasm. He swiftly swept his tongue up from the entrance of my vagina to my clit, which he promptly suckled into his mouth. With his lips secured around the sensitive bud of nerves he wagged his tongue up and down over the tip of it and lifted his hands to grip onto each side of my belly.

It was something about that act alone that warmed me from my core to the tips of my fingers and I groaned, unable to fight the urge to look down to actually witness him devouring me. The sound of his tongue wagging mercilessly around my clit, sopping up every drop I had to offer had me leaking like a faucet all over his mouth, but the sight of his hands planted firmly on either side of my stomach so possessively turned me on more than I imagined… before I knew it, I was bearing down once again right in his mouth. I threw my hands down to meet his at the sides of my stomach and screamed so loud I was positive anyone roaming the street near my house right now would hear. He was right in the middle of lifting me into another world, another galaxy where he and I were the only two that existed. And I was okay with that. I was alright with wherever he wanted to take me, as long as I knew he was right there with me… and that this feeling was never going to end. My chest heaved with desperation as I snatched my eyes open, gazing past the fading swirls and stars at the ceiling.

“You okay?” His raspy voice sent an unmistakable tremor down my spine and his warm breath against my lips had me nearly clinching my thighs around his head.

I hummed a response, swiping a hand up over my forehead to rid it of the perspiration that suddenly had loose strands of my hair sticking to me.

“Hmm?” I smiled… he hadn’t changed one bit. He wouldn’t dare be fully satisfied with anything less than a verbal response and I chuckled softly at the thought.

“I’m alright.” The sound of my own voice, laden with the stress from screaming like a mad woman, made me cringe. I could feel Chris pressing his lips ever so softly against my stomach as he made his way back up. He finally crept his way through the valley between my breasts, not without leaving a few soft pecks along the way, until we were face to face again.

“Hey.” He whispered, smirking down at me. “Hey.” I giggled. Chuckling cutely, he leaned forward to press his lips against mine. I inhaled a waft of myself as he leaned in close and tasted my own sweetness when his tongue tangled with mine… I could feel myself leaking all over again. I could already tell that this moment was going to be one that I would store in the most treasured part of my memory. I never wanted this to end with him… this was exactly how I imagined a perfect life with him. Curled up in the sheets after he’d taken his time to make love to my body… my thoughts… my soul. I didn’t want this day to end.

“Can we just stay like this all day?” He muttered, lips still fully engaged with mine and no obvious desire to break free any time soon. Snorting against his lips, I full out laughed and pulled back from him then tossed my head back into the down comforter, giggling nonstop.

“Oooh I wish we could Charlie.”

“We can…” He’d found a new home with his face in the crook of my neck and I grinned as I lazily looped my arms around his midsection. I wasn’t even sure how he managed to cuddle up so close with me with all this belly in the way because I couldn’t feel his weight at all.

“No, I need to get up and put some clothes on. I feel sticky.” I moaned airily.

He chortled against my neck, playfully nipping my flesh with his teeth before pulling back to peer down at me “Sticky… did I do that?”

He was really quite a character. Slithering my hands up to latch onto the back of his neck, I smiled the broadest smile and tugged him down to settle my lips back onto his… I could truly kiss this man all day.

We remained like that for a while, kissing sweetly and cuddling closely. Our breathing began to quicken and I moaned one time too many before finally pushing him away and smiling at his flushed lips.

“I really would like to put some clothes on.”

“I guess,” He smacked his lips playfully and pushed himself into an upright position, “I need to go take another shower anyway.”

I was on my way to asking him what he needed another shower for, but I got too caught up in the perfect masterpiece that was he. From the golden complexion of his face that I could just stare at all day, to his broad shoulders and the strength of his arms as he pushed himself up until he stood tall and masculine at the side of the bed. My eyes drifted further as I eased up onto my elbows to finish gawking at him. I smirked and nibbled into the corner of my bottom lip as I zoned in on his crotch. The bulge… was still there.

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