#MICHAEL DESERVED TO GRIEVE HIM MORE

[unfavorableangel]

"gone. im sorry to say. exterminated by my father like everyone else."

"like everyone else."

no but the way michael says that, it sounds like adam was so special, and he can't believe adam would be killed along with the rest of humanity.

[lovelytsunoda]

I’m just a man // lance stroll

part of the welcome to wherever you are verse

summary: on their way to circuit of the americas, the hutchence-strolls stop by california to pay pilgrimage to a place very close to y/n’s heart.

pairing: lance stroll x hutchence!reader

warnings: mentions of parental death (see the lore masterpost for more details about what happened to micheal hutchence)…the timeline is a little fucked but please just ignore it

authors note: posting this in time to celebrate ✨inxs day✨ on august 16 because I’m a music nerd

y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!

y/n.hutchence posted to her private story!

lancestroll just posted!!

los angeles, california

tagged: y/nhutchence

liked by fernandoalonso, yn.hutchence, chloestroll and 3,589 others

lancestroll los angeles with my lover girl 🩷

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y/n.hutchence I know we aren’t here for entirely happy reasons but I love that I’m doing this with you and I’ve had a wonderful time so far 🥺

-> lancestroll there’s no one else I’d rather be here with, my sweet girl

user what does she mean not entirely happy reasons?

-> user her dads grave is in Hollywood so I’m assuming she means she’s come to visit him

garygarrybeers my neighbour is wondering what happened to their dog?

-> lancestroll don’t look at me look at y/n

-> yn.hutchence are mr and mrs callaghan sure that salmon can’t come back to monaco with us?

user hilarious how everyone thought she was a gold digger at first until they found out she was literal music royalty

y/n.hutchence just posted!

liked by garrygarybeers, yourmom, lancestroll and others

y/n.hutchence I miss you, Daddy. I was just a little girl when you left us behind, and at the time I didn’t understand how much pain you were in. I took that greif and I internalized it and it made me rebellious, it made me stupid. Eventually I straightened out, and I’m sure you know that because I’m certain you’ve been watching me from up there with good ol’ Bon Scott and I want you to know that I’m okay. I’m surrounded by great family and even better friends, I’m married to a man that treats me like a princess and reminds me every day that I’m deserving of love. Growing up without you was hard, but I’ve carried you in my heart with me since I was a little kid, and I still feel you with me now.

I grieve for the moments you missed, the lost father-daughter dances. Paul is a great stepdad, and I’m glad mom found love again, but I can’t help but think that you should still be here.

I love you, Dad, and I always will.

comments on this post have been limited

kirkpengilly michael was one of the best friends a man could ask for….ill miss him forever

lancestroll I wish I could have met him myself. he sounds like an incredible person with an extraordinary legacy. I know he would be proud of you, sweetheart.

jonfarriss that man was one of a kind. rip, brother.

yourmom I hope you know how much he loved you, sweetie.

-> yn.hutchence he loved us both, mom

yourbestie sending you all of my love ❤️

[etherealising]

interlude two | anyone who had a heart

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing: carmy x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x his delusions | carmen berzatto x self-sabotage | fem!reader x weakness for short slutty men with blue eyes | fem!reader x slutty gold chains | fem!reader x BEING FUCKING WEAK FOR SMARMY CARMY |

summary: the devastion of mikey's passing pushes baby into the arms of the man she loves the most.

warning(s): death | grief | funeral | refusal to grieve | denial | kinda delusional behavior | unhealthy coping mechanisms | angst | fluff | longing | mutual pining | idiots in love | love drunk carmy | probably ooc!carmy | wise willie | zero accuracy regarding new york | baby letting men pump and dump her | SMUT | P IN V | UNPROTECTED SEX | SOFT!DOM READER | VANILLA SEX | EMOTIONAL TENDER SEX |

wc: 17.3k

edited to the best of my abilities. if things don't make sense i apologize!

March 1, 2022

The rain rhythmically bounced off the umbrella in Richie’s hand. Both of you huddled under the slightly too-small object, the majority of your bodies dry, but each of you felt your fair share of rain land squarely on you. The child in front of you, dry as a desert, her small stature an advantage.

All that could be heard was nature's tears singing against the various umbrellas and the voice of the priest that seemed to just drone on and on.

Donna’s cry’s had been relegated to silent sobs just moments ago, you watched as Nat put her own hurt and discomfort aside to assuage Donna’s nerves.

You had all but ignored the empty seat situated next to Natalie, not wanting to believe the truth of the situation. As you stared at the coffin resting several feet in front of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what the cold lifeless body lying inside looked like. You knew there was only so much that could be done to make a body with a hole in its head presentable, and that a closed-casket funeral was for the best.

It was selfish, but you wanted one last look at Mikey. Did he look peaceful? Was he finally freed from the vices that had for so long controlled him? You so hoped that wherever he was, wherever his soul found its spiritual comforts he was at peace.

A tug on the sleeve of your coat drew your attention. Looking down your eyes met Eva's, the little girl insisted on standing with you, her small toddler hand securely wrapped in your adult one. It felt a little odd to be standing here like this, a buffer between a family that was no more, while also serving as the memory of one family’s missing piece.

She raised her arms in a signal to be picked up. Funerals were no place for children to be, but what good was lying to them about the realities of life? You gently lifted her into your arms sitting her on your hip comfortably. Eva’s small head rested against yours playing with the pearls around your neck, the small girl could only understand so much of what was going on around her.

You felt Tiff step closer to you, arm wrapping around your waist so she leaned into Eva’s back. The comfort of the small family surrounding you keeps you grounded to the moment in front of you, not allowing your mind to think of the pain Mikey must’ve been in, or the voicemail that had gone unchecked for the past week.

Funerals were a funny thing for you, the last one you attended was your mom’s. And it wasn’t a competition, but her death was easier. That’s the thing with terminal illness; death is inevitable. You would never be prepared for any death in your life, but it was a bit easier knowing your mom didn’t have a fighting chance. Her decision to leave this realm behind was harder, but knowing her passing was painless and of her own volition helped.

But Mikey’s death was different. It was sudden, unexpected, and messy and it wasn’t the death Michael deserved. But what made it all the worse for you is that he was utterly and terribly alone.

And it wasn’t like anyone wasn’t privy to his substance abuse, but none of you knew the depths to which it ate away at him, how it slowly killed him and he kept pushing on for the sake of others.

Maybe you should’ve asked him more about how he was doing when you interviewed him. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent him a portion of your article. Standing at the cemetery as the funeral continued, even with little Eva cuddling into you and Tiff and Richie surrounding you; you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to all the things you could’ve done to save Mikey from himself.

Eva was asleep against your chest as you made your way to the fresh grave, Tiff in front of you and Richie closely behind doing his best to cover your small group with the umbrella. The rain hadn’t let up as you raised your dirt-filled hand over the pristine casket, this didn’t feel right at all. You had yet to cry since Sugar called you days ago with the news, it felt as though you were numb to the truth. Maybe it was your mind's way of protecting you.

But as long as the casket remained closed, and you never got one last peek at the man who had taught you that you deserved more than what you settled for. You could pretend for just a little longer that none of this was real.

Releasing your grip on the dirt you watched as it splashed across the top of the casket mixing with the droplets of rain. You hesitated for a minute turning your back on this casket felt too final, like leaving this cemetery would be closing a door in your life you were desperate to keep open.

Richie’s free hand came up to your shoulder, a soft squeeze pressed into your jacket. You looked back at him the same hurt and pain you were feeling reflected on his face. He gave you a small nod as a way to let you know that it was okay to walk away, that he understood the hurt you were feeling.

As Tiff walked off to her car, you held Eva in one hand and allowed Richie to grip your other. The warm grasp of his hand gave you the strength to turn your back and walk away from a man whose love, charisma, and smile you would never be blessed to see or experience again.

March 12, 2022

Carmy sat on his lawn chair watching the rain splash against the window that led to his balcony, the funeral program rested lazily on his lap held in place by his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He didn’t realize it but this had been his routine since he learned of his brother's passing.

He would come home not even bothering to change out of his work clothes and plop down in the creaky lawn chair, usually on his balcony but recently the weather hadn’t been calm enough for that.

Light up a cigarette and just bask in his despair.

The only difference had been the program he received in the mail a week ago. The newly acquired folded paper joined his after-work routine for the day after being left on the island in his kitchen since receiving it. 

Carmy wasn’t sure if he was angry at Mikey for choosing death, or if he was more hurt by what they would never again be able to experience with each other. He felt like once again Mikey had left him behind, not thinking about the ways his actions would affect those around him, affect the people who loved him.

The decision to skip the funeral wasn’t as hard as most would have thought. What good would Carmy have to offer by being there, it's not like anyone needed him. And anyway, he couldn’t just drop everything happening here in New York for a day, life didn’t work that way for him. 

Carmy knew he didn’t hate Mikey, he just didn’t understand his choices recently. Didn’t necessarily understand how much the prescriptions had fucked with his mind. And maybe in a selfish way, he wasn’t ready to understand, to forgive Mikey for leaving him so soon. Nothing to even show for the loss of the person who inspired him most besides the funeral program as an ugly reminder of what he could never be again.

A soft knock rang through the quiet apartment, the man inside happy to ignore it, sure it was just one of his neighbors doing whatever weird shit they usually did. He removed a cigarette from his pack standing up and setting the program in the chair before grabbing his lighter and moving to open the window.

He heard it again, this time a bit louder and more urgent sounding. Carmy removed his phone from his pocket, the generic lock screen shining up at him with the time reading 2:30 am.

No one had ever shown up at his apartment this late, not even the woman across the way who periodically tried to charm Carmy all kinds of inconvenient times of the night. The knocking finally stopped as muffled voices carried through the hallway outside his door.

Carmy wouldn’t consider himself a nosy neighbor but he did find himself a bit curious who was knocking at his door at such an hour it alerted another tenant. Cigarette sitting between his lips he made his way to the door, ear leaned against it as he tried to catch bits and pieces of the conversation happening out there.

Having no such luck he resorted to checking the peephole to find his neighbor outside her door talking with a woman who appeared to be soaked to the bone. Carmy watched for a moment, he couldn’t place it but something about the unknown woman looked familiar to him. He continued watching his neighbor motioning for the woman to wait outside for a moment while she grabbed something from her apartment.

Carmy was ready to return to his initial smoke break but found himself stopping as the woman faced his door. Heart stopping as he took in features he would remember for a lifetime. He quickly moved to unlock his door, throwing it open only to surprise the ghost of a woman standing in his hallway.

You ceased your knocking as you heard a door opening behind you, turning to face a woman who appeared to be around the same age as you. From her appearance, it didn’t seem like you had woken her up so you were grateful for that fact.

“You’re making a mess in the hallway,” her eyes traveled over your form. Your figure sopping wet from the downpour you just escaped from.

A tired sigh left your lips, “Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know the guy who lives here?” Your hand motioned to the door that was at your back that you had just been knocking on. 

“You a friend or something?” The skepticism in the woman’s voice irked you, it was a yes or no question there was no need for her to give you the third degree.

You nodded trying to keep your cool. You were tired, dripping wet, and you weren’t even sure if Carmy was home. “Yeah, something like that.”

She gave you another once over before shaking her head back and forth, “No I don’t, sorry.” She began to close her door before you called out to her one last time.

“Wait sorry, is there any way I could use your phone, mine is dead,” you presented your phone as evidence, you didn’t want to be in this woman’s presence any more than she wanted to put up with you, but you needed to at least call a cab.

The subtle roll of her eyes caused the grip on your phone to tighten, luckily though the woman gave you a gesture to wait there before returning to her apartment.

You let out a sigh of relief, head dropping as your thoughts raced. You had no idea what the hell was going through your mind when you booked the last-minute flight. Having found Carmen’s address written on a forgotten piece of paper lying in the kitchen of the Berzatto family home.

The excuse to Sugar was that you had to meet with a potential interviewee for an upcoming article and couldn’t reschedule. You had already been in Chicago for longer than you originally planned, so what was one impromptu plane ride to the east coast?

There was no sign that the woman you bothered was coming back anytime soon so you decided to cut your losses, you would find a pay phone or something to use. You turned around sending one last look at Carmy’s door, the feeling that this was all for nothing setting in.

You went to pick up your bag from the ground when the sounds of a door unlocking caught your attention, raising back up to your full height as you watched the door you were initially knocking on harshly swing open.

Separated by a threshold Carmen Berzatto stood in front of you clad in his disheveled chef whites looking just as exhausted as you felt. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if this trip did end up paying off, but after five years without him, five years of hurting and hoping you could no longer hold back all the emotions the man evoked within you.

Your trembling lips raised into a pathetic smile as your eyes took all of him in, “Hi Carmy.”

The water dripped off of you as you awkwardly stood in the entryway to Carmy’s apartment. You watched him rush around to tidy up his apartment, he hadn’t said a word to you yet just opened his door wider with the expectation that you would enter.

“Carm,” your trembling voice doing nothing to stop the scrambling of the man in front of you.

“Carmen.” The name left your lips a little louder this time, finally gaining the man’s attention, his entire being turning in your direction but eyes never meeting yours. “Uh, could I maybe take a shower?”

Carmy’s head nodded rapidly, staying glued to his spot for a moment before he signaled for you to follow him. As you walked through the apartment to his bedroom you couldn’t help but take in just how Carmy-like the living space was.

Lacking personal touch and like he was ready to flee at a moment's notice; the only commitment the man could make was being a chef apparently.

You stopped in front of the bathroom looking around his room before finally focusing on him. “I, do you think I could borrow some clothes?”

Again Carmy nodded the man acting as though his voice box wasn’t working. You watched him move around his room wondering if he’d ever award you any form of attention or verbal acknowledgment. He stopped for a minute eyes finally finding yours, “Go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll leave these on the bed.”

Your eyes found the contents in his hand before it was your turn to nod and head into the bathroom. You started the shower searching for a towel and washcloth as you waited for the water to heat up. This whole trip could very well be a mistake, but there was no going back now, you were here, and you had already used your miles. 

Slipping out of your wet clothes felt like a struggle, the heavy fabric clinging to you like a second skin. You quickly stepped into the shower, not wanting any of the water to go to waste. The steaming water helped to relax you, all your worries about your visit being set aside as you basked in the warmth radiating around you.

After standing under the shower head and allowing the water to caress your skin, you reached for the products Carmy had lined up in his shower. The shower gel is the same brand you used all those years ago on Christmas. Looking at the bottle in your hands you couldn’t help but think of all the ways in which Carmy wronged you, why you had allowed him to constantly hurt you, a fact you still couldn’t figure out.

And you couldn’t stand here in his shower glaring at a bottle the whole time you were here either. You took your time lathering your body allowing the calming aroma of lavender to invade your senses. Finishing you returned everything to its proper spot before rinsing your body and shutting the shower off.

Stepping out you wrapped the large fluffy towel around your body not chancing a glance at your reflection as you exited the bathroom. The door to the bedroom was closed and the clothes you saw in Carmy’s hands earlier sat in a neat pile on the bed. You perused the selection of a clean pair of boxer shorts, one of his many crew necks and a pair of socks were laid out for you.

The deja vu the last few sequences of events had given you hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

You would have to forgo a bra but you’d been in much more uncomfortable positions with Carmy than this. Dressing you made your way to the door, stopping for a moment to allow yourself a deep breath, you couldn’t be sure what you would be walking into. Along with the fact that you were in a city you had never been in and your return flight wasn’t for two more days, Carmy was your only option. 

The warmth in the apartment slapped you in the face as you left Carmy’s room, the heater had been turned on. You followed the trail you had first taken finding your way to the living room that doubled as a kitchen.

“Sit,” you were almost ready to argue with Carmy’s demanding tone, but the food situated on the island counter stopped you.

You made your way to the lone stool taking a seat, trying not to marvel at the food in front of you. Carmy’s water bill would be high for the month, you had apparently been in the shower long enough for a dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup to be made. Carmy still hard at work making something on the stovetop sans his chef jacket.

Eyeing the food in front of you, you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered. You greedily picked up a slice of the grilled cheese and dipped it into the hearty soup, The sigh of appreciation not going unnoticed by the chef a few feet away from you, a small smirk gracing his lips at the quiet sound you let out.

“Good?” The question caught you off guard, mouth still full, swallowing the bite in your mouth you set the rest of the sandwich down, eyes zeroing in on Carmy’s biceps that were put on full display by his form-fitting white shirt. 

“I’ve had better.” Carmy caught your shrug as he placed a steaming mug next to the rest of your food, doing his best not to outright smile at your stubborn attitude. He moved to lean his back against the sink, arms crossed over his chest as he studied you.

“Fuck Carmy,” the sigh left your lips reluctantly. “It’s actually fucking great.” So enthralled with the food set in front of you, you missed the pink blush that dusted across Carmy’s cheeks. The heat in the apartment almost felt like too much as the lewd words left your lips.

“Ahem, I uh, I’m gonna get cleaned up. Make yourself comfortable,” Carmy watched as you waved him off, the food you were eating stealing all of your attention.

Carmy watched you for a moment longer, still shocked that your physical presence was here in his apartment. He wasn’t sure what prompted this visit, or if he even deserved your attention after all the immature shit he had pulled. But he was thankful to see you doing well, to see you looking as though you belonged with him in his bland apartment the clothes comfortably sitting on your body providing him with a feeling of domesticity he was one day hoping to have with you.

The mug of hot chocolate in your hands helped to send warmth through your body. You were still sitting at the stool not sure what to do as Carmy freshened himself up. Now that you weren’t shivering cold and rushing through the apartment you could finally take in the less than cozy abode. 

It wasn’t much but you were sure it was enough for Carmy, taking a few sips of your drink you began ambling around the apartment, mug still gripped in your hands, a tether to reality. The living room wasn’t messy but more so what you would describe as Carmy’s version of organized clutter.

A small couch and television helped to offer a homey feeling. The out-of-place lawn chair caught your eye, and the corner of your lips quirked up at how fucking Carmy it was. You made your way to the window it was sitting in front of, the New York skyline at this time of the day still a sight to see. The rain gliding down the window felt like it matched the steady pace of your heartbeat.

Turning to the lawn chair the contents in the seat grabbed your attention. Leaning over you picked up the unassuming paper, a jolt of sadness rushing through you as you read over the program. The funeral a week ago is still stuck in the back of your mind, the closed sleek black casket haunting your eyelids every night.

You quickly replaced the program in its original spot. You had come here intending to confront Carmy about his absence, but the more you stood in his apartment, the more you realized you weren’t actually ready to hear Carmy’s truth.

48 hours was all you had here, if you decided to use it as an escape, so be it. You would have to return to the reality that Mikey was dead sooner than later. You were allowed to let yourself use the time spent here as an escape from reality. You could use your time here to reprimand Carmy for his life decisions, or you could use the borrowed time to relish in finally seeing him after five years and try to figure out the back and forth the two of you have been participating in for a majority of your lives.

Mikey would understand, he wanted you to be happy, so it was okay to pretend for a little while that he’d be waiting there in Chicago when you got back right?

You made your way back to the kitchenette needing a distraction from the very thoughts you were running away from. You finished off your hot cocoa before grabbing your remaining dishes and heading to the sink. Washing dishes was the first distraction you could think of. 

As you made your way to the sink the sound of a door opening and feet padding across the floor could be heard. Quickly turning on the faucet you reached for the dish rag sitting in the sink, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the pain that shot through the base of your palm, the running water easily turning a translucent pink color.

Snatching your hand back you spotted the blade of a knife that was covered in drops of your blood and haphazardly hidden under the dish rag. Your good hand reached to move the dish rag and grab the offending object. 

Finally getting a good grip on the knife, you were shocked at the familiarity of it, the personal initials carved into the handle proving your theory. The last time you laid eyes on these they were neatly tucked away into a luxurious gift box that Carmy discarded just as easily as he discarded you the morning after Christmas. 

And you thought they had been left in the same spot all these years, collecting dust in his childhood bedroom. But as you held a knife from the set in your hand, and your eyes moved to the remaining set delicately placed on the counter not too far away, you realized that to be nowhere near the truth. 

“Yo, what the fuck Baby,” your attention turned to Carmy’s voice behind you his figure clad in a pair of sweats and a white tank top. That stupid fucking gold chain that you had dreamed of taking between your teeth one too many times glistened against the firmness of his chest.

The delicate grip on your injured hand tore your eyes from the sinful chain. Carmy’s eyes raised your hand to his face examining the seriousness of the wound, “What happened?” 

“Cut myself,” you raised the knife in your hand to show him, watching as his eye darted between you and the tool he took so much pride in owning.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Carmen Berzatto’s attitude would never cease to surprise you.

You scoffed quickly snatching your hand from his grip, and walking to grab the dish towel hanging from his oven, “I didn’t do it on purpose you fucking idiot.” 

Carmy began rummaging around in his cabinets his search not continuing for too long before he made his way over to you, first aid kit in his grasp. You were honestly surprised he owned one sure he’d rather bask in his pain than take care of himself.

Your good hand shot out aiming to grab the first aid kit from his hands. The slight slap to your hand caused your mouth to drop open, who the hell did he think he was?

“Give me the kit Carmen.” You watched as his eyes met yours, the once blank expression on his face morphing into a frown. 

“Don’t say my name like that,” you rolled your eyes before reaching out once again, only to receive the same result. “Just let me help you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!”

You raised your eyebrows not expecting Carmy to yell at you. Your hand reluctantly came up between the two of you so he could bandage it up. It was official that you were weak for this man, the demanding tone in his voice shooting straight through you. 

The two of you sat in silence as Carmy cleaned the cut, the consensus was that you didn’t need stitches so the ointment and bandages Carmy had would do. You watched as he worked, hands delicately mending your wound he was so focused on.

When he finished you lowered your hand watching as he cleaned up before you made your exit to the living room, sitting on one side of the couch. Your back was to the kitchen as Carmy finished tidying up, the only sign he followed you out was him walking around the couch in your peripheral.

He joined you on the couch choosing the safe option and sitting directly across from you, the space speaks volumes. You brought your legs up to your chest, if this was a month ago you probably would have let all your hurt and anger guide you in this moment. 

But as life taught you, the universe was eager to snatch away people you thought you had forever with. 

It was silent for a little longer, the both of you avoiding eye contact. You finally turned to face him wanting to understand the choices he made regarding the situation between you two.

“Carmy?” You rested your chin atop your knees as he finally provided you with his full attention, “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyebrows raised, whether, from shock or surprise, you couldn’t be sure. You watched as his eyes darted across the room like he was looking for an anchor. You weren’t too sure who adult Carmy was, because the boy you used to know easily held conversations with you, even the tough ones. 

“I just…I want to understand you, Carmy. And I want to know why I’m not good enough for you,” as soon as those words left your lips it was like you were looking at 18-year-old Carmy again. “I thou-we seemed to be in a good place after Christmas dinner, but then I woke up alone and…and it felt like we were back at square one like you ghosted me all over again.”

You were staring directly into Carmy’s eyes, it was hard but it needed to be done. You needed him to see, to understand how much his actions continued hurting you. 

His hand raised in a gesture you had seen too many times to count, fingers running through his hair. If he didn’t want to have this conversation you couldn’t force him to, but you also wouldn’t keep allowing him to run in and out of your life when it was convenient for him. The two of you were friends once, and you weren’t going to allow him to continue exploiting the love you had for him.

Your arms wrapped around your propped-up legs, a security blanket for the words you were about to force out. “You can be honest with me, Carmy. If you told me you wanted nothing to do with me I’d be on the next flight out of here.” You waited for anything, a sigh, words, but all you got was his steel blue eyes staring you down in the space across from you. 

A sardonic chuckle escaped your lips as you quickly wiped the tears racing down your cheeks. Head falling back to stare at the ceiling as a way to not allow Carmy to see your tears, before calming yourself down enough to meet his gaze head-on.

“I can’t be the only one that wants more for us Carmy.” You could see the light reflecting off the glazed film in his eyes. “And I don’t think I am. But you’re inconsistent with your feelings, and I know it’s wrong of me to spring this on you considering the circumstances…but I just need honesty Carmy, that’s all.”

You said your peace, but you weren’t sure what else you could say to try to make him understand and maybe that was the problem, maybe he didn’t want to understand. You leaned into the couch cushion for comfort. The distance stretching between you was nowhere near as hurtful as the silence.

The fatigue from your flight was beginning to set in, you rushed everything to make it here that you hadn’t realized how much of a toll it took on you. 

Carmy watched you from his side of the couch, arms crossed against his chest. There was so much he wanted to say to you but didn’t know how. He knew you deserved the truth, but it had never before been asked of him in this context. He was scared of the fact that he wanted more with you; it  frightened him.

The idea he had of the two of you in his head was intoxicating and unnerving all at once. He could admit to himself that he dreamed of a life with you, and found himself lost in thought too many times to count about what it would be like to come home after a long shift to you there waiting for him.

Carmen was intoxicated by the idea of spending the rest of his life with you, a continuous beacon in your life that surpassed the title of friend and edged into something more. But he was unnerved as well because he wasn’t sure if this was love or infatuation.

Loving you unnerved Carmy, firstly because he wasn’t sure how he would know he was in love with you or not. And secondly, he didn’t know how to love you and wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. If there was one thing Carmy knew it was that you were deserving of a life-altering love, a love that transcended lifetimes if possible.

But he was almost positive he couldn’t be that person for you, he wasn’t deserving of you.

“I uh, I tried calling you,” Carmy stopped to collect himself, he wanted to talk to you, to let you understand him like you once did. “You changed your number. And that’s not an excuse. I understood why. I just…I guess I took it as a sign that there was nothing left for us.”

His eyes met yours searching for any sort of reaction, any form of acknowledgment. Your puffy eyes and tear-stained face stared back at him, his heart clenching in his chest at the emotional distress he constantly put you through.

“I um,” a placating smile raised to Carmy’s lips as he fumbled with his fingers as a distraction. “I can’t-Baby I-we both know I can’t give you what you deserve.” Carmy did his best to play off the watery undertone in his voice, eyes quickly darting up to yours as he heard your sniffles.

Carmy watched as your head rapidly nodded up and down, a sad knowing smile stretching across your lips. The tightness in his chest increased tenfold, his hand coming up to press into the middle of his chest, hoping to alleviate the pain. 

“I um, I think I would like to go to sleep if that’s okay?” You raised your head to look at Carmy, you told him you would accept his rejection, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to hurt. 

Carmy nodded getting up and walking towards you, holding his hand out to help you up. You allowed him to grasp your soft hand in his firm calloused one, head down as he led you to his bedroom. He motioned for you to sit down on his bed as he escaped into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with tissues in his hand.

You avoided his eyes as he bent down on his knees in front of you, gently using the collected tissue to dab at your puffy face. You couldn’t help the sorrowful laugh that escaped your lips, the scene reminded you of when the two of you were growing up and Carmy would always help clean your face after a good cry.

A tight smile formed on his lips as his eyes met yours, the two of you probably thinking of the same memories. He finished drying your face before returning to the bathroom to throw away the tissues. Carmy helped you up from the bed to pull down his comforter before allowing you to get in.

He watched as you scooted over to make room for him awaiting his entrance, “Uh lemme just tidy up out there.” Both of you knew it was an excuse but neither were brave enough to admit it. 

Carmy quickly left the room heading straight for the small duffle you had brought with you. He was sure the rain had soaked through your bag and wet your belongings. Making his way to the closet where his washer and dryer were located he easily fit your clothes into the wash, not wanting you to be stuck in his clothes for however long you were there.

He found your laptop bag in there as well, quickly removing it from its confines and drying it with a clean kitchen towel. Placing the laptop on his counter he made his way around the kitchenette to clean up the mess your blood made and finish off the dishes you hadn’t been able to wash. All of this was a distraction to the warm body he knew was waiting up for him in bed, he felt the urge to prolong the inevitable but realized he might never get this chance again.

Carmy quickly finished his clean of the front room, it wasn’t up to his usual standards but he could no longer deny himself the thing he wanted most in that moment; to wrap you up in his arms and hope he’d never have to let go.

Making sure all appliances were off and starting the washer, he quickly made his way back into his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as he could. He stood in the middle of the room for a minute, the figure peacefully lying in his bed not something he was used to. Carmy quietly crept over to the empty side of the bed lifting the covers and allowing himself to slide in.

Carmy knew you weren’t asleep and any other time he might’ve felt embarrassed to be so eager to be near you, but something about being in your presence felt right. Carmy made sure to scoot close to you, arm moving to wrap around your midsection and bring you closer to him, the need to feel your body pressed against his barely being satisfied.

His face found its way to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath, the lavender scent he loved so much dancing across his senses. The sigh you let out into the night was a sign that you both wanted this just as much.

Carmy moved his head up a few inches, lips brushing against the ‘B’ hidden behind your ear. There wasn’t a day he didn’t think about the hidden ink stain or the words you said to him when he first found it.

Pressing one more soft kiss against the inkblot Carmy felt as you relaxed into him. Your warm body in his arms once more provided a feeling of bliss he wasn’t aware he needed.

You both knew the position you were in and the soft caress of Carmy’s lips against your skin, was a direct contradiction of the claims he made earlier. But neither of you would be the voice of reason in these 48 hours you had together.

Whatever happened between the two of you during this time would be welcomed with open arms. You and Carmy were on borrowed time, there would be time for regrets later, but as Carmy held you in his arms he decided that he would try to give you pieces of himself that no one had ever seen; even if it would all end in hours. 

“Sweet dreams Baby.” 

Carmy looked most at peace while sleeping, the stress and exhaustion seemed to have melted off of him as his mind transported him to the land of dreams.

You had been awake for some time now, Carmy’s presence helpful enough to allow you a few peaceful hours of sleep. But the inevitable thoughts of a life lost would always haunt you through the night. So here you were watching the slight rise and fall of Carmy’s chest, his lips parted slightly. He looked adorable like this but you felt a little weird just watching someone sleep. 

Your hand raised gently moving the waves out of Carmy’s face, leaning in slightly to press a delicate kiss on his forehead before quietly making your way out of the bed. It was a little tricky to open the door without waking Carmy but you had managed.

Leaving the hallway that led to Carmy’s room you entered the living room, searching for the duffle you brought with you. Only to find it open on the floor, your toiletry bag the only item that remained in the bottom of the bag. Confusion swept across your face as you tried to figure out where the rest of your belongings were.

Looking around the living area you spotted your laptop resting on the counter, your laptop bag sitting on a towel next to it. You would figure things out later. The first thing you wanted to do right now was to brush your teeth.

You quickly tip-toed back into Carmy’s room and the bathroom quietly shutting the door behind you and beginning your morning routine. Now refreshed you exited the bathroom, a small smile gracing your lips as you took in Carmy’s still-sleeping figure. 

Perusing the fridge and pantry you found a lack of any edible food. The few things available allowed you to whip up some French toast. You were no chef and maybe you should’ve left the cooking to Carmy but you were hoping this could be an olive branch for the two of you. If Carmy didn’t want to be with you romantically, maybe the two of you could work on mending your friendship.

Carmy woke up to an empty bed, his first thoughts that you had escaped in the night, his heart clenching a bit at the thought. He couldn’t be mad he pulled the same stunt on you, turning to lay on his back he stared at his ceiling, mind racing as he thought about the conversation from yesterday. 

Carmy knew he wanted to be happy, and he also knew he wanted that with you. He just didn’t know the first thing about romantic love or how to explicitly make his wants clear to you. It seemed as though he’d never get that chance, you were serious about catching the next flight out. 

Sitting up in bed he looked around, trying to gain his bearings. The sound of his bedroom door opening jolted him from his thoughts. He watched as you walked in with two plates in your hands, the smell of French toast invading his senses. His eyes found yours as you stopped in the doorway a small shy smile sent in his direction.

“I made us breakfast,” Carmy watched you make your way towards him, taking a plate off your hands as you sat on the bed in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind French toast, you uh didn’t have much to work with.” 

Carmy’s eyes subtly lit up at the fact that you were still there, that you hadn’t left. “No, yeah this is great, you uh, used cinnamon and everything.” The shy teasing smile on Carmy’s face caused a small chuckle to bubble out of you.

The two of you ate in silence for the most part, each of you stealing glances at one another while the other wasn’t paying attention. Shy smiles sent each other’s way when one of you would catch the other’s eye. 

You watched as Carmy took the plate from your hands and made his way to the door, you sat there for a moment watching him walk away before getting up and following behind him. You silently took a seat on the stool at the counter watching as Carmy began cleaning the remaining breakfast dishes.

The stretch of his back muscles under the tank top he was wearing was a sight to see. It surprised you a bit how toned Carmy was considering he lived and breathed being a chef, you didn’t expect him to have free time to worry about his physique. 

You waited as Carmy finished sending him a small smile as he finally faced you. He made his way to you, the two of you separated by the counter, his forearms resting on the counter accentuated his toned biceps.

“I actually need to go to the farmer’s market today,” you waited to see if there was anything more he had to say but the silence drew on.

“Oh, I can stay here, I have work to finish.” You gestured your hand to the laptop not far from the two of you, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“Did you maybe wanna join me,” Carmy waited for your response, eyes darting around your face hoping you would say yes.

“Do you…want me to join you?” You could laugh, the two of you sitting here beating around the bush like two teenagers. 

You waited as you took in Carmy’s shy demeanor, the blush rising from his neck, you were tempted to point it out but didn’t want him to close himself off like you were used to. 

“I want you to come with me to the farmers market.” Carmy made sure to look you in the eyes as the words left his mouth, sure that he was red in the face but wanting you to know how much he wanted to spend time with you. 

The two of you stared at each other for a while, the toothy grin on your face mirroring the his smaller one. The small nod of your head was everything Carmy needed to see for his heartbeat to calm down. He watched as you giddily got up from your seat presumably to get ready.

“Oh um did you do something with my clothes?” The smile didn’t seem to be leaving your face anytime soon.

Carmy cleared his throat hand raising to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah I, uh I washed them, they’re in my closet.” 

You couldn’t deny that those words made your heart pick up speed a bit, the idea of feeling giddy that your clothes were in Carmy’s closet was a bit childish, but you would take what you could get at this point. 

“Oh, okay I’ll just go get ready then.” Your hand gestured to the room behind you.

“Yeah,” Carmy couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of you getting ready in his apartment, it was almost like he could pretend this was his reality.

“Yeah,” you didn’t know why you were acting like a love-struck teenager but Carmy just brought it out of you.

“Okay,” Carmy nodded his head signaling you to take your leave.

“Oka-.”

“Baby just go get fucking ready.” A huff of laughter escaped Carmy at the way you were acting.

Carmy stood by the counter watching as you ran off to prepare yourself for the day. He couldn’t stop the smile from gracing his lips as he listened to your melodic laughter sing through the emptiness of his apartment.

You had split from Carmy a few booths back, the two of you deciding it was for the best. Your constant wandering off to booths that intrigued you put Carmy in a panic when he would look to see you no longer at his side. 

It was your first time in New York and you were just happy to take in this small portion of what the city had to offer. The farmer’s market here was similar to the ones you’d been to back home, though the weather would take some getting used to, not like you needed to. You’d be back in Chicago before you knew it. 

You found a small flea market-type area towards the back of the farmers market. Vendors gathered around selling handmade items and keepsakes. A few minutes into your perusal of the area you found a vendor selling handmade clothing items. A pretty cami dress caught your eye that the vendor exclaimed you just had to have, and who were you to turn down a beautiful dress selling for a decent price in the streets of New York.

With the dress nicely tucked away into a paper bag gently swinging from your arm, you decided it was time to make your way back to the entrance of the farmers market and wait for Carmy. On your journey back you stopped at a vendor selling handmade leather goods, a particular leather wallet drawing your attention.

The familiarity of it caused you to let loose a shuddering breath, the small item reminded you of Mikey’s wallet. Although his was more used, worn in. Standing on this street and looking down at the pristine wallet in front of you was almost like looking at a replica.

You remembered asking him once why he chose to use the ratty old thing and the smart-ass response he had given you. The fact that an inanimate object that had no ties to Mikey was causing this sort of reaction inside you, felt too real, it felt like grief was prepared to sink its claws into you. 

And you couldn’t allow it, because you were in New York finally on somewhat good terms with Carmy. And Mikey would be waiting for your return to Chicago, eager to hear about your time with his little brother. 

“Would you like to buy it, miss?” Your eyes found the vendors, a forced smile tracing your lips.

You slowly shook your head feeling a little bad for turning down goods from a small business, you just didn’t need the wallet, especially not one that would remind you of him every day.

The walk back to the farmers market felt melancholy: the promise to yourself to compartmentalize Mikey and his situation was becoming harder the more time you spent alone. Your search for Carmy became more urgent the longer you couldn’t find him. The racing images of Mikey’s casket swirling with your recent moments spent in Carmy’s presence. 

You didn’t want to burden Carmy with the debilitating thoughts you were having, not wanting to ruin the good thing the two of you had going. Neither of you brought up the elephant in the room and it seemed like neither of you was going to. The both of you content to live in momentary bliss for the time you had together. 

It felt like you were spiraling and all because of some stupid too similar fucking wallet. You finally made your way to the entrance of the market hoping Carmy would know to look for you there.

Carmy gathered the ingredients necessary for the dinner he planned for tonight, luckily for him the restaurant was closed on Sundays so he could spend the day with you. 

He still wasn’t sure that any of this was real. You showing up outside his apartment at two in the morning, holding you as you slept, and now adventuring out to the market he frequented, it all felt like a dream.

There was one last stop Carmy needed to make before he met up with you. He made his way to the old flower vendor who was always the first one here to ensure he set up a show at the entrance. Carmy had his fair share of conversations with the man but had never actually bought any flowers off of him, but today was the day that changed. 

“Carmen is that you?” Carmy raised his head from the flowers he was glancing at, the old man sitting on the stool smiling his way.

“Yes sir. How you doing today Willie?” Carmy wasn’t much into friends or acquaintances since the two of you parted ways all those years ago, but Willie was a special case. Always kind, on Carmy’s first visit to this particular market the older man had explained to him the layout and gave him insider information about what times were best to come to ensure he got the freshest ingredients from each vendor. 

“You thinking about buying something today son?” The older man rose from his seated position plopping the paper he was reading in his place.

Carmy nodded eyes going back to the various flowers to choose from. This wasn’t Carmy, he had never done something like this, not willingly at least. But he knew flowers could symbolize different things, and have different meanings. And if he couldn’t figure out how to be straightforward and speak with you, maybe a hand-picked bouquet could solve that issue. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” He glanced at Willie, a slight frown marring his face, he genuinely had no idea.

Carmy chuckled, hand raising to scratch the nape of his neck, “I’m not sure Willie.” He felt a little embarrassed. How was he to translate his feelings to you through horticulture if he knew nothing about flowers and their meanings.

“Well help me out boy, tell me who they’re for an maybe I can whip something up for you.” It was like perfect timing as Carmy heard your voice trickling into his ears. You were standing on the other side of the entrance phone to your ear as you spoke to somebody, a look of exhaustion on your features.

Carmy’s eyes caught yours as you glanced in his direction, he watched that beautiful smile appear as you quickly ended the call with whoever you were talking to, smile mirroring yours as you two stared at each other across the distance. Your hand raised in a shy wave smile growing wider as Carmy reciprocated the gesture. 

“Now Carmen, why didn’t you tell me these were for your old lady,” Carmy’s head shot around to find Willie smirking at him from his side of the booth. “Is that the young lady in that picture you keep in your wallet?” 

Carmy watched frozen, as Willie moved around his booth, trying his best to figure out when the older man had ever caught a glance at the picture of you two. “Uh, she’s just a friend sir.” 

“Listen, boy, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. And I know you betta not be lying to that pretty girl over there.” The flowers in Willie’s hand were used to point in your direction. 

“I saw the way she looked at you just now son, that girl is in love,” Carmy listened as Willie began constructing the bouquet, ears tuned to what the man was saying. 

“I’ll give it to you straight boy, you’re gonna regret every chance you didn’t take with that young lady. Now I don’t know the situation between you two, but what I do know is that you look at that girl like she invented oxygen, I know because that’s how I looked at my Debbie.” Carmy was raptly intrigued with Willie’s words, watching the sad smile take over his lips as he mentioned his recently deceased wife.

“And from our interactions you don’t seem to me like the type to let rare opportunities pass you by,” the bouquet seemed to be pretty much finished, the older man just putting the final touches. “Now you give that pretty young lady this here bouquet, you make her a nice dinner like I’m sure you planned. And you let her know how much you appreciate her.” 

Carmy nodded his head rapidly trying to take in everything the older man said. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Willie wave you over to them.

“Excuse me miss? Why don’t you come on over here and join us.” Carmy could feel the panic rising within him.

“N- Willie No don-.”

“Hush up boy and introduce me to your lovely girl.” You stopped next to Carmy eyes widening as you took in the unknown man's words. 

You looked at Carmy as he brought his hand up to swipe across his mouth, a tight-lipped smile lining his lips afterwards.

“Hi sweetie I’m Willie Carmen’s only friend in this city,” you laughed as the man winked at you before holding his hand out listening as you introduced yourself. 

“It’s nice to meet you Willie, you have some beautiful flowers, do you harvest them yourself?” The man in front of you waved off the compliment with a serene smile on his face.

“My wife and I started selling at this market 20 years ago. This is my first year without her.” The smile on your lips faltered as you offered your condolences.

“Now I don’t wanna keep you too long, but this bouquet here is for you to miss.” You looked at Carmy before your eyes found Willie’s again, your cheeks warming at what the man was insinuating. 

“Oh um, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Your wallet was out and ready in your hand, Carmy’s hand shooting out to stop you as he thrust money forward. 

“Y’all put that money away now,” Willie shook his head scoffing at the idea of either of you paying.

He held out the bouquet in your direction, the smile lining his face urged you to take it. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful bouquet, the colorful assortment helping to ease the foreboding feeling you had earlier. 

“Our friend Carmen here chose each of those flowers,” you looked in Carmy’s direction, the blush on his face so endearing to you. “I went on ahead and tucked a card in there with their meanings. You two make a fine pair, don’t let life get in the way of the love you share, you hear me?”

You nodded avoiding Carmy’s eyes like your life depended on it, easily listening to the wisdom Willie was bestowing upon the two of you. 

“The world is kind but she is also cruel. She will take away the things we love even if we’re not ready to part with them. Love each other loudly and with no regrets, it's always good to see young love prosper.”  The sad look in Willie’s eyes pulled at your heartstrings, you stood there wondering if he had any regrets. 

The clearing of Carmy’s throat finally drew your attention from the wise older man in front of you. “Thank you Willie really, but we should be heading home.” 

Willie nodded a pleasant smile on his lips, “Damn right! The two of you holdin up my business.” The older man shooed the two of you off a chuckle followed his gesture. 

“It was nice meeting you Willie, thank you again for the beautiful bouquet.” You sent him one last wave before you and Carmy moved away from the booth.

“It’s a gorgeous bouquet Carmy,” you glanced over the flowers before your eyes locked with Carmy’s, a loving smile splitting your face. 

Carmy smiled, unconsciously reaching out to move a stray piece of hair from your eyes, hurriedly dropping his hand and clearing his throat. “Let’s get them home and into some water yeah?” Carmy’s eyes darted around doing his best not to stare at you for too long.

You looked down trying to hide your smile, the word ‘home’ filled you with warmth. Your hand reached out to intertwine his with your own, avoiding Carmy’s eyes as they finally focused on you, “Lead the way.”

The gentle squeeze of your hand in Carmy’s made you smile, the two of you making your way back to his apartment. Neither of you mentioned holding hands as you journeyed home, just like neither of you said anything as you melted into his safe embrace on the subway ride.

The two of you entered the small apartment, your laughs filtering through the hallway and into the entranceway. A run-in with Carmy’s neighbor across the hall was responsible for the now-dying laughter between the two of you.

“Is she always like that?” You stopped allowing Carmy to help you out of your jacket before he hung it up. You turned to him, taking the bags out of his hand as you made your way to the kitchen. Setting them on the counter before searching for something to hold your flowers. 

Carmy followed behind you after removing his own coat, hands falling to your waist as he moved around you to unload the few groceries he had gotten for tonight. “She uh, airdropped me a nude once, so right now was pretty tame I guess.” 

Your headshot to Carmy’s everything in you holding back the laugh that was desperately trying to escape. “Poor girl. Did you send one back?” You nudged your elbow into his watching as the blush on his cheeks deepened.

He maneuvered around you trying to ignore your teasing, “God no, we uh went out for drinks once, it was cool.” 

The crumbs he was giving you surprised you, “And nothing like came out of that?”

“I dunno was something supposed to?” Carmy made sure not to give you direct attention, mortified that he was even having this conversation with you in his kitchen.

“Well did you want it to?” You didn’t know why you had latched onto this topic of conversation so hard, it reminded you of the times Carmy would ramble to you about Claire. And if you were just spending the weekend with a friend wasn’t this the type of conversation you should be engaging in? 

Carmy turned to you as you finally found a glass big enough to support the bouquet, he watched as you filled the glass with water before trimming the stems. “Not with her, no.”

You looked up to see Carmy finally looking at you with a serious expression painting his flushed face. You couldn’t help it as your eyes dropped to his lips, clocking the subtle peak of his tongue poking out as he wet his lips. 

Carmy made his way towards you, Willie's words from earlier bouncing around in his head. He pulled the flower from your hand and placed it in the large glass he wasn’t even aware he had. He cleared his throat hoping he had enough confidence to get these words out.

“I’m gonna start on dinner, and you’re gonna go get ready,” his hand came up to hold the left side of your jaw, finger finding the spot behind your ear he always took special care to remember. “I want you to put on that pretty little dress you were gushing about on the way home.” Carmy stopped watching as you nodded your head showing that you were paying attention.

“Can you do that for me?” His eyes traced your face looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable.

Your lidded eyes lazily blinked up at him a quiet ‘yes’ escaped through your parted lips. A small smile rested on Carmy’s lips as he leaned in to plant a delicate kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a moment too long.

He reluctantly removed himself from you waiting for you to scurry off. Surprised when you took a step closer to him and leaned in, a gentle press of your lips connecting to the corner of his. Carmy watched as you pulled away and smiled at him before taking your leave.

Carmy stood in his kitchen for a minute, heart racing as he realized what he had just done. The only place Carmy had ever been in control was in the kitchen, so maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take control in that moment, well that and Willie’s lecture.

He was sure it would never happen again as he began preparing the ingredients for the lasagna he planned to make for the two of you. 

You and Carmy had switched places a few minutes ago after he walked in on you wrapped in a towel and profusely apologized  for almost a whole minute. You easily slipped into your dress while Carmy was in the shower. 

As you walked into the living room you could smell the delicious aroma of the cuisine Carmy prepared for the two of you. You were glad to be out of Carmy’s presence for the time being, your brain doing its best to process the moment the two of you had shared in the kitchen. 

The cold shower you took did nothing to calm down the feelings swirling around inside you. You had never seen Carmy so in control of anything in his life, the demanding tone he used with you earlier almost had you making a fool of yourself right there in his kitchen. 

A constant beep coming from the oven drew your attention, you quickly made your way to the kitchen grabbing a towel to remove the hot dish from its place resting in the oven. You couldn’t help but marvel at the pretty lasagna in your hands. It was a bit weird to describe food as pretty, but the presentation was generally pleasing to the eyes.

You walked to the countertop to set the dish down, turning to search through the kitchen for plates and utensils. Having a slightly hard time as you had no idea where anything was located at.

“Baby?” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, not having heard him make his approach. 

You turned in his direction, a light laugh leaving your lips. It was a bit comical, the two of you dressed nicely, feet bare in his New York apartment. You took in his appearance biting your lip as you spotted his chain that encouraged you to do sinful things. He was dressed in probably the only slacks he owned, the ankles cuffed since he wasn’t wearing shoes. The deep green crew neck hugging his body was similar in color to the dress you were wearing, the unexpected matching caused another laugh to leave your lips. 

The box in his hand finally caught your attention, it appeared to be a present of some sort. You pointed at it with the random spoon you had picked up while searching for cutlery. 

“What’s that?” You furrowed your brows as you watched Carmy revert to his usual shy self. 

He held the gift out to you, “Go ahead, open it.” Your hand brushed his as you took the box from his hold feeling a bit giddy at the unsolicited gift.

Carmy held his breath as he watched you open a five-year-old gift in his kitchen. You looked beautiful and he wanted to tell you but couldn’t seem to force the words out too enthralled with the intimate atmosphere that had been surrounding the two of you since earlier in the kitchen. 

Carmy was a fool for leaving you the morning after Christmas and knowing that he let Mikey down when it came to you haunted him. He was glad to have these days with you, it wasn’t healthy but the two of you were providing a distraction for each other. 

“Carmy oh my goodness,” the gasp of your breath brought Carmy back to reality. His cheeks warmed at seeing you so happy. “How much did this even cost you, these things are like relics.” Your eyes flashed to the smile on your face seeming to brighten up the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter, I bought this for Christmas and just…I never sent it.” He was prepared for you to scold him for his stupidity, tell him you didn’t care for the gift, and that you couldn’t play pretend with him anymore. 

The press of your warm body against his surprised him, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding onto you so tightly scared that if he let you go then you would disappear and he’d realize this weekend was just a dream.

“I love it Carmy really, thank you.” Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as the two of you gazed into each other's eyes. 

“Can I,” Carmy paused a laugh escaping his lips at the similarities between this moment and a past one you shared. “Can I kiss you?” 

You wasted no time before you leaned forward pressing a sweet kiss into his lips lingering for a moment to translate the love you felt for him. Carmy’s hand moved up to your jaw, keeping you locked in place against him, his tongue slipping out to caress your bottom lip.

You slowly opened your mouth allowing him in, the softness of his tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth. The kiss was slow, sensual, all the pent-up emotions being shared between the two of you. 

The rhythm Carmy set was easy for you to follow along with, you took the chance to suck on his tongue a bit, losing yourself in the feelings this one kiss was bringing forth.

You parted from Carmy reluctantly, a small smile raised to your lips as you watched him chase you for more. A soft moan escaped you as he began decorating kisses down your jaw and to your neck, tilting your head back to allow him better access, surprise painting your features as he raised you to sit on his counter. 

Carmy continued to study you with his lips, tracing down your pulse point and across your collarbone. It would never be enough for him, he would never be able to satisfy his hunger for you no matter how much of your skin his lips could paint. 

The soft whimpers snatched from your lips going straight to his groin, his hips unconsciously canting against your leg that was in perfect alignment. 

“Touch me Carmy…please,” Carmy swore he could cum from the sound of your begging alone.

But he stopped his ministrations, the realization that he had no idea what he was doing hitting him like a ton of bricks. 

You watched as Carmy pulled away from you chest rapidly puffing up and down as the confusion swept across your face. “Carmy?” Your voice trailed off you couldn’t help the hurt you were feeling, here you were sitting atop Carmy’s kitchen counter dress hiked up to your waist the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear in full view, the straps of your dress pulled down precariously low that the top of your areolas was peeking out. 

You quickly adjusted the top of your dress before hopping off the counter and pulling down the hem. Eyes filling with tears as you were brought back to prom night, memories re-playing all the hurt that came after it. 

Carmy’s head shot up from its place in his hands the tears in your waterline and the way you had shrunken into yourself making him feel like a complete fucking asshole.

“Shit no Baby…I-Fuck!” Carmy watched as you jolted a little at the shout of his voice, he was fucking this up more than it already was.

“Hey, hey,” he closed the distance between the two of you, raising his hands to your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Baby, I-I’m sorry it's just…I don’t,” Carmy took a deep breath trying to gain his bearings. “I’ve never done this stuff before.” 

Carmy’s eyes followed the emotions crossing your face, a frown painting your face before your eyes widened and your lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’. 

“Carmy…have you never been intimate with anyone before?” Carmy knew your question wasn’t teasing or malicious but he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed at having to admit this to you. 

“I uh, you were my first kiss…and my second kiss just now,” Carmy hung his head in shame, blush rising from his neck to stain his cheeks. 

“Oh my goodness I’m such an asshole,” Carmy looked up at you a chuckle escaping him at your declaration. Your hand reached out to rest against his cheek thumb caressing back and forth. “Carmy I thought you were rejecting me.” Now it was your turn to feel shameful, your first thoughts being selfish ones as opposed to waiting to hear Carmy’s explanation. 

Carmy’s hand came up to grip yours on his cheek, head turning to place a soft kiss on your pulse point. “Let’s sit and eat, yeah?” Carmy waited for your response, smiling at you as you nodded. “I wanna spend as much time together as we can.” 

You pulled him into a sweet kiss, his hands squeezing your waist at the feeling of being able to freely kiss you “I’d like that.” You pulled away the two of you sharing bright smiles as you moved to have the dinner Carmy had so lovingly planned out.

Neither of you pointed out the fact that things would be coming to an end for you two tomorrow, but you’d bask in this loving atmosphere for all the remaining time you two had together. 

You could feel soft lips pressing into the space behind your left ear, your first instinct was worry. Confused by the warm body pressed into you from behind strong arms gripping your waist as though you would disappear at a moment's notice. The memories of the last day with Carmy led you to relax.

A quiet sniffle finally woke you up enough, your eyes opening to the dimly lit room. A familiar head of hair tucked snuggly into your neck, and slight huffs of breaths could be heard.

“Carmy?” The raspiness of your morning voice echoed around the room, you could hear the breathing quiet down a bit, concern spiking in you. 

You began turning wanting to comfort the man you had been in love with for most of your life, it was a struggle as the arms around you tightened but you finally turned to your side Carmy burying his face in your t-shirt-clad chest.

“Carmy, honey,” the lack of response was beginning to worry you, you had shared your fair share of cries with Carmy throughout your friendship but considering the circumstances that brought you together this time around, you couldn’t help but freak out a bit. “Hey, hey look at me yeah?”

“I-I just need a minute please.” The crack of Carmy’s voice went straight to your heart. He maneuvered so the top of his body was laying on your chest and stomach, his lower body settling gently between your legs. 

You leaned forward pressing a lingering kiss to his head before lying back down and slowly stroking your fingers through his hair, wanting to make him as comfortable in this moment as you could. You were content to hold him all day if that’s what he needed.

The two of you laid like that for a while, Carmy’s breathing and sniffling calming down after a few minutes. You watched as Carmy propped himself up on his elbows, pressing a small kiss into the fabric of your shirt over your stomach, a small smile rising to your lips as you watched him.

“Talk to me, Carm?” You watched as he looked up to you, pretty blue eyes swollen from the tears he’d been shedding. 

Carmy moved up a little resting his cheek against your sternum arms wrapped tightly around you, “Uhh, Sug called, said Mikey left something for me.” 

It was quiet as you let his words sink in, a shuddering sigh leaving you as your hands unconsciously began running back through Carmy’s hair. 

You felt Carmy’s hand slip under the shirt of his you were borrowing, fingers gliding across the skin of your stomach lazily tracing circles. The small gesture helped to relax you a bit.

“Did she say anything else?” Your fingernails softly scratched into Carmy’s scalp, the two of you trying to touch each other as much as you possibly could.

Carmy’s chuckle drew your attention, “She uh, asked me to come home.”

Your nails stopped for a minute before you started up again, heart jumping a little in your chest at the idea of Carmy coming back to Chicago, “Are you…going to go home?” The hope in your voice borders on desperation.

Carmy was silent for a moment, hands moving to lift your shirt just underneath your breast before he placed his warm cheek back in its previous position. The news skin-on-skin contact sends chills through both of you. 

“Everything with Mikey kinda made me think about us.” Carmy’s thumb came up, to caress against your rib, dangerously close to your breast. “It just kind of puts into perspective that the people you care about can be here one day…and gone the next.”

The avoidance of your original question was not lost on you, but Carmy opening up may have been better than whatever argument the initial qualm might impose. 

“Baby I-,” you looked at Carmy as he adjusted his position one hand resting against your sternum, his chin plopping onto it. “I um.” He stopped, you followed his movements watching as his eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

“For a while, I’ve known that I feel something for you, but I-I don’t think I can give you what you want.” Your hand slipped from his hair to cup his cheek, hanging on to every word leaving his lips.

Carmy leaned into the palm of your hand, letting himself melt into your touch, cherishing the few moments he had left with you. “And I can’t promise any commitment after today.” The rapid beating of Carmy’s chest could be felt on your stomach, the crack in his voice raising a small smile to your lips. 

You sat up in bed. Carmy looked up at you as you held his chin in your hand, thumb softly tracing his lips as you committed his features to memory. The tiny scars marring his face, the few beauty marks dotted around, connecting them would create a new constellation you swore you’d remember forever. 

Carmy was honest with you, and that’s all you asked of him. Neither of you could promise each other a happy ending after you parted ways and while that hurt, it didn’t make sense to ruin the remaining time the two of you had left dwelling on the future.

“Carmen,” you waited for him to lock eyes with you, a sad smile spread across your features, tears you could no longer hold back coming forth. “I know.” 

Carmy’s lips pressed into your thumb before he gently cupped your neck and reached up so your lips connected. This was only the third kiss the two of you shared, but the intangible love and intimacy that could be felt through the single press of your lips would never dwindle, not for as long as the two of you surrounded yourself with each other.

He raised to his knees both hands entrapping your face, all his passion being poured into this one kiss. Carmy was slightly above you now, the angle forcing you to raise your head to stay connected. His thumb began unconsciously caressing the ‘B’ behind your left ear, a small part of you that had stuck with him ever since he discovered it five years ago.

The kiss intensified as you slipped your tongue between his lips, hands gripping onto his hips as he towered above you in this position. Your tongue moved languidly inside his mouth, small noises escaping the both of you.

Carmy pulled the hair at the nape of your neck, the motion removing your lips from his. “Did you mean what you said?” His breath left him in a huff.

“What?” You were slightly out of breath yourself, confused at what the hell Carmy was on about. 

“What you said about this,” his thumb swiped back and forth against the ‘B’ inked into your skin. “Would you take my last name?” 

You bit your lip, eyes lidded as you searched Carmy’s face, hand moving to grip his soft chin between your forefinger and thumb raising onto your knees so the two of you were eye level.

“Would you like that Carmen? If I let you give me your last name?” A patronizing smile graced your lips, the air between you charged. 

Carmy surged forward hungry for a taste of you, his hands gripped your hair to tug on it a strangled gasp leaving you. The strength with which Carmy took your lips into his forcing your back into the mattress beneath you two, his body hovering over yours. 

Your hand left its place on his chin sliding down to his shoulders caressing the little skin his tank top allowed you to feel. Hands traveling across his chest, the feeling of his toned body under your palms making you needy. You finally made it to the hem of his shirt tugging it up to give you access to the warm skin of his torso.

Carmy parted from you, snatching the shirt over his head before diving back in. Lips leading him to his favorite feature of yours. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him flush against you, Carmy’s lips ravished your neck as he nipped from your jawline down to your pulse point, teeth sinking in a bit harder.

“Fuck Carmy.” The delicious feeling of Carmen's body against yours, his lips exploring you, hands gripping the skin of your revealed waist. All of it led to the thrust of your hips up into his, it was selfish but you needed him, not that you would force him but whatever he would give you would have to be enough.

Carmy’s sharp intake of breath drew your attention as his hips relentlessly ground into you, hand wandering up your shirt to cup your breast thumb accidentally tracing your nipple. 

Your loud gasp alarmed him. He quickly parted from you saliva connected your lips together as you both took in each other’s disheveled appearances.

“Did I-did I do something wrong?” Sweet Carmy worried that he had ruined the moment. 

You sat up rapidly shaking your head as you stared into his eyes, the both of you breathing heavily, “No, no it was great I promise.”

Carmy nodded gently tracing your jawline as he looked at you, “Baby…I want this moment with you.” The mumble made your heart race, this was a big deal it would change whatever this relationship between the two of you was. 

“Carmy…we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” You searched his eyes hoping he didn’t feel pressured by the noises you were making.

“Have you…done this before?” Carmy forced himself to keep looking at you regardless of the blush he could feel painting his cheeks.

The small nod you gave relieved him a bit, “Does that bother you?” You didn’t think Camry would mind but you knew the male species could be unpredictable. 

“God no, I just don’t wanna disappoint you.” He finally looked away from you embarrassed to have admitted something so personal. 

“You won’t.” You sent him a small smile before guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt helping him to pull it over your head. Watching his beautiful face take in everything you had to offer him. 

His throat bobbed as he took in a large gulp, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, proving you’d have to take the reins on this one, not that you minded. The thought of telling Carmy how to pleasure you warmed you up even more. 

Your finger reached out to lift Carmy’s chin, directing his eyes to yours, “What do you want to do to me, Carmen?” 

You watched as he blinked eyes tracing your figure, “I just wanna appreciate you, Baby.” The words left his lips in a whisper.

You were taken aback never having heard that before while being intimate. His hands slowly settled on your waist, the safest option “How should I…do that.”

You smiled moving one of his hands to cup your breast, shuddering at the skin-to-skin contact, “We can start with kissing, then I want you to do whatever feels right okay?”

Carmy nodded, giving your breast a slight squeeze a whimper drawing out of you, taking account of your reaction he gently began rubbing his thumb across your pebbled nipple watching your body writhe at the small action. 

He leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss into your forehead, lips moving to your left cheek then your right. A small kiss pressed into each of your closed eyelids and the tip of your nose. Each corner of your lips got its turn before his lips found the space between your nose and upper lip. One more kiss pressed into your chin before finally ending with a sweet kiss to your lips, cherishing every inch of your face he had kissed.

Carmy made his way to your jawline, starting at the right side and tracing to your left, nipping every so often as he continued his journey. Lips slowly tracing from your jawline to your neck, he wasn’t sure what it was but seeing your neck on display for him made him feral, his hips grinding into your as he decorated your neck in love bites. 

“Lay down f’me.” You eagerly listened watching as Carmy planted another soft kiss into your lips before following the map of your collarbones. Lips pressing into your upper chest as both hands came up to softly knead your breast. 

You could feel Carmy’s hard-on pressing against you, as much as you were enjoying this, all you wanted in the world was to finally please Carmy. You slipped your hand between your bodies sliding into the waistband of his boxers, hand gripping him as a strangled moan parted his lips. The soft caress of your hand against him caused his head to spin, this felt different from the times he would stroke himself thinking about you.

“Does this feel good, Carmy?” Your voice was a little deeper, more sensual as you questioned him. “Do you wish it was me making you cum on those lonely nights, hmm?

“Fuck…yes.” The whine of his voice went straight to your core, spurring you on more. 

Your strokes became a little firmer, applying more pressure to provide him more pleasure. His length twitched against your palm the more you rubbed. Carmy had lost all sense of his own ministrations grinding into your hand while still on top of you, he could feel himself close to ecstasy the feel of your warm body underneath him making him lose all control.

“Ba-Baby stop.” You froze immediately forcing your hormones under wrap, Carmy’s comfortability your priority. 

“Are you okay Carm?” The worry in your voice was obvious as you removed your hand from its grip on him. 

“Ye-yeah, I just want to please you right now.” Carmy’s hand moved to grip your rib cage thumb running back and forth against your under boob, “Can I continue showing my appreciation.” The slight desperation in his voice caused you to rapidly nod your head. 

Carmy gave you a small shy smile, moving to kiss the spot he had been tracing during this time. His lips painted across your whole torso, paying extra attention to your stomach, ideas he wasn’t ready to give merit to racing through his mind as he did so.

Finally, he paused at your hips, the solid cotton panties you wore obscured his path, nose caressing the front of your panties as he took in a deep breath allowing your aroma to invade his senses. “Are you going to take off my panties, Carmy?” The condescending tone in your voice went straight to his throbbing cock.

He nodded, wasting no time in peeling the fabric from its home around your hips, ready to replace it with his bare hands. Carmy raised to his haunches, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of your naked body sprawled so prettily across his bed. All of you on show just for him.

Carmy returned to his previous task lips pressing wet delicate kisses into each of your hips bones, a lingering one placed at the base of your pelvis before turning his attention to your thighs. Lips trailing down your leg special attention paid to the crook of your knees and ankles. 

Carmy’s eyes found yours as he placed the last kiss on your right ankle, both of your pupils blown from the sequence of events that had just taken place. 

You beckoned Carmy forward urging him to find you once again. As he drew closer you grabbed one of his hands placing it on your right breast before moving it down so it caressed the rest of your torso, and down your pelvis finally stopping before the place you needed his touch most.

This was your way of giving him an out, the two of you could stop right here if he wanted to, the slight nod of his head told you otherwise. 

Your grip on his hand changed as you grabbed his forefinger and middle finger, your free hand parting your lower lips as you traced his fingers through your slick, a filthy moan escaping into the bedroom as Carmy’s calloused fingers finally stroked you.

“Do you feel that Carmy?” He nodded his head, eyes not leaving yours for a minute. “It's all for you, you made me feel this good.” 

You moved his fingers lower watching his face as you glided his two fingers into you, biting your lower lip at the hunger in you that was finally being tended to.

Carmy’s mouth fell open as he watched the ecstasy wash over your face, lost in the feeling of touching you in the most intimate way he had ever touched anyone before. His head dropped, eyes watching as you slowly swallowed his fingers, in and out the movement making him achingly hard. 

Carmy’s lips dropped to your ear a shy whisper caressing your ear, “I want to be inside you.” The vulnerability in Carmy’s voice caused you to bite your lip, satisfied that he was finally speaking up about what he wanted. 

“You are.” You teased him, clenching around his digits as his eyes drank you in.

You let out a whine as he removed his fingers from your grip, hand pressing your hip into the bed as he stared you down. “Please…I want this…with you.” The words unsaid weighing heavily between you two.  

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You watched as he slipped out of his boxers, stroking himself as you watched and waited for your instructions. You motioned for him to lay atop you more noses brushing as he got into position, “I’ll guide you, but I need you to go slow okay, it’ll be a tight fit.” 

Carmy nodded his head, neither of you daring to ask about any contraception too lost in the thoughts of finally connecting in ways the two of you had only dreamed of.

You would come to regret the consequences of this decision later.

A smile split your lips before you surged up to capture Carmy’s lips, needing to distract yourself.

You guided him to your entrance only allowing the tip to go in to not overwhelm Carmy. Your mouth fell open in the shape of an ‘o’ as Carmy eagerly thrust into you, your hand raised to his shoulder to stop his movements.

“Carm, slowly, please.” His eyes met yours taking in the slight pain that his intrusion had caused, he nodded hand raising to cup your cheek.

“You look so beautiful like this.” A tender moment was shared between the two of you as you urged Carmy to continue his journey, shuddered moans escaping the both of you as he reached the hilt.

The feeling of finally being full with Carmy made you emotional, both of you just taking a moment to gaze at each other. Appreciating the finality of this all, Carmy leaned down to kiss a tear running down your cheek that escaped, his own eyes welling up, neither of you could find the right words to cement how much this moment meant to the two of you.

Carmy pulsed inside you the movement caused you to clench around him, “You did so good for me Carmy.” The praise went straight to his cock, eyes rolling back at how good a few words made him feel. 

“Can you move for me, Carm, it’ll make us both feel good.” The soft thrust of his hips was enough for you. 

He continued the slow motion of his hips, eyes connected with yours as the ghost of those three words he struggled to say filtered between the two of you. Your hand raised to wipe the single tear sliding down his cheek.

Nothing in the world could take this moment from the two of you. If Aphrodite could tell the story of your love she would describe it as a tangible heartbreaking thing always growing, and most times fleeting. Something both you and Carmy could touch, feel, and breathe. The love filtering between the two of you was clear as day to anyone who had a heart. 

The warm muscular hand pressed into the flesh of your hip bone driving you crazy. The fingers pressed into you harder and harder with each accompanying thrust. One hand pressed into the pillow by your head keeping the body atop of you from crushing you under its weight. You appreciated the cautionary position, but you had longed for this connection for what felt like ages and you would gladly welcome the weight of the perspiring chest burying you further into the mattress.

A golden gleam caught your eye taking you away from how the tattooed knuckles flexed against your hip every few seconds. You looked to see his golden chain dangling back and forth above your face, taunting you. The sway of the metal matched the rocking motion of his hips, the synchronicity of the two things driving you absolutely wild. Eyes concentrated on the gold chain it was almost like a switch was flipped in you and the catalyst was that fucking gold chain.

Your eyes moved to his face, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. You parted your lips his intense gaze causing you to clench down on him unconsciously, his eyes rolling back as his hand left its spot on your hip traveling up your torso thumb softly brushing over your nipple as it found its destination cupping your cheek with such intensity you were sure the shape of his thumb would be imprinted onto your jaw.

His eyes found yours once more, his thumb moving a few inches to softly caress your bottom lip. Your mouth opened on instinct to leisurely suck on his digit a hoarse ‘Fuck’ leaving the warm body that was making you feel so good. You released his thumb, feeling it tug at your bottom lip as his hand found its way back to your cheek.

You watched him above you, the ecstasy in his eyes warming your skin, you’d do anything to be able to please him if he always looked at you in that way. The flash of gold from his chain caught your attention again, the angle of his thrust causing you to gasp, a softly whispered moan of “Carmy,” leaving your lips. Carmy’s chain hovered above your open mouth begging to be taken between your teeth, you appeased your desires, your tongue latching onto the chain as you brought it to settle between your teeth. Carmy’s hips fucking into you at a slightly faster pace, your leg wrapping around his waist the heel of your foot pressing into his back to bring the two of you impossibly closer. 

“Fuck-Baby, shit!” Watching Carmy struggle for words had never been as sexy as it was at that moment. Knowing that you were the cause of his incoherent muttering. 

“Please, Carmy,” another gasp ripped through you, your teeth losing hold of Carmy’s signature gold chain. “Mmm yes, Carmen. Just like that.” You settled for whispering in his ear, the new position you had chosen had his head resting against your collarbone, his ear directly next to your mouth. You could feel Carmy’s hand moving from your cheek to clench your jaw between his thumb and remaining fingers. His hand moved your head to reveal your neck the feeling of soft wet kisses making a path to your ear, Carmy’s thrust slowing slightly.

You could feel his breath against your cheek, the soft whine he let out as your cunt clenched around him. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “Say that again.” His rough voice traveled through you, the thumping of your clit beating faster and faster.

“Just like that.” You moaned wanting to please him as much as he wanted to please you. 

His fingers dug into your chin, the roughness of his touch causing a high-pitched moan to leave your lips. “Sa-say my name?” The request made your head spin.

“Carm-,” Carmy’s hand returned to its earlier position holding himself above you causing your leg to drop back to the bed.

“N-no,” the strain in his voice was evident as he tilted your head down to stare directly into your eyes. “M-my name sa-say it. Please.” 

You bit your lip his whiny plea going straight to your clit. Your hand reachesdup to match his fingers gripping his chin firmly. Your blown pupils searching his wide doe eyes. It was hard to distinguish where the blue began and the black ended. Your faces were inches apart, you could tell from his breathing that your grip on his chin stirred something inside him. The soft rocking of his hips into yours caused your bottom lips to caress each other in the rhythm he had set.

“Carmen.” The syllables of his name left your mouth in a wanton moan, there was a moment where the thrusting of Carmy’s hips came to a slow stop before he surged forward and messily captured your lips in a kiss full of tongues and moans. Carmy’s hips began rutting into yours, the speed and intensity sending you both into a spiral. Your hand lost its grip on his chin to slither between your bodies matching Carmy’s pace and applying it to your clit. 

The grip on your chin was gone as Carmy’s hand followed the path yours had previously taken sending a soft squeeze to your breast. “Te-teach me how.” God you could’ve cum from that sentence alone. You began rapidly nodding your head before placing your hand atop his own guiding his index and middle finger into generously massaging your clit. 

“Car-Carmen, don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your voice leaves you in a sharp cry.

“Yeah? Is this good?” Your unabashed moan did more to answer Carmy’s question than any words could.

“Carmeee, I’m gonna come, please.” The banging of the headboard against the wall an indication of just how fast Carmy was thrusting into you.

“Whe-where should I-,” You could hear the slight panic in Carmy’s voice, assuming he was on the cusps of an orgasm as well.

“In me Carmy jus- all of it.” His fingers pressed into your clit going at a pace your brain couldn’t keep up with.

The speed of Carmy’s breathing increased. His head finding its way back into the crook of your neck, lips scattering kisses across your neck, “I’ll give it to you all. M’ gonna give you everything.” The sound of Carmen’s voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he had intended anyone else’s ears to hear it.

Whatever Carmen’s intentions his words were the last thing you needed to hear before bliss took over your senses. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, the intensity causing loud moans to escape your lips, clenching Carmy’s cock so hard you were sure it must’ve been painful. 

Riding the high of your orgasm, Carmen’s deep drawn-out groan vibrated into your neck as you felt him give two final rapid thrusts before the dam he had been holding back finally burst inside you. You felt his thrust slow down as he began peppering kisses across your face, “Thank you, thank you.” His voice trailed off into a whisper before his full body weight settled into you.

Now that the bed was no longer threatening to put a hole through his wall, the only sound filling the bedroom was the panting breaths you and Carmy were letting out.

Carmy looked up at you, the wetness on his cheeks matching yours. His forehead leaned against yours the vulnerability the two of you had for each other on full show. Breaths of love were shared between you as your lips gently touched. You knew the words you wanted to say at this moment, felt them so deep in your soul that your tears wouldn’t cease their downpour.

But you also knew how flighty the beautiful man in front of you was, it hurt but you would once again have to swallow your love for this man to ensure he remained in your life.

You laughed as Carmy hovered atop of you the Polaroid he gifted you in his hands the device raised to his eye. Your arm was thrown over your face the fact that the two of you were in this position at all still mind blowing . Carmy nudged your arm, he had been snapping photos of you for a while now, both of you ignoring the fact that he should have been getting ready for work instead of laying with your naked body barely covered under him. 

“Show me that smile, pretty girl,” you slowly moved your arm, the smile splitting your face hard to control. “You seem to like my chain so much, I want to remember what you look like in it.” Carmy could be devilish when he wanted to, the way he would sometimes gain confidence and say what was on his mind, throwing you for a loop.

Your eyes left the camera in his hand as you stared at his face, so enchanted with who Carmy was as a person. Only being jolted out of your trance as the Polaroid fluttered out of the camera and landed on the center of your chest. 

Carmy moved the camera smiling down at you before picking up the photo and examining it, the corner of his lips ticking up in a half smile. He placed the picture on the other pillow where all the other Polaroids were sprawled out. You watched as he set the camera down next to your head cupping your jaw before leaning down and pressing a firm kiss into your forehead a mumbled ‘Perfect’ escaped his lips. 

“Will you take a picture with me Carmy,” your words came out shyly hoping he would agree. You felt his nose nuzzle into your neck planting a small kiss on your tattoo before moving to lay next to you in the bed. 

You reached over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before grabbing the camera from its spot by your head. You raised it watching as the soft smile graced Carmy’s face, your eyes not wanting to leave the perfect view of his side profile that you had fallen in love with, finger accidentally slipping, the sound of the camera shutter filled the space between you too.

Carmy pulled the photo out waiting for it to develop as he looked in your direction. A wide grin took over his face just by looking at you, your hand began lowering the camera before his hand shot out and raised your hand, and the camera back up quickly pressing your finger into the button to capture this moment in time. 

You let him grab the camera from your hands before he placed it on the nightstand, once again holding your face in place as the two of you shared your softest kiss yet. 

— — — —

You watched as Carmy maneuvered around his room slipping into a clean pair of chef whites, he was late and you could tell he was panicking on the inside but didn’t want to worry you. The two of you had wasted away in the shower washing each other's bodies and holding each other under the hot spray of water. Neither of you wanted to leave the confines of the shower, knowing your time together was finally expiring.

You sat on the bed with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin resting atop them, a fresh pair of panties, and his deep green crew neck from last night your only form of clothing. The tension between the two of you had been broken the moment Carmy realized just how behind schedule he was, shoving reality down your throat as the game of pretending the two of you had been playing was finally snuffed out.

Carmy’s eyes landed on you in his rush clocking the glaze of your eyes, head not rationalizing why you might be upset at the moment. Finally gathering all his necessities he rushed over to you kneeling in front of you pressing one last kiss onto your forehead.

“I’ll be home soon, yeah.” You closed your eyes, the words breaking your heart into pieces.

“Yeah, be safe okay?” Carmy smiled, capturing your lips in his for the last time tonight hand cupping the back of your head to hold you in place.

The two of you separated small side smiles mirroring each other, both of you knew that Carmy would return home to an empty apartment tonight, but neither of you would voice that truth. 

You followed him to the front door needing to see him off before your return to Chicago. He opened the door lingering between the door and the hallway hand gripping yours before pressing a soft kiss into the pulse point at your wrist.

You shared small smiles as Carmy made his way to leave, sending you one last wave before he disappeared down the hallway.

Your closed the door, forehead pressing into it as you stood there trying to gain your bearings, doing your best to control your tears as you knew this moment was inevitable.

A soft “I love you, Carmen.” Breathed into the empty apartment soft enough for it to feel like a ghost had whispered those words and not you.

But not quiet enough that the man who returned on the other side of the door missed the declaration. 

Heart thudding in his chest. His hand ready to turn the keys in the doorknob dropped to his side. His feet shuffled backward as he took one last glance at the door before reverting to his journey to work.

He could go one day without his signature chain that he had so lovingly placed around your delicate neck.

a/n: idk what to say really…enjoy : ) [actually no this is my first smut so please let’s learn from carmy’s mistakes and don’t come for me 😉] i’m like the only person on the planet who thinks i’m funny that’s how laughable it is 😭

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[vidavalor]

I've had to disconnect from my dash because of all the negativity; I honestly do not get why people are acting like a semblance of justice+a movie is the worst thing in the world?

I'm mourning for the full six-episode season we lost because ng couldn't pass the utmost basic sub-zero bar for not acting like scum and of course I wish amazon had kicked him out and then sprung for it anyway (and honestly, as long as you're blaming the right person, I think it's fine to feel upset? We deserved better, the cast and crew deserved, Terry deserved better, and this one guy ruins it for everyone because the bar was buried six feet deep beneath the ground and he still managed to go lower, and that does suck, and it is miserable and unfair, so take a moment if you need it 🤷‍♀️) but let's face it, we got off lucky. Arguably, considering this was a standalone novel from the nineties, that then got made, in one of the best book adaptations I've ever seen, into a limited standalone tv miniseries (and, again, emphasising the standalone here, so even if it all goes to hell in a handbasket, we'll still always have S1 and the book; people have been ignoring the Jurassic Park sequels for nearly three decades), and then got a surprise sequel, we were pretty lucky the whole way through.

And regarding the whole what if it's bad thing, I was always going to be worried: I was anxious long before this shit went down, and I was anxious before S2 and even S1, as well. It's not like we ever had any guarantee it was going to be good beforehand either, and at this point, knowing what we do now, I'm not at all sure I'd have trusted ng to write this anyways. So while, yeah sure, I'm maybe a little more anxious now, I trust Michael and David with these characters and I trust Rob and Rhianna with Terry's legacy and story and that they wouldn't have fought so hard for this ending unless they planned to keep fighting and thought they could pull it off. Isn't the problem with this kind of thing normally that what happnes is the creator who cares deeply about the work gets pulled in favour of someone out-of-touch who cares not a jot about the story and needs to leave their own grubby fingerprints all over it? More the other way around here, no?

Anyway, what I also wanted to say was that I really appreciated your 'think of it as the final two episodes of season two' (and all your takes on this situation so far, very level-headed and optimistic, thank you). I mean, you're right, and it's hardly wildly out-there for a series to finish on a feature-length special, and although the filler material in S2 and the compression of S3 maybe means it doesn't exactly resemble what the second book would have been, it was only ever meant to be two books. (Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed S2 and was very glad to get it, even though I am a book/S1 fan and also had the most fun in that time fandom pre/post/around the time of the S1 release, but why does it exist? Ego? You can't tell me you couldn't have fit the important parts of S2 into one season with the S3 plotline.)

Basically, I'm grieving the could-have-beens (imagine if he'd been exposed way earlier and the TP estate had had control of this whole production from the very start!) and I'm a little worried that that hurt'll stick around no matter how good S3 is - which I need to fix, because that's more power over my favourite show and what it means to me that I want to give anyone, let alone someone like that - but at the end of day, I do think it definitely can be done with what we have, and I'm choosing to be hopeful it'll be done well, because, well, why wouldn't I?

(I will say this hasn't been great for my faith in humanity, because I really want to believe not all men are shit and some of them are making it very difficult right now, but that's an entirely different problem and so far believing most people are mostly good has always prevailed in the end so. y'know. we'll get there. might reread discworld, that's always good for that.)

Sorry for venting all this at you! I just kinda felt the need to write it all down once to get it off my chest... have a snack on me? I'm partial to cherry tomatoes, green melon and mandarines at the moment (I stop eating salads in winter, which means I default to eating even more fruit) but I can also offer homemade baked goodies fresh from this morning? 🥧

Hi there. 💕 You are welcome to vent away & thank you for the delicious-sounding snacks and kind words. I'm glad my posts on the movie boosted your spirits about it. I agree with and can relate to almost everything that you said here so assume that anything that I don't address just has a 'yes, absolutely' nod happening. 🙂‍↕️

The one thing I want to touch on here is S2 and this idea of it being "filler" that you mentioned that I think might not be quite accurate. I think you (and anyone else who reads this) might feel more enthused about the idea of a good ending in 90 minutes after reading this so hopefully this'll be another way that I can help?

On why S2 is really the whole story and actually had a lot more going on in every way than S1...

Ok, I'm going to explain something that drives writers like myself bonkers 😂 and that is how some readers or viewers of fictional stories mix up plot and story.

Nothing grinds our gears than reading things like "filler" and "unnecessary subplots" because, while everyone is within their rights to have an opinion on written works, 95% of the time, the person who says phrases like this isn't talking about the quality of the work but of its very existence. They're saying "why did we have to read/watch this? it didn't connect to anything" and that's where they are very, very, very... argh, just tell them, Crowley...

...thank you, dear. Right, so, why is it wrong?

Because what many people who don't write don't understand about subplots and more character-driven story arcs is that the writers sat down and decided to do that stuff for very, very specific story reasons. Readers and viewers mistake plot for story. Plot only exists in service of story and, so, all plots exist for a purpose in the story. They're all relevant. In fact, the stuff people usually label as "filler" in a story is really exactly where they should be looking to figure out what the story is saying. If you're big mad about all this time you spent with Maggie and Nina in S2, I'd say you might not still understand what S2 was about because you won't understand Aziraphale's story without understanding both Maggie and Nina's struggles in S2, for example.

A story is the whole, overall thing. It's the meanings, themes, and messages in the work. It's what's being said. It's the ideas being put forth by the piece. It's what it's about. It's different from plot, which is just the stuff the writers are making the characters do or not do in order to tell the story that they are looking to tell. Story is the art; plot is a tool used to make that art. Fiction writers can come at their story from almost anywhere to convey what it is that they are trying to say so there is meaning in the fact that they are choosing to tell their stories the way that they are telling them. They came up with these ideas for reasons.

When you dismiss stuff as filler, you're saying that it's lesser than more in-your-face and bigger plots (when, often, it's very much not), and you're telling a writer how they should have written their own story-- most of the time, without even fully seeing the ending of that story or giving any consideration to why it is that the writer wanted you to read or watch the stuff you're saying wasn't necessary. I'm not arguing that every story is perfect but you aren't getting anywhere near close to being able to evaluate a story if you're not willing to dive into what you were given and consider why it was that you were given those things and what they might mean.

Until the main question that you're asking about every single aspect of a story is "what is this saying?", you're not really fully engaging with a work. You won't get there by dismissing what the artists are telling you is important.

The secret sauce to interpreting fiction are subplots, actually. They exist to help highlight the themes of the main story, often in a slightly more direct way. If you want to understand Good Omens, starting with Ineffable Bureaucracy is actually one of the best ways to get at the core of the themes of the story. It's far from wasted time in the story.

There's actually a funny nod to the importance of subplots in 1941 when Aziraphale references Sophocles, the playwright who basically created the concept of the supporting character whose story mirrors and parallels the main character(s). The mention of Sophocles shows up in S2, the season that brings Gabriel more fully into his purpose as exactly that.

The reason why S2's plot is centered around the honestly pretty easily solvable mystery as to what's happened to Gabriel is because Gabriel, from the get-go, has been the entire story distilled down.

If you follow nothing but Ineffable Bureaucracy in Good Omens, you're going to be closer to getting what it's about and where it's going and what its end game is than you are if you are dismissing it as wasted time when we only have few episodes left. If you haven't yet seen the secret wisdom in Jim-- not to mention understand that Jim and Gabriel are the same person-- then you're probably wigging out more about the movie.

You likely think that S2 was wasted on stuff like Gabriel, or Maggie and Nina's romance, when they should have been getting to Armageddon and The Second Coming already!

You haven't yet noticed that Armageddon has more than one meaning in the series.

It's not always the literal destruction of Earth but also a person's own life crisis. We are all worlds of our own and those worlds can be put at risk if we don't let others in and take care of ourselves and those around us.

When you realize this, you can start to see that S1 goes hard with a freight train of plot all over the place that is related to Armageddon in a more Biblical, apocalyptic sense while it establishes its universe for us but that, once we know how it all works, we can get something like S2... a time where we can step back and start using Armageddon in the more figurative way that the story is also presenting it.

We need to because the story isn't about Heaven or Hell-- it's about being a person. S2 is emphasizing the deeper aspects of the themes and rolling that out at a pace more in line with a person having a few days of inner crisis. When you see that Aziraphale's crisis is the point then you can see how S1 can be about The Four Horsepeople riding to the end of the world and S2 can show War (inner conflict), Pollution (mental health issues), and Famine (symptoms of the other two; lack of food and pleasure and connection; self-starvation and self-denial) as a mental health crisis.

The point is that if you're thinking these characters need to come together to overthrow Heaven and Hell and get to the South Downs Cottage and there's no time slajdflkfwjlkejlje!?!?, then you aren't realizing that not every revolution involves guns and bombs.

People all over the world can start a love train that's far more effective. You might think a subplot about The Hellhound and The Ginger Cat learning to play nice and that they have a fuckton in common and should maybe bury the hatchet and just become eternal bffs already is filler but Crowley and Gabriel aligning is set up for the end game. It's strength in numbers and finding peace and family. They can't overthrow Heaven/Hell without help and Gabriel is the Supreme Archangel. They literally will never have a South Downs Cottage ending without a plot that helped Crowley and Aziraphale see that Gabriel and Beez are on their side.

This is the revolution in Good Omens:

It will take all the characters coming together to overthrow Heaven/Hell and set up something new for us to get a happy ending and we absolutely will. S2 is Gabriel-centric because Gabriel is the key to all of the characters getting a peaceful ending and because he's a split-directly-down-the-middle mirror of both Crowley and Aziraphale. In a season that is more about Aziraphale's inner Armageddon than about an external threat, Gabriel is vital to telling that story. The plot of S2 is every bit as important to the story as S1. I'd argue that it's even more important because takes the time to go at the themes in a slower, deeper way. It needs to because it's a story of a fall that sets up for a story in S3 of a recovery from one.

Good Omens is the absolute perfect combination of a show that is both very, very detail-oriented and full of depth while also being, secretly, an incredibly simple story. I do not mean simple in a negative way but in a chef's kiss sort of way. Simple in a tight and elegant sort of way. This is something that I think some people might not see when they're theorizing but it's something to keep in mind ahead of the movie. Not just because the movie is shorter-- this would have been relevant if we were having a longer S3, too.

Good Omens has a very engaged fan base that looks for the details, yes. *raises hand* I'm one of them lol. And there will be plenty to pour over in the movie, but... the big thing to keep in mind is that your theory needs to be something that is simple, that can be explained in under a handful of scenes, tops, and that is focused on where Aziraphale's story arc is going above anything and everything else.

If you're beginning with time loops and the birth of a new antichrist baby, I'm telling you from ages of experience reading and writing stories, you're going to be way off. If you are over here composing theories of the story that you are arguing are correct and this theory involves, idk... *makes something up* Crowley is really Elvis and Elvis is really The Bentley and when a rainbow hits Whickber Street at exactly 4 minutes into the new season, Satan will be revealed to really be Jesus, I think maybe you might be missing the point of the details that the show has given already. Like the plot, these details exist to reinforce the themes of the story. Story beats everything else-- it's what this is all about.

And what Good Omens is about? Is best summed up by Michael Sheen, in this single sentence that I really, really agree with and have paraphrased more than once in posts:

Good Omens is about the business of living. It's about the human experience, which is the experience of being a person. Everything related to Heaven and Hell and good and evil and Armageddon and supernatural things is plot that only exists to highlight a story about the complexities of being a person.

The supernatural is human and the human is supernatural.

That is what Good Omens is about.

While Crowley and Aziraphale are built as two halves of a whole and are both main characters, Aziraphale is the main character from a technical, story perspective, because he is the character whose story arc is driving both the plot and story forward. He's heading for a happy ending with Crowley in the South Downs by the end of the film. If you're making theories, start with what kind of plot would truly get him there and still fit with all of the themes of the story.

This 'it's about being a person' business is why if you look at S2 as filler and not as a season that is exploring the continuing themes on a deeper level, you're still worried about things like there being no time in a movie to show the story of a new antichrist kid being born or how they're going to fit the whole Second Coming into the movie. You don't yet see that Aziraphale parallels Adam and that being an antichrist is basically just being a person and that Aziraphale is presently the antichrist in the story. There is no antichrist child yet to be born. They won't be cutting it because it's not the story.

Armageddon since S2 has been Aziraphale's own personal one and the story from the end of S2 on is now how, if all the other characters can't come together to help him, it could also trigger Armageddon of the S1, Earth-destroying kind. It's tying a more literal Armageddon into a more figurative one. Because this story is about being a person so Armageddon is just metaphorical for going through a mental health crisis and shutting people out.

This story's themes include that every person matters and we all have to let others in and look out for one another. That there's strength in numbers. That found family and adopted family is as much family as biological family-- often, even more so. That labelling and categorizing people is bullshit and you should always open the cover and read the first sentences of people and help people whose stories begin with the same letters find one another. That it might be surprising who has things in common. It's about all of Heaven and Hell versus all of humanity, in the sense that ideas of being a perfect angel or being seen as an evil demon are concepts felt by human beings that get in the way of peace and healthy, happy living, but that fighting them is a common, human struggle, regardless of from where you come.

If you are too focused on the religious plot being the center of the film, you haven't yet seen the meaning of why the end of S1 was an eleven year old kid saving the world by telling off the bio-dad that was never there for him. You might be one of the people who thought this a silly, anti-climatic ending to that story, and don't yet realize that this is the entire story in a nutshell.

Adam can only reject Satan and keep the darkness at bay because he is surrounded-- here, literally-- by a family that supports him. He has good people for parents and was lucky enough to grow up with resources that all kids in this world should have. He has an absolutely terrific group of friends. He has this witch lady and her boyfriend and these two gay uncles that just showed up out of nowhere 😂 and his human incarnate self has what it needs to make it through this crisis, in this moment, even if he'll probably have others throughout his life, just like all of us. He's not evil incarnate and he doesn't have to be perfect-- he's just a person.

Aziraphale tells Adam this but struggles to see himself in the same way. That's what S2 is about.

S2 is about that other kid who, like Adam, breaks the season down into a single line of dialogue, David Tennant's apparent favorite from the season:

Jemimah knows who she is and she is happy to claim ownership over her art and contributions to the world. She's living her life with excitement and enthusiasm in a way that gets more complicated as we become traumatized adults. Crowley and Aziraphale struggle with this. They have been making a life together on Earth for thousands of years and each struggle, in their own ways, to truly accept that they are people who are allowed to have a life because they struggle to accept that they are people, just like everyone else.

Their story is about getting to a better place with that. That's really all Good Omens fundamentally is. That's why their ending is going to be to go live in a little cottage together that isn't a business that covers up an angelic embassy that covers up a secret love den. It's just their house-- theirs together for the life they're going to live openly together.

If you want some peace with the film, I'd advise throwing over your theories about The Second Coming and Armageddon needing to happen and antichrist kids and how Jesus fits into everything. Jesus in Good Omens is Crowley romancing Aziraphale at the crucifixion and Aziraphale using what Jesus said to Crowley to reject temptation as invitation to fuck him. I thought Jesus in a single scene or less was the most likely thing for S3 and the same holds for the movie. It's not the story. The only time The Second Coming is mentioned in S2 is by the villain and, to get there, Earth would have to first be destroyed. It won't be.

If the story is about being a messy human walking the Earth and we're in the end game now, then the story is about Aziraphale and only Aziraphale. Everything-- everything-- will be in service of Aziraphale's story arc. We already had just a few episodes with S3 and we now have even less time but the way this is going is still the same. The story is Aziraphale's fall and the other characters coming together to challenge Heaven to keep Aziraphale from eternity in Hell. That's how Armageddon is stopped this time around-- overthrowing Heaven with Aziraphale's fate as the motivation to take on The Metatron. It's nothing to do with Jesus. It's everything to do with Aziraphale.

When you see that, you can see how feasible that is in 90 minutes, with plenty of time for things like 1941, Part 3 and other flashbacks.

I think, when all is said and done, you might wind up appreciating S2 more after the film but you can get there already if you start looking at it less as meaningless fluff and start asking why it is that we were shown this story, in this way, and what that can tell us about the story we're watching.

[alongtherubyford]

i’m not the biggest will solace person but like. why don’t we actually talk about how much he went through?

wasn’t his cabin numbers essentially cut in half during the titan war? didn’t he lose an older brother at 11? didn’t he lose another at 12? didn’t he become head counselor at 13 too? wasn’t he the most important medic?

like will lost half of his cabin. half of his siblings. the apollo cabin was the biggest or second biggest and then they became one of the smallest, right? he lost lee and who knows how his cabin grieved. he lost michael and imagine him coming up to percy after the meeting on olympus, asking if he can try and feel his brother in the water and bring him back. imagine will in the infirmary and someone tells him that there’s a head counselor meeting and he says, “michael’s not here” before realizing he IS the head counselor. will SAVED annabeth from what looked like the brink of death, lord knows what would of happened if he hadn’t. he’s admitted that he’s not the best on the field and that means he was probably a combat medic, which can mean he sees awful, awful things.

all of that before he turned 14. what the fuck. (all of that to say he’s more than this sunshine character who’s happy-go-lucky and more than just nico’s boyfriend/eye candy. please give him the respect he deserves, idc if he’s not real)

[superstar-nan]

Fight Tooth and Nail

Epilogue

Summary: Just kidding :>

Words: 696

Fun stuff: Grief and mentions of death. I posted chapter 13 the same time as this one, so make sure you didn't miss it!

First ♡ Prev

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You didn’t go back home after you burned down Fazbear’s Fright. You should’ve. But you didn’t. You needed a few days to grieve, and you couldn’t do that at home where everyone acted normal and ordinary. Where nobody knew the hell you had been through. Your best friend’s family deserved to know what happened to them. But what were you supposed to tell them? They were murdered by a haunted serial killer bunny robot? You couldn’t tell them. You couldn’t tell anyone. In a few days, they would ID your best friend’s body amongst the ashes, and even then they wouldn’t know the full truth.

Michael knew. So you stayed with him.  

You got the feeling Michael wanted to be there for you more than you wanted him to. After you broke down in an anguished, desolate cry in front of a burning Fazbear’s Fright, Michael pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t want to be held by him. You wanted to grieve alone and away from anyone. But you knew if you had pulled away from him, it would’ve burned him more than the fire. So you let him hold you as you cried in the darkest despair of your life. 

He took care of you, and though you wanted to be alone, you still cherished his kindness towards you. He gave you the will to live, the least you could do was mumble a thanks as he bandaged your burns. You even allowed him to bandage your bite marks, but this time you wanted it bandaged. Through it all, You wondered if he was using taking care of you as a distraction from his own trouble.

You didn’t talk to Michael about your grief, and he didn’t talk about his feelings about killing his dad. Instead, you two coexisted in a heavy misery; the kind that you were able to forget briefly when curled up against Michael late at night, watching something unimportant and boring on the TV.

It was early Sunday morning, a few days after your five nights at Fazbear’s Fright, when Michael came home. You hadn’t realized he was gone. You sat up from the couch and yawned. On second glance, Michael looked quiet and heavy, as if there was something weighing on him.

“G’morning,” You slurred. Your eyes burned; you had cried yourself to sleep again. “Where’d you go?”

Michael didn’t answer you at first, and that made you shift, sitting up more fully. “Just out,” He said, like you would ever believe he was ‘just out’.

You fixed him with a more focused gaze, and he brushed it off, readjusting his hoodie and taking off his hat. “You haven’t left the place for days, and now you decide to leave at the crack of dawn to go ‘just out’?” 

Michael shrugged.

“You went to Fazbear’s Fright, didn’t you?” The words felt like sand on your tongue.

Michael stiffened slightly, almost imperceptible if you hadn’t been living with him for the past week.

You swallowed, and it was dry. “What did you find?”

“I didn’t say-”

“Michael,” Your voice was a plea, and you knew he couldn’t resist you when you were in genuine pain. “What is it?”

Michael set down his backpack and ran his hands through his dark hair with a shaky sigh, “He’s not there.”

A chill traveled your spine, sending a deep shiver through you, “What?”

“No endoskeleton was found. It should’ve been there. They found...”

“Bones,” Your voice was as cold as ice. “They found bones, but they didn’t find metal.”

Michael exhaled again, and it was a tired and weighted sound, “I’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” You corrected him.

Michael said your name in an exasperated sigh, but you interrupted him.

“We’ll find him.” You said firmly, “You’re not doing this alone.”

Something lonely softened in Michael when you said that, though you hadn’t meant it in a supportive way. He cleared his throat, and looked out the window, “It won’t be easy finding him. It might take a while. But... he’ll be back. He always comes back.”

You rested your head against the couch’s arm, “And we’ll be there when he does.”

[pain-is-too-tired]

Chat. Thinking about Jake Mason again.

Like,he was 100% depressed in TLH. Right?

And if I have to think about all this stuff I'm taking y'all down with me jdfdjc

TW FOR TALK OF DEPRESSION AND SOME TALK OF SUICIDEAL IDEATION

But yeah. His introduction is so interesting to me because not only is this poor boy in a full body cast, he's dealing with multiple injuries to his siblings,as well as still worrying about a dragon in the forest that literally put him in the cast to begin with.

And there's a chance that a lot of new kids joined the cabin after BoM. Harley is,what? 7-8? He's a LIL KID. A age of a typical 2-3rd grader. Along with all the other likely mostly 10-15 year olds,he having to take care of a lot all at once,after a war,and after loosing his big brother.

And,for fellow Sunforge shippers,after loosing his boyf too.

Like,I don't think we talk enough about that. He's taking care of a 7-8 year old. Why likely still actively mourning those he lost. Why dealing with all these incidents and then getting so badly hurt that he's in a BODY CAST

By the time Leo meets him he seems so...done? Like just indifferent to everything.

"I'm you Head Counselor...for now."

I honestly don't think he was meaning stepping down. Sure,he DOES step down later, but if he wanted to step down at that point,why not just do it then? I doubt he was just waiting for the right person to take the mantle. Plus, he was stuck in bed. He couldn't do much anyway so why not switch then?

He nearly died from Festus before, I'm sure he was highly aware they something could happen to him that could kill him. And,like I seen mentioned before,there's a chance he wouldn't be too against Festus having managed to kill him.

I don't think he was actively suicidal,but i think he was at least passively so.

He just lost most of the stability he likely had. He doesn't really have anyone to lean on, and he was never given time to grieve. He was trusted into leader ship.

Not just that,like I mentioned before, he has to deal with the fact that Silena,his brother's girlfriend, had been the spy. One the reasons for his death. And has to deal with people around camp calling her a hero for her sacrifice. Obviously I'm sure Beckendorf is talked about, but that still hard to process. Especially knowing how close they were as partners.

No wonder he's so apathic by time Leo meets him. Everything's falling apart around him, he's nearly died multiple times in just the pass year,he's lost multiple people he's loved and cared about,he's dealt with the betrayal of someone he likely strongly trusted.

Especially for a Neuroduvergent teen boy, that's a lot to process.

We've had some representation of depression in the series, but idk, something about that one scene hits different for me.

He's just so indifferent and defeated. And he's seems like one the only Head Counselors we truly see like that.

Drew is snappy and dismissive

Will forces a chill and sunny attitude

The Stolls as usual being pranksters and joking around to cope.

Clarisse seems her usual self

Yet,in TLH,Jake is just...defeated. but in TLO and later BOO, he's chill but determined. He's a strategist,he finds some humor in Michael and Clarisse argument and makes a dig at Octavian during the BOO meeting (i just know he's thinking that Michael would kick Octavian's ass-)

So when you read him in TLH it's just...it's a clear difference and hits so much harder.

Kinda wished instead of Leo becoming head counselor, we see him being there helps Jake get back to who he was before. He leads the cabin why Leo's gone anyway. I think it would've been sweet to have that close connection between them.

I also hc that Jake had started to withdrew from most of the other HCs. Except for Will,who was dealing with the Hephaestus cabin cause of the injuries.

That's partly why Will was asked to take Leo to Cabin 9.he was the only one who probably knew how to handle Jake's state in a even way.

Anyway. Jake Mason my beloved. You deserved more scenes.

[milolovesbmc]

RANT ON THE BOYF RIENDS BECAUSE I'M A WEIRDO LOL (Warning: RIDICULOUSLY LONG!)

I saw someone say something along the lines of "Boyf Riends just doesn't work on (the) Broadway (production)" so I'm now gonna rant about it cause I'm a weirdo and I love be more chill (Context, this was under a video with a whole bunch of drawings of Michael and Jeremy in different productions, so played by different actors! Someone commented "Someone should add Broadway" and the op replied with the line I first mentioned, no hate to this person, I'm just being a nerd, also if they see this, your art was amazing and I have nothing against you!!) But anyways this just set me off not a whole tageant about their dynamic, so be prepared for that!

So side note before I start ranting, I'm not saying this in a "Die-hard Boyf Riends shipper" way or something, more in a "the thing this person says makes no apparent sense (at least to me rn)" , also if you want to discuss this feel free to DM me and I'll happily hear you out, I might change my mind about this if someone gives me a good argument, who knows! I'm more than down to discussing this

So anyways, this point just doesn't make sense because of one simple thing: The show's plot and main story points don't change from one production to another. Sure, some details or even dialogue, might change! Hell, the addition of LGW in the Broadway/off-Broadway (?) Run gave as a totally different point of view into Jeremy's character and motivations! But that doesn't change the WHOLE story or the entirety of the perception x person may have on said main character. This just lets us dig a bit deeper into Jeremy's character and how he feels in the moment of making this huge decision of (basically) dumping Michael.

So into why Boyf Riends does/doesn't "work" (work meaning in this context that they fit together, or are fit for each other to put it some way)

I have to start off this by saying that their romantic relationship would not be the healthiest one to say the least. Like you can see this in the platonic relationship they have in the show! And, man, of course it won't be, they're 16! They do not know enough about relationships, neither platonic, romantic or anything in between. Not to say their relationship would be toxic! They just have some codependency issues to work through, because it may not be that apparent but they are, in fact, co-dependent to each other in some ways! They care A LOT about the other's opinion and what they would do in their place, this is shown more from Jeremy's side (probably because we're seeing the story though his lense) than Michael's, we can see this in MITB mainly, whole he's essentially having the breakdown of his life, and we aren't able to see that much of his concern for whether Jeremy likes him or not because he's so okay with himself, he doesn't care what other people think, he wouldn't change for anyone! Which is also why MITB is such an important arc to Michael, because we see that he's not perfectly 100% confident, he's vulnerable too, and he cares, because, shocker! He's still a teenager, with complicated feelings and problems!! He just doesn't constantly feed his insecurities and anxieties because, unlike Jeremy, he likes who he is, he's come to accept himself and wouldn't change for anyone! This latter point is very important, because this means (or at the very least implies) that he will put himself first, not in a selfish way, but in a good way, that's healthy! However, this changes in The Pants Song. You could argue that "He doesn't change anything about him tho! He just decides to help Jeremy!" And you'd be right! But he does so by putting Jeremy before himself and his feelings! Because he's angry, he's grieving because he didn't expect his best friend to turn on him, he needs to process it at least and he deserves to be upset! He insists on not helping him at first, but at last he's convinced by Mr.Heere and ends up, basically doing what Jeremy's father should have done. He basically goes out and saves everyone's ass, even after he gets called a loser on the Halloween party, essentially beat up by a SQUIP-possessed-but-still-Jeremy Jeremy during the play etc.

On Jeremy's side, he is kind of jealous of Michael! Because in Jeremy's eyes, Michael is cool! And he's great! And Jeremy can't process why Michael doesn't hate himself like he does, because the two of them share a lot of traits that Jeremy is bullied for! Because even if not shown, Michael is probably bullied too, but he doesn't pay it any mind, his love of himself is too strong to be affected by it! Jeremy, in some way, kind of looks up to Michael, this could partly also be because of a lack of a parental figure to look up to, but that's a whole other thing. This could affect his view on things, because you could argue that Jeremy sees the SQUIP as that "parental" figure to look up to! Because it knows what's best for him, or so it says, and it's gonna solve all off his problems! So during the bathroom intervention, Michael essentially goes against this idol figure Jeremy has (the SQUIP) which, in Jeremy's eyes, is good! So in that logic, Michael must be the bad person in this! Which is what prompts him to push him away (both literally and metaphorically). That wasn't the point I was discussing tho so back to that! Jeremy needs Michael's approval, he needs Michael to reassure that what he's doing is right! Because nobody else will do the things for Jeremy, not his father, that's for sure!

The problem is that, well, Michael doesn't completely get this! He doesn't get that Jeremy needs him to make the decision for him or help him out, so he just tries to distract him from it with the whole "Cool In College" thing, and at the same time, accidentally confirms his fears, never with that intention of course! But he does. A good example is these lines from Two Player Game: "Dude you are cooler than a vintage cassette, it's just that no one else but me thinks that yet! You're just a nothing in this high school scheme [...]"

Is Michael saying Jeremy's fine the way he is? Yeah! You can understand that from his speech! Will Jeremy most probably just pick up on how he says nobody else thinks that? Also yes

So in conclusion, to end this all off because I'm writing this at 1 in the morning, Michael and Jeremy's relationship does have flaws, it has it's positive and negative aspects, but they can work through them! And about the whole SQUIP incident, I think they just need to actually talk about it and understand why they both did what they did (Mainly for Jeremy's part) and just move on forward! Could moving on forward mean going into a romantic relationship? Sure! It can be whatever kind of relationship you want! Can it also just continue to be platonic/friendship? Sure! Could both work out equally well? YEP! At least from my point of view!

Thanks for listening to me rant, I just have to say this probably went way off rail from what I was saying at the start and might feel kinda pointless, but again, it is 1 am and I'm not reading this again, I hope you can at least enjoy it! :)

[tsarisfanfiction]

Champion

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Kayla She always said she was going to make it to the Olympics, and aged eighteen, it finally happened. TOApril day 5 - For the Best, and maybe I twisted that prompt a little bit here but Kayla deserves to be the best so here we go, ft. some background very proud fathers!

It seemed stupid, being so nervous.  There wasn't anything to be nervous of, not really.  Kayla was an amazing archer and she knew it - she couldn't not know it, with her upbringing, with her fathers.

It was just another target to hit.

The fact that it was in a different country, a different continent, and there were more eyes on her than ever before shouldn’t mean anything.  A target was a target was a target, and she’d been able to hit gold every time without fail at far greater distances than this since she was fourteen.  Aged eighteen, with a far more powerful recurve bow than most people expected to look at her, a mere seventy metres was nothing.

Except this was the Olympics.  This was Kayla’s dream, the thing she’d aimed for since the first time she’d held a bow – and Kayla didn’t miss her shots.

This was the world stage, with laurels and medals and broken records waiting for her.  The current women’s world record was 680.  Kayla could beat that.  Kayla had beaten that, training in Camp Half-Blood, where mortals couldn’t see her and would never know.

Part of her thrived on that, the little bit of showmanship flair she’d inherited from her dad.

(It had been one of the things she’d shared with Michael, for the scant few months she’d known him.  The inborn talent to show off, to settle comfortably into the self-assuredness that she could do whatever she set her mind to, and be good at it.

Would Michael be proud of her, for making it to the Olympics?  Would he be proud of her if she won?

She thought he would.  She hoped he would.  He’d been rough, didn’t understand how to be gentle, and she knew she’d only known him while he was grieving and stressed, but he’d been her big brother, and he’d grinned whenever she shot better than she had before.  She couldn’t imagine him not being proud of her.)

These mortals didn’t know her.  Well, some did, because Da had been an Olympic coach for years.  The Canadian team had watched her grow up, aside from the years she disappeared to what they’d always claimed was a boarding school – and she knew they’d feared her skills hadn’t had a chance to bloom away from her coach of a father, because they didn’t know that camp meant archery training as often as she could get away with, that there were days she’d been at the range from dawn til dusk just because she could.

But most of them didn’t.  She was an unknown, to the world stage.  Barely any competitions to her name, and even less of them recent.  By all rights, if she was someone else looking at her, she wouldn’t expect much.  Clearly something got her on the team, and it wasn’t nepotism because Da didn’t do that and Dad wouldn’t belittle her like that, either, but the other archers, the coaches from the other countries, the audience didn’t know that.

They didn’t know where she came from.  There were expectations, of course, because the name Knowles held weight in the world of archery – Da had worked hard for that – but no knowledge.

Kayla shouldn’t be nervous, because this was easy, she had made far harder shots when she was eleven and crying because she didn’t know if her favourite big brother was alive or dead.

But it was the Olympics and there were nerves creeping into her chest that had no right to be there, because this was her dream and how dare something as unnecessary as nerves interrupt it, but of course they were.  She hadn’t expected anything else, not really.

Da was on the sidelines, a distance that felt far further than the target ahead of her even though it was actually closer.  She was pretty certain Dad was somewhere in the crowd, too, and Artemis might be as well.  Not for her – or at least, not exclusively, in the case of Apollo – but because this was their domain and Dad had told her enough stories of Olympic competitions over the years that she knew he always went.

Why wouldn’t he?

That didn’t matter, though.  That couldn’t matter.  What mattered was that Kayla had one arrow left to shoot, and then her Olympic journey was over, one way or another.

Because she wasn’t so unknown to the crowds watching her, really, or the world, because she’d battled her way through all of the stages to this one.  The last one.

Whoever scored better here got the gold medal, and Kayla wanted it.

Eyes were on her, the upcoming, unknown archer with the record breaking score (not perfect, because Kayla was holding back.  She couldn’t stand out here too much, had to still seem realistic to all those watching mortals, and no-one scored perfectly in all of their shoots at the Olympics.  That just didn’t happen.  She’d ease that in slowly, next time and the time after, getting better and better until everyone knew her name and she held records that could never be beaten, only matched).  The official Olympic record was 680 for women, although the unofficial record was actually 682, and Kayla was one last arrow away from breaking the men’s record of 700.

She would do it; she knew she would.  This arrow would hit a perfect bullseye and catapult her to 703 – a far cry from the perfect 720 she had done at camp (had done several times at camp), but a broken record that put her name on the map without letting room for cheating allegations to take root.

(There would be some regardless, Da warned her.  Not everyone was gracious in defeat, and she was making waves breaking the records like this.  There was nothing to find, nothing to prove, because the only way Kayla could be considered a cheater was because she was the daughter of Apollo, a demigod born directly of the god of archery himself, and she refused to consider that cheating when it was just who she was.)

It was almost anticlimactic, in the end.

A perfect bullseye, the best arrow she’d shot all Olympics, because she’d been holding back but couldn’t do that to herself completely, if she was going to win, she was going to win, and the world exploded.

The immediate aftermath was a blur.  There was Da, jumping up and down in sheer delight and barely waiting for her to put her bow down before he was swinging her around as though she was still a little girl.  There was handshakes and hugs and congratulations from the other archers, no-one begrudging her score because you could be disappointed in yourself, in archery, but never in others doing well.

There was microphones and flashing cameras and the Canadian flag draped across her shoulders, and so, so, slowly, the realisation that she’d done it, that Kayla Knowles was the Olympic champion, the new World Record holder, and the youngest to do all of that, too.

There was Dad, too, making his way down and seamlessly merging in with the team even though he wasn’t one, and a flash of silver somewhere up in the stands was Artemis, too, although Kayla didn’t expect the goddess to congratulate her anyway, so she wasn’t bothered when it was only her father that came down to give her a massive hug and beam with pride.  Her siblings hadn’t made the journey, not because they didn’t want to but because they had responsibilities and there were so many of them it would’ve been impractical, but she knew they’d been watching from wherever they were and made sure to wave directly at all the cameras for them.

But it was the medal around her neck that finally brought her back to clarity, the Canadian flag high behind her, flanked by the South Korean flags of the silver- and bronze-medallists, and O Canada playing for everyone to hear.

She’d done it.

[nekoshi13]

You know, there's plenty to complain about wasted potential in characters, wasted story lines and the like but my biggest, hugest gripe with this show (beyond the homophobia but that's a different topic) is how much they wasted every archangel that wasn't Lucifer. And even Lucifer got absolutely butchered in season 15!

We met Raphael for so little that I can even think about what could have been done differently with him. Probably seeing more of the civil war in heaven would have helped both Raphael to feel more like an actual character instead of a figure stick placed to be Castiel's antagonist and Cas himself to not look like the asshole the writers tried to make him look like in s6

Gabriel was an amazing character that, like mostly everyone that wasn't Sam and Dean, deserved way more screen time that he got. But even with what we had, bringing him back in s13 to do absolutely nothing more than make Lucifer cry once and then killing him again was an absolute disservice to the archangel that died in the apocalypse facing his brother for the right reasons. He could have stuck around and if they really didn't want to have the power of an archangel on the side of the good guys then keep him depowered and let him process his trauma instead of healing in like 2 seconds

Michael... where do I even begin with Michael? The most powerful archangel, our Dean parallel in the celestial family, the obedient soldier that was still the nicest he could be to his vessels and I don't think he even had half an hour total of screen time. And let's be clear, I am not counting Apocalypse Michael here, this is about our world Michael, OG Michael. For starters we should have seen way more of him than we did. From season 11 onwards there were so many occasions in which the boys could have at least tried to talk to him AND THEY COULD DO IT but they never even tried. I do however love what they did with him and Adam when they finally left the cage, although I would have been the first one cheering them on if they went for revenge I think what they did makes clear just how different and not actually evil was Michael. I hate that even in the season where we know they are out there we barely see him, I would have loved to see more of his conflict about what his father did, seeing him grieve Adam (friendly or romantic, whatever is good for me at this point) and... well, here comes the biggest bad thing they did to him, I would have loved to see him stand up to his father, Michael deserved to do that, he was one of the angels who got most deeply screwed over by Chuck and he deserved to punch him in the face

And while in that topic... Lucifer. Lucifer was the archangel with the best arc, he was a great villain and the fact that the Mark was what made him like is in the first place made him actually sympathetic, when he told Michael he didn't want to fight him, the whole thing with Chuck I'm season 11 and then he realizing he had been played by his father in season 12 and wanting to prove he could do better was great. I loved what looked like a redemption arc for him because besides Michael, he also got incredibly screwed by their father. I hated that he turned on Jack like he did, I wish that whatever confrontation needed to happen at the end of season 13 would have been more out of being scared of AU!Michael and wanting to protect Jack even if he had to do it forcefully. The fact that Nick was somehow alive after his death was strange as fuck and I wish they had explained how exactly after he looked dead in S5 but regardless, the fact that he wanted Lucifer back I think says something about how he interacts with his vessels (when said vessel doesn't drag him back to his cage, I guess, sorry Sam, I love you). But biggest sin against him was how he went right back to Chuck like a dumbass in s15. S12 Lucifer, my beloved, he would never. He deserved to punch Chuck as much as Michael, I wish they had teamed up and punched Chuck together. Bet two archangels fighting god would have charged up Jack faster and would not have been as ridiculous as two humans being beaten up by god and being just mildly hurt at the end, they could still stand...

Anyway, the archangels deserved better, thanks for coming to my tedtalk

[tarttheart]

PRECIOUS LOVE CHAPTER 10: JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you finally make some progress.

word count: 960 words

warnings: language

-

chapter 10: to be a better man

It took three days for you to think that maybe you deserved better. It started with Michael pulling you into a big hug when you told him you did not think it was going to work out. He went on to reassure you that there was a long line of fit footballers you could choose from because you were, in his words, “fit as fuck”. Then, the multiple messages from Rebecca and Keeley reminding you that you were brave and amazing. Finally, there were the flowers from the De Bryunes as a little cherry on top with a strongly worded reminder about what a wonderful person you were after you messaged Kevin and Michele a sincere and heartfelt apology for being so unavailable.

So, you decided it was time to properly invest in getting better. You had had enough of a go on your own without professional help and it had gotten you nowhere. Sure, you had travelled heaps around the various regions you had been assigned to while away and done some self-care as you had initially grieved. That had been great but then, hyperfocusing on work thereafter had definitely been counterproductive. While it was great that you finally had some semblance of a social life now, calling it progress was a bit of a stretch given you had been processing for four years albeit somewhat half-heartedly.

Seeing Dr Sharon was hard. There was a lot she had needed to set right in the initial sessions. There were a lot of tears and days spent holed up at home trying to grapple with all that had come to pass. But, as the sessions wore on, you could feel some light coming back into your life and the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to be around more things football-related. First, it was Nelson Road for an actual in-person appointment with Dr Sharon. Dr Sharon suggested it and you were not about to shy away from the challenge after making as much progress as you had. Although you had spent the better part of 15 minutes hyperventilating outside before stepping foot into the facility, what mattered was you did. Sessions expanded to having lunch and drinks with Keeley and Rebecca in Rebecca’s office. Sure, part of the reason you had had lunch with Rebecca the first time was because you had heard ruckus in the locker room and seen players streaming out as you had started down the stairs so you had retreated to Rebecca’s office for safety. Yes, it might have been rooted in fear initially but being able to be at Nelson Road was progress in itself.

Then, you started attending games with Rebecca and Keeley. The first time, Richmond were playing Aston Villa away and you happened to be in Birmingham to visit a client. Given the meeting was scheduled for a Friday, you had decided to extend your trip to Sunday to give yourself a little bit of breathing room between train journeys. But, that was where the breathing room ended. The other director had taken to you and decided to make a weekend out of it with you as their unwilling partner (something about a bad breakup and ideal girls’ trip).

You: HELP PLEASE. She was chatting to me from outside the cubicle.

Rebecca: Oh god.

Keeley: don’t hate me babes but

Keeley: what about coming to the game?

You: can I sit in the back and scroll through IG the entire time?

You: you know what, doesn’t matter. She is trying to book us in for costume karaoke. I’m in.

You had originally said you would sit in the back and ignore everything going on but were quickly sucked into the spirit of it all. How could you not? It was an exciting one with Richmond kicking a goal to win it all in the last two minutes of the match. Being in and amongst it all had brought back memories, fond memories of attending Man City matches with the De Bryunes as an extra set of hands for the children. You realised in that moment that football was not as painful a memory as you had thought it would be now. So, when the next opportunity arose to join Rebecca and Keeley in the box, you took it and you remembered that look of pride the two had as they pulled you in for a hug when you had agreed.

Taking the step to actually joining in the team celebrations and being around the team took a little more. You had started making regular appearances around Nelson Road and at matches, enough to spark speculations amongst players about your identity. Did Keeley have a new investor? Maybe Rebecca’s personal lawyer?

Jamie sat in the locker room, overcome by a weird feeling of almost deja vu after catching glimpses of you in the hallways. He always managed to dodge you before you caught sight of him, thanks to the recent agility training he had been keeping up but seeing you stirred something within him nonetheless. He remembered the way you laughed and squealed whenever they won. He remembered the way you always hugged him when he needed it. He remembered how you would give him a thumbs up whenever he looked mad about something and how it made his frustrations disappear if only for a second.

“Oh, that’s who you’re talking about. Guess she must know Keeley and Rebecca too but she’s neither an investor nor a lawyer. She works with Michael,” Colin explained one day.

“Whatever her name is, she seems like a good bottle of Nebbiolo. Elegant, understated, well-liked and very, very good.”

Fuck Richard and his perfect fucking analogy, Jamie thought to himself.

-

< chapter 9 | master list | chapter 11 >

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 27

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2074

Warnings: Talk of death, angst

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Also sorry for the delay in posting this (again). I just got settled into my new place, so trying to get back into the swing of updated. Also happy belated birthday to Juliette and Ghost, who both share my bday :)

Chapter Songs: Stay Blindedsided

****

Ghost and Hangman left Texas the day after the funeral. It turned out to be a rough day for both of them because, after the ceremony, Jake had left the Blackwoods to grieve at their patriarch's headstone in private- despite knowing they would've been perfectly fine with his presence- and strolled through the cemetery until he came to a stop in front of a familiar marble stone inlaid into the soft grass. His body had reacted on its own accord as it slowly collapsed to the ground onto his knees. Hangman's eyes had stared at the engraving on the stone: Natalie Seresin.

He had talked to her, apologized for getting her killed, for cutting her beautiful life short. He told her of the fiasco he'd made of his life: how he'd pushed everyone he ever loved away, how he'd fucked things up with Ghost, how terrified he was to screw it up again, if the fallout would destroy him like it tried to last time. It'd come so close to succeeding before…

Hangman had told her of Michael Seresin's health issues and how Nick was on the lam; how he and Matt were rekindling their brotherhood and trying to be a family for once in their lives; how adorable her granddaughter Sophie was and what an asshole Jake had been to hold off meeting her for so long because of his anger at his father and brothers.

Ghost had found Hangman. She had silently knelt beside him, taken his hand in hers, and waited for him to speak the first word. He didn't remember what he said, but they ended up in his truck mindlessly driving on back roads for hours, sometimes chatting, sometimes not, but those silences never felt awkward, and only when they returned to North Island did Hangman's fear of losing her rear its ugly head again, telling him he didn't deserve her, let alone a second chance.

It was those thoughts that consumed him while he and Ghost sat on his couch with alcohol in hand. She had dreaded spending the night alone tonight, and Hangman was more than happy to oblige her request to stay with him for a bit. They were in the middle of watching the 2005 Pride and Prejudice, which she and Juliette adored. It'd even surpassed Ghost's love of The Notebook, and honestly, Hangman could kind of see why. It certainly had a happier ending!

"Okay, Mr. Darcy-" he began, pointing at the TV with his whiskey glass and nearly sloshing the liquid out- "or Noah Calhoun?"

Ghost groaned in despair. "Why would you do this to me?"

"Because I love you." The truth slipped out so casually, but Ghost would never suspect he meant it as anything more than platonic. She had never figured it out after all these years, and Hangman was content with the situation because it let him get his feelings off his chest without any risk of getting his heart well and truly broken by her inevitable rejection.

"That kind of question makes me think you hate me. If I had to choose…" Ghost bit her lip and then took a sip of her Bailey's and whiskey. "Darcy. I'm such a sucker for the brooding type."

"Is that why you fell for Rooster?" Hangman teased, bumping her knee playfully with his.

She glowered at him, but the hint of a smile tugging on her lips took the venom out of it. "We were both in shit emotional states, and he looked a lot better brooding than I did."

Hangman's face fell into one of disagreement. "I hold an informed opinion when I say you look better brooding. This may have to do with me having to watch Bradshaw pine for Juliette from the moment he saw her when we arrived for the training. Don't get me wrong; I get it with their history, but still, annoying to deal with on a daily basis. Especially because those lovesick puppy eyes were involved."

Ghost raised an eyebrow at him. "You staring at Rooster's face a lot?"

"I had to gauge my competition, both for the training detachment and romantically. Bradshaw wears his heart on his sleeve, and you can see whatever he's feeling. From the first night we arrived, he had his eyes set on her. I had history to contend with, and I figured out pretty quickly winning her heart was a lost clause."

"You really liked Juliette, didn't you?" The question came out more of a statement, and Hangman winced at the sound of it. "I knew you had a flirtationship, but I never realized you had genuine feelings for her."

Hangman shrugged to give an air of indifference. "It is what it is. My family isn't exactly lucky in love, except for Matt."

"I've seen the way girls look at you. You could have any girl you want. What gives?"

None of them are you. "Haven't found one I clicked with in a long time," he replied, eyes trained on the amber liquid in his glass before knocking the rest back. "You want more to drink?"

Ghost nodded and followed him to the bar, where he poured their glasses fuller than he should've. He probably didn't need more, considering the strong buzz he currently felt, so Ghost had to be buzzing as well, although if she was, she didn't show it outside of talking more animatedly. She'd always been able to hide her drunkenness well. Sometimes too well.

"Who was the girl you clicked with?" Ghost prodded. "Was it back at the Academy?"

"Yeah, but she didn't feel the same. We shared one drunken kiss, and that was it. I was actually doing it to save her from some creep." Jake bit his tongue, realizing he might've said too much. Ghost would figure out he spoke of her if he said anymore. He had to move past it. "It is what it is. Besides, I'm happily married to my job."

Ghost leaned against the bar on her forearms. "Did I know her?"

"Yeah, you knew her." Hangman hoped his short response would end that topic of conversation.

Ghost had other ideas. "Who was she?"

"I don't see the point in saying it since it's in the past, and telling you now won't change anything about it."

"Well-" Ghost began matter-of-factly- "she missed out, but I think you got it wrong about her not returning the feelings. All the girls at the Academy had a crush on you at some point. Hell, I'm pretty sure a few of the instructors did."

Hangman searched her eyes, and a certain amount of anxiety crept into his heart. She knows. She knows I'm talking about her. But why isn't she saying that aloud? Is Ghost trying to save me from the embarrassment? Or maybe... is she trying to save herself from it? 

Hangman decided to play the game. "All the girls," he echoed, straightening and stepping closer to her. "Does that include yourself?"

Ghost stood but still leaned against the counter. He saw her breathing hitch a little, giving him his answer. "Like I said. All girls had a crush on you at some point."

He took another step toward her, so close now that one deep breath from either of them would cause their chests to touch. "And now?"

Do not start anything! This is a bad idea. Abort mission. Abort! Abort! Abort! The warning bells clanged loudly in his head, but seeing Ghost's eyes drop to his mouth wiped those thoughts from his head in one fell swoop. 

"Jake-"

His name rolling off her tongue broke him. Hangman leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, soft, restrained, and questioning, giving her the opportunity to pull away in case he'd horribly misread the signs. In case he'd overstepped any boundaries.

Ghost hands found their way to his face, gentle but firm. Hangman's willpower caved at the green light she'd granted him, his arms wrapping around her torso to pull her close to him, her soft curves flush against his solid abdomen. He couldn't get enough. Couldn't get enough of the taste of his whiskey on her lips, the smell of her Jo Malone perfume enveloping him, the softness of her hair as one of his hands tangled up in it. 

"Stop." Ghost's quiet voice dragged Hangman out of his euphoria. He leaned back to look at her, wondering what happened, what he had done wrong.

"What is it?" he asked, carefully brushing a stray piece of hair from her face.

Ghost disentangled herself from his arms, leaving him feeling cold and empty. She backed away while shaking her head. "I can't- I can't do this."

"I'm sorry. I- what did I do? Did I misread-" Hangman started reaching out for her but immediately stopped when she stepped back.

"It's not y- I can't do this. We just..."

"What is it?" Hangman inquired, dreading where this was going.

The pained expression on her face only deepened. She opened her mouth but closed it just as fast, searching for the words she wanted. "Why? Why did you leave me?"

He blinked, processing her question, fearing the route he knew they were heading. "What are you talking about?"

"After the accident, when I was clinging to life in sick bay, when I had just lost my best friend, where were you?" Ghost demanded, taking a challenging step toward him, fury temporarily wiping away her sadness. "I died and came back, I waited for you, I asked Coyote where you were, begged God for you to come see me, and you were nowhere to be found. For fuck's sake, even Cyclone and Warlock visited me despite the shit they were dealing with in the aftermath of the accident to see how I was holding up. Phoenix, who I barely knew at the time, came to check on me. Coyote was at my bedside every day and tried to cheer me up even though he was reeling from the loss of his girlfriend, and you-" Ghost's breath hitched- "you were nowhere to be seen. Why?"

Hangman gulped, desperately trying to gain control of his mind and block out the horrific memories and thoughts that plagued him from that time. In a strained voice, he replied, "I thought you didn't want to see me. I thought- I thought you blamed me for the accident."

"Blamed you? Jake, I know Javy told you I wanted to see you. I even asked fucking Cyclone and Warlock to send you, but nothing! Why would I ask for you if I hated you? Why would I defend you in the trial for the accident if I blamed you for it? And I know you avoided me before the trial, how you always managed to disappear before I could reach you from across the room. So, I'm not buying it. There's something else that stopped you. What was it?"

"I- I can't-" Hangman found himself at a loss for words; the images of what he'd seen, of what it reminded him of, rendered him speechless, incapable of defending himself against the barrage of valid fury and hurt Ghost hurled at him. God, he wanted to tell her, to tell her everything, but he couldn't. Hangman couldn't bring himself even to the edge of that long, dark hole of endless despair he'd spiraled into after Ghoul's death. If Hangman did, he was terrified he wouldn't be able to pull himself out again.

"I have never needed anyone in my life," Ghost said, her voice cracking. Tears brimmed her eyes, threatening to cascade down her flushed cheeks. Barely able to get the words out, she whispered hoarsely, "But I needed you then, Jake. When I needed you most, you left me alone. Why?"

I loved you. That's why I couldn't be there. The words lodged in his throat, paralyzing fear taking control of his body.

Ghost scoffed in disgust. "Even after all this time, you still can't tell me. I should've known. Goodbye, Jake."

She turned on her heel, grabbed her purse, and exited his apartment, leaving Hangman rooted to the spot and realizing that goodbye had been final. She'd given him a second chance, and he'd blown it. She handed him the perfect opportunity to explain himself, and like the coward he was, he clammed up. 

The black hole of despair he'd escaped for years finally won as he tumbled back into it.

****

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[queer-whatchamacallit]

Here’s my observations of 1x03 - Brigade of my beloved, The Bear!!

When Carm’s at the beach, there’s a “let it rip, Buddy” which I’m pretty sure is our very first let it rip

Carm takes “the chemistry needs to change” and “just try to keep my side of the street clean” and absorbs it

I think I’ve counted 4 pepto and tums stashes? The office, the bathroom, the locker room, and his bedroom

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Carm sleeps with socks on

In the Al-Anon pamphlet, under the DO (as opposed to DON’T) section was “take it easy— tension is harmful”

Manny, Angel, and Marcus are all definitely there before Carm. Marcus said Carmy was early, but he came in at the same time as Syd, so might be able to assume she comes in before him normally

We get to see a little bit of Carm’s purer passion for cooking. Him just deciding to teach Marcus about the plum thing because he has that knowledge to share. The Carm-Marcus mentor relationship is so superior

Also he says Har-EE-bo which threw me off. I always say HARE-ih-bo

Carm starts the French brigade to keep his side of the street clean and change what he can, but there’s also the layer where Carm likes consciously or subconsciously reliving his traumas, but in a situation he has more control over. Carmy is trying to remake New York here, except he’s the Executive Chef, but he’s not going to be overbearing like his Chef was

“Ebra: I was in a brigade once. Tina: What happened? Ebra: Many people died. Tina: See, Jeff? Carmy: It’s gonna be different” is such a good back and forth, Ebra is easily the funniest person here

Carmy parrots, “They keep their side of the street clean,” and you can almost tell he’s been rolling those words over and over in his head all day

We get Ebra’s first “I accept” !!!

After the call from Niko, it’s like Carm either doesn’t hear Richie the first time he asks, “What was that?” Or he just can’t get words to come out of his mouth. Carm’s voice goes kinda small and quiet. Richie asks if he blew a fuse, and I could imagine that’s exactly what it felt like

“I just felt like Michael was alive for a second.” Carm wasn’t there for the funeral, it’s hard to tell how it was long after Mikey died when he moved back from New York, he never grieved with anyone. He knows Michael’s dead, he can say it without a second thought, he jokes with the “I’ll ask him when he’s not dead” in 1x06, but the deepest proof he has is word of mouth. There’s bound to be some part of him that’s in denial about Mikey’s death

He hears, “I want to set this place on fuckin fire,” in his head, same as after the nightmare in 1x08, so did he know about the failing fire suppression stuff? Did Mikey say that to him at some point? Idk this is just a weird quote, some good s1 unreality tho

As Carm runs from wherever he was to out the door, you can hear shit being knocked over behind him, but he doesn’t look back. He’s pretty okay with telling people when something is wrong, but actually having them be there for him is a different story. The second he crosses the threshold into panic, he bolts, so no one can see it. When he gets off the call with Niko, he never turned around to face Richie and just waited until Richie walked out before he let himself press a hand into his chest and sit down

No matter how pissed Tina is with Syd, she’ll still ask, “What happened? Let me see” when she cuts her finger <3

Tina goes up to Sweeps and Marcus who both have the blue aprons and there’s such a good bit I forgot about, “Tina: You two look like you joined a dumbass cult. Sweeps and Marcus in unison: Thank you”

Another good Ebra bit: “Syd: Well, it’s not good, so Ebra: You betrayed me!”

When Syd goes out front looking for her onions, Richie is talking to Crooked John from 1x06 !!!

There’s a bench outside no one ever seems to use after this (that I’ve noticed), but I guess whenever we see someone go out back, they’re probably either nervously pacing (Carm) or too sad to feel like they deserve a bench (Marcus)

Even after the hellish half day she just had, it takes a little prompting from Carmy to open up about it, and when she does, it feels almost straightforward, I told you this would be bad, you didn’t listen to me, and that isn’t the job I came for, you suddenly gave me this responsibility then left, and it didn’t go well, etc. She also gains a little bit of revenge by fucking with Carmy and lightening the mood. She may not be super comfortable with explaining this stuff to others, but she seems to have a good bit of emotional intelligence (especially compared to Carm) to pinpoint everything that bothered her

Ah, the classic “fuck brunch” <33

And after all that, Carmy snuck out again at sunset to go to the beach and feel painful emotions about it being Mikey’s birthday

I think the first 2 eps introduced external and internal conflict respectively, so now, we could start getting into some recurring stuff. It starts planting the seeds for the season 2 Carmy ditching the restaurant for what he thinks will be healthier arc. And Syd gets her shit rocked, and that’s so rude because she deserves the world

Anyway! Ep 3 boom done!!

[madsworld15]

Part 2 of Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me

Part of my Asexual as Folk series

I won't be able to write much this weekend, so I am hoping this installment will tide people over until either Sunday evening or Monday morning.

Twenty minutes later, Brian stood up and walked back inside the hospital. He didn’t want to have to make any decisions about Justin’s care, but if Jennifer needed him to help her, he would. He couldn’t exactly say what had changed his mind, but it came down to the fact that he didn’t want anyone to have to be alone in all this. He and Jennifer included.

Weird. I’ve always pushed myself to be independent and not need love. Now, here I am, deciding that if she asks me again, I will make a decision with her about her son. Her son, who I care deeply about, against my better judgment.

When he stepped back inside, he found Debbie standing off to the side, talking to Daphne, who was crying, and Michael, who was not. Brian knew he should talk to Daphne, they had a mutual bond because of Justin, and she deserved to hear about it from him. But, he was still so numb and adrift after the meeting with the doctor. He wasn’t sure he could handle all of Daphne’s emotions on top of that.

So, instead, he turned toward the other end of the hall, where he was certain Jennifer would still be. Without a word to his family, Brian headed toward Justin’s. He hadn’t taken more than two steps when he felt a hand envelope his own. He looked down to see long, slender fingers. Without looking up, he knew that they belonged to Emmett. Bless that sweet man for always knowing the right thing to do in a crisis. Brian was closer to Michael, even when they were distant from each other, like now, but Michael was useless in situations where emotions ran high. No, Brian didn’t need Michael right now; he needed Emmett.

The two men arrive at the conference room once more and find Jennifer sitting where Brian had left her. She had her cell phone in her left hand and a crumpled tissue in her right. A pile of used tissues sat on the table in front of her. She was staring, unseeing, straight ahead. Emmett immediately sat down next to her while Brian hung back. He’d been touching and hugging people more in the last 5 hours than he had in the last 5 years. He was at his limit.

“It was his birthday.” Jennifer’s statement came out in a whisper, wettened by the tears still flowing down her face.

That one sentence broke Brian. His knees buckled, and he had to force himself into a chair of his own. How had he forgotten it was Justin’s birthday? What god and what universe allows a person to be attacked an inch of his life on his birthday?

“Fuck.” Brian let his breath out, and the tears started anew.

Emmett squeezed Jennifer against his side as he also reached for Brian’s hand.

“What can I do?” He asked, looking between the two people he was trying to keep steady.

Jennifer bit her lip and then finally turned her head toward them. “I called his father. He’s not coming. It seems he believes Justin brought this on himself.”

The anger within Brian bubbled to the surface, and he clenched his fists, forgetting that Emmett had one in his grip. He couldn’t believe a parent would be so heartless as to say he deserved to be bashed. And to say it to his obviously grieving ex-wife, the mother of said child? Unforgivable.

“I thought my dad was bad.” Brian spat out, the words feeling like fire on his tongue.

Jennifer gave a wet laugh, “Craig is, well, he’s something. I just regret that it took me until now to officially leave him. Justin deserved better.”

They all fell silent for some time. Brian could hear every tick of the clock on the wall. He wanted to know if Jennifer had made any decisions yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Emmett, who hated silences, even if they were comfortable, cleared his throat and spoke up.

“What matters most is that you are here now. He is lying there in the ICU, broken and bruised, in need of his mom, and you are here.” Jennifer nodded to indicate that she understood.

“I’m sorry.” Brian’s voice filled the empty space left behind when Emmett stopped talking.

“Brian –” Emmett started to reassure him that he had nothing to apologize for, but Brian shrugged him off.

“I should have followed him out of the club. I shouldn’t have been a colossal jackass to him in the days leading up to this. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have felt the need to go to Babylon.” Brian rambled, his eyes fixed on his hands that were still in fists.

“Brian, YOU are NOT to blame.” Emmett’s words came out firm but loving. “You didn’t punch him and kick him. In fact, you have only ever respected him and cared about him.”

“As for Babylon, I was the one who urged him to go out for his birthday. He just wanted to have a quiet night in and watch movies. If we are going to play a blame game for why he was there, then I am the reason, not you.”

“Neither of you are to blame.” Jennifer butted in. “You both were there for him when I refused to be. We can’t sit here and blame ourselves for the actions of those three who attacked him. We all have to be strong and support him through the road ahead.”

She paused, got up from her seat, and moved closer to Brian. Then, surprising him, she leaned over and wrapped him in a hug. 

“You heard the doctor. Justin has multiple surgeries and months of rehab to look forward to. He’s going to need people there to support him.” 

Brian hesitated before he wrapped his arms around Justin’s mom as well. He breathed in her vanilla scent and allowed her warm embrace to comfort him. Here was a woman who had every right to hate him. He was much older than her son and was Justin’s chosen partner. Instead, she chose to love and appreciate his presence in her son’s life. This was all foreign territory for Brian. Most people immediately criticized his influence on the people he cared about, thinking he was too selfish. But, Mrs. Taylor was here accepting him as he was for the sake of her son. A small voice at the back of Brian’s brain told him not to get comfortable and that she would probably turn on him eventually. But for now, he was going to soak up this feeling. It helped to keep his fears at bay.

Jennifer pulled back, “We should probably go and update the others, Daphne and…that woman…”

“Debbie.” Emmett and Brian said at once. They shared a small smile.

“Yes, Debbie. We should update them.” Jennifer stood up and grabbed her purse. She deposited all the used tissues in the trash, wiped the tear tracks from her face, and put on a fake smile before she left the room.

Emmett followed her soon after, but Brian hung back briefly. He needed to compose himself. It was one thing to allow Emmett and Jennifer to see him break down. He couldn’t do that in front of Daphne. While it wasn’t the first time Debbie or Michael would’ve seen him crack under pressure, he wasn’t in the mood for their comfort right now. 

He needed to be sure that when he went out there, his demeanor reflected the stoic person he always was. It would encourage the huggers of the group to leave him alone. Which, if Debbie could be counted on for anything, it was running her mouth. He was sure more people probably arrived by now to stand vigil for someone they didn’t really know but mattered to Brian, so they cared. Sure enough, upon reaching the part of the hallway where he’d left Debbie before, he found Lindsay and Ted had joined the group.

“Doesn’t anyone have anything better to do? It’s not like he knows you are here.” Brian rolled his eyes and pulled out his cigarettes. He knew he couldn’t smoke inside, but damn did he want to.

“Then why are you here?” Mikey whined from his spot next to Debbie.

Brian shook his head slightly in disbelief, pinched the bridge of his nose, and finally responded. 

“Because he’s my bo— because we are seeing each other.” Brian caught himself before he said the dreaded word, but a look around revealed that Debbie, Lindsay, and Emmett were giving each other knowing smiles. 

“I’m grateful that someone has been here with him since it happened.” Daphne stepped forward and moved to touch Brian’s arm, but he took a step back.

“Yeah, well, someone had to. He was pretty beat up.” Brian shrugged and tried to act nonchalantly.

“I was there too.” Michael started to chime in, but Brian stepped up to him and cut him off.

“You stood there and didn’t do shit!” His frustration at the whole situation poured out of him and landed on the one thing he could control — Michael.

“Fuck off, Brian! He wouldn’t have been out there if you’d paid him any attention!” Michael spat back, his words having no truth to them but still cutting deep.

“The two of you need to stop!” Debbie got between them, giving them both a stern mother look.

“Maybe if you’d done something, they wouldn’t have been able to kick his head and cause his brain to swell!” Brian threw at Michael despite Debbie’s admonishment.

“Brian!” Debbie turned all her attention to him. “I know you are hurting, and when that happens, you make those around you hurt, but placing the blame on Michael isn’t fair, and you know it.”

Brian was so angry at everything going on that he couldn’t even see straight. He knew Debbie was right, but it didn’t help that her son wanted to try and claim he was there for Justin when he wasn’t. He’s never once cared for the blonde ever. 

“I’m going to get a coffee.” Brian stepped away from Daphne and the Novotnys. 

“I think we should all go home and get some rest. We can come back in a few hours, in shifts, to visit him during visiting hours.” Debbie said, looking around at the family like she meant business. “That includes you, Brian. You need sleep, honey.”

The thought of going home terrified Brian. Even if Jennifer was there to keep an eye on him, Brian couldn’t imagine going across town to his loft right now. It was too far away.

“Debbie, is it?” Jennifer finally stepped forward, “I think Brian should stay here. Just in case something happens. I don’t want to be here alone.”

Brian would never be able to say it, but in that moment, he thought Jennifer was heaven on earth.

*****

As the sun rose, Brian sat in that sterile hallway. Jennifer was right next to him with her hand on his knee. After Debbie and everyone else had left, Brian had calmed down enough to allow Jennifer to give him the barest of touches in the hours since she hadn’t moved her hand, not once. 

Brian leaned to the right, allowing his right arm to support his head. He knew he should probably sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Justin lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. It was something he would give up his loft and all the money in his bank account to never see again.

He heard a muffled noise next to him. It sounded like voices, but he couldn’t make out the words. Brian rubbed his eyes and straightened up. He looked over to Jennifer and found her looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” Brian stifled a yawn.

“I asked what you do. What’s your job? I’m assuming you have one.”

Brian let out a chuckle. “Advertising Executive.” 

For the first time since Justin had jumped off the stage at Babylon Brian smiled, genuinely smiled.

“Sorry. You reminded me of Justin just then. He would’ve smirked at me and said, ‘Assuming you have a job’.” Brian ducked his head and stared at his hands, which he had his right grasping his left with the thumb and forefinger applying pressure to his left palm. 

“Don’t apologize,” Jennifer whispered. “I love knowing that others appreciate his sarcasm and wit like I do. He’s always been so much brighter than his peers. He got a 1500 on his SAT. Did you know that?”

Brian shook his head, then tilted his chin up so he could make sideways eye contact with the woman next to him. 

“But I’m not surprised. He told me once his father wanted him to go to Dartmouth. I knew then he was smarter than I could ever hope to be.”

Jennifer reached across and separated his hands in order to clasp his left one between both of hers.

“I don’t know you very well, Brian, but I know you are kinder and smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Brian scoffed. But stopped the minute Jennifer continued.

“You saved my son's life. I will always be grateful to you for that.”

Brian’s throat thickened, and tears threatened to fall once more. He was saved from responding by the appearance of Justin’s doctor.

“Mrs. Taylor, it’s still not visiting hours, but we decided as a group that Justin might benefit from human contact that isn’t his medical team.” The doctor took a deep breath. “Would you like to see your son?”

Then he paused briefly before adding, “You can come too, Mr.” And then he looked stressed that he didn’t know Brian’s name.

“Kinney. My name is Brian Kinney.” He stood up and walked with Jennifer down a completely different hallway.

“Be aware Justin is still unconscious and on the ventilator. But we were able to lower his settings and hope that by tomorrow he can be weaned off.” 

Brian and Jennifer silently nodded their heads. He found himself grabbing onto Jennifer’s hand and holding on tight. His brain couldn’t make up its mind whether or not he wanted to be touched. Most of the time it all felt too much, but as they walked toward the door that Justin lay behind, Brian felt the need to have something grounding him or else he might float away. 

How could it be that this young man has changed his whole center of being in just 6 months?

Brian held his breath as they arrived at Justin’s room. He could see him through the glass doors and adjoining columns of windows. For someone whose personality made him brighter than sunshine and bigger than life, Justin was now so pale and small.

The sounds of the ventilator worked in tandem with the steady beat of Justin’s heart monitor. If it weren’t for the bandage around his head and his hand propped on pillows with rods sticking up out of it, Brian could easily say he was sleeping. In fact, Justin looked so similar to all those early mornings that Brian woke up to find him in the bed next to him.

“He looks as though he could wake up any moment,” Jennifer spoke his thoughts out loud. Brian just nodded.

He removed his hand from Jennifer’s, and she immediately moved in, placing her loving hands against any visible part of his face she could find.

“Oh, Justin. I’m here. And Brian’s here. You aren’t alone.” At Jennifer’s words, Brian sat in the chair on the other side of the bed and squeezed Justin’s leg.

“I’m right here. I see your hurt, Justin Taylor.”

If Jennifer was curious about Brian’s words, she didn’t say. Brian was grateful for that. He sat there silently, watching Justin’s heart beat out the steady rhythm. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if he should pray to God. But then he remembered he didn’t believe in that sort of thing. All those years of being forced to sit in a church and pray for absolution from sins he never committed turned him away from any kind of all-powerful being.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Jennifer spoke. “Do you believe in God, Brian?”

Brian shook his head, not wanting to say too much, but then one more look at Justin, and he changed his mind.

“I was raised in the Catholic church. My mom forced me to go multiple times a week until I was 12. Then I got taller than her and simply refused to go. I already knew I was gay and couldn’t bear sitting through lecture after lecture about how I was going against God. How could God create me as I was supposed to be but then hate me?” Brian shrugged.

“So, I stopped going. Met my best friend, Michael and went to Sunday dinners at his house instead.”

“I was never an avid churchgoer, but I guess you could say I believe. In times like this, I feel like it’s all I have.”

Jennifer ran her hands along Justin’s blankets, tucking them or straightening them where she saw fit. After a few minutes of this she looked up at Brian, and gave him a sad smile.

“You wouldn’t understand, but when you become a parent, the person you once were stops existing, and in its place is someone who would do anything for that child in your arms. If I could trade places with him right now, I would.”

“I do know. I have a son.” Brian licked his lips and allowed his mind to turn to Gus for the briefest of moments.

“That’s right. Justin drew a picture of you and him for the art show.”

“Gus.” Brian forced a smile and looked up at Jennifer.

She smiled to herself, “You know, Justin had a stuffed bear when he was little that he named Gus.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Brian smiled back at her.

“But, I’m not a father.” Brian had become too uncomfortable with his vulnerability, so he put his walls back up. “I simply gave a donation so that my friends could have a child.”

Jennifer’s hand landed on top of Brian’s, “I would hazard to guess Justin sees you better than anyone else. And since he drew you taking care of your son, I’d say you are a dad.”

[impish-ivy]

Beel’s Secret

Spoilers for Nightbringer Lesson 9 onward!

A theory of Beel’s possible involvement in the death of Lilith

Belphie mentions that both of them feel guilty about Lilith’s death and that Beel blames himself.

Ok we already know this, why mention it?

Because if Belphie already knows about Beel’s guilt then how could it be something he’s never told him?

Beel’s potential involvement in Lilith’s death

The only reason I could see Beel hiding anything from Belphie is if he’s afraid of how’d he react. Belphie mentions in his talk with you in Lesson 10 that all he can think about when he’s alone is who’s to blame for what happened. Obviously we know he blames himself and this manifested into a hatred of humans. But Beel may be afraid of this hatred being projected onto him, and with his own guilt it’d make sense that if he had any part in Lilith’s death, he’d keep it a secret. Sometimes we don’t tell our loved ones things because we’re afraid they may judge us, even if deep down we know they never would. The mind is a our greatest prison, after all.

Some potential answers

The least interesting answer is that he never told Belphie but because of their twin telepathy he knows how Beel feels. It feels super counterintuitive to have the others discuss things that weren’t explored in ObeyMe only to have Beel talk about something we’ve been aware of since season 1. So this answer is not only uninteresting it seems very unlikely.

A more interesting theory is that Beel had a direct impact on Lilith’s decision to save her human lover. Like…oh I don’t know, recommending the idea of using celestial fruit that could be used to save her lover. Food has always been Beel’s thing so it would make sense for him to offer up a healing food for Lilith. He also has a strong urge to protect his loved ones, and if someone you loved came up to you to devastated that their lover is dying, you’d wanna help them.

We know the fruit she used is most likely an apple as Belphie has an open hatred for them. And while it could be just someone not liking a food, he seems to take personal offense to the apples mere presence.

Beel has been mentioned twice now that he was in the human realm the day before the Celestial War. What could he have been doing down there?

Beel was down in the human realm running an errand for Michael. Which is very strange given Beel was a Cherub, an angel who guarded the Celestial Realm’s gates. So it’s very odd that he’s been sent down into the human realm. Even more so because he was gone for several days.

Something to note is that we have no idea where Lilith was the day before the war. She’s never mentioned probably because they’re still grieving so she’s most likely hanging out in the human realm with her dying lover.

My Theory

So then what was Beel tasked with in the human realm?

My personal theory is that he’s been sent to find Lilith. Obviously he’s wouldn’t be looking for her under the pretense of punishing her. He would just know that Michael wishes to talk with her, which wouldn’t be too unusual.

Anyways that’s my theory!!

I hope they do something interesting with this set up as Beel deserves it

[eurosleazarchive]

the ringing of my phone wakes me from whatever light sleep i fitfully fell into earlier. i recognize my brother's name, but i don't answer. it's not that i've been ignoring him for the past two months – it's just that i haven't wanted to talk to him and refuse to answer his messages. it's just how things have always been. i groan as the text notification echoes through my room, bleary eyes scanning through the words.

[ sms: mike ] sadie, you need to answer your phone. i have news.

[ sms: mike ] i'm not gonna tell you it through text.

there's a defeated sigh through my nose before i call him back. must be important if he's being secretive about it. it takes a few rings before he picks it up.

" what the hell's so important you can't tell me over text? " it's irritated, sure, but i haven't slept well.

" sadie. it's about mom. " mike sounds like he's been crying and guilt hits me instantly– any irritation quickly shoots out of my body. i sit up, legs tucking under my body. " she, uh. she passed away in her sleep last night. the housekeeper found her this morning. i know mom's been sick recently but… "

he trails off with a sob and i can't help but let my own out in response. i don't know why i'm crying. all i know is that i am. the tears are hot as they roll down my cheeks, staining the sheets on my lap. i've always felt like i've been grieving some version of my mother. there's the version of her that would have been happy if dad was around; the mother that died isn't the one that i wanted to know.

there's so much i wanna say that i can't. my tongue feels heavy in my mouth. all i can do is hear my brother wail over the phone. " – do you want me to come out there with you? "

" yeah. " he sniffles. i can imagine him running his nose on his arm, just like he did as a kid. " i can't do it without you, sadie. i don't – i don't wanna plan this alone. you can't make me do that. i'll –. "

" michael, relax. i'll just– i'll pack some clothes and what i need and then i'll be back home as soon as i can. i promise. i'm not leaving you alone. "

i've always tried to protect my brother – he can't go through what i went through. he doesn't deserve it. i shoulder the problems and he goes on happy and worry free. i can't shirk my responsibilities now, especially while grieving.

" thanks, sadie. i'll – i'll meet you at the house, okay? we'll go from there. "

" we'll go from there."

he hangs up and the phone drops from my hand into my lap. there's sadness that i feel, something bone deep and tiring, but there's something more than that threatening to bubble up inside me.

my mother died and all i can feel is relief.