#hi. does anyone care about my best friend Veronica. I love her so much. this scene drives me insane.

[sand-worms]

Happiness can quickly come to an end.

[laundrybiscuits]

(part 3 of the not-hallmark fic, now tentatively titled grace coming out of the void)

It’s not too long before Robin tumbles through the door in a whirlwind of apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Steve, wrapping her up in a bear hug. “Eddie kept me company.”

It’s true, actually. There’d been a few minutes of awkward silence, before Eddie’d visibly steeled himself and started making small talk with the grim determination of a general heading into battle. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t made Steve feel like dirt just a little bit.

He’s trying, Steve had told himself firmly. Yeah, it sucked that Eddie clearly still had some kind of problem with him, but if he was willing to try this hard to get over it…well, the least Steve could do was try, too.

So they’d filled each other in on all the stupid unimportant details of their lives, the stuff that was easy to talk about, and gradually the talking got easier. They’d never been strangers, not really, but somehow over the years it had gotten so Steve could forget that Eddie was fun to be around. There hadn’t always been a weird sour feeling in Steve’s stomach that had to be ignored; there was Eddie’s hands looping in big descriptive shapes as he described some new student who has absolutely no idea why she’s in my class, Steve, I swear someone’s blackmailing the kid to be there, she just shows up and like, grimly struggles through whatever I give her. Won’t even tell me what she wants to play, and I’ve tried everything. I arranged Cyndi fuckin’ Lauper for this kid, Steve!

Eddie’s face, relaxed and bright-eyed, never happier than when he’s telling a story. The way Eddie cares so much about every little thing. Just being around him feels like sitting at a fireplace, soaking in the warmth and light. And when Steve manages to make him laugh, it feels like winning the damn lottery.

So they’ve managed to get on pretty well in Robin’s absence. Steve’s hoping it doesn’t take them another few years before they can have a real conversation again, like some kind of timer that needs to reset.

“Good,” says Robin. “Because you two are like my favorite people, and it would really suck if you couldn’t get along.”

“Favorite people?” Eddie drawls, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t wait to tell Ronnie that.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare!” Robin shoves at his shoulder until he moves over so she can squeeze onto the couch with them.

“Am I finally going to get to meet the famous Veronica?” asks Steve. Robin’s been going on about her for a while, but he knows the relationship hasn’t been official for that long. So it’s fine, it’s normal that he hasn’t met his best friend’s girlfriend yet, and Eddie has.

“Yeah, of course,” says Robin. “She’ll be here in like an hour to set up for the party.”

Of course there’s a party. From what Steve hears, Robin and Eddie seem to be constantly throwing parties and having people over, a rotating cast of quirky personalities with artistic inclinations and improbable backstories.

This one’s not even really a party, Robin assures him; it’s just the new girlfriend plus a couple local friends. Or, one local friend and one Hawkinsite who’s in town for the holidays.

“You remember Jeff, right?” says Robin.

“Oh sure, Jeff, yeah,” says Steve. “And the other one’s…Hannah?”

“Helen, she’s an artist who’s been working with Eddie on an installation. She’s great, you’ll love Helen.”

———

Steve does not love Helen.

“Wait, it’s true?” Helen cuts in. “People actually thought Ed was a cult leader? Our Ed?”

Steve breathes through the flicker of annoyance. Eddie doesn’t belong to Hawkins anymore.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s, you know, a small town. Folks were just scared, is all.”

“Aww,” she coos. “It’s just so tough to imagine anyone being scared of this guy.” She ruffles Eddie’s hair and Eddie slaps her away, laughing.

“Yeah, it was a whole torches-and-pitchforks thing,” Eddie says. “I met this guy when I was on the run from some villagers who wanted to burn me at the stake. Me! Can you imagine?”

Steve huffs, amused. “Think I remember something about that meeting. Something like…you threatening me with a broken bottle at my neck? Ring any bells for you, Ed?”

“Wait…that’s not how you got those scars, is it?” Helen’s looking a little more hesitant, like she finally realizes there’s something here she can’t ever understand. Steve’s viciously pleased about it, then tries not to be. He doesn’t like strangers talking about all that shit like they can relate or something.

All he says is: “Nah. That was a little later. Eddie’s the reason I lived long enough to let this—” He rubs awkwardly at his neck, fingers skidding and pulling at the ugly ridges. “—scar at all.”

“Don’t listen to Harrington, he never wants to admit he’s a fuckin’ action hero. I barely did anything except freak out and almost get murdered. He saved my life for real, like, at least three or four times—think at this point he just owns my entire ass.”

Steve is tempted to ask why Eddie’s been avoiding him for the last six or seven years, if that’s the case, but he knows that’s not totally fair. Steve’s been doing a lot of avoiding too.

“Shoot,” says Helen. She’s still got an arm tucked into Eddie’s. “We’re all very grateful, Steve.”

Instead of saying I didn’t do it for you, Steve says, “Just, uh, glad I was there. I’m…gonna get some more wine.”

Robin catches him in the narrow hall leading to the kitchen. It’s a nice apartment, yeah, but Steve thinks the layout’s weird as hell compared to the right angles and neatly aligned walls of his place back in Hawkins.

“Everything okay, dingus?” she asks. The way the hall bends, they’re sheltered from the living room. It’s a soap bubble of privacy, fragile but whole.

“How do you handle people asking about—stuff?” Steve blurts out.

“It’s actually been easier here,” says Robin thoughtfully. “Because in Hawkins, people always think they know a lot more than they do. Remember how Vickie and I used to get into those big fights?”

Steve nods. He hadn’t really understood what was going on at the time, and Robin hadn’t been great at explaining. She’d talk up a storm, get all worked up, and at the end of it, all he’d get was that she was mad and Vickie didn’t understand why.

“Well, later on I realized that they’d always kick off when Vickie said something like, I know what you mean, or I was there too. Because she didn’t, and she wasn’t. With Ronnie, it’s like…she doesn’t get it, but she knows she doesn’t get it. It’s easier with her, I guess. How did you handle it with Laura?”

Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t, I guess. But she wasn’t, y’know. The One.”

“Still holding out for that fairy tale romance, huh?” Robin smiles. She’s just teasing him; she doesn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really not,” says Steve. “Listen, I’m gonna—” He holds up his empty glass and escapes to the kitchen.

Jeff’s there, pouring some wine into his own glass, and fills up Steve’s without being asked.

Steve nods at him in thanks. It feels a little rude to just turn around and leave immediately, so he leans against the counter and takes a drink.

“So, uh,” says Steve. “How’ve…you been? Since, uh, Hawkins.”

Jeff gives him a wry smile. He definitely knows that Steve doesn’t remember him at all. “Not bad,” he says, drumming his fingertips on the counter. “I’m just in town visiting family for the week; I’m actually at Michigan right now, studying to be a doctor. I want to specialize in geriatrics—like, taking care of old people? But right now I’m in the part where they shuttle you around to different specialties to get a taste for everything.” He makes a face. “Surgery definitely ain’t my thing.”

“Shit. A doctor, huh?” Steve shakes his head, surprised for no real reason. It’s not like he hadn’t known that people from Hawkins could be smart; hell, he’d dated Nancy Wheeler. But this seemed like the kind of smart that just didn’t fit into his memory of Hawkins High. Other than Nancy, who—last he’d heard—was still sharing an apartment with two other girls and fighting her way up the ladder of some paper in Boston, nobody he’s kept tabs on has really gotten successful in a big-city way. Like, the kind of successful that could be on a TV show.

“Yeah, I was always into science. Used to keep caterpillars in my room, see if I could get ‘em to turn into butterflies. Drove my mama crazy, ‘cause she hated having critters in the house. But I just thought it was so wild how the caterpillars could have a whole life crawling around on the ground, and then their insides just rearrange, and suddenly they can fly. I was such a dramatic little shit, I was so damn sure I’d grow wings too.” Jeff laughs. It’s surprisingly nasal for such a broad-shouldered guy, and Steve decides he likes how unselfconscious Jeff is about it.

Steve reaches out to clink their glasses together. “Hey, you did, didn’t you? Got outta Hawkins, got to chase your fancy doctor dreams.”

“Guess I did.” Jeff nods and takes a slow sip of his wine. “Look…tell me to fuck off if this is too much, huh? But I gotta ask. Why’d you stick around? Why not get outta Hawkins too? Not that we knew each other or anything, but…even from the Hellfire table, it didn’t seem like you were having the greatest time, either. At least, not by the end.”

Hellfire, right, that’s how Jeff knows Eddie. A vague, blurry memory of seeing them both in those dorky shirts is surfacing.

“It’s not too much,” says Steve. “I don’t mind you asking. Don’t know that I’ve got an answer, though. I just didn’t have a plan like you guys, I guess.”

“Buddy.” Jeff laughs in that nasal way again and claps Steve on the shoulder. “None of us had a plan. I guess I did, a little more than the rest of them, but—I thought I wanted to be an ER doc, you know? Which, damn. Definitely not my scene, as it turns out. You don’t leave your hometown because you already know what you want out of life, even if you think that’s what you’re doing.”

“Getting philosophical in the kitchen?” Eddie appears in the doorway, empty glass dangling from his fingertips. “Congrats on being a cliche, guys.” He’s smiling, and it looks real. Happiness looks good on him.

“What’re you drinking?” says Steve. “Let me top you up.”

[justtluffythings]

HOME: Book 4 - CHAPTER FIVE

MASTERLIST

“Veronica, you drive me up the wall, you know that? You make me genuinely so frustrated, I could kill you.” Artemis paced back and forth in front of her as he massaged his temples in frustration. 

Veronica rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t understand what you want me to do, Art. He’s dating her, yet you continue to tell me he loves me. How does that make any sense?”

Artemis stared at her in disbelief. “As if you didn’t date me last year to try and get over him. And as if I didn’t date you to try and hide the fact that I was gay. Come on, Veronica. The two of us know better than anyone that just because you’re dating one person doesn’t mean you aren’t in love with someone else. But for some reason, you can’t fathom the idea that he’s just as hopelessly in love with you as you are with him. And just like you, he’s too afraid to ruin your friendship because he also thinks you don’t feel the same way. So he dated Aurora last year and now he’s with Tonks. Why? Because he’s trying to get over you.”

“You know, you’re starting to sound a lot like Tonks.”

Artemis sighed. “Fine, don’t believe me. But let me ask you this: what would you be losing now if you told him? You’ve been avoiding him for months, so it’s as if you’ve already lost him. You have nothing to lose now. Best case scenario, he tells you he loves you too, and you two can finally be together. Worst case, he tells you he doesn’t feel the same and things are awkward between you. But they’re already awkward, so nothing would change. So now tell me, what’s your excuse?”

“Let me tell you the flaw in your genius plan, Art. Just because he’s with her now, doesn’t mean he’ll be with her forever. If they break up, then we’ll go back to the way things were, and I’ll have him back. But if I tell him how I feel and he doesn’t feel the same, that’s it. Our friendship will be over. And don’t try to tell me otherwise. We would try to stay friends, but it would just be too awkward. I can’t risk it.”

Artemis closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew this was a hopeless mission; Veronica was just too stubborn. “Whatever Singer, I’m done arguing with you about this. My main concern now is that you’re still avoiding him. Not only are you hurting yourself, but you’re also hurting him. The poor guy doesn’t know what he did wrong because you refuse to tell him, so he’s left in the dark wondering what he could have possibly done to upset you. Why don’t you at least tell him why you’re ignoring him? Tell him you don’t like that he’s dating Tonks.” Art rolled his eyes; Veronica had begun adamantly shaking her head before he even had a chance to finish talking. “Veronica! Why not? He’s your best friend! He would understand. Besides, you have that guy wrapped around your bloody finger, he would do anything you wanted.”

“There, you just answered your own question. I could never do that to him because I care about him so much, and I want him to be happy, even if that isn’t with me and even if it’s with her. If I told him how I felt about it, you’re right. He would absolutely break up with her. But I don’t want to do that to him. I don’t want him to do something he doesn’t want to do. And that’s why I’m avoiding him. I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer; he was bound to see on my face that I wasn’t okay.”

“What are you going to do at Christmas when you go with them to the Burrow? How are you going to possibly avoid him there?” The guilty look on her face made his jaw drop as he stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding! Don’t tell me you’re planning on staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas break.”

“Of course I am, Art. Don’t be ridiculous. Even if I considered telling him how I felt, it wouldn’t be before the break. And like you said, I can’t go to the Burrow if I’ve been avoiding him. It just wouldn’t work.”

“And what are you going to do if Charlie refuses to go to the Burrow without you? When he gets to Hogsmeade Station and realizes you’re taking this avoiding thing as far as to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, I have no doubt that he’ll turn right back around and march his way back to the castle to look for you. If he does that, there’s no way you’ll be able to avoid him during the break when the castle is practically empty and you won’t be able to hide from him the whole time. What are you going to do then?”

Artemis watched as she mulled over the information; it was obvious she hadn’t thought of that outcome. After a while, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll just have to get Bill to make sure he goes. Even if he has to drag him onto the train kicking and screaming.”

Artemis stared at her in shock before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You are unbelievable.”

[favefandomimagines]

Oh (e.b.)

Summary: buck runs into his ex fling, taylor kelly, leaving you to feel like nothing but a second choice

AN: inspired by the winter finale of 911

You were a catch. You were smart, had a good job, beautiful. Guys were lining up to date you and yet the man you wanted to be with didn’t want you.

It seemed to everyone around you that the two of you were meant to be but to Buck, it wasn’t that obvious. He didn’t see how you looked at him, didn’t hear how you talked about him. Clearly, he didn’t know how you felt about him.

So, you stuck it out. You put your feelings on the back burner and just decided to be his friend. If he wanted to be with you, he would.

But you couldn’t ignore the feeling in your chest when he told you he was having dinner with Taylor Kelly.

“We got to talking at that call and then Albert said him and Veronica were having dinner and I just, called and asked if she wanted to come.” Buck explained. “And she said yes?” You asked.

“Yeah, she seemed on board. Maybe this is the universe telling me something.” He said. “The universe? You’ve never believed in that stuff.” You told him. “But this is Buck 3.0. I’m all for a change.” Buck answered. “When is this dinner again?” You asked. “Wednesday at 6.” He said. 

“Oh.” You muttered quietly. Wednesday was your birthday. And it seemed that Buck was caught up in bettering himself and finding someone that he had completely forgotten about you. But you had enough trying to remind him and get him to see that you were right there the whole time. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at the mug in your hands. “You okay?” He asked. “Uh, yeah. I think I’m gonna head home. I have a long shift tomorrow.” You said, rising from your seat.

“You just got here.” Buck pointed out. “Buck, I just, I gotta go.” You said in a more stern manner. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and watched you leave his apartment.

You let out a large sigh as you got in your car before the tears came.

How were you so unlucky that the guy you were head over heels for, wanted someone else? He wanted someone else so much, he forgot about her birthday. When you were right there through everything? You were there through Abby leaving, Ally breaking up with him, the lawsuit against the department, his parents, everything. And yet you were left on the back burner. 

You always put his feelings above your own, not because you felt like you should. But because you cared about him and if he was happy, you were happy. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that he sometimes didn’t give you that same courtesy. 

Your day was like the day from hell. Everything that could go wrong in your line of work, went completely wrong. To make matters worse, you had lost one of your favorite patients. She had stage 3 leukemia but she never let that change her personality. 

She made going to the hospital after shifts worth while because at least you got to spend time with her. But the cancer was too aggressive for the chemo and she died in her sleep that night. You tried not to let losses get to you but she had been your patient since you started volunteering at the hospital. You were really hoping you’d see her remission but the universe had other plans. 

All you wanted to do was lay on the couch with Buck and just cry. You got in your car and dialed his number, getting a few rings before he picked up. “Hey, you!” He greeted you. “Hey, do you maybe want to come over later? I’ve had the worst day. I lost a patient and-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I can’t. I have a date tonight, trying to put myself back out there.” He said. “I can come over after.” He added. “No, forget it. It’s fine.” You said. “You sound upset.” Buck said. “I’m fine, Buck. Enjoy your date.” You replied before hanging up the phone. 

Since that evening, you had been avoiding Buck like the plague. On shifts, you wouldn’t talk to him. Sticking to Chimney and Hen like glue to avoid any conversation with Buck. 

You went so far to ask to ride in the ambulance to calls, rather than in the fire engine like usual. It wasn’t odd for you to be in the ambulance because you were an EMT but you usually rode with the rest of the team.

“Does anyone know why Y/N won’t ride with us anymore?” Buck asked his crew. “Are you that dumb?” Hen asked. “Hen,” Bobby started. “It’s because of you, dude.” Eddie answered. “Me? What did I do?” Buck questioned. “Well, you blow her off all the time, completely ignore her feelings and ditch her for dates and you’re so oblivious you can’t see that she’s totally in love with you.” Eddie explained. “When you were hurt in the hospital, she didn’t come to work for days because she didn’t want you the throw a clot. She had to work triple shifts just to make enough to pay her rent because of all the days she missed sitting with you. Did you ever thank her for that?” Bobby added. “Well, no, but-” He started. 

“And when she lost her favorite patient, Emily, did you ask her if she was okay?” Bobby asked. “I-I couldn’t I had a date. And she didn’t say it was Emily.” Buck said, trying to defend yourself. “If you don’t reciprocate her feelings, that’s fine. But she’s your best friend. And as her best friend, you are supposed to be there when she needs you. She shouldn’t have to explain herself.” Bobby concluded. “You also forgot her birthday.” Chimney added as they all got out of the engine. 

The rest of his shift, Buck tried getting you to talk to him. But it was always, ‘I’m busy, Buck’ or ‘Can’t talk, we’re working.’ He’d given up when he tried to stop you after a call and you had given him a look he had never seen before. 

The guilt was eating him alive. He was a terrible friend to you and he thought being with you was a pipe dream. Until Hen and Eddie told him you loved him. But regardless of your feelings for him, you had done so much for him and he didn’t realize it until you were gone. 

That night, Buck went over to Taylor’s to gain more perspective on what he could do to fix what he royally screwed up. 

“I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t talked to me in weeks. We’ve never gone this long without talking.” Buck explained to Taylor.

“Well, you did forget her birthday. And not give it a second thought that she was hurting over the loss of a patient.” She said. “That’s not helping.” He replied. “You asked for my help and I’m being honest. You really hurt her. She almost got evicted because she was so worried about you. The first person she wanted to be with after her friend died was you and you went on a date instead.” Taylor said. “I know. I tried to talk to her but she won’t answer any of my calls or texts. She won’t even look at me anymore.” Buck said. 

“You are so stupid sometimes.” Taylor laughed. “What?” Buck asked. “She has feelings for you. Why else would she get so upset? If she only saw you as a friend, you would be getting screamed at not avoided.” She explained.

“Everyone keeps saying that but there’s no way Y/N has feelings for me. She’s...perfect. Perfect doesn’t fall for damaged goods.” Buck rebutted. “Trust me, she loves you.” Taylor told him. “And do you love her?” She asked. “Of course I do. But being with her seemed like it was too good to happen so I tried to move on. I guess I tried so hard I ended up hurting her anyways.” Buck answered. 

“Then tell her. And do a whole lot of graveling while you’re at it.” Taylor said. 

Buck quickly left the apartment and got into his car driving like a bat out of hell. When he arrived at your apartment, he didn't even bother to park in the parking stall correctly, his main focus was just getting to you.

When he finally reached your door, he knocked on it rather harshly and heard the sound of your urgent footsteps coming to find out who it was.

"Buck? What are you doing here?" You asked. Buck couldn't even find the words to answer because he was more focused on what you were wearing.

You had on a formed fitting red dress, your hair was curled and flowing over your shoulders and you looked beautiful.

"Wh-Why are you dressed like that?" He stammered. "I have a date." You answered. "You have a date? With who?" Buck asked. "Emily's brother. We became close when Emily had chemo and after she died we kept in tough. Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Don't go on the date. Please, for the love of god, don't go on that date. Because I love you, Y/N. I was too stupid to see it until you weren't around anymore. And I was terrible to you. I was supposed to be your best friend and I was so worried about my own life I dnd't even ask you how you were doing and oh my god I missed your birthday." Buck rambled.

"Slow down, Buckley, and talk to me at a normal rate, please." You said.

Buck took a deep breath and looked at you intently. "I'm in love with you. I-I always have but being with you always seemed like a pipe dream because you're perfect. You have always been perfect and you know that I'm not." Buck explained.

"Exactly. I've seen you at your worst and I still love you but even as your best friend you never gave me the time of day. Missing my birthday to go to dinner with Taylor Kelly. Brushing me off after Emily died because you had a date." You laughed bitterly. "I have stood by you no matter what. But god forbid I need you once in a while." You added.

"And I am so sorry, Y/N. You have every right to be upset with me, I'm upset with me. I'm pissed off at myself because I didn't realize what I had until it was too late." Buck replied. "Evan, do you understand the situation you just put me in? I get to go on a date with a great guy, one who actually pays attention and then the man I've been in love with for years, shows up at my doorstep to tell me he loves me back." You started.

Buck's facial expression fell, fearing the worst and anticipating you telling him that you'd moved on and he was too late.

"And I have to call that guy and tell him that I can't make it. Because the person I actually want to be with is right here." You finished.

The light in Buck's eyes returned at your words, looking at you with a gentle smile.

"Really?" He asked. "Yes, really and please don't make me regret it. You've screwed up a lot lately, let's not add us to the list." You said. "So there's an us now?" Buck questioned. "I-If that's okay with you." You stuttered. "It's absolutely okay with me." Buck said with a smile.

"I guess I got all dressed up for nothing." You sighed, letting Buck inside your apartment.

Buck was quiet for a moment as he watched you take your heels off and your earrings, placing them on the table by the door. "Then let's not make it for nothing. Let me take you out on our first official date." He said.

"Besides, I need to see you in that dress more often." He added a smirk on his face. "Alright then, Buckley. Take me on a date. You have a lot to make up for." You smiled, offering him your hand.

Buck took your hand in his, happily, and held you steady as you put your shoes back on. “Trust me, Y/N, it’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on.” He said. 

In the moment, you laughed at his words but after the date had concluded and all was said and done, it had indeed been the best date you have ever been on. 

[nightingaelic]

New Vegas companions reacting to the courier being mildly deaf?

Upon first meeting the courier, most assumed they were shy. They didn't make eye contact often, they just stared intensely at your mouth, as if trying to physically catch the words that were said. They naturally talked with their hands when they answered questions, but their movements were too animated to be merely emphasis. Most curiously, they avoided talking to anyone who covered their head with a helmet, head wrap or bandanna, and if they absolutely had to, they constantly asked the person in question to repeat themselves. If they were lucky, the confused individual would write down what they were trying to say. If they weren't, the conversation ended prematurely and the courier's face held a look of utter frustration and disappointment for hours.

It wasn't until the third or fourth time the courier ran afoul of a New Vegas Strip Securitron that told them to get out its way that their companion pulled them aside.

Arcade Gannon: "You can't hear them, can you?" Arcade asked, pulling them back from the street where the contingent of House's robots was rolling by.

"I... a little bit," the courier protested, putting a hand to their left ear. "Mostly out of this side. It's been ringing a lot lately, though, and normally I can compensate by just watching their mouth, but with robots..."

Arcade nodded. "You can't lip-read a bot. Sure. Why haven't you gone to the Followers yet?"

"For what?"

"An implant." Arcade furrowed his brow. "Dr. Usanagi has to have something in stock, or she could call in some favors out west and get one sent here."

The courier's hand moved upward again, to the scar that graced their hairline. "I don't think..."

Arcade's eyes widened. "Oh. Sorry. Yeah, that might make things... difficult."

Craig Boone: "Keep your eyes up," Boone said gruffly, after the courier picked themselves up from where the Securitron had tossed them after they failed to move quickly enough.

"I can't have my eyes on everything and everyone inside the Strip," the courier grumbled. "It's not my fault. There's enough people here today to drown out the feel of robot wheels on asphalt. And where were you, spotter?"

Boone softened, but less than an inch. "It might not be your fault, but it won't matter if the thing you miss is the thing that does you and your partner in. Don't lose track of House's muscle when you're in New Vegas."

"I wish they had muscles," the courier groaned. "Specifically facial muscles. It'd make things a whole lot easier."

"Let's do our business and get out of town quickly," Boone answered, giving everyone in the near vicinity a look of distrust. "Too many people means too many opportunities to miss something important."

Lily Bowen: "Is your hearing going, dearie?" Lily asked, clearly concerned at the prospect. "Grandma was lucky enough to keep hers, but plenty of her friends' hearing started to go after turning 60."

"I'm fine," the courier insisted, brushing their coat off. "It's nothing I can't handle or work around."

Lily thought for a minute as they removed the rest of the dust from their outfit. "You know, pumpkin, it's okay to need help sometimes."

The courier gave her a sour look. "Not in the Mojave, it's not."

"Even in the Mojave," Lily chided. "Some people are big and strong, like Grandma. Others are small and sneaky. Some people can't see, or can't walk, and some people can't eat or drink or go to the bathroom without help. Some people can't hear."

"Lily..."

"Listen to your grandma." Lily patted their head. "Some people need help, and they deserve it. Let Grandma help you watch out for robots, next time."

The courier sighed and looked up at her sadly. "Okay. But... you should think about taking your own advice, Lily."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Earth to Courier Six," Raul said with a chuckle. "Mr. House's minions don't have time to scoop you onto the sidewalk every time they roll through, you know."

The courier rolled their eyes and retrieved their pack from where it had fallen. "Chingate. And I don't have time to move out of the way whenever they need to break up a fight in Gomorrah."

Raul examined his fingers with mock interest. "Shame they don't speak the bridge talk you do. I don't know if their pequeñas garras could manage it, though."

The courier's eyes widened, and a smile grew beneath them. "Bridge talk? Never heard it called that, before."

"Eh, lingua franca, common-speak, whatever it's going by now." Raul waved his hand, then shot out a few quick signs: "man," "woman," "eat". "Don't know much of it myself, but I know it when I see it. Used to belong to the Plains tribes alone, and now it's everywhere."

"Everywhere except the Mojave." The courier made a face. "Why is that?"

Raul shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe they all got sick of being tossed around by robots, too."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass let go of the courier briefly to bang a fist on the side of the nearest departing Securitron. "Assholes! House can afford to be late!"

She grabbed the courier again and ducked behind a pack of tourists before the Securitron could pinpoint her. "Six, you have to stick by me," she insisted. "I know you're only firing on one cylinder in the sound department."

"I am fine," the courier insisted, wiggling out of her grasp.

"You are not." Cass seized them again. "I've known plenty of NCR vets who were discharged with heads full of nightmares, missing limbs and a lifelong case of tinnitus or no hearing at all. By my guess, you're somewhere in the middle of those last two, and I'll be damned if you get done in by a robotic security team after you had the gall to crawl out of your own grave and kick the leader of the Chairmen's ass."

"Well what do you want me to do, Cass?" the courier protested, their hands flying with the emotion. "No one here understands. Everyone else in the Mojave with hearing problems is too poor to wander around the Strip, or too dead to care!"

Instead of responding, Cass watched their fingers, making shapes. Shapes she'd seen before. Something clicked, and she reached out to grab their hands. "Plains talk," she said breathlessly.

"What?"

"Plains talk!" Cass was grinning. "My mom knew it. God, I'm stupid."

Veronica Santangelo: Rather than chastise the courier, Veronica watched them pick themselves up and make a series of angry motions with their hands toward the departing robots.

"You're talking," she said with wonder, when they finally turned back to her.

"Huh?"

"With your hands." Veronica imitated the last sign they'd made. "What does it mean?"

The courier blushed. "Um. Maybe don't make that sign in public, unless you're really, really angry at someone."

"Starting with swear words, as you always should when learning a new language," Veronica replied brightly. "Why don't you just use the sign language more?"

"Because, Veronica, people here don't speak it." The courier sighed. "You get English, Spanish, some tribal languages, but I've only met two people who knew the signs I know. I'm still not sure where it comes from. After I woke up in Doc Mitchell's office, I thought I was crazy for a bit. Like I had this whole, made-up language in my head that no one else could speak."

Veronica put a hand on their shoulder and squeezed it. "Teach me. We'll speak it together."

ED-E: ED-E had learned early on that beeping was no use with the courier, so it did the next best thing it could and gently bounced its dome off their shoulder and arms, tilting its speaker toward them with concern.

The courier, eyes brimming with tears, grabbed the eyebot in both hands and pressed their forehead to it, as if holding the face of a loved one. "I wish I wasn't like this," they muttered.

ED-E held still until their pain had subsided, and it floated close behind them when they arose and moved on.

Rex: Rex barked his anger at the departing Securitrons, then turned to look up at the courier and whine.

They ruffled the fur on his neck and crouched down to put their arms around him. "It's okay, buddy. You can't warn me every time someone big comes up behind me. Thanks for watching my back."

[imreallyloveleee]

any theories for rivervale/ riverdale? How do you think the show will continue after 6x05?

hmmmm well i shared my theory about tabitha killing betty, that's the main one! other random thoughts:

- i think we will probably get an extremely boring explanation for why they're in Rivervale. like, "the bomb went off and pushed everyone into this alternate timeline!! crazy!!" with no explanation for why a homemade bomb under someone's bed would do such a thing

- i think whatever triggers Jughead into realizing something's ~wrong will have something to do with Betty. like - his "best friend" being sacrificed in a cult ritual wasn't enough to do it lol. so, what would? probably something related to the person he cares about most. either her dying, or maybe her killing someone herself.

- i think in 6x06 we'll be back with these miserable ships. and the physical effects of Rivervale (like people being dead) will no longer be relevant, but a lot of the emotional resonance will remain - so i think we're going to see the same emotional issues play out (ie betty and archie don't actually want the same things; veronica does not respect reggie; tabitha and jughead have zero romantic connection and she's insecure about betty; fangs and toni are....uh, whatever they are). i think we're basically going to see these relationships fall apart. which is EXTREMELY ANNOYING, because we already are seeing them fail once in Rivervale, why do we have to watch them fail again.

- i don't expect b*rchie to last for very long. RAS made a comment about there being more of them "in a way" and didn't really seem to be trying to play them up the way he has in the past. same for v*ggie.

- j*bitha may last longer, especially since we know they're together as of 6x08. seems like they continue to have relationship issues, though, so i'm hopeful it's also not for much longer than that. i have a hard time imagining they will drag that out over the entire season because...there's just so little to it? they have no chemistry, they look actively uncomfortable onscreen together, and they don't seem to have much in common other than a love for Pop Tate.

- sorry this is all so negative! ultimately i do think Bughead will be back on track by the end of the season, but it's anyone's guess how long that takes. <3

[nightingale-interactive]

Tabloid shot of Scandal MC and Dr. Grey/Dr. Sloan making out—Christian and Alcina’s reactions please ✨

I just love starting up drama between these DILFs/MILFs 🤣

This was really fun to write and I hope that it's okay. It may not be the best thing but if it makes you smile then I've done my duty as a writer.

Dr. Peter Grey and Dr. Ivy Sloan belong to the wonderfully talented @bouncyballcitadel; someone that I consider to be a dear friend.

Scandael Forever!!!

Christian and Peter:

The paper lay balled in a corner on the other side of the room. Black and white meshing together to make a monotonous landscape that was only intercepted by splashes of red. A bright color that pulled anyone's eye to it; that had pulled his secretaries eye to it.

He didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to even consider that what he saw printed on the front cover was true. He's been in politics long enough to know that reporters would do anything, and everything, to get a story.

But, even he, couldn't deny that there was no way for the picture to falsified. The heated lip-lock between a man he considered a brother and the woman that owned his heart.

Dropping his head into his hands, Christian draws in another ragged breath. Trying to stem the ever-growing presence of tears from his eyes. He was the President of the United States of America; he couldn't be weak. Couldn't allow himself the privileges of a man that wasn't shackled to his duty.

Even if he had always held hope in doing just that.

With her, his mind whispers. A dark tune against his once hopeful melody. You planned out the future with her. Were willing to give up everything for her and she does this? With your best friend? What are you going to do, pretty boy?

Opening his eyes, Christian only fumbles for a moment to find the buzzer to signal Veronica to enter. Barely even glancing at her as the door swings hesitantly open to allow her entrance.

"Cancel my plans for today, Veronica," he orders briskly. "I want to have a meeting with a few personnel that owes me favors."

Veronica nods. "Right away, Mr. President."

He was about to let her leave when another thought whispers across his mind.

"Veronica?"

"Yes, Mr. President?"

"Revoke security clearance to our resident fixer. I don't believe we'll be needing her services any longer."

Veronica hesitates but nods all the same. "Of course, Mr. President."

Alcina and Ivy:

Her phone rings for the hundredth time but Alcina doesn't even give it a second glance. Doesn't even have to wonder who was calling her so incessantly for the past hour.

As there was only one person that had ripped her heart out today-- well two but it wasn't a surprise with one of them.

Rolling her eyes, as the ringing finally ends, Alcina thumbs through her book trying to find where she had left off. Only to be interrupted, once again, by the ringing of her phone. Having enough, as all she wanted to do was read and forget about today, she stands from her lounged position and picks up her nuisance of a phone.

Her breath catches as she sees the oh-so-familiar name flashing across its screen. A name that never once failed to bring a smile, no matter how big, to her lips brought nothing but the crushing sense of betrayal now.

Donning her political mask, one that she never thought she'd have to put on for her, Alcina answers the phone.

"What the hell do you want?" She snarls. "I'm trying to enjoy my evening but a certain nuisance won't stop calling me."

The woman on the other end of the phone audibly shifts. Alcina could just imagine her sitting in her home office, fiddling with a trinket that Ivy probably didn't even know the origins of, and tries to fight the innate smile that comes into fruition because of it.

"Alcina--"

"Let me save you the trouble, Dr. Sloan," Alcina easily interrupts. Not having the willpower to listen to excuses or apologies. "You kissed the love of my life and now you're trying to make amends, correct? Even though we both know that I will never forgive you. Nor will I ever look at you the same way again."

"Alcina plea--"

"Ivy, just stop!" She can't help the desperate edge to her voice now. Her eyes falling shut as she tries to retain the composure that was quickly crumbling. "I don't need your words because your actions have already spoken loud enough. Just take care of her, all right? Make sure that she doesn't overwork herself too much. And make sure she does the same for you."

There's a moment of silence and Alcina almost hangs up, but there's one more thing she has to say.

"I hope not telling me was worth it, Ivy," she murmurs softly. "Because I loved you both with my entire heart. I just wish you would have given me the same courtesy."

With that Alcina disconnects the call and turns off her phone. Tossing it somewhere in the room that she couldn't bring herself to care about.

No, she needed to read and forget about today.

She had to.

[veronicamarsconfessions]

Editor’s Note: TV moves on, but we haven’t. In our feature series It Still Stings, we relive emotional TV moments that we just can’t get over. You know the ones, where months, years, or even decades later, it still provokes a reaction? We’re here for you. We rant because we love. Or, once loved. And obviously, when discussing finales in particular, there will be spoilers:

There was a time when Veronica Mars’ legacy was that of a beloved cult show that was canceled too soon by network executives who didn’t understand it. With the arrival of a crowd-funded feature film in 2014, its legacy evolved as one of the first shows to see the benefits of a revival. Now, it simply brings thoughts of sadness, rage, and betrayal.

When Hulu first announced it was reviving the series for an eight-episode fourth season, the news was met with resounding joy from a vocal and passionate fanbase that had never given up hope it would return after the crowd-funded feature film reunited Kristen Bell’s Veronica, a pint-sized private eye with a sharp mind and even sharper wit, with her one true love, the reformed bad boy Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring). But the fire that had burned for more than a decade and twice-revived the show was suddenly extinguished in a single, heartbreaking, and wholly unnecessary moment when Logan was killed by a bomb left in Veronica’s car shortly after the couple exchanged wedding vows.

I can still remember the shock I felt when I reached the end of the screeners Hulu sent. The whole thing felt kind of surreal, like if I didn’t acknowledge what had happened out loud maybe it didn’t actually happen. But it did happen. And I’m still filled with a fiery rage and a deep sadness when I think about it now, nearly two years removed from the episode in question, because needlessly killing Logan was a betrayal of the worst kind. The character’s untimely demise felt engineered for nothing more than shock value, like it existed only to leave Veronica even more isolated and cynical. But the interviews that series creator Rob Thomas gave in the aftermath, in which he tried to defend the decision, revealed something much worse while only driving the knife he’d stuck in fans’ backs deeper.

“In order for us to keep doing these, I think it needs to become a detective show—a noir, mystery, detective show—and those elements of teenage soap need to be behind us,” Thomas told TV Guide of the decision to kill Logan, noting that he also hoped to take Veronica out of Neptune and on the road in potential future seasons. “I sort of viewed these eight episodes as a bridge to what Veronica Mars might be moving forward.”

Instead of being a bridge to the future, it was a bridge to a grave of Thomas’ own making. Not since How I Met Your Mother ignored literal years of character development to deliver a half-cooked series finale the creators had come up with several years prior has a show felt so out of touch with its characters, the story it was telling, and its fans. Thomas’ decision to kill Logan is the perfect example of a creator being unable to recognize their own biases to the detriment of their creation.

He wrongly believed that Veronica needed to be hardened by years of nonstop torment and trauma in order to prove she was a great detective whose story was worth continuing. In putting her through the emotional wringer (again) after spending the entire season attempting to dig into her flaws and determine the root of her problems, Thomas swiftly undermined his heroine and her trauma with one misguided act of devastating violence. The fact that Thomas then chose to also skip over Veronica’s grieving process entirely reveals how little he ultimately thought of Logan or Veronica’s relationship with him, which had pushed her to be better and work through her longtime trust issues.

It is common knowledge by now that Logan was not intended to be Veronica’s love interest when the show debuted, but the fans took to the character more than they took to Teddy Dunn’s Duncan “He Used to Be My Boyfriend” Kane, so the latter was jettisoned from the show after Season 2. And in the end, Logan turned out to be a much better partner and match for Veronica’s personality. So what’s truly unfortunate about Thomas killing Logan, and killing him so violently, is that his thought process during Season 4 has the potential to color everything that happened in the show up until the moment the bomb went off. There is also the issue that Thomas apparently believed that Veronica achieving some level of romantic happiness was a one-way ticket to the grave, as if shows like Friday Night Lights hadn’t already soundly debunked the myth that happy couples did not make great TV.

Obviously an emotional family drama does not play by the same rules as noir, but Veronica Mars had already proven that you don’t need to play firmly within the sandbox of the genre to excel creatively. So why should the more adult version of the show attempt to put itself back in the box to be confined to something more traditional or stereotypical? Furthermore, love and contentment are not character flaws or weaknesses. They are not an element of “teenage soap,” as Thomas put it. In fact, one could argue that by allowing herself to believe that she and Logan could have a happy future together regardless of everything she’d witnessed in her line of work, Veronica had shown more personal and emotional growth in the show’s fourth season than she had in the entire run of the series.

At the heart of the matter, though, is one simple, glaring truth: Logan’s death was a fundamental misreading of the entire Veronica Mars fandom and what they liked about the show. Storytelling should never be dictated by the fans and their desires—one of the loudest and most common complaints critics had about the movie was that it felt too much like Thomas was just giving the fans what they wanted rather than attempting to tell a good story—but when your fandom has dug their hands into the cold soil of the TV graveyard to raise your show from the dead, you should probably have a grasp on what exactly the fans like about it in the first place. After all, they’re the reason you still exist and will be one of the final arbiters of whether or not you get to continue to exist in the future. And the idea that fans would somehow be interested in watching a version of Veronica Mars in which Veronica was on the road, completely alone, and Logan was blown to bits is just a wild miscalculation.

This isn’t to suggest Veronica Mars could not ever survive without Logan. That would be to undercut the rest of the show and the woman Veronica has become since we first saw her cutting Wallace (Percy Daggs III) off the flagpole in the series’ pilot. But there is a difference in writing Logan out of the show’s ongoing story arc—his secretive Naval career offered the perfect out—and violently killing him in an attempt to shock viewers and show just how resilient your heroine is in the face of trauma. A survivor of rape who had to solve the murder of her best friend (Amanda Seyfried) while still in high school because the sheriff’s department was too inept to do it (or simply did not care to do it), Veronica had already been through more in her young life than anyone should ever have to live through.

Although Logan’s death led to her finally seeing a therapist, it seemed to be a one-time thing, so nothing has really changed. Veronica is still the same person she was before the show returned, except now she’s also a widow and Thomas has alienated an entire fanbase to the point that many fans, though likely not all, have no interest in revisiting her story. And they’re not likely to either, since Hulu chose not to move forward with another season.

So much for that bridge to the future.

[neon-angels-system]

fuck it Heathers (the musical, 2014) infodump time

TW/CW: In-depth discussion of fictional suicide + murder framed as suicide, bullying, abuse, and similar fucked up shit! Also, extensive spoilers for Heathers (the musical), which you should definitely check out if you’re not sensitive to these issues.

Hey so are we all in agreement that Heathers (the musical, 2014) is insanely good at making complex villains who are like. So likeable and so hateable? Jason Dean / JD is one of the most iconic figures in Heathers. He has a tragic backstory, but more importantly, constantly lies and manipulates Veronica into helping him with crimes, and then turns around and does puppy eyes at her until she forgives him. He sees her his saviour, his god, and at the same time, someone who should be grateful that she gets to have a relationship with him (Meant to be Yours - “You chucked me out like I was trash, for that you should be dead- But! but! but!”), and as a naïve fool who just needs to learn that murder is okay! He’s got some of the best lines in the musical, and because of his tragic backstory, manages to convince Veronica and the audience that he can be redeemed, that he’s just been lead astray. But, if you look at his pattern of behaviour, he constantly ignores Veronica’s wishes, and purposefully lies to her in order to kill Ram and Kurt without her realising. Taking him on a few romantic dates and seeing a therapist isn’t going to change the fact that he sees only himself, and eventually Veronica, as real people worthy of living.

Having said that, Veronica’s not entirely blameless. She assisted in the murder / coverup of the murder of three people. She could have called the police the first time around, but she didn’t. She also assisted in the bullying of her childhood friend (even if she felt bad about it), made some less than admirable comments, and seems to be focused only on herself and those in her immediate vicinity. She does get a slight pass because she’s a vessel for us to observe the story, and it’d be a lot less interesting if she was a purely good person! She seems to half like, half an agency, but at least her motivations are somewhat understandable. Kurt and Ram - Hateable jocks who are kinda stereotypical, love the ‘dead gay sons’ bit though. Could have been used better for the purpose they were trying to go for?

And, of course, the namesake antagonists: the Heathers. Honestly, I just want to gush about Heather Duke. The start of the song ‘Yo Girl’ has one of the most effective ways of making me hate Heather Duke in just two sentence I can think of. She’d done a lot of bad things before that, but hearing the line ‘Just another geek trying to imitate the popular people and failing miserably’ after the song Kindergarten Boyfriend and after seeing Martha get ridiculed and bullied by the Heathers throughout the entire musical? It’s so fucked up, and I love it. I should note that she also dismisses Heather Mcnamara’s emotional admission and bullies her into attempting suicide literally one song prior, and the line ‘Aww look, Heather’s going to whine, whine, whine all night!’ is stuck in my head on loop, but I think the opening to Yo Girl just has so much more foreshadowing in it, and it just said so fucking offhandedly. I think Shine a Light (Reprise) has a stronger effect overall, but no one line in it has as much impact as the dismissal of Martha ‘trying to imitate the popular kids’. It does prove that she views anyone who shows weakness as useless and as someone who might as well kill themselves no matter their social standing though, so the fact that she accuses Martha of being a geek trying to imitate “the popular kids” stings even more. It seems like no matter who it was, she simply wouldn’t care. I guess it stings even more because H. Chandler was initially made out to the the most evil of the Heathers, with H. Duke’s introduction being her throwing up in a toilet, the most vulnerable of the Heathers. Of course, H. Mcnamara is painted out as the ‘good Heather’, despite her absolutely contributing to the Heathers’ bullying, but H. Duke doesn’t seem like the biggest threat. The moment H. Chandler dies however, she steps right up to fill the role of mythic bitch. I honestly love how effectively the songwriters made her hateable, and I think it stands as a very good ‘kick the puppy’ moment that doesn’t feel unreasonably forced. Anyway in short stan Heathers <3 Martha is the only good person but man do they have some loveable evil motherfuckers. DISCLAIMER: I wrote this in like an hour while listening to the soundtrack, I haven’t watched the full musical in like forever, and this is the only version I’ve seen (although I know about the other). So, I probably got some shit Wrong. Feel free to chime in with corrections and more insights! I’ll probably add more later as well!

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Ten

“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo. "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

Previous Chapters HERE

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

March 10th, 1990, 11:54am

Seventeen year-old Oliver Ward sighs, glancing mindlessly out the window of the old retirement home and fighting a yawn.  

It isn’t that he doesn’t love his Saturday mornings spent with his ninety one year-old companion, because he does.  In fact, most Saturdays he forgets that this is even an extra credit assignment at all.  He knows, of course, how terrific this is going to look on his college applications-- but he doesn’t think of it like that.   Over the past month or so, he’s befriended the older gentleman he’s been assigned by his AP psychology teacher, and the old man has taken a liking to him as well.  Most Saturdays, Oliver loses track of the time because he finds himself lost in some story the old man is sharing with him.  

This Saturday, however, Oliver doesn’t much feel like socializing.

It isn’t anyone’s fault but his own. Not really, at least. The previous night had been spent tossing and turning in bed, with a total of two non-consecutive hours of sleep. He’s exhausted, he’s bummed, and he’s pretty sure he’s lost the girl of his dreams.

“Awful talkative today, aren’t you?”  The older gentleman speaks in his thick accent from his spot on his recliner, drawing Oliver from his thoughts and startling him.

Oliver turns, softening when he sees the man’s understanding smile.  He chuckles sheepishly. “Sorry, Mr. Styles. Got a lot on my mind I guess.”

The gentleman— Mr. Styles— nods knowingly. “Well, I figured as much,” he says. “And I know how that goes. Do you want to talk about it?”

Oliver sighs again, moving closer to Mr. Styles.  “I’m afraid it’ll bore you, sir.  And I’m not sure you’d understand.”

Mr. Styles grins a dimpled grin, with a twinkle in his eye.  “Try me.”

That’s something that Oliver loves about Mr. Styles. He’s never judged Oliver, no matter how silly he thinks he sounds, and honestly he gives better advice than anyone Oliver has ever known.  He seems to have an air of mystery about him-- he always has-- and Oliver is sure that Mr. Styles knows at least two secrets of the universe that he’s keeping to himself.

So he shrugs, taking a seat on the bed beside the old man. “Okay.  So. There’s…. a girl.”

Mr. Styles nods understandingly. “Always is, isn’t there?”

“She’s the grade below me. She’s my best friend, but lately it’s been…. I don’t know, kinda more than that?  I  think?”

“Mutually?”

“Yeah, I mean…” Oliver fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah. We’ve been hanging out and stuff.  Even kissed a few times.”

Mr. Styles wiggles his eyebrows. “Oooh, I see.”

“But lately I feel like…” Olivier sighs. “I don’t know. Like she’s getting bored with me.”

Mr. Styles sits back further in his seat, reminiscent of a therapist in his comfy chair. “What makes you say that?”

“I think she wants me to like… commit.”

“Ah.” The old man chuckles. “I see.”

Oliver eyes the older gentleman, curious as to how Mr. Styles could possibly understand any of this. As far as Oliver knows, Mr. Styles has never been married. A few times, he’s mentioned a girl from his youth, but never anyone after that. All Oliver knew about the girl is that she up and left, leaving poor Mr. Styles alone and heartbroken. And truth be told, Oliver had always found it silly how Mr. Styles had never moved on from that.

Oliver shrugs. “Anyway… I dunno. She’s been playing hard to get recently, like maybe she’s bored with me?  Like, she flirts and stuff, but then when it doesn’t go further I feel like she gets annoyed.  And...I want to commit, but what if I’m getting mixed signals, you know? I mean like, what if that’s not actually what she wants? You feel me? What if I ruin what we have going by trying to label it?  And besides,” he sighs, “I find out soon if I got into Syracuse. And if I did get in, I would start there in the fall. What if she doesn’t want to do the long distance thing?”

Mr. Styles chuckles wittingly, but not in a condescending way.  “Well first of all, son, I think you’re completely overthinking this.”

This brings a smile to Oliver’s face. “I have been known to do that.”

“That being said, you seem to really like this girl.  And from the sound of things, she likes you as well.  Am I wrong?”

“Well, that’s the thing.  We’ve kissed and stuff, but like, what if I’m reading it wrong?”

“How can you possibly read a kiss wrong?”  Mr. Styles grins.

Oliver sighs.  “You’re right.  I know.  Feelings are just… really hard.”

“Who is the lucky lady anyway?”  Mr. Styles settles further into his seat.  “Can’t say I recall you ever mentioning having a girl.”

“Her name is Roni,” Oliver says.   “Well, Veronica. She goes to my school.  I think I may have mentioned that.”

Oliver has launched deeply into the backstory of how he and this girl met, completely unaware of the way that Mr. Styles’ face has gone entirely ghostly white.  The old man is frozen in his chair, unblinking, and hardly listening to a word Oliver has said.

He doesn’t even realize he’s cutting Oliver off when he speaks.  “I’m sorry… what did you say her name was?”

“Roni?”

“Last name?” Mr. Styles presses.

“Uhh… Elliot?”

If Mr. Styles didn’t look ill before, he certainly does now.  Oliver takes notice of this, rising to his feet. “Mr. Styles, are you alright?”

Mr. Styles blinks a few times, his breath heavy as shakes his head.  For whatever reason, he won’t look at Oliver now.  He looks at the wall, out the window, at the floor-- literally anywhere but at his young companion.  Oliver begins to grow worried, and he steps towards Mr. Styles, putting a concerned hand on his back.

“Should I call the nurse?”

It’s when Oliver asks this that Mr. Styles seems to regain some sense of consciousness back.  He blinks up at Oliver, almost like a curious little child, and shakes his head-- as if reminding himself to be present.  “No,” he says quietly.  “No, don’t call the nurse.”

“You’re scaring me,” Oliver admits.  “Where did you just go?”

Mr. Styles swallows thickly, eyes growing misty.  “You said… Veronica Elliot?”

Oliver nods.  “That’s right.”

The way that Mr. Styles scans Oliver’s face makes him grow anxious, and it becomes apparent that Oliver wants to let go and perhaps take a step back.  He’s a good kid though-- one who genuinely cares for Mr. Styles-- so he stays put.  “Sir?”

Mr. Styles lets out a shaky breath, obviously still processing everything that’s going on, before looking back up at Oliver  “I just--”  He trails off, noting for the first time the worry in the young boy’s eyes.  He softens just a bit.  

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Oliver says.  “I can call the nurse, it’s not a big deal!  I just--”

“No,” Mr. Styles says, suddenly seeming more like himself than before.  “No, there will be no need for that, son.”

Oliver hesitantly relaxes, still keeping his eyes trained on Mr. Styles’ face. “What just happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Mr. Styles says, the slightest bit of color slowly returning to his face.  “I just… knew her mum.  That’s all.”

“Oh!”  Oliver seems to take this as an acceptable answer, obviously relaxing again.  “Yeah.  Her mom died like, five years ago actually.  It was super sad.  Car accident.”

“Five years ago,” Mr. Styles repeats, more to himself than to Oliver.  “God.”

“Yeah,” Oliver says, nodding.  “She’s okay! Lives with her grandparents. They’re super cool.”  He smiles suddenly, as if remembering something.  “They like me a lot.”

Mr. Styles smiles absently.  “I’ll bet they do,” he says gently.

“Anyway,” Oliver sighs,  “I don’t know.  Do you think I should go for it?”

Mr. Styles takes his time with his answer, still trying to process everything he’s hearing.  Oliver seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, which is good because he doesn’t notice the dampness of Mr. Style’s eyes.

What Oliver doesn’t know is that Mr. Styles is reliving every memory he has with the same girl Oliver is fretting over.  Mr. Styles is suddenly twenty-five years old again, in 1925, dancing in his living room with the girl from the future, and he’s young and head over heels in love with her.  He’s remembering everything that the young girl had told him about her timeline, about the boy named Oliver who was waiting in the future for her-- who befriended her shortly after her mother passed and asked her to be his girlfriend just before he graduated.  

This all checks out, and it makes Mr. Styles’ heart feel something it hasn’t felt in ages.  He blinks a few times, trying to clear out the moisture in his eyes.  

“Well,” Mr. Styles says, after a long pause.  “I think that… life is too short to let something so good pass you by.   Do you really like her?”

“So much, Mr. Styles.”  Oliver nods eagerly.  “And I think she likes me too, I’m just scared.”

Mr. Styles shakes his head, doing his best to cover up the shakiness in his own voice.  “Don’t be.  You need to make this girl your own.  You never know what tomorrow holds.  You don’t want to lose her, and spend the rest  of your days wishing you still had the chances that you have now.”

Oliver can tell that Mr. Styles is deep in his own head now, and he debates even speaking at all.  Mr. Styles continues on.  “Can’t even begin to tell you how much I wish I could go back and change some things.  Make some better decisions.”

“I know what you mean,” Oliver says, even though he really doesn’t.  How could he?

“And,” Mr.  Styles says, making an effort to sound less philosophical--less introspective-- and more human, “from the sounds of things, she really likes you, too, son.”

Oliver smiles.  “Yeah?”  

“Yeah.”  Mr. Styles swallows a lump in his throat.  “Take my advice, and don’t mess this up with her.  She sounds like a once in a lifetime kind of girl.”

“But what if--”

“No more ‘what if!’”  Mr. Styles sounds more stern than Oliver has ever heard him, and it takes Oliver aback.  “Get her.  Love her.  Love her now. You don’t realize how important she is, Oliver.  These feelings are real.  These feelings make life worth living.  You can’t pass them up because you’re too scared.”

“And if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“She does.”  Mr. Styles softens as soon as he speaks, as if realizing he’s being far too blunt.  “Oliver, she does.  Trust me on this one.”  

Oliver opens his mouth, then closes it.  Mr. Styles somehow seems to read his mind, and he continues speaking.  “Make her your girl.”

“You really think I should?”  Oliver asks quietly.

“I know you should.”

After a brief pause in which the two stand seemingly at a hold, Mr. Styles clears his throat  gently.

“Don’t let her pass you by,” he says, for emphasis.

Oliver smiles, nodding his head in finality.  “Alright,” he says.  “You’re right, Mr. Styles.  I can’t let her pass me by, can I?  I really like her, and--”

“And I know she likes you, too.”

“Yeah.  I’m gonna call her.”  

Oliver moves like he’s going to leave the room, stopping abruptly as if realizing that he’s here because of school.  The two seem to have the thought at the same time-- that Oliver is getting college credit just for spending a few hours a weekend with Mr. Styles, and they laugh awkwardly together.

“Sorry,” Oliver says.  “I didn’t mean to--”

“You know what you can do for me, son?”  There’s a smile on Mr. Styles’  face, but there is a serious edge to his tone of voice.  “Genuinely?”

“Anything,” Oliver says.  “Anything you need.”

“Bring her in.”  Mr. Styles smiles, contrasting Oliver’s confused expression.  “Bring her in, and let me meet her.  Hm?  Would love to meet her.”

“Yeah?”

Mr. Styles nods.  “Yeah,” he says, somewhat absently, but with a smile for Oliver nonetheless.  “Would love to see the young lady that’s done such a number on you.”

Oliver laughs, and even Mr. Styles lets out a personable chuckle-- as if he’s in on some joke that Oliver didn’t know he was keeping.

“I suppose I could bring her in,” Oliver says,  “but again, I don’t want it to be weird--”

“It won’t be,” Mr. Styles says.  The playful gleam still lingers in his eyes.  “What, am I not interesting enough for her?”

Oliver laughs.  “No, no! She’ll love you!”

The words hit the old gentleman’s heart in a way that Oliver doesn’t notice.

She did love him.  She does. She just isn’t aware of that yet.

“I hope you’re right,” Oliver adds. “About all of this, I mean. I hope she does like me and I’m not just… I dunno, reading too far into it?”

“I can assure you that you aren’t, Oliver.”

There is no trace of doubt on Mr. Styles face, and it makes Oliver both nervous and reassured.  He smiles.  “Alright then,” he says.  “I’ll talk to her.”

Mr. Styles relaxes into his chair, nodding his head in finality.  “Alright then,” he echoes.  “Good man.”

Oliver returns once again for his weekly visit the following Saturday, only this time, he’s hand in hand with his new girlfriend of four whole days.  He’d taken Mr. Styles’ advice and asked her to be his after confessing everything he was feeling for her.  She, of course, felt the same way, and though it didn’t come as a surprise to Oliver it did come as a great relief.

Roni hadn’t seemed as thrilled to go share the news with Mr. Styles, however, once Oliver brought it up.

“Why did we have to come so early though?” Sixteen year-old Roni whines, as she and her new boyfriend Oliver make their way into the Senior Citizen’s home.  “Like, couldn’t we have come in the afternoon?  I’m sure Mr. Style wouldn’t even know the difference.”

Oliver chuckles.  “It’s Mr. Styles,” he corrects, “With an S.  And he seemed really excited about this! This is the time he gave me, so this is the time we’re here.”

“Why was he so excited anyway?” Roni asks, picking at a hangnail on her thumb.  “He doesn’t even know me.”

“No,” Oliver says, “but he knows me.  And he helped me out a lot! Gave me a lot of advice about you.  Least I can do is introduce him, you know?”

“I guess,” Roni mumbles to herself as Oliver checks in at the front desk.

Everyone here seems to brighten at Oliver’s presence.  All the little old ladies know him by name, and he’s quite the charmer.  It’s one of the reasons Roni likes him so much, really.  He talks so fondly about his Saturday’s spent here, and Roni can’t think of a single person his age who would enjoy it as much as he does. It’s cute the way he gushes about Mr. Styles, and how he had mentioned him when he’d asked Roni to be his girlfriend-- officially-- four days ago.  

Truly, Roni feels like she owes a lot to this Mr. Styles, and she really can understand why he would want to meet her.  The least she can do is thank him for telling Oliver to man up and commit already.

Oliver clips his badge to the collar of his shirt and gives Roni a little visitor’s sticker on which he’s scribbled her name with a green sharpie.  He’s dotted the “i” with a little heart, and it makes Roni’s cheeks grow hot when she notices.  He smiles, nodding his head towards the receptionist and interlacing his fingers with Roni’s.

Roni follows her boyfriend down the long hallways, into the elevator (where she has a mini makeout session with him because, come on, who could resist him when he’s looking this cute?) and onto the third floor.

He leads her out into the hallway, trying his best to dismiss how flushed and messy he looks (honestly, Roni takes pride in her work) and giving Roni’s hand a subtle squeeze as they walk along.

Roni looks at the doors as they walk, subconsciously counting the numbers in her head  304, 305, 306… each room an entire home to these people.  Each room a final resting place for all of them.

Oliver stops walking in front of door 310, and suddenly Roni grows nervous.  Her stomach seems to do cartwheels as Oliver smiles down at her.  “You’re gonna love him,” he says quietly, as if to reassure her.  “He’s the coolest.”

Before Roni even has time to reply, Oliver is rapping his knuckles against the large wooden door.  Two quick knocks, followed by one that seems out of rhythm with the other two.

After a few seconds, nothing happens. Roni shifts her weight to her other foot and waits, somewhat impatiently, wanting nothing more than to go home and make out with her boyfriend.  Oliver seems to feel her energy, giving her side a few playful yet charged squeezes that make her giggle.

“No!” she squeaks, squirming out of his grasp.  “Don’t do that here!”

The door opens as Roni is mid giggle, and she and Oliver are met with a little old man, hunched over and looking at them with a warm and expectant smile.  He’s dressed nicer than Harry’s ever seen him dress, and on his head rests a little gray cap that’s probably as old as he is.

“Oliver,” the old man says by way of a greeting.  And then he looks at Roni.  

The reaction he has to Roni is strange to say the least.  It doesn’t make Roni uncomfortable by any means, but something in his demeanor shifts, and he seems to grow a hundred times more serious.  His stare is intense; so much so that it makes Roni shift her gaze.  His eyes seem to grow strangely misty, and his jaw begins trembling-- as if he’s about to cry.

He looks at Roni like he’s known her all his life, and it’s strange.  She almost feels bad that she doesn’t recognize him as well.

She clears her throat, trying to lighten up the now tense silence.   ‘Hi!” she says, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and holding out her hand.  “I’m Roni.”

Mr. Styles swallows audibly, his trembling jaw hardly calming as a smile tugs on the corners of his lips.  “Roni,” he says.  He takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze, never once removing his eyes from hers.  “How wonderful it is to finally meet you.”

Roni looks at Oliver, wondering if he feels the same intense vibes that she’s feeling as well.  She laughs awkwardly, unsure of what else to do. “I’ve--uh-- heard a lot about you, Mr. Styles!”

Mr. Styles grins, an old hidden dimple flashing amongst the wrinkles of his cheeks.  “All bad, I hope,” he says, and now Oliver laughs.

“Of course,” he says.  “I had to let her know what a menace you were!”

Mr. Styles laughs, sounding suddenly young and full of life again.  He moves slowly to the side.  “Come in, please.  Make yourselves comfortable!”

Roni and Oliver share a glance and a quick smile before they enter the room.  It isn’t much, but it’s cozy.  Roni is surprised when she’s met with a delicious vanilla smell emanating from a candle in the corner of the room. (Not that she’d been expecting the place to stink, of course, but she absolutely had expected it to smell like old people, which it did not.)

“Wow,” Oliver says, as if even he is surprised with the state of the room.  “Mr. Styles, you cleaned this place up nice!”

Mr. Styles grins.  “But of course,” he says.  “You have to when you have a pretty girl coming over!”  He looks at Roni.  “Does this boy not clean up for you when you’re spending time together?”

Roni giggles.  “He does.  Although I have to say, the vanilla candle is an excellent touch.  I don’t even think Oliver owns a candle!”

Mr. Styles shakes his head, a playful smile on his cheeks.  “What a shame.  Oliver, you best buy some candles for your lady!”

Oliver and Roni both laugh.  “Vanilla is my favorite,” Roni comments.

“Somehow I had a hunch,” Mr. Styles replies with a playful wink.

With every passing minute that turns into an hour, the three grow more and more comfortable together. It isn’t weird, or forced, and Roni marvels at how easy it is to talk to Mr. Styles.  He asks her questions about her life, oddly fascinated by every word that comes out of her mouth.  The way he watches her with his undivided attention makes her feel important.

He plays music from a little tape recorder that sits in the window of his room.  It takes him a moment to figure it out, and Oliver has to help him a bit, but he finally gets there.  Roni doesn’t recognize any of the music playing (nor does she realize the way Mr. Styles watches her reaction to a few specific songs very closely), but she enjoys the tunes nonetheless.

He shares memories associated with each song; what specific stories each song calls to his mind. And Roni listens, fascinated with every single one of them, realizing that she could genuinely listen to this old man speak about his youth for days.

A stack of books on the nightstand near his bed draws Roni’s attention at some point, and she rises to her feet to go examine them further. Mr. Styles notes her movements and smiles, almost  knowingly, to himself.   She thumbs at the one on the top of the pile, a small menu from some pizza place marking his spot towards the back of the book.  She cocks her head to the side to get a better view of the books title:

Alternate Realities: by Lawrence Leshawn

She blinks a few times, the concept of an alternate reality very new to her.  Without thinking, she picks the book up and scans the back of it.  She glances back at the pile, noting the various ones on time travel, meditation, and astral projection.  Time travel being the only topic of the other three books that she’d ever considered before, this discovery of books feels like a landmine of information.

“Bit nerdy, innit?”  Mr. Styles’ voice pulls Roni from her thoughts, and she turns to him, still holding the book in her hands.  His eyes twinkle.  “Is that what the kids are saying these days?  ‘Nerdy?’”

Roni giggles.  “It is.  But this isn’t nerdy.”

“Ohh,” Mr. Styles says, playfully brushing away her words with his hand.  “Come now.  Yes it is.”

“You’ll never get Roni to agree with that,” Oliver speaks up.  “Haven’t I told  you before?  She’s super into all that!”

Roni feels her cheeks go hot with embarrassment, but Mr. Styles’ only smiles at her.  “No kidding!”

“I mean…” Roni trails off shyly, worried she’s about to make a fool of herself. “Yeah.  Kinda.  It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Mr. Styles replies quickly, a hint of gravity to his words.  “Never say that.”

Roni debates telling Mr. Styles everything; about how she’s trying to find her mother, about how she’s already tried (and been unsuccessful) multiple times, and about how he is the first person (other than Oliver) who hasn’t actually thought she was silly for this at all.

But she’s only just met Mr. Styles, and she doesn’t want to bombard him with her own personal life story just yet-- nor is she certain he would really care.  So she only shrugs, a soft smile spreading across her cheeks.

“Yeah. I just… think it’s neat.  That’s all.”

There’s a look on Mr. Styles’ face that seems to say that he’s interested, but he doesn’t want to push her.  He waits patiently for her to continue, but when she doesn’t, he tries pressing just a tiny bit.  “Any particular reason?”

Even Oliver is watching her now, waiting for her answer even though he’s already known for a while. He offers her an encouraging smile, and Roni hesitates briefly before speaking   “I just want to go back and see my mom again.  She passed like five years ago and I just…”  She trails off, feeling silly despite the understanding looks on both Oliver and Mr. Styles’ faces.

“I understand.” Mr. Styles speaks up after a few moments of silence.  Roni doesn’t notice the all knowing smile on his face, or the way his eyes have grown damp.  She doesn’t catch the way he swallows down the lump in his throat.   Or how he looks at her the same way she looks out the window: pensive and lost in thought.

“Anyway,” Roni sighs, halfway through a laugh.  “I don’t know.  Oliver is the only one who believes me and even then, I’m not sure he really does.”

“I do!” Oliver laughs, shrugging almost defensively.  “I do.  I just don’t know if they’ve like… I dunno, developed some way to time travel yet.  I don’t know if technology has come that far, you know?  What  do you think, Mr. Styles?”

Both Roni and Mr. Styles seem to be deep in their own little worlds, but it’s lost on Oliver as he waits for a response from the older gentleman.  Mr. Styles smiles to himself, chuckling gently.  “I think it’s entirely possible,” he says, voice quiet.   “And I hope miss Roni never gives it up.”

Roni smiles, turning to face the old man.  “You really mean that?” she asks, stepping towards him.  “Like, you really think it’s possible?”

“I can promise you it is,” he says.  “I’m certain of it.”

Roni, realizing she’s still holding the Alternate Realities book, holds it up and gestures  at it with her free hand.  “What about this stuff?  I’ve never really heard of it.”

Mr. Styles grins, obviously glad she’s asked.  He shifts in his seat, speaking slowly.  “Have either of you ever heard of a parallel universe?”

Roni and Oliver both shake their heads, and Mr. Styles raises his eyebrows.  “No?  Well.  It’s a plane of existence, similar to the very one we’re living in right now now, that co-exists with our own.  It is said that there are multiple.”

“Multiple… existences?” Roni questions.

“That’s right,” Mr. Styles continues.  “Not much is known about them.  Especially considering that it isn’t even known if they exist or not.  But if they do, it is said that some are wildly different than your current existence now, while others are exactly the same with only a few minor differences.”

“Gnarly!” Oliver exclaims.  “So like, somewhere out there, I exist but I’m a billionaire?”

Mr. Styles chuckles.  “It’s possible.”

“Wait wait wait,” Roni says, significantly less convinced than her boyfriend.  “So you mean that somewhere out there in the world, there’s another Roni?  Who has no idea I exist?”

“We don’t know.”  Mr. Styles shrugs.  “Maybe.  Or maybe she knows all about you.”

Roni shakes her head, trying to wrap her mind around all this new information.  “That’s nuts.”

“Not really,” Oliver offers. “Kinda makes sense if you think about it.”

“So wait” Roni says, setting the book on the dresser and walking to stand by Mr. Styles.  “I told you why I’m into this.  Why are you into this?”

The old man goes quiet, smiling a tight lipped smile and hesitating as if really giving thought to his answer. “I like to think that in another reality, somewhere in time, I’m with my honey.”

Roni softens.  “Oh, I see.  Did she--”  She’s about to ask if Mr. Styles’ girl passed away as well, but she thinks better of it, unsure as to whether or not that’s an appropriate question.

Mr. Styles chuckles quietly, knowing exactly where Roni was going with her question. “I lost her,” he explains, because it isn’t technically a lie.  “Many, many years ago.”

“Oh.”  Roni frowns.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  At this point, it’s impossible for him to hide the way his voice cracks.  Roni looks at him, then averts her eyes, as if she feels guilty for hearing it.  Oliver sighs, stepping forward.

“Mr. Styles--”

“You remind me of her,” Mr. Styles says, ignoring Oliver.  The look on his face makes it seem like he’s got more on his mind.  

“Yeah?” Roni steps towards Mr. Styles, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He sighs, reaching up to place his hand on top of hers.  “Yeah,” he says. “More than you’d even believe.”

“Wish I could’ve met her.”

Mr. Styles grins up at her, swallowing thickly and patting her hand.  “Yeah.  She was my honey.”

He takes a deep breath, looking away from Roni and glancing out the window.  There’s a charged silence.  Oliver squirms uncomfortably, but Roni stays right where she is, waiting patiently for Mr. Styles to continue.

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Mr. Styles says.  He smiles up at Roni.  “Wherever she is.”

“Maybe she’s with my mom,” Roni offers.

Mr. Styles closes his mouth, blinks back a few of his tears, and nods his head.  “Perhaps she is.  Wouldn’t that be something.”

“I didn’t mean to like… make you sad or anything, Mr. Styles--”

“You didn’t, darling.” The old man shakes his head.  “Don’t be silly.”

Somehow, Roni doesn’t believe him.

The subject is swiftly changed and the rest of their visit goes by relatively smoothly.  Mr. Styles is back to his cheery self before Roni can even think twice about the interaction they’ve just shared, and soon the three are laughing and chatting away like best friends again.

All too quickly does their visit come to an end.  They say their goodbyes, although it’s obvious that Mr. Styles doesn’t want their time together to be over.  He looks almost emotional to be saying goodbye to Roni, something that neither of the two teenagers seem to understand.

After he gives her a warm embrace, careful not to hold her too long or, heaven forbid, make her feel uncomfortable, Mr. Styles pulls away, holding Roni at arm’s length.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

Confused, Roni cocks her head to the side.  “For?”

“You’ve made me feel young again.  I cannot even begin to express how badly I needed this.”

Roni smiles.  “Oh.  You’re welcome then!”  She giggles.  “It was so nice meeting you, Mr. Styles.”

“The pleasure was all mine, honey.”  His hands tremble as he lets go of her.  He turns to Oliver.  “You bring her back to visit sometime soon, alright?”

Oliver chuckles.  “I will.  But don’t go liking her more than you like me, now.  I’ve been here way longer.”

Mr. Styles laughs.  “Sure,”  he says,   “but she is prettier.”

Oliver slings his arm over Roni’s shoulder.    “Well I can’t argue with that, can I?”

When they finally do go their separate ways, Roni and Oliver playfully chase each other out to Oliver’s car-- blissfully unaware of the way that Mr. Styles watches them from his bedroom window with tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. They don’t know that Mr. Styles doesn’t leave his bedroom for the entire rest of the  day-- to the point that the caretakers at the home begin to worry about him.  

They don’t know that Mr. Styles has just reunited with his honey,  after nearly sixty-five years of looking for her, and that she has obviously no idea herself.

Oliver continues his weekly visits to Mr. Styles room for a few more weeks, noting that he is completely unlike himself, until mid April when Mr. Styles passes away.  

Oliver attends his funeral.  Roni, visiting a cousin out of town, does not.

Both Roni and Oliver eventually forget about the old man completely,  moving on with their lives and living together in blissful ignorance of  just how odd time can be.

It isn’t until ten years later, in April of 2000, that Roni  seems to recall the little old man, realizing with immense sadness how significant he really was.

With a heart shattering sob, she hopes that he’s with his honey, somewhere in time, just like he said.

------

December 31st, 1999, 11:54pm

It is ridiculously bright when Roni tries to open her eyes.  

She opens her eyes too quickly at first, immediately regretting it and squeezing them shut again.  The act of closing them once more, however, pushes a hot tear that’s been waiting for release from the corner of one eye  

And suddenly, it all comes flooding back to her.

Harry, 1925, Violet LaRue, the ocean, her mother…

She is so overwhelmed all at once with emotions that she grows sort of nauseous, and she sits up immediately to try and stop the spinning of the room around her.  

The room --her and Oliver’s shared bedroom-- looks completely untouched, as if she’d never left.  There is hip-hop music booming downstairs, lots of chattering, and a smell in the air that can only be described as drunk people.  The silence in the room, however, contrasts the chaos that’s occurring downstairs, and it makes her head pound.

Roni looks around slowly, noticing the skimpy, revealing party dress she’s wearing that clings to her every curve. It looks untouched as well, albeit a bit disheveled, and she reaches a cautious hand down to smooth it over her lap.

She hears Oliver’s booming laugh downstairs, and the sound feels like a stab to the heart. He must be completely wasted. The clock on the wall reads 11:54pm, and she knows she has to get back down to the party before the clock strikes midnight.

Never in her entire life has Roni felt anything like the feeling she’s currently experiencing.  

Surely she couldn’t have dreamt it all.  It was real-- Harry was real, and seeing her mother was real.  Besides, the fact that she’s even crying right now tells her that she had to have been experiencing something physical.  

Which reminds her…

Roni rises to her feet and makes her way over to the mirror hanging on the back of the door.  She pulls the neckline of her dress down, and feels her own breath catch in her throat when she finds what she’s looking for.

There, in the exact spot on her chest that she’d been anticipating it to be, is a bruise left by Harry.  The last remaining physical reminder of his existence.

With a shaky hand, she gently brushes her thumb over the purpling skin.  It stings, just a bit, but it’s real.  It’s there.  And it’s too much for Roni to handle.

Grateful for the cover of the commotion downstairs, Roni can’t help herself but to let out a pathetic sob as everything comes flooding over her.  How could she have been with Harry not even five minutes ago?  And her mother?  How was her mother just there and now suddenly she’s gone again?  

How can she be expected to go on in a world where neither of them exist, and she’s the only one with knowledge of what she’s just experienced?

She collapses to her knees, eyes closing and another choking sob echoing from her throat.  She reaches up to wipe her damp eyelashes, mindful of the fact that sooner or later she’s going to have to go downstairs and face everybody again— which she can’t do with a face full of runny makeup.

But right now she doesn’t care.  Right now, she’s overwhelmed, and upset, and deeply, deeply missing the love of her life.

It’s been ages since she’s cried this hard, and it feels somewhat therapeutic, although it doesn’t fix the terrible ache in her heart. Her throat hurts and her chest heaves. She reaches up to cover her own mouth to quiet her wails as her heart feels like it’s physically breaking.  

She misses him.  She misses him so much.

On top of that, having her mother so close to her after so long without her--only to have to leave her once more-- is more painful than she had ever anticipated it would be.  

Roni remains like this for another minute or so, until she’s drawn by her thoughts when she hears her own name faintly downstairs.  Someone asks where she is, and Oliver slurs out that she’s been gone for a while.  When someone suggests that he go find her and he jubilantly agrees, Roni panics.

“Shit.”  She reaches up and wipes at her snotty nose; stumbling awkwardly to her feet and making her way to the mirror once again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  

Roni scrambles to fix her hair and wipe away the splotchy mascara stains under her eye.  She prays that Oliver is too drunk to even notice that she’s crying, and she swallows down the intense heartache still in her throat.  When she’s at least somewhat satisfied with her appearance, she hears footsteps coming down the hallway— her cue to leave.  With a deep breath, she opens the bedroom door just in time to eee Oliver approaching.

Oliver, with his sweet, drunken smile, immediately opens his arms. “Ronnaaaaaay!” He says, by way of greeting her.  “There you are!” He doesn’t wait for her to respond, instead he just wraps her up in his arms and gives her a big, suffocating squeeze.  He pulls away to press an obnoxious kiss to her forehead, and it breaks Roni’s heart even more.  

On any other occasion, she would find this unbearably adorable. But now, the scent of the alcohol mixed with his cologne is making her even more nauseous than she already was.

After a few more wet pecks to her forehead, he squishes her cheeks in his hand and kisses his way down her face, pausing only once he reaches her mouth and realizes it’s wet and salty.  He pulls away, not removing his hands from her cheeks, and furrows his eyebrows as he scans her face. “You been crying?”

Roni knows that if she opens her mouth, she’ll lose control again. So she only smiles, turning away and giggling softly as she nods.

Oliver doesn’t seem to find this as humorous as Roni does, and he tilts his head so that he’s once again in her line of vision. “Heyyy, hey,” he coos. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She sniffs, trying her hardest to keep her light smile on her face. “It’s nothing,” she says, throat raspy and voice hardly above a whisper. “I promise.”

“It’s not nothing,” he says, wiping at Roni’s damp face and gently guiding her back into their bedroom.  He’s thoughtful like that-- he doesn’t want Roni to feel it necessary to squash her emotions should anyone walk by.  He knows she wouldn’t want anyone else to see her crying like this. He doesn’t close the door fully, leaving only a crack, before turning to Roni.

She doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s being so ridiculously sweet to her is making her want to cry harder. This isn’t fair; not fair to her and definitely not to him.  She crosses her arms over her torso, feeling ridiculously vulnerable under his gaze.

He gives her a sympathetic smile, and there’s a look in his eyes that comes across almost as if he knows what’s going on.  She lets out a little half laugh/half sob, and she feels closer to him than she expected to in this moment. She speaks.

“Are you gonna say something?”

Oliver cuts her off, speaking only a half second after her. “You tried that time travel junk again, didn’t you?”

His words feel like a slap to the face, but they aren’t exactly wrong.  She stays frozen, mouth agape, and then wilts.  

“Yeah,” she whispers, because what else is there for her to say?

“Ohhh, babe.” Oliver steps towards her, wrapping her in his arms. I told you it wasn’t gonna work.”

Roni knows she should have expected that kind of response from him, but still.  Ouch.  

For a split second, she almost loses it.  She almost tells him everything; about how it did work, about how she’s actually been gone for a little over a week now-- not just a few minutes--, and about how hard it was to find her way back. She wants to mention seeing her mom, and she wants to rub it in his face. “You were wrong! You were wrong about it all! I saw my mom! She hugged me!”

It’s when she considers telling him about Harry, however, that some sense is knocked back into her.

Just the mere, brief thought of Harry makes her want to break down again, and subconsciously the mark on her chest that Harry had left begins to sting.  She chews the inside of her cheek so hard it hurts.

“I’m sorry, honey.”  Oliver’s use of the pet name that Roni had grown so used to hearing from Harry’s mouth makes her nauseated.  She tries to break free from Oliver’s grasp, but he holds her tighter.  “I know how much you wanted it to work.”

“Stop,” she whispers.

He doesn’t hear her.

“I know you’ve tried for years, but haven’t you been through enough heartbreak?”  Oliver sighs.  “I really think it’s time you give it up, Ron.  I don’t know why you won’t just listen to me about this stuff.”

“Stop it.”  Roni finally does break out of Oliver’s embrace, and in his drunken state he blinks dumbly back at her.

“Did I say something?”

“Fuck’s sake,” she says, wiping the tears on her cheeks.  “You’re right, okay?  I’m an idiot.  I’m done trying.  I quit.  Is that what you want to hear? Can we fucking stop?”

Oliver frowns, hesitantly taking a step towards Roni.  “Babe, I didn’t mean--”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Roni says, harsher than intended.  “Okay?  Drop it.  Please.  I’m begging.  I just want to go to bed.”

“But it’s almost midnight.”  Oliver is pouting now, and although it should make Roni soften a bit, it only makes her angry.

Oliver takes a more definitive step in Roni’s direction.  “I don’t want to start the new year fighting with you, babe.  Can we just go back down to our party?  We can talk about this tomorrow.” He shrugs.  “Or not! We don’t have to ever talk about it again if you don’t want to.  I just want to bring in the new year kissing you, surrounded by our friends.  So can we just… please?”

Roni scans his face, feeling more and more on the verge of breakdown with every passing second.  She closes her eyes, wishing she were anywhere but here, and covers her face with her hands.  “God,” she groans, before taking a big breath and opening her eyes again.  “Fine.  Sure.  Let’s go.”

Oliver smiles softly, holding out his hand timidly for her to take.  “Sure you’re not mad?”

It isn’t Oliver’s fault.  Of course it isn’t.  So how can Roni be angry with him?

She sighs, trying to bitterly laugh off a tear that’s threatening to roll down her cheek and ignoring his hand.  “Yeah,” she says quietly.  “I’m sure.”

“Not sure I believe you,” Oliver chuckles, “But okay.”  He steps in, closing the gap between him and Roni and puckering his lips.  He speaks in a babyish voice that, in any other circumstances, would absolutely melt Roni.  “Gimme kiss?”

It makes Roni even more upset than she already is, but who is she to deny Oliver? He is none the wiser as to what’s going on, and she can’t exactly drop this bomb on him right now. Not when he’s drunk.  Not when there’s a party going on downstairs.

Not when they’ve been together for so many years with absolutely no problems before this.

Before Roni even has time to process what’s happening, Oliver is taking her wrist in his hand and pulling her impossibly closer to him.  He kisses her, softly at first, and then a bit more passionate once their lips are fastened together.  

It’s Oliver who is making all the effort then; tongue maneuvering it’s way into Roni’s mouth as seductively as he can manage.  Roni would have no objections to this in any other situation.  In fact, she would welcome this.  The normal Roni would suggest she and Oliver skip out on the midnight countdown altogether, in fact, and elect to stay up here bringing in the new year whilst fucking like rabbits.

But not now.  Of course not now.  In fact, probably not ever again.  How could she ever go back to Oliver now?  After Harry?  After everything she’d felt for Harry?

How could she have done this to Oliver?

She gently pushes Oliver off of her, hoping he doesn’t note the tears in her eyes.  “Please,” she says quietly.  “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”  Oliver giggles,  “Kiss your boyfriend?  You scared our friends will catch on?  Start thinking we might have crushes on each other?  Assume you think I’m hot?”

Roni knows Oliver is playing around, but she genuinely is not in the mood for that right now, and she’s afraid that if he says much else she’ll snap.  She groans, leaning in and pressing the most bland, unemotional kiss to his lips.  “Lets go,” she says.  “Please.  We’re going to miss the countdown.”

She begins making her way out of the room with Oliver close behind her.  “I expect a much better kiss than that when the ball drops!” Oliver says. “Much, much better!”

Roni’s heart is pounding in her ears so loudly she can hardly hear herself think. Her face grows hot while the inside of her body feels cold.  She’s having a panic attack, no doubt about it, and for once she’s glad that everyone is going to be too drunk to acknowledge it.

“Ron?”  Oliver asks as he and Roni begin descending the stairs. “Hey, Ron? Baby… will you stop a minute?”

“I don’t want to miss the ball drop,” Roni says, refusing to turn around and trying her hardest to sound like her breathing is under control.

Oliver stops her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart,” he says tenderly. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Roni insists, more urgently than intended.  She sighs (the shakiness of her breath incredibly obvious to both of them) and softens as best she can.  

“I’m not being weird,” she repeats. “Just tired.”

“You know if something is going on you can tell me, right?” Oliver sounds more sober than he has in hours, and the way he looks at Roni makes her insides shake with guilt.

She opens her mouth to speak, but has to forcibly stop herself when she almost says Harry’s name. She scans his face, so genuinely concerned and yet ridiculously kind, and she swallows down the vomit rising in her throat.  “Yeah,” she says “I know.”

Oliver smiles.  “Okay then.”  He gives her shoulder a squeeze and follows  her lead back into the living room.

Roni feels like she’s in a dream as she moves;  like her body is here physically but her mind is elsewhere.  In the strangest way possible, her brain feels small and disconnected entirely.   She can see everyone cheering when she and Oliver walk in.  She can feel her friend put a red solo cup filled with alcohol into her hand.  She can hear her name being called, but she doesn’t register it.  She doesn’t register anything that’s going on at the moment, actually.

Her attention is briefly caught when she hears people start counting down, signaling that the ball is about to drop.  Their exuberant voices sound far away, however, as if she’s hearing them from the next room over.  Her face feels cold and her hands feel sweaty, and she thinks maybe if everyone would scoot over a bit she’d be able to breathe better.

“18….17…. 16….”

Someone accidentally bumps into Roni, knocking into the cup in her hand and sloshing a bit of its contents onto her dress.  No one reacts; in fact, no one else even notices. Oliver gives her hand a quick squeeze, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arm around her waist.

“...12… 11….”

Roni’s ears burn.  She knows where she is, but she cannot, for the life of her, focus on a single thing.  Her heart is hurting.  This doesn’t feel right.  She shouldn’t be here.

Slowly, the room around her begins spinning.  Roni wobbles a bit on her feet and Oliver catches her, probably chalking her wooziness up to her being as drunk as he is. She almost wishes she was, because maybe that would make everything hurt less.

“...8… 7…6”

Roni’s throat feels like it’s closing in on itself, and her mind seems to be running far behind her actual body.  She tries to blink herself into some clarity, glancing around the room.  She’s looking--hoping-- for someone who she knows damn well isn’t there.  Someone who couldn’t even try to be there.  The only person she cares to see at this point.

“...3...2...1…”

The entire room erupts in cheers, which definitely doesn’t help the throbbing in Roni’s brain, and the song Auld Lang Syne blasts from the tv.  There is nothing but chaos surrounding Roni, and she almost gags at the feeling of the lump in her throat.   She opens her mouth to say something, but is promptly cut off when Oliver pulls her in by her hips, fastening his lips to hers in a kiss that feels a far too enthusiastic for Roni’s taste.

The way he’s holding her by her hips would be enough to make her swoon on any other occasion. But now it makes her feel suffocated, and she doesn’t even close her eyes as she gives Oliver a half-assed kiss back.

No one else in the room seems to be aware of what’s going on.  They’re all too drunk, too busy making out with their respective partners/fuck buddies/love interests for the evening, to seem to care or even notice at all that Roni’s eyes are wide open.  The guilt, the pain, the longing for Harry-- all of it wraps itself around Roni’s heart and squeezes like a python.

Oliver pulls away, a dopey smile on his face.  “Happy New Year, baby!”

He looks so thrilled; so beyond naive to not only the fact that she’s hurt him in what she’s certain will be an unforgivable way, but also the fact that she is more concerned with missing Harry than feeling much else at all right now.

“Roni?”

A voice from off to the side catches her attention, and she turns in slow motion to see her and Oliver’s mutual friend, Zach, squinting at her.  “Ron, you don’t look so good.”

“Wait, yeah,” comes Zach’s girlfriend, Skye.  “Girl, are you okay?”

Roni hears their questions.  She hears them, but she doesn’t process them.  Zach and Skye aren’t the only people who seem to be concerned, as more and more people around them quickly catch on.

“Sweetheart?” comes Oliver’s voice, and Roni turns, almost drunkenly.

“Is she drunk?”

“Did she take something?”

“She looks green!”

“Baby?” It’s Oliver’s voice that breaks through the deafening noise the most, although Roni still can’t even really process what he’s saying. “Roni?  Hun, can you hear me?”

“Everyone step back!”

“Let her breathe!”

“Can someone get her some water?”

“Ron?”

Her breathing is so shallow now that she can actually hear herself gasping for air.  She feels like she’s choking.  She hates this.  She hates these people.  She doesn’t want to be here.

Where she wants to be is with Harry.  Alone with him, in his tiny apartment that isn’t even half the size of the room.  The year 2000 nothing but a vague memory, something she knows is so far in the future that  she’ll never have to worry about it.  She should have stayed.

Goddammit, she should have stayed.

As she looks around the room at these people who she should love-- who she should be thrilled to be surrounded by-- she realizes that she’s never felt more alone.  Not a single one of them would understand what’s going on. How is she supposed to continue on into the new year-- the new millennium-- feeling so isolated in her own feelings?

“I can’t breathe.”

She can feel herself saying the words, yet her own voice sounds so fuzzy and far away.

“She can’t breathe!” someone repeats.  “Everyone back up!”

“Can we get her some water?”

“Ron?”

It’s too much.  It’s all too fucking much.

Roni’s knees wobble a bit before she feels them buckle.  The last thing she sees before hitting the ground is Oliver worriedly scrambling to catch her.  

And then everything is dark.

[popcrone818]

Spitfire-chapter 3

Sorry that I've been gone for so long, here is the next chapter in my Sweet Pea story.

Hope you enjoy please leave feedback.

Aurora’s POV

I stormed out of Sweet Pea’s trailer, tears coming to my eyes as the scene played on repeat in my mind. He only saw me as a friend nothing more, no matter how close we had been. I heard a bang coming from his trailer and I knew that he knew I wasn’t coming back. I sat in my car just outside Sunnyside Trailer park as I watched Toni and Fangs ride in on their bikes. I knew they were going to Sweet Pea’s as today was our normal day of watching movies until we got bored and ordered food. It’ll be a shock to them that I’m not there cuddled up to him already. I threw my car into drive and took off back to my house, hoping that Archie was with Veronica and that dad was at work. I didn’t want to deal with anyone else today I just wanted to lay in the bath and listen to music. There were no cars in the drive way when I got home so I headed straight upstairs to my bathroom and started running a bath with bubbles for myself. I had cried the whole way home and my eyes were puffy and my makeup smudged. I lit a few candles around the bathroom before I heard the doorbell ring just as I was about to get undressed. I groaned and headed back downstairs my socked feet making little noise on the hardwood floors.

“This better be fucking good I’m not in the mood.” I swung the door open to be face to face with Toni. She grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into her body. I felt sobs wrack my body as she moved us inside.

“It’s okay, come one I know that you want a bath, I’ll help you.” She led me upstairs and back into the bathroom that smelt like the teakwood candles I had lit before Toni arrived. She helped me undressed which isn’t weird even though she’s gay, this isn’t the first time Sweet Pea has been a dick and I’ve needed a bath. She switched on her playlist specifically designed for moments like these and she came to sit on the edge of the bath with some make up wipes. After helping me take off my smudged makeup she sat down on the cold tile of the bathroom and turned to me. “Tell me what happened. He told us what happened but what happened with your side.” I sunk down lower in the bath before I answered her.

“Basically he thinks that I need protecting, that I’m so fucking breakable that he needs to protect me from everyone.” I took a deep breath and looked at her.

“Oh honey, no he doesn’t, he knows how strong you are. You have never not once backed down from putting him in his place, when most people would from one single glance from him. That first day we met you I remember talking to him once you left, he said that no one has ever stood up to him like that. We teased him saying that he liked you but he brushed us off. When you did your dance he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But I know for a fact he wasn’t thinking sexually, there was nothing going on in his pants when Fangs looked at him. That may sound bad but what I’m really trying to tell you is that; he may be a dick, and he may have anger issues that he really needs to resolve but he does like you, as more than a friend, he’s just afraid of you leaving, he only has us. Well us and the serpents, but even then he really only has the three of us and he’s terrified of any of us leaving him.” I blinked back tears as her words sunk in. I had just walked out of one of my best friends lives just because he called me a friend and because I thought he thought of me as breakable.

“Should I go back over there?” I asked her.

“God no, make him grovel, you’re a badass bitch who don’t need no man. Make him want you that much more, make him squirm. Honestly he probably deserves it. Tonight you and I are having a girls night.” She giggled causing me to giggle. “Now where do you hide your face masks?” I pointed out the bottom drawer in the vanity. She nodded and got out all the different masks that I have before she took off out the door. I shook my head at her before she came back in dressed in a pair of my pjs and carrying another pair along with underwear for me. She was wearing a light green pair that consisted of booty shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. For me she had grabbed my black booty shorts with my huge tshirt that I had stolen from Sweet Pea. I glared at her before I got out wrapping a towel around my body and drying off.

“I thought we were trying to make me feel better not make me miss him.” I held up the shirt to the front of my body.

“Shit I forgot that was his.” I waved her off and pulled it over my head. I may be pissed at him but he still smelt amazing. Even the candles I had put on reminded me of his scent. We spent the rest of the night talking shit about Sweet Pea and Fangs and also laughing our asses off at memories either with or without the boys as we did masks and watched stupid girly movies which made the both of us cry.

Sweet Pea’s POV

Summer had came quickly. Rory was avoiding me at any cost, serpent meetings she would stay by the bar with Toni, or she would be working the bar. She never came to the wyrm to just hang out anymore and when I saw her in school she kept her headphones in and her head down. I had been spending a lot of time with Josie McCoy and she was fun sure but she was no Rory, I thought she could help me get over her but she couldn’t. She and I were just using each other and called it a summer fling but a couple weeks in I couldn’t do it anymore. I had watched Rory laughing at Fangs and Toni in the wyrm and I just felt like absolute shit, so I stormed out of the wyrm jumped in my bike and made my way to Josie’s.

“Didn’t know we had a hook up scheduled.” She chuckled as she opened her door.

“I’m not here for a hook up.” I told her looking down at my feet. “I cant keep doing this Josie, I’m sorry.” I went to turn back around and leave when she grabbed my shoulder turning me around. Her lips were on mine and before I could even think we were up in her room hooking up yet again. I looked at her and suddenly I couldn’t see Josie anymore I saw Rory which made me kiss down her neck and bite harshly. I felt her moan which only spurred me on more.

It wasn’t until I was laying down staring up at the ceiling that I finally saw Josie not Rory. I frowned and looked at Josie before I got up to collect my clothes.

“This is it, no more I cant keep doing this to myself.” I told her as I buckled my belt back up.

“You love her don’t you?” She asked as she wrapped a sheet around her body.

“Who?” I asked her playing dumb, in the last 6 months all I have been able to think about is Rory, I have finally come to the realisation that the things we used to do we did because I liked her.

“Aurora Andrews.” I looked down at the floor as I shrugged on my jacket.

“Yeah I do. I have since I met her.”

“Then go get her dumbass. You’re the reason she has changed and you and I were only doing this so that we could forget other people. And I know I’m not the only one it hasn’t worked for. I don’t know how many times you’ve called me Rory.” I turned away from her and started to head out the door. “I hope it works out for you Sweet Pea, you’re a really great guy and I’m sorry for using you these past couple of weeks.”

“I’m sorry too, I hope everything works out for you.” With that I walked out of her room and out of her house.

I made my way to Wyrm knowing tonight was a night she was doing a shift with Toni, I had to talk to her, I needed to talk to her even if I can only get her back as a friend I don’t care. I quickly spotted Toni as I walked in, but she quickly ducked into the room behind the bar.

Aurora POV

Toni joined me in the back room as I tied my hair up getting ready for my shift.

“He’s here, you either start the plan now or you keep waiting hoping life will go on. But I know the both of you are miserable without the other.” She went to turn around and walk out before I spoke up.

“He has Josie now.” She spun back around to me as my voice was so quiet. “He doesn’t want me anymore and the plan is now null and void. Can I just have the night off?” She shook her head and grabbed both of my shoulders before pushing me out the door. I stumbled a little bit before I crashed into a strong chest. Their arms wound around my waist and I was hit wth a familiar scent, one I hadn’t smelt in months, other than the occasional candle that had a similar scent. Minus the leather and cigarette smell. I looked up craning my neck slightly as I was in heels so I wasn’t as short as I normally would be, and I found myself lost in his deep dark pools of whiskey. He cleared his throat and I pushed myself away from his strong arms and chest standing on my own. I crossed my arms over my chest and just stared at him as I waited for him to say something.

“Rory.” He breathed out reaching his hand out to me. I took another step back away from him and saw his face fall. “I’m sorry about that night, I’m a fucking idiot, I didn’t realise only calling you a friend and making you think that I thought you were fragile would do this. I like protecting you, even though I know you can protect yourself, I like knowing that I’m needed. These past couple of months I have missed your touch, have missed our banter, I’ve missed the way you push me to be someone better than just a drug running Serpent. Aurora Andrew’s I miss you so much and I never thought I would ever say that about a Northsider but you are different.” He took a deep breath and our eyes locked. I felt my resolve crumple around me and I reached my arms up and tangled my hands in his hair bringing his body closer to mine. Feelings aside, because he never mentioned them and I knew he was with Josie now, I knew I missed my best friend.

“Ive missed you too Sweets, I’ve missed sitting on you, I’ve missed our movie nights and cuddles. I’ve missed everything about you even the way you smell, which sounds weird now that I say that out loud. I had this whole plan to make you regret being a dick but standing here in your arms I know that I never want to go that long without your arms wrapped around me again.” I buried my head in his chest and I felt him chuckle as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“What did this plan entail?” He asked me pulling away from me slightly.

“Basically it was just making you regret the way that you spoke to me, showing you I wasn’t fragile and kicking some Ghoulie ass, but thinking about that now I can see how stupid it was.” I laughed and brought him in for another hug. His head rested in the crook of my neck and I felt his breath fan over the exposed skin.

“Rory, shift is starting!” I heard Toni yell from behind the bar. I pulled away from Sweet Pea and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I strutted away swinging my hips more than normal as I felt his eyes on me. He is such a boy. I joined Toni behind the bar and watched as Sweet Pea walked over to Fangs to start a game of pool. “So… that looked promising?” She questioned me as we started to serve some of the patrons of the bar.

“He apologised and told me all of these cute things that he missed about me, I was fucking putty in his hands and he knew that. I wanted to make him work for it but as soon as I felt his touch I was fucking gone. Toni I think I love that man over there.” She squealed and pulled me into her.

“I’m so gad you finally see it. Ive been saying that for months and you’ve just brushed me off every time. I actually remember you threatening me over it once too.” We giggled at each other and my eyes found Sweet Pea, he was already looking at me and we made eye contact before I blushed and turned away from him back to the job at hand of getting the older serpents drunk.

“Hey pretty lady, what are you doing after you finish up here?” I heard a deep baritone voice coming from behind me and instantly tensed up. I turned around slowly and threw the rag I had in my hands at Sweet Pea.

“I was seriously about to cuss you out and tell you I had a boyfriend, they always leave me alone when I do that.” He threw the rag back at me and I got back to the tedious job of cleaning all the glasses.

“You get that often then I assume?” He asked me as he sat at the bar. I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed a beer out for him.

“Every so often, once they saw I wasn’t around you as often they started to get worse. I guess your just a really scary badass Serpent that even the older serpents are afraid of.”

“Yeah I kicked one of their asses a few months back and no one has looked me in the eye since.” He took a swig of his beer before my attention had to be taken away by another Serpent.

“Hey hot stuff!” I rolled my eyes but went over to him anyway. “Once your done with mister 30 seconds I’ll take a beer and your number thanks.” He winked at me and I watched from the corner of my eyes as Sweet Pea clenched and unclenched his fists. I bent over slightly more than I needed to in Sweet Pea’s line of sight as I got the beer out.

“You can have the beer, because that’s my job, but my number and my attention are saved for him, so I would appreciate any rude remarks to be kept to a minimum or non existent.” I sent him a wink and shoved the beer into his hand before turning back to Sweet Pea.

“Um, when did that happen?” He asked gesturing to my body.

“Um, when my big cuddly teddy bear decided to be a dick. I told you I could take care of myself, now you’ve seen me in action.” I rolled my eyes at him as he looked back over to the perv from before. “Plus he probably heard you hit on me and I didn’t say anything so he thought it was alright tonight.” I shrugged and started to wipe down the bar.

“I always knew you could handle yourself Rory, I’m just very protective, and I guess you could say territorial as well.” He looked down at the bar not meeting my eyes.

“Oh I know you are Sweets, why do you think I let you give me all those hickies anyway?” He gave me a questioning look finally meeting my eye as I leant against the bar on the other side.

“Wait, what? You knew I was doing that to keep pervs like that fuckwit away from you?” He asked me, I nodded and leant over closer to him on the bar. My boobs getting squished between the bar top and my body.

“Of curse I did, I also knew you beat up the first Serpent that tried to hit on me too. I’m not stupid Sweets.”

“Never said you were. What time do you get off anyway?” He asked me as I leaned back to look at the clock.

“Uh, in 15 why?”

“Movies at mine? No Fangs, no Toni just the two of us?”

“Absolutely!” I looked around for Toni hoping I could get off early. I found her over by the pool tables with Fangs. “You go talk to her, I’ll make sure everything is right for her to take over.” He nodded and got up making his way over to Toni and Fangs, I saw her nod her head as I wiped the bar clean.

“So you having movie night without us tonight?” She asked as she retied her apron on her hips. I nodded and blushed. “Get out of here, and if I don’t get an update tonight I’ll assume things went great and we should start planning your wedding tomorrow.” She winked at me causing me to blush even darker. She pulled me into a tight hug before placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Ready?” Sweet Pea asked from behind Toni. I nodded and pulled off my apron before going into the back to get my things. Sweet Pea placed a hand in the small of my back as we made our way out of the Wyrm.

“USE PROTECTION!” I heard Fangs yell from inside and I blushed and looked at Sweet Pea.

“Toni also thinks something is going to happen tonight.”

“It can if you want.” He whispered in my ear before handing me his helmet. I shook my head and gestured to my own bike. His eyes nearly fell out of his head at my baby. I grinned before placing a kiss on his cheek and skipping off to my bike, turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life. I looked back to Sweet Pea who hadn’t moved yet, his jaw going slack before I winked at him and sped off to his trailer.

Being back in his trailer again after so many weeks of not being here was weird, he handed me a glass of water before we sat down on his couch and faced each other.

“How have you been?” He sat down his glass and licked his lips. I found myself watching his every move.

“Not too bad, been busy working and you know things with school.” He ran his fingers through his hair and I felt my fingers twitch.

“Okay, look we used to be close, I want to get back to that and this small talk bullshit is not helping our situation. In the last couple of months we have both been avoiding each other, after you stormed out of my trailer Toni told me why she thought I lost you. Look, I called you a friend because I thought that’s what we were, just best friends.”

“Look I understand that we were friends and I know that you calling me a friend shouldn’t have effected me the way that it did. But it happened and I acted on impulse,”

“The way that you left effected me in a way that it shouldn’t have as well. We were both acting on emotions, I love you Aurora, that is why I protect you, that is why I acted the way I did with Mantle that day, and why I got so emotional when you told me you could handle yourself. I know you can but I like feeling like I’m needed, needed by someone so important in my life. It gives me a feeling of accomplishment. I miss the feeling of your fingers on my skin, I miss when you would push me in the chest when I was being a dick, I miss you sitting in my lap and wrapping my arms around you, I miss cuddling in the couch and watching movies until all hours of the night.” He reached forward and took my hand in his anger one, he looked down at our interlocked hands and started to fidget with one of my many rings. “These past couple of months have been hell for me, as Im sure it has been for you. Toni hardly spoke to me she would talk to me through Fangs, and I knew she was with you when she wasn’t with us. It killed me not having you right beside me.” I squeezed his hand and looked into his deep whiskey eyes. I’m could see a slight sheen to his eyes and squeezed his hand again.

“Sweet’s, these months have been just as hard for me too, that’s why Toni stayed with me. I reacted the way I did because I thought we had something, because I thought you could see I could handle myself and when you would jump in it made me feel like you didn’t have that faith in me. I thought you cared enough to let me be myself. It hurt Sweet Pea,”

“Noah,” I cocked my head to the side and looked at him strangely. “My name, its Noah.” He looked down at his lap and I felt my face contort into a smile. “No one knows, so please keep it to yourself.” He avoided looking up at me. I reached forward with my free hand and grasped his jaw tilting his head to look at me. I held his gaze.

“Noah, I will never let anyone know. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He let go of my hand and I felt his calloused hands rest on either side of my face.

“I want to do something.” I nodded my head holding eye contact with him. He leaned in pulling my face closer to his, I closed my eyes as his lips gently brushed mine before he pulled my face even closer and deepened the kiss. He pulled away from me slowly I kept my eyes closed but caressed his hands gently as they laid on my jaw. “Aurora Andrews, I have loved you since you stood up to me, I felt soft and weak under your gaze,” I felt his thumb softly rub his thumb against the apple of my cheek. “I honestly hated the feeling but I found myself drawn to you, to feel your touch and to feel your gaze on my skin once again. I craved the feeling of your skin on mine, I became protective of you, I hated it when you joined and did the dance, I never wanted this life for you, I don’t even want this life for me, but if you feel the same I will work tirelessly to give you the life that you deserve.” I felt a tear roll down my cheek and Sweet Pea was quick to wipe it away. I opened my eyes and felt myself get lost in his honey coloured eyes.

“Of course I feel the same, I’m strong but I feel weak around you, I feel butterflies whenever you touch me, which is a lot by the way. I want a life with you Noah, we can get out of this together and have what we want.” I took his hands off my face and held them in my own. “I love you Noah.”

“I love you Aurora.” I pulled his face closer to mine and planted my lips on his, he pulled back slowly and rested his forehead on mine. “Be mine?” I nodded keeping my eyes closed when he pulled me impossibly closer almost sitting on his lap before kissing me passionately with his arms wrapped around my waist.

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out At Night

Chapter 2: Say My Name. A/N: Rough draft I’ll be posting to AO3 later after I go through the edits. Enjoy now, I’ll be polishing it later. I personally would let Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters step on me but that’s just me

Warnings: Character death, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, horror. Elements of non-con. 

              Time had no meaning for Desdemona anymore as her entire being floated comfortably into a quiet void. She was only accompanied by the sweet sound of silence that filled her ears and that in itself was comforting. She was in such a deep state of sleep that it felt like she would be trapped in the peaceful state of purgatory for eternity, but alas that would no longer be the case. Desdemona thought she was dead; in fact, she wanted nothing more than for that to be the case. Unluckily for her, she was about to wake to unfortunate events that would lead her to believe she was trapped in Hell. At first, she sees nothing in her field of vision but then she hears the shrill sound of familiar laughter that sends a shiver down her spine. The black abyss she grew accustomed to deteriorated all around her, a blinding flash of white light surrounds her for the briefest of moments before Desdemona’s eyes finally opened to reveal the disturbing scene before her. “Mother, my pet is finally awake! Oh, I was growing ever so impatient, my darling little one. I was so desperate to peer into those gorgeous eyes of yours again, I was tempted to pluck them out of your skull as you slept.” A voice whispered dangerously into her ears behind her, wet lips gently wrapping around her right ear before it was released with a pop. “Cassandra, you foul thing, learn your place! How many times do I have to say that it was I who found our prize? Do not touch what does NOT belong to you!” Screeched the woman with the green pendant as she materialized by her side in an instant. It didn’t take long for the fact to register that this was the first time that Desdemona could finally get a better look at the women who attacked the group in the village. Now that their hoods were down, she could better identify them by not only their hair color but by the manner of which they spoke and the pendants they wore. The way they continued to fight over her made her stomach turn as she struggled to comprehend why they wanted her alive and what they were going to do with her.

Another black mass of insects appeared and disintegrated into nothing just as quickly as the third woman decided to chime in, her yellow pendant gleaming brightly against the dimly lit room. Her dirtied, dark brown hair tickled Desdemona’s face as she leaned dangerously over her, the smirk on her face growing wider when Desdemona’s breath grew heavy again. She raised her hand and playfully walked two fingers up Desdemona’s arm and over her collarbone before she roughly grasped her prey’s chin and forced her to look directly into her eyes. “Hello, pretty little plaything, you’ll find that my sisters lack manners when they’re lusting over irresistible blood. You should feel honored you made quite the impression as you did. The others you brought with you are undeserving of your company and you’ll find that they deserve punishment simply by existing. Mother will see to that soon enough.” The brunette told her quietly as she straightened back up.

‘Wait, what did she mean by punishing the others for simply existing? Where were Desmond and Veronica?’ Desdemona worriedly thought to herself. The younger Hawthorne sibling attempted to move but she didn’t realize her wrists were restrained by old fashioned shackles until it was too late. She suddenly felt herself being lifted to her feet by the two crazed sisters standing on either side of her. Each woman occasionally nuzzled into her neck and sniffed at her, nipping at her and licking exposed skin whenever the impulse struck.

Desdemona glanced around her environment and realized that they must be inside the castle if the polished flooring, centuries old artwork and beautiful grand staircase were of any indication. Where else would they be after getting lost out on the trail?

The frightened young woman made the mistake of looking over to her left and found that the red-haired woman known as Daniela was staring at her with a glazed look in her eyes. The sight of her lips parting and blowing her a small kiss made Desdemona’s heart nearly jump out of her throat. She couldn’t avert her gaze out of fear and Daniela took that as an invitation to flirt the only way she knew how. She brought two fingers to her face, spaced them out to a “V” shape and made an obscene gesture with her unusually long tongue, moaning loudly when Desdemona blushed and looked away. “Don’t be shy, my love. Once we take care of Mother’s unwanted pests, we can finally be alone together and I’ll taste you once and for all. You’ll find that I do want to eat you but only in the best way possible. You wouldn’t deny me the pleasure, would you?” Daniela growls out, her eyes fluttering shut as the sound of Desdemona’s blood rushing through her veins and her rapidly beating heart thudding against her chest awakened a whole new need in Daniela. Desdemona wanted to cry out but refrained from doing so when she realized somebody else was coming.

Heels could be heard clicking from afar, a door slamming open and voices shouting in protest behind what seemed to be an impossibly tall, statuesque women. Desdemona’s jaw dropped for two reasons: The woman who entered the room dramatically exuded such class and confidence that it didn’t look awkward in the manner in which she had to bend so far low to pass through the doorway. When she uncurled herself from the uncomfortable position, her golden eyes met gray uncertain ones and they immediately pierced through Desdemona’s soul. The woman brought out a whole new level of terror within her. The second reason Desdemona’s mouth remained agape was due to the fact that the mysterious woman dragged along the wounded bodies of both Desmond and Veronica.

‘They’re still alive!’ Desdemona thought, hope rising in her chest the moment she saw both her best friend and twin reacting to her presence. “Des, you’re okay! Christ, the way these fucking things were talking about you, I thought the worst happened.” Desmond called out to her, desperation in his voice as he attempted to crawl his way towards his sister. Veronica tried to break free from the intimidating woman’s grasp but the woman merely raised a perfectly manicured brow in response and tugged on the chains wrapped around both Desmond and Veronica. They had collars clasped tightly around their necks and they choked as a result of the chains being pulled back.

When Veronica glanced back at Desdemona, the furious expression on her face softened when she noticed the bedraggled state her friend was in. Desmond noticed it too and it only served to fuel his anger. “What the fuck did they do to you? I’ll kill them, I’ll slit their fucking throats and make them pay if they so much as tried to ra-,” Veronica began but was immediately cut off with a harsh slap to the face. “Goddamn, bitch!” “Silence, vermin! Speak when you’re spoken to or you’ll learn your place soon enough should you continue to use foul language in my house. Now, pray tell my daughters, what is it that has you all so eager about entertaining this particular foreigner?” The elegant woman asks as she gives Desdemona a once over. The manner in how she reacts to inhaling Desdemona’s scent alarms the younger Hawthorne sibling. She decides to inspect her more closel with flared nostrils and enlarged pupils. She seemed…pleased, for whatever reason. ‘Do they plan on sacrificing you to appease whatever wicked deity they believe in?’ Desdemona nervously asked herself.

One of the daughters, the one known as Bela and the one with the red pendant, spoke first. “We were out on the hunt in the village when I suddenly picked up on her delicious scent, mother. She’s a carrier of our favorite blood type. We haven’t had anyone like her in so long, we were hoping we could make a feast of her with your permission.”

Desdemona tensed up at the suggestion and vigorously shook her head. “M-may I ask what w-we did to offend you and your daughters? I apologize for any wrongdoing, ma’am but we’re just Americans on vacation and we ran out of gas on the way to Bran! We weren’t expecting to get lost but please let us go, we didn’t come out here to hurt anyone!” She pleaded with tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes flicking from Daniela to Cassandra and finally, the incredibly powerful woman standing before.

“Des, don’t go begging them. They’re not going to listen to reason, believe me; we tried!” Desmond warned.

The quiet dark-haired woman, Cassandra, sneered at Desdemona’s twin and slashed at his face with her sickle in hand. Desmond cries out and attempts to cover his face with his cuffed hands only to have them ripped away. She kicks his chest and flattens him on the ground. Cassandra smiles wickedly as she brings her heel to the open cut and presses hard against his face for a moment, stomping on him a few times for good measure. Both Veronica and Desdemona scream, begging the sadistic sister to stop tormenting him but their pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Good, girl, Cassandra. The hideous man-thing won’t shut his hole. I’m this close to gutting him on my newly polished floor and letting you girls get your fill for the evening. Ugh!” The woman in charge said before looking over to you once again. “It seems your exotic little treat has good manners considering what she is, however, and wishes to bargain with us. I can be a most gracious host and I’m all ears but I have two conditions if you wish to prolong your life, little one. Allow me to introduce myself first. I am Countess Alcina Dimitrescu and these beautiful girls of mine are my daughters Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela.”  

Veronica scoffed and spat at the floor, earning a glare from the titan of a woman who was apparently on the edge of snapping. Desdemona was ready to leave in one piece so of course she stepped in and spoke on behalf of her brother and her furious friend. “P-pleasure to meet you all, I’m Desdemona Hawthorne and that’s my twin brother, Desmond and my childhood friend Veronica. Ma’am, or My Lady, this all has to be a colossal misunderstanding and we are willing to pay any price if you allow us to leave and return home.”

The trembling girl gasped the moment she felt a pair of cold hands wrap themselves around her breasts from behind. Another set of hands reached for her belt buckle and began undoing her jeans rather enthusiastically. The next thing she knew, her v-neck shirt had been torn in half and her pants torn and ripped off her body.

“Desdemona, such a lovely name and what a lovely body. Mother, please let me keep her? I promise I won’t break her.” Daniela whined as she rubbed her hands up and down the length of her victim’s bare torso. It didn’t help the situation at hand when Daniela’s touch left Desdemona arching back into her, which must have sent the wrong signal because the delusional woman squealed with delight.

“If you or Cassandra had it your way, you’d bleed her dry on the first night and waste her blood when I would savor every inch of her until her very last moment!” Bela complained, her fingers inching dreadfully closer to the band of her undergarments.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off my sister, you twisted bitches. Stop fucking touching her! I’ll kill you, I swear it!” Desmond bellowed, managing to pull away from Lady Dimitrescu’s clutches and lunged at the women that were touching his twin inappropriately. He swung his arms at Daniela and used the length of the chain to whip against the side of her body. Daniela, caught off guard by his sudden attack, screeched in surprise and this immediately angered Alcina.

“ENOUGH!” Lady Dimitrescu signaled for her daughters to apprehend Desmond and the girls obliged, their concern for Daniela overwhelming even to them. Bela and Cassandra ambushed him on either side and using their transformative powers, they pulled him away from their youngest sibling and slammed his body against the nearest wall. Cassandra pinned his shackled hands above his head while Bela held onto his thrashing legs tightly.

Veronica was breathing heavily but made no move to run to him, not while Alcina held her leash tightly. Her brows were furrowed, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she tried to refrain from saying anything that would cause them to harm Desmond.

Desdemona could only cry out for mercy as it physically pained her to watch her own twin suffer at the hands of these monsters.

Meanwhile, Alcina had been hunched over Daniela and whispered disturbingly soothing things into her daughter’s ears, words expressed by a loving mother to her daughter, and it looked almost normal. When Alcina stepped away from Daniela, she composed herself after displaying what she deemed a moment of vulnerability and shot Desmond a withering glare. “How dare you touch my daughter with your filthy man-hands, you wretched creature. I can see there is no taming a wild animal like you and like all wild animals, they must be put down! I was ready to lay down my conditions if I were to let you leave alive but you really screwed yourself. Desdemona Hawthorne, seeing as you were polite and tried to communicate in a manner I found pleasing, you shall be gifted to my daughters as their personal form of entertainment. You will be their plaything, and your trashy friend, Veronica, who is now under my employ as a house maiden, will be forced to clean you up after every time they choose to play with you. She will be beaten and broken until she learns what it is to be obedient.” Alcina growls out menacingly, enjoying the way Veronica begins to hyperventilate at the terrifying concept of being broken in by someone like Lady Dimitrescu. Alcina drags Veronica across the room as she approaches Desmond and Veronica is now desperately trying to claw her away from the elegant countess. Raising her free hand in the air, sharp elongated claws form almost immediately at the tips of her fingers. It was in this moment that panic begins to set within Desdemona as she realizes what she’s about to do and so she attempts to rush Lady Dimitrescu. Daniela is quick to catch her prey and uses force to subdue Desdemona. She slams her knee against Desdemona’s back and brings her down to her knees, hooking both of her arms from around and underneath the smaller girl and forcefully raises her arms up. “Let this be a hard lesson, my darling. Don’t you ever disrespect my mother in her own home or disobey her when she gives you an order. There are worst things than death, love, and they wander the mansion unsupervised at night.” Daniela whispers into Desdemona’s ears before bringing her attention back to her mother. Heart hammering against her chest, Desdemona’s blood runs cold when she sees Desmond shed a tear at the realization that he was going to pay the ultimate price. In a quivering voice, Desmond beckons his sister to look at him one final time.

‘Oh no, no no no. They can’t do this, they won’t do this! I have to help him. I’m not sure I can live without my other half, it would be too cruel for me to go on without him!’ Desdemona thinks, weeping at the sight of her twin brother sacrificing his own life for hers. “P-please, my l-lady, let him go I beg you! Don’t hurt him please, I’ll do anything if you let him go. Don’t take him away from me, please.” Desdemona begs. Steely gray eyes meet hers and she recognizes that he is resigned to his fate. She sucks in a deep breath, unwilling to break eye contact as he says his final goodbye. “See you on the other side, Dezzy. Promise me you’ll make it out of here. Mom deserves to know. I love you and V…so very much.” He tells her with a wavering voice. In the background, Veronica is verbalizing her objections and pleads for Desmond’s freedom but in the end, it was all for naught.

With an evil smirk and a deep chuckle, Alcina brings down her claw at Desmond’s abdomen, slashing him so deeply that his innards begin to seep out of him.

Desdemona feels like she’s suffocating, her lungs unable to function as she struggles to make a sound no matter how much she wants to cry out her brother’s name one more time. She throws her head back and opens her mouth to wail but nothing comes out but a few choked coughs. The surviving twin couldn’t explain it but it felt like Alcina personally reached into her chest and destroyed the most important part of her being. Desmond was her other half and upon death, a most profound connection between siblings is severed and there lies nothing left but an echo of what was once there. Desdemona felt…empty, as if she would never be whole again now that her brother was gone.

She shuts her eyes and the horrifying image of Desmond’s intestines piling up on the floor and blood sloshing everywhere replays again in her mind. The hurt is renewed and this time, she summons every ounce of emotion she could as she screams out his name, Veronica’s loud, panicked screaming fueling her grief.

“DESMOND!”

She screams it over and over again until her body slumps in Daniela’s arms. She’s too weak to do anything else. She can hear voices and the sound of heels clicking but she can’t hear what is being said. Desdemona tries her very best to drown out the background noise as her sorrow was too great but Cassandra’s voice breaks her out of her reverie and it is what she murmurs in Desdemona’s ears as she passes by that makes her whimper for an entirely different reason.

“Just you wait until I make you say my name like a prayer, love. This is only the beginning.”

[buddiebeginz]

So I finally got to watch 4x08 and I have a lot of thoughts so be prepared for a long rant.

For starters I literally groaned out loud when I saw they brought back Taylor Kelly. I know that some would make the argument well the only reason you don’t like her is because you want Buck with Eddie. If Eddie didn’t even exist I still wouldn’t like her and I definitely wouldn’t want her anywhere near Buck. She’s incredibly self centered doesn’t care who she hurts at times and can be really manipulative too. Like how she went out of her way to hurt Buck in front of Albert and Veronica for no reason. I get it if she didn’t totally understand why Buck asked her there but she could have said that to him privately. She could have left without turning it into a whole big spectacle to make Buck look like a dick.

Then the stuff she said to him in the hallway was just totally messed up. Buck called her because he got roped into the stupid double date thing and didn’t want to look like a loser in front of Albert and Veronica but also it’s clear he’s been feeling lonely for a while and didn’t want to be the third wheel. He should have communicated more to Taylor what was going on with the dinner but nothing about what he was doing was malicious or manipulative to me, Buck can just be kind of clueless at times.

When they were in the hallway Taylor made it seem like Buck used her. That he basically wanted people to see him with “famous” Taylor Kelly the reporter. The thing is when Taylor got to the apartment she thought that her and Buck were going to have dinner and hook up. She was clearly planning on using Buck for sex like she has before, yet she accuses him of using her.

She called him needy and said that he can’t stand the idea of someone not liking him. To which he ends up apologizing. Watching this I’m like WTAF are you apologizing for Buck? This woman is trashing the shit out of you and you’re standing there apologizing?! I mean this is what I’m talking about when I say she’s manipulative. Like I said before Buck should have communicated better what was going on that night but it’s also not his fault that Taylor assumed he was calling her over for a hook up. I also don’t think Buck called her because she’s sort of famous and he wanted to look good or to use her, I think he didn’t want to look like he’s all alone when everyone around him has someone. He had seen her recently and talked to her about things he’d been dealing with so I think she was the first person he could think of to help him and likely the only one really.

Even after Buck tried to explain some of this to her and tried to be vulnerable about how he was feeling what does she do? She laughs at him then basically calls him a liar and tells him that he treats his friends shitty and his issues with Albert are his fault. Never mind the fact that Buck had opened up to her about feeling uncomfortable about his roommate dating a woman he dated and bringing her home to their house. Never mind the fact that Taylor knows nothing about Buck and his relationships.

I mean she says something earlier in the episode  “your life is nothing but meaningful relationships” (talking about the 118) but that’s pretty obvious to anyone who meets them so I don’t give her much credit for that. Not to mention a while back she spent time in the firehouse filming so that was easy enough to see then. But the fact that she could spend time with Buck and he could open up to her the way he has multiple times through out the show and she could still make the kind of snap judgments she does about him or use him the way she does is just awful.

By the end of the episode the shows tries to make Taylor look like this poor sad woman who is dealing with so much and I think they were even trying to make the connection that she was also feeling alone like Buck feels alone. They also try to make it seem like she just wants to help people, again I think trying to connect her to Buck and his innate desire to help everyone around him but I don’t think she’s anything like Buck and I still can’t stand her.

I really hope people haven’t forgotten that this was the same fame hungry woman that was ready to air footage of Bobby (calling out to his dead daughter) and almost jumping off the roof when he had eaten laced brownies. She made it clear when we met her when kind of a person she is. That she was the kind of person who would probably sell her own mother if it meant furthering her career. The thing is I definitely believe characters who make mistakes or who start out as villainous or problematic should be allowed to grow and change (I mean some of my favorite characters are ones that have started out awful) but this doesn’t feel like a character that has changed. At all. The way she went out of her way to try and humiliate Buck in front of Albert and Veronica and the things she said in the hallway prove that. I’ll be utterly disgusted if they try to pair her up with Buck.

------------

I’m just really tired of how the show seems to treat Buck. I have no problem with characters going through hard times, dealing with others being awful to them, or even abuse. These are all things that happen in real life and can make for great storylines. But if you’re going to show a character repeatedly going through something it should serve a purpose, it should be leading towards something and I’m not sure if the 911 writers get that. I love the show but sometimes I feel like they’re just putting Buck through stuff for the hell of it.

Like we’ve repeatably seen women treating Buck awful which in an of itself isn’t a problem if it’s going somewhere. Like the show could use that as way to say Buck is always picking the wrong people and has problems with speaking up for his needs (likely because of his family). There’s a lot the show could explore with Buck’s relationships especially with him seeing a therapist. Unfortunately though we haven’t been seeing him talking to the therapist and especially after this recent episode where it feels like the same old same old (i.e. a woman treats Buck like crap and Buck apologizes) it just doesn’t feel like there’s a good enough reason they keep writing Buck’s storylines like this.

First there was Abby who I feel like used Buck in some ways to jump start her life back up and then ghosted him when she didn’t need him anymore. Then she didn’t even take responsibility for that when she saw him again nor did the show really let Buck call her out on how she made him feel really. Then there was Ali who knew how dangerous Buck’s job was when she got involved with him and did anyway then chose to drop him when he was going through one of the toughest times of his life. The show didn’t even do Buck the dignity of really talking about what happened with that relationship she just was gone by the next season.

There was Taylor who just used Buck for sex and for her career and who the show tried to paint as being like the female version of Buck which I thought was kind of bullshit. Buck has made plenty of mistakes in his life and he certainly was all about sex when we first met him in season 1 but in the first place Buck would have never sunk to the kind of lows Taylor has just for his career. Being a firefighter is everything to Buck but the 118 are like his family and he wants to be a firefighter to help people not just for fame or glory. There was the lawsuit but Buck didn’t even realize how much that asshole lawyer was going to go after the 118 and I’m pretty sure if he did he wouldn’t have done it. You can tell when Buck talks about it to Eddie how much he still regrets it. As for all the sex Buck was having it’s clear he was looking for a more meaningful connection and just hadn’t learned yet that wasn’t where he was going to get it. Not to mention it seemed like a lot of the women he was sleeping with were just using him to an extent like the therapist who slept with him. Buck is very different from Taylor who in my eyes is not a very empathetic or emotional person and seems much more about herself than anyone else. So the shows need to compare them really gets on my nerves.

Then there was his date with Veronica which was just ridiculous. My problem wasn’t that they had her be some strawman SJW feminist who got offended by everything it was the way they had Buck respond. As usual he wasn’t allowed to stand up for himself and just had to sit there and take the mistreatment.

It hasn’t just been in romantic relationships either we saw what Buck went through with his family and the show just kind of closed that off with Buck forgiving them for a lifetime of abuse.

I don’t get why the show constantly lets Buck get treated like crap by so many people around him and without standing up for himself no less. Like I was so angry about that scene in the hallway with him and Taylor. It would have been one thing if Taylor had lashed out at him (maybe taking her own issues out on him something she could have explained later) but the show still should have had Buck push back against some of the bs she was spewing. I’m tired of Buck having to hear how much of a failure he is. I’m tired of seeing Buck hurt by people he tries to let in. Buck would literally die for the people he loves. He almost has numerous times. So to hear someone like Taylor trashing him and telling him he wasn’t a good friend was so infuriating.

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I mean it’s not that everything with Buck is handled bad. I love the relationships he has with the 118 and especially with Bobby and Athena. Her and Bobby are almost like parents to Buck especially when it feels like Buck never really had the family he deserved and I love them for that. There’s also Maddie who has always been there for Buck and their relationship is so important. But the best relationship Buck has is obviously with Eddie. He’s the one who gets Buck the most and who Buck is the most himself with. Buck doesn’t have to hide or hold back with Eddie and neither one of them are afraid to call each other out when necessary.

I love the relationship Buck has with Eddie and I really want them to just get together already, though I know there’s no guarantee that will happen. But if the plan isn’t for Buddie to happen I wish that the show would stop dangling that relationship around every episode as a way to pull viewers in because it’s clear they know how popular they are. I especially wish that the show would be clearer about what they plan to do with Buck’s sexuality. I feel like there’s been so many hints since the beginning that Buck could be bi and I don’t know where the show is going with it.

I’ve seen people saying that Buddie isn’t going to happen and it doesn’t need to happen because there’s already other lgbtq characters on 911 and there’s a main lgbtq ship on Lone Star but I disagree. Buddie could still happen but even if it doesn’t the show could definitely still explore Buck’s sexuality. It would be so important to have a main male character who has been straight presenting on a popular prime time show come out as bi. There’s this misconception that representation in media for lgbtq isn’t that big of a deal anymore because there are so many lgbtq characters now but it is still a big deal and many shows still don’t feature lgbtq characters and storylines prominently nor do their stories justice. They definitely don’t when it comes to bi characters especially bi men.

To have a character like Buck have a storyline that would explore his sexuality would be huge. It would be even more huge if it was about him coming out as bisexual. Biphobia is a big problem not just from straight people but within the lgbtq community maybe even more so in some ways. Popular media rarely shows accurate good depictions of bi storylines. Even when there are bi characters on shows or movies we usually don’t get to see their journey like we have in media through the years with other lgbtq characters. We rarely get to see what it’s like to figure out you’re bi and to live as a bi person. As someone who is bi myself I really want this to change. 

The show has made many hints to Buck’s sexuality and it’s something that they could easily explore. If they aren’t planning on going that route though I don’t get why they keep hinting at it. I don’t get why they’ve had multiple instances where people have commented on Buck’s sexuality or being with Eddie and he never corrects them. I mean once would be enough but what is the point of the show doing it over and over? I mean the Lone Star moment was just crazy to me if they don’t plan on doing anything. It didn’t just feel like a throw away joke moment especially since Buck didn’t deny it and Eddie came around the corner it felt like the show was saying something.

If the show isn’t planning on having Buck come out or putting Eddie and him together why does it feel like Buck and Eddie behave almost like a married couple? I mean they connect and know each other almost more than some of the actual married couples on the show. It feels like Buck is Chris’ other dad. I mean we saw Eddie going out with Ana but at the same time it almost felt like it did with Shannon like Eddie just trying to do right by Christopher and make sure he has mom. After the date the one Eddie comes home to is Buck. When Chris is upset the one he runs to is Buck.

If Eddie and Buck and Chris aren’t meant to be a family was does the show keep making it seem like they are each other’s safe space? It’s clear that the connection Buck and Eddie have goes beyond just being friends. It’s just unclear why the show has developed them this way and what they plan on doing with them now.

One last thing in this giant ramble. This episode was called “Breaking Point” but I feel like we didn’t see Buck’s breaking point. I’m hoping that all these bread crumbs are leading somewhere in exploring Buck’s sexuality maybe this episode title was a clue that Buck’s breaking point is coming. We’ve had lots of hints about his sexuality throughout the course of the show and this season in particular there’s been a lot of talk about how lonely he feels and how disconnected he seems to feel from everyone. So maybe we’ll get to see him talking to his therapist and exploring some of these feelings. Maybe if Eddie continues to see Ana Buck will end up feeling jealous and this will bring up feelings he hasn’t wanted to confront yet, about himself and about Eddie. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Tell Me Everything

Follows Found Out, Akio, Chris Sees, and I’m Here

CW: References to murder, suicide, grief, pet whump, abduction, whump of a minor, ableism, Oliver Branch manages to be creepy even now in brief reference

He’s shorter than Ben thought he would be.

Ben sees him first, but, like of course he does - Akio Nakamura isn’t exactly famous but he has his own youtube channel and is like an Olympic-level athlete, so he’s pretty fucking recognizable... if you’ve spent two days scrolling through every Instagram photo of him on three different accounts that you can find. 

Ben showed up thirty minutes early, because Ben has never been late to a fucking thing in his life and something tells him this is maybe one of the most important things he’ll ever do, even though he doesn’t quite know why. 

Something about it keeps picking at his mind, taking it apart, unraveling him with the reality that someone fucking cared about Chris, before whatever happened. Chris doesn’t remember much, and Ben and Laken had done the googling and searching and shit, trying to get some idea of what the hell could have happened to make someone like Chris - bouncy and full of sunshine optimism even on his bad days - end up at a place like WRU.

They’d found nothing a first. But Ben hadn’t known what he was looking for, then. Now that he knows what to look for, he can’t stop finding things. He feels like a detective or someone who has lost his mind, desperately piecing together a life that was interrupted, like someone disappearing mid-sentence, and Ben is following a trail of the words he said before. 

He finds human-interest stories from ten years ago, digitized articles from old community newspapers. He finds more photos from the gym, photos where the redheaded boy is in the background, or in the front always looking slightly off to one side, rarely smiling for the camera but happy to smile as long as he didn’t have to look right at it.

He finds out Veronica Higgs, murdered in the double-homicide that had destroyed the life of Tristan Higgs, had a facebook page, and it’s marked as In Memorial. So is her husband’s, but Paul Higgs’s page is private and his profile photo is a meme that hasn’t been a thing since…

Since they died.

Something about that makes his throat close up as he scrolls Ronnie’s last few public updates, the scattering of people who have left comments saying they miss her, they’re thinking of her, they hope she’s in a better place. Comments are left on the last post like clockwork, once a year, by the same few people. 

Thinking of you today, Ronnie. 

Saw your favorite bird today!

Hope you and Tris and Paul are happy wherever you are now, Ronnie. I take comfort in knowing you’re still together.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Ronnie!

Left flowers for you today, Ronnie. Jennifer did a routine this year that uses some of Tristan’s music, we’re always thinking of you!

Thinking of you

Miss you

Hope you three are happy together

Miss you, big sister, always.

One day I’ll stop leaving comments like you’re still here. I was watching the old videos and gosh, I couldn’t help but think how proud we were of our boys back then! Rest in peace. Give Tris a kiss for me. That’s Aimi Nakamura, that’s Akio’s mom. Her profile photo is her with her arms around Akio himself, wearing his leotard and holding up a medal with a bright smile, and a younger teenager who must be his little sister - she’s just wearing regular clothes. Feeling like a stalker, Ben opens the mom’s facebook page in a new tab. He absolutely does not look at the photos of Akio she’s posted. He does not do that at all.

He might do that later.

For now he goes back to Ronnie’s page, sees that her last post was brief, something about looking for a recipe, crowd-sourcing. Tris asked to try baked oysters, isn’t that funny? Only my kid, I swear. He’d said seafood is ‘slime’ except for tuna since toddlerhood, but no, this week he wants oysters. He said he wanted to try something new for once and he might as well go as far from the usual as he could get. I

One of the joys of all of this is how when he gets something in his head, I just go with him, and we see what’s on the other side of the jump, right? Watch him spit it right back out. 

It’s fucking ordinary. 

She posted it a couple days before she was murdered.

That doesn’t seem fair, does it? He just can’t wrap his head around it. She was a good mom taking care of her kid, she got some recipe ideas... but then she never cooked any of them because she just… died?

She died, and Tristan’s - Chris’s - dad died, and then there just wasn’t anybody? There wasn’t anybody to take care of a kid who couldn’t take care of himself yet? Nobody at-fucking-all, to keep Tristan safe and loved when the people who loved him the most were gone? 

How the hell did he go from placed in the care of relatives to just... gone? How did he go from gone to a rescued runaway pet with a new name and a new life? What happened in all that gray space in-between?

Ben blinks back tears.

Whatever it was... could that happen to Jamey? Ben’s whole family has built their existence on holding his little brother together through the ways the world wants to shred everything about him. He’s spent nearly all the life he remembers with his brother’s hand closed in the fabric of his shirt, shadowing him through the world, reminding him that you can’t trust everybody, not everyone has good intentions. 

Ben doesn’t even have to think before he’s moving in front of him to block out the noise and chaos of the world that Jamey just can't filter the way Ben can. He knows that when - hopefully forever from now - their parents die, Jamey’s going to move in with Ben. 

It’s never been a question. He doesn’t want it to be a question.

But... what if Ben wasn’t there? What would happen to Jamey if his Mom and Dad were gone, and nobody was there who wanted to keep Jamey safe? He can’t stop thinking about it. He cycles around and around, and Laken called him yesterday and said not to talk to Chris for a few days, that he saw the video and he’s not okay, and Ben’s not fucking okay, either, is he?

This could happen to Jamey.

Someone could see him, alone and vulnerable, and think, no one will stop me and he can’t stop me either, and then Jamey could disappear and then just not be Jamey anymore, and there wouldn’t be anyone to save him-

Ben looks up from his phone without focusing on anything, sniffing back the pain, the tight feeling in his chest at the idea of his little brother, disappearing into some dark hallway and never coming back. Just some photos on Instagram, a video of two, some mentions on somebody’s In Memorial Facebook page, that’s all that’s left of his silly, serious, annoying, funny little brother?

Like someone turned out the light on Jamey’s life and the world just forgets him, because his family isn’t there to keep him safe and Jamey can’t always tell who you can trust and who you can’t, and… and Chris can’t either, can he?

He just wants to think the best of everyone, he forgives everyone who hurts him so easily, so quickly, like it’s second-nature, like...

Did Tristan Higgs want to think good things about whoever did this, whoever had him erased, whoever handed him off to be turned into one of those blank empty-eyed dolls celebrities and rich people drag around? Did Tristan Higgs trust the person who gave him away to be erased, because he didn’t know not to?

Who the fuck bought him?

How did it all fucking happen?

The bell chimes. Akio Nakamura is right on time.

And he’s short.

He’s got a natural almost-smile on his face at all times, a hint of tan to his skin even now in the early spring, wearing a thin gray hoodie, unzipped over a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. His muscles aren’t visible, like this, but Ben has seen the videos and knows they’re there, the body of a trained athlete hidden under casual clothing. His hair isn’t as short as it is when he competes, in the videos Ben has already watched over and over entirely for research purposes. It’s a little longer, starting to flop over his forehead.

Dark eyes scan the interior of the store, and Ben raises one hand to catch his attention.

The smile brightens, briefly, with a quick nod - like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Ben feels that smile as a physical warmth in his chest - and he pushes the rest of the way inside, walking straight over. 

“Hey,” Akio says, and his voice is a little deeper than it seems in the youtube videos where he narrates, and Ben, for one shining moment, completely forgets how to speak his own fucking native language.

His mouth opens and nothing comes out - except maybe kind of a croak, which, please let that not have been audible - and he clears his throat, waiting for his brain and his body to remember how to work together. “Uh… um, h-hey,” He says, finally, and shifts uncomfortably. “You’re-... right. I’m, um. I’m Ben.”

“Yeah. I, I figured, you look just like your profile photo.” Akio laughs a little, dropping into a seat cross from him, sitting casually and letting his eyes roam over the mostly-empty interior of the shop, painted with bright colors and lined with posters about ice cream. 

Ben could not possibly have picked a worse place for a professional athlete to go to… meet and talk about his dead friend, could he? Oh, God. Oh he’s a fucking moron. “Right. Uh, sorry, I couldn’t-... when you asked to meet on the phone, I kind of blanked and this was the only place I could think of-”

“Hey, that’s all right. I like coming here, when I’m off from competing. It’s been a while. Hope you don’t mind if I stick with an iced coffee today, though, I’m not feeling ice cream.” Akio grins at him, and Ben’s knees might buckle if he wasn’t sitting down already. The smile takes over his entire face, lights it up, and it reminds him so much of Chris when he’s really happy, the way Chris smiles with his entire fucking body, not just his mouth. 

“Yeah, it’s… no problem, I’ll order, I picked here, anyway. Just the iced coffee?” 

“Yeah, please. Also, I should warn you - my mom is lurking across the street faking an interest in whatever they sell at Paisley Poses and she’ll probably stop pretending she’s not here and show up before we’re done. She’s… uh. Well, get the stuff, and then I’ll, um, I’ll explain.”

“Right. Got it.” Ben’s grip on his phone is white-knuckled as he stands up, aware of every movement of his body as he walks - and he walks normally, right? Not, like weird? It’s not like Akio is watching him walk anyway, probably - over to the cash register. The cashier, whose hair is dyed a pale faded sort of seafoam green, almost the color of those weird mint shakes you can buy from McDonald’s in April, takes his order with a flat affect, unbothered, uncaring.

Ben doesn’t know what he orders for himself. His mouth moves and words come out and then he realizes he doesn’t know what he just said. 

Whatever it is, he pays for it.

He takes the little number-on-a-stick, and carries it back to the table to wait. 

“Iced coffee it is,” He says a little breathlessly. “Um, it’ll be just a sec. They’ll bring it out with my… with mine.”

Shit, what the fuck did he even order for himself?

“No problem.” Akio’s eyes move over his face, considering. He’s sitting slouched a little, but it doesn’t look quite natural - like his posture is usually so much better and he’s trying to look like everyone else. Ben’s eyes are drawn to his hands, folded over his stomach, over wrinkled white shirt fabric. He has a blood-bruise under one thumbnail.

What a weird fucking thing to notice about someone.

“I-I don’t really know where to start,” Ben admits, slouching himself. He runs his fingers over the textured case of his phone, a charcoal-black with rough edges. Jamey likes the texture on his phone, will just sit and rub the pads of his fingers on it over and over and over again, smiling in a distant way, sitting next to Ben on the couch while Ben watches TV and Jamey, who can go days without speaking and is currently one hundred percent all about how they film movies and tv shows, explains every fucking cinematic trick every camera is using at any given moment.

It’s nice.

It’s how Jamey says he loves you, by sharing what’s up in his head whenever he can, and Ben - when he’s home - always tries to listen. 

“Yeah.” Akio laughs again, and Ben decides it’s a good laugh - strong, and not overly loud, and a little infectious. “Yeah, me neither. I don’t-... how do you even begin a conversation like this? Hello, nice to meet you, what do you know about my dead best friend? I don’t know what to say, just… we don’t even know they’re the same person, do we? Maybe they just look alike. Fuck.” Akio laughs once more, but this time it’s shaky, breathier. “I genuinely can’t decide if I want him to dead or not, I just-...”

Ben takes a breath, thinking of Laken’s voice on the phone yesterday morning, exhausted and rambling after a night of not sleeping, their fear and grief and love for Chris, telling Ben to go ahead with this meeting, but Chris needed time. “They’re definitely the same person,” He says, voice low and quiet. “We, um. He saw the video you posted, and he kind of-... freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” Akio blinks, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes are focused completely on Ben’s face, which would make him blush if he weren’t trying not to look directly at him. “What do you mean?”

Ben swallows. “Um. Just. He’s-... he doesn’t remember. Or… he didn’t. Seeing the video might have… brought some stuff up. Like, a lot of... bad stuff.”

Fuck, I’ve never heard him scream like that. Laken’s voice, rough-edged, laced with their tears. I can’t believe… he needs a few days, he can’t go with you to see this guy, Ben. He’s-... he’s super fucked up right now. I’m so glad his brothers know what’s happening to him because I-I don’t know what to do and he won’t let me anywhere near him. 

Akio nods, slowly, and his hands worry at each other under the table, the smile faded and replaced with seriousness, uncertainty. “Yeah, when you said-... anyway, I looked the company up, and it’s-... it’s weird, I knew about pets, but I guess… I mean, he wasn’t old enough to…” 

“Um… yeah. So, um. I know, but they-... clearly they still did...”

They sit there in an awkward silence, and then Akio pulls his own phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. “Let me show you something. Tris and I shared our passwords for Instagram, way back, and when he-... went… when his aunt took his phone away-”

Ben’s eyebrows furrow. Something about that pricks at him. Miss you, big sister, always. 

“He went to live with his aunt?” Ben asks. The cashier reappears, setting a plain iced coffee down on the table, and Ben discovers he apparently ordered iced coffee with a scoop of ice cream for himself, and that’s not bad, good for him. It’s even his favorite ice cream, vanilla with almond and chocolate chips.

“Yeah, his Aunt Jo, his mom’s sister.” Akio shrugs one shoulder. “I never met her, she never came to meets or anything. Tris always said she was kind of a shit to him and his dad.” Something in his jaw is tightening - and the line of his jaw is catching Ben’s eyes entirely too much for the seriousness of this conversation. He can’t stop himself from looking. “She’s who he went to live with, after. She took his phone away because he was complaining to, um, to my mom and I - my mom and Ronnie, Mrs. Higgs, were… you know, team moms.” He shrugs, and Ben doesn’t know, but he nods anyway. “He was complaining about how she took him out of therapy, and… uh, you know, Tris needed therapy, just-... it helped him to, um-”

Ben swallows. “Self-regulate,” He says, softly. “Redirect potentially harmful stims. Figure out how to filter.”

“Right.” Akio smiles, a little shamefaced. “Sorry, it’s been… fucking years since I had to think about this so much. It’s… I would show my mom his messages, and my mom would call Jo and tell her to get him back in therapy and back to practice, but… you know, the social workers said there was nothing we could do about it. We weren’t family. We made complaints, but...” Akio slumps, closing his eyes briefly. "God, I don't even know if they did a home visit."

Ben closes his eyes. Jamey, trapped with someone who didn’t let him go to his own therapy. Jamey, nonverbal on hard days, trapped with someone who didn’t learn signing to talk to him during meltdowns like Ben’s family did. 

Jamey, trying to say he needed help with his hands again and again but no one’s listening, no one’s even trying anymore-

“Yeah,” Ben says, voice hoarse, and uses a thin plastic spoon with a long handle to get a bite of ice cream soaked in cold coffee taste, letting it dissolve on his tongue to buy himself some time for his throat to open back up. It’s fear in his chest, yeah, but beneath that is a bubbling, simmering fury, a distant anger for a hypothetical that he understands was Chris’s reality. “Yeah. My brother’s-... um, autistic, so I know… I know about it.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

Ben blinks, caught off-guard. “What?”

Akio flushes, reddening along his cheekbones, and rolls his eyes at himself, slumping back down. “Okay, so, I promise I’m not a stalker, but when you messaged me I looked at your profile to see if you were just a creep. I saw the autism banner, so I looked and you wrote this really sweet thing about your brother-... how old is he?”

Ben almost forgets how to speak again. “He’s-... fifteen. Just turned fifteen. Jamey’s, um, his name is Jamey.”

“Cool. Yeah. So. I’m not a stalker. But, I’m just… listen, Tris and I started training at the gym together when we were like… seven. And I was seventeen when he, when she said… when she said he died.”

Ben’s breath catches. “Shit. She did?”

“Um. Yeah. A month after she took his phone away - we were calling her all the time asking to speak with him and stuff, my mom had kind of threatened to get social services involved again - she called my mom and said he-... um. Sorry if suicide is a thing for you, but…”

“No, I-I’m okay, I just…”

“Yeah. She told us he killed himself. We thought she was lying - oh fuck, she was lying, wasn’t she? - but so... but then you know, she had him cremated, and... I fucking-... I lost my shit, Ben. I didn’t compete, I didn’t train, I just, I just sat in my room for like six months bawling my eyes out and I told my mom it was just like she killed him, taking him away from everything when, you know, he was so sad and scared without them.”

Ben nods, quiet, watching Akio’s face as he speaks.

“My mom offered to take him, have him live with us, but… you know, she said no, and then he-... but he didn’t.” Akio drinks his coffee, absently, and Ben realizes his eyes are red around the edges. “Oh, god, he probably thought nobody cared about him anymore. Oh, shit. He probably thought we stopped giving a fuck. That h-he was al-... alone-”

He’s been crying. He’s maybe going to cry again.

Akio takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “He didn’t know-... shit. He probably just thought, no one’s coming, nobody cares, and… shit. I don’t know what to even think right now, just...” Akio slides his phone across the table. “Look at this. I locked it, when I thought-... but I kept it, anyway. I kept everything, I couldn’t-... I mean it’s just a box of stuff under my bed, but… I couldn’t throw any of it out, because… I don’t know. Somebody needed to, to r-remember him, and she wouldn’t have-... that fucking bitch told us he was dead. And she threw out all his stuff, so I’m... I guess I’m the only one who still has anything, so I just... kept it. Everything. And... this.”

There’s a moment where they both pretend Akio’s voice isn’t trembling.

“What is this?” Ben knows before the question is fully out of his mouth, but he looks anyway. Akio’s phone is still warm from his hand. 

“Tristan’s Instagram account. We, uh, we took pictures of stupid shit a lot back then, and Instagram was, like, super new and all filters all the time, so you just-... but this is his. His mom encouraged him to use it because, you know, sometimes he could show stuff better than he could say it.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Ben tilts his head, scrolling through the images. Most of the photos are just nothing - a cloud, books on a bookshelf, a tree leaf. Ben kind of quirks a smile at all the old Instagram filters right there, like looking in a fucking time capsule. Sometimes there are gymnastics photos, of the gym or of someone training. Sometimes Tristan himself appears in the photo, a blur of constant motion, photos taken by someone else. Photos of dinosaur bones at a museum, seemingly every fucking skeleton or fossil in the place.

“That’s our trip to DC, the team went,” Akio says, and points to a photo of Tristan and Akio, gangly awkward teenagers, standing in front of the Lincoln monument. Akio is smiling, and Tristan is looking up at the sky instead of the camera. “I like to look at this stuff sometimes? I know it’s been… it’s funny, we were talking a few weeks ago about how it’ll be a couple more years when he’s been dead longer than how long I knew him, but he’s not-... he was never dead.” Akio swallows, and his voice catches. When he speaks again, he sounds strained, forcing his voice to stay calm around the emotion that threatens to overtake it. “He was never dead. I keep getting caught up on that, because-... because how did we not know? How did we never… find him?”

Ben pushes the phone back to Akio. “You didn’t know to look,” He says, softly. “How were you supposed to find him if you didn’t know anyone needed to be looking?”

“I guess. My mom feels like shit, she’s been crying since we spoke to you. Well, I have, too. But my mom feels like she… she should have showed up at Joanne’s door and just taken Tristan by force, but, you know, the cops would’ve taken him right back, probably? That’s fucking kidnapping? And I keep telling her not to feel guilty, but she-”

“Yeah,” Ben says, thinking of Laken’s voice on the phone. 

I didn’t know he’d come home early. I keep saying I’m sorry but... He wasn’t-... he wasn’t ready for this and he’s so… he’s so fucked up. He won’t even talk to me. Every time Jake leaves the room we’re scared he’ll hurt himself again. He keeps telling me to find someone else, somebody easier, but I don’t want anyone else, god damn it, I want him! 

“She’s taking it really hard,” Akio says, finally, breaking into Ben’s thoughts. “I mean. We both are. But, you know, I keep thinking I can’t do this but then I think… I want to see him again. I want to see this guy in person, not just in those photos and videos you had. I want to see how he’s doing, he looks-... he looks so good.” Akio coughs, like he’s trying to cover up a sob, not quite managing it. “He looks really good.”

“He is, he’s doing… he’s good. Um, he’s having a hard time with remembering some stuff, but overall... he’s good.” Ben picks his own phone back up, pops back to Ronnie’s page. “What did you say the aunt’s name was?”

“Jo, um, Joanne… something. Sorry, I don’t really remember her last name, my mom would-”

“Botham?” Ben looks up, and god, he kind of wants to hug Akio until there aren’t tears in his eyes anymore. But also that’s a stupid thing to think, isn’t it? But he wants to, anyway. 

“Oh, that sounds right.”

“She left a comment on his mom’s-... I’ve been looking for everything I could find. I’m sorry, I know that’s creepy. But Joanne Botham left like a comment about missing-... hold on.” Ben clicks to open up Joanne Botham’s profile. A woman smiling in a profile photo, with dark hair. Something about the shape of her mouth is similar to Chris’s, but that doesn’t mean much, really. He scrolls down. 

Name, stupid quote from a stupider movie, current city is a while away from this one, like a couple states away, but she could’ve moved… There it is.

The answer to his questions, all of them, all at once, right out in the open.

“Joanne Botham,” He says out loud, “works at WRU.”

“What?” Akio looks up at him.

“His aunt. The mom’s sister, she works for WRU. That’s where Chris was-... where they hurt him. Where they make pets.”

Where they erase people. Where they take someone like Jamey and destroy him and how many versions of my brother are there who weren’t rescued by somebody like Chris’s big brother?

“WRU?” Akio’s face twists, an ugly pain written across it. “They’re one of our team’s sponsors. I’ve never thought about how… oh my god. I, I never liked… I mean, none of us are, like, political about it because you can’t be if you want an Olympic career, not really, but we all kind of hated taking the money. My coach thinks it’s good because it gets people off the street, which is super fucked up, but…” His iced coffee thunks down on the table. 

“What?”

“Oh shit. Oh holy fuck. They’ve been sponsoring us since we met with the old governor - he’s the one who hooked our coach up with their marketing team, and… oh my god. I’m gonna be fucking sick. WRU’s been my sponsor since like… a year after Tristan died-... didn’t die, I guess...”

“You didn’t know,” Ben whispers, staring down at Joanne Botham’s profile photo, scrolling through the profile picture photo album. He’s not maybe the smartest person on earth, but he can put two and two together for four. Tristan Higgs’s parents died, he goes to his aunt - who works for a human pet company - and he’s dead, supposedly, four months later. 

Time passes. No sign of supposed dead boy.

Then Chris, identical in every way, appears with no memory of his life and a thousand traumas to heal from, rescued from something that Ben doesn’t know the details of, but he doesn’t have to. 

Life as a pet, a life that made him terrified of bad weather and scared of people who raise their hands too quickly, unable to say no to anything when he gets scared, nervous about big vans with no windows, someone who says stupid fucking bullshit like silence is better than stammering when he’s upset, who sometimes has screaming nightmares that Laken has to wake him from that he refuses to explain to them...

Meanwhile, Aunt Joanne is putting up photos of herself traveling internationally, buying a new house, a new car, stuff she couldn’t afford to do before.

The math does itself.

It’s fucking true crime textbook, and it’s right in front of his eyes.

Akio’s jaw is working, and his eyes are glimmering again. He looks at Ben, and he looks weirdly lost and young, and Ben reaches out without thinking and grabs onto his hand. Akio grips on tight. His hand is warm, almost too warm, but also it’s the perfect amount of warm. “Do you think-... do you think she-”

Ben thinks about Jamey, scared and alone. He thinks about Jamey - and Tristan, the two of them mixing together in his mind - being dragged away, to be lost and overwritten, because no one was there to stop it.

Because someone did it on purpose.

Because no one stopped it.

“I think maybe she was lying to you because she didn’t want you to take Tristan,” Ben says, softly. “I think maybe she wanted to-... make money on him.”

Akio chokes, and leans forward, and Ben holds his hand as tightly as he can, feeling the other man’s fingers tremble in his grip. “I can't-... I can't even begin to deal with that, I just… So h-how did he end up in college? Pets don’t-... go to school, they’re not capable… are they?"

"Um. It depends, apparently?" Ben doesn’t know how much of this is something Chris would ever allow him to share. But Akio’s eyes raise, and catch his again, and Ben smiles, just a little, in an attempt to comfort. “He was rescued,” He says, softly. “I don’t know how, or when. He’d have to tell you that himself. But he’s, um. He’s just Chris now.”

“He’s just Chris, now.” Akio groans resting his head on his hand. “But not Tristan. So he really is dead, his body’s still just-.. walking around.”

“No,” Ben says, and leans in, getting Akio to look at him again. “He’s not gone. Not, like, the core of him, I think. We knew him as soon as we saw him on your video. We knew the smile, and how he moves, all of it. Everybody in the room knew him as soon as we saw him smile at you. He’s still there, he’s still him. I promise.”

“I knew it was him on your stuff as soon as I saw him dancing,” Akio says, brokenly. “H-he always did get obsessed with those fuh-fucking musicals and we used to make up routines to th-them-” His head drops, shoulders shaking, and Ben puts his other hand on Akio’s shoulder, moves around the edge of the little circular table, so he can put an arm around him. 

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Akio says, muffled. “It’s not okay. We should have saved him, w-we didn’t know, we didn’t know she would… he probably th-thought we didn’t care... the social worker said it was fine, we’re not re-relatives, we didn’t know he wasn’t dead, we didn’t know he wasn’t gone, I thought I l-lost him and he probably thinks I didn’t even give a fuck-”

“I’m sure he never thought that,” Ben says, softly, and Akio’s hair brushes a little against the side of his face and he tries not to think too hard about how nice that feels, this is not the time or place, Benjamin, stop thinking about his hair stop it stop it stop it.

“We thought... “

“I know. But… you found him, now. He’s found.”

Akio sniffs back tears, mumbling, “Can I see him?”

Ben hesitates. “He needs-... he might need some time.”

Akio nods without looking up, but he leans a little on Ben. “I’m sorry, I’m being a fucking moron about this, making you comfort me and you don’t even know me, but I just-... missed him, and mourned him, and we go to see is parents wh-where they’re buried every year on the day that his aunt said he-... Is he h-happy? Now?”

Ben closes his eyes. That’s what I’d want to know, isn’t it, if it was Jamey. Is he happy now? Does his new family sign, do they know how to calm him down when it’s too much, do they know, do they care, if I’m not there does someone love him as much as we did?

I’d claw my way out of the fucking grave to make sure someone loves Jamey as much as he deserves.

“He’s happy,” Ben says, softly. “He was adopted by the guy who saved him, I think. There’s a whole lot I don’t know, you know, it’s not really my-... my story to, um, to tell. I just know some of it. He’s, um, he’s with someone, and… he’s… he’s happy.”

“Good. I just-... I want to see him.”

“I know. I’ll ask. But his partner... I’m friends with them, and they, um, he’s n-not... not okay right now, so...”

“I can wait.” Akio looks at him, intense, intent, eyes so dark Ben could fall in. “I’ve waited this long, I can-... I can wait a little longer, I just... I just want to see him, when he can see me.”

The bell over the door chimes again, and the two of them turn and look to see a woman who could not be more obviously Akio’s mother entering, looking at them, her eyebrows furrowed in immediate worry when she sees the tears on Akio’s face. “Aki?”

“It’s him, Mom,” Akio says, and she moves to him as if drawn, and Ben fights himself to pull back and away, to watch mother and son. Tristan had this, and lost it, but Chris has it, too. Life, interrupted at the second act, begun again with new actors around the main character. “It’s definitely-... it’s Tristan. But, she-... I have to tell you what happened to him. He, they-they made him a, um, a pet-”

She hitches in a breath, pulls a chair with a loud scrape from another table, and sits, looking Ben over, expression serious. “Tell me,” She says, softly, but fiercely. 

“It’s, um, it’s a lot…”

“I’ve got time.” Ben is reminded of his own mother, in the simple steel flashing under her perfectly styled hair and carefully done makeup. Her eyes are red around the edges, too. She lays a cool, dry hand over Ben’s, and her dark eyes bore into him with focused intensity. “Tell me what happened to our Tris. I want to know what happened to-... I want to know what I didn’t stop.”

Akio looks sidelong at his mother, putting an arm around her, and he’s shorter than his mom but she seems to sag against him, and he can see how Akio takes after his mom, with the same wide mouth that normally seems always on the verge of a smile, the same dark eyes flashing with anger and guilt. “M-Mom, you couldn’t have known, we couldn’t do anything-”

“I could have gone to that woman’s… house, or wherever she was, and taken Tristan right out the door, and I didn’t,” Aimi says, and her voice doesn’t shake, but her face is bright red and her eyes are overbright and glittering. “I could have called lawyers, or the cops, I could have tried to fight for him and I didn’t. Ronnie deserved-” Her voice catches and her hand is over her mouth. Ben watches her eyes well up, her struggle to calm herself, throat working as she swallows and leans into her son’s embrace. “Ronnie… would have wanted someone to fight for him. I want to know what happened because I did the normal thing and not the right thing, because I didn’t let myself see it. I want to know what exactly it is that I didn’t stop when I had the chance.”

Ben sits back, takes a breath. 

“He, um. His name is… Chris now,” Ben starts, slowly. “Christopher Stanton. He’s, um, he’s a sophomore in college, and… he was a human pet, for a while. We don’t know how long, nobody knows for sure, or who had him. I mean, I guess he knows and I think his brother knows, but h-he, won’t… won’t tell anyone who it was.”

Aimi’s whole body shudders, but her face doesn’t change, and her eyes don’t leave Ben’s. “H-how-”

Akio licks at his lips, and hesitantly says, “Ben thinks maybe that aunt they sent him to sold him. She works for WRU.”

Aimi’s eyes slowly close, and her breathing is slow but trembling. The two young men watch her. Akio’s knee bumps his under the table, and he doesn’t think about that, either, except it’s all he’s going to think about for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Aimi says, after a long pause, and her eyes open again. A kind of perfect calm settles itself across the pain in her expression. 

Ben thinks that this woman is probably fucking terrifying if it’s you she’s angry with and not herself. 

“Mom, if we need to stop, that’s okay-”

“We don’t. Ben-... that’s your name? Ben?”

“Uh, yeah… Benjamin Prentiss, but-... call me Ben.” 

Prentiss, Akio mouths to himself, and Ben hopes, in another weird moment, that Akio likes his last name. 

“Got it.” Aimi leans forward, smacks the table with one hand. Ben flinches. Her jaw sets. She’s definitely terrifying. Like his own mother when they tried to kick Jamey out of school, this is a woman who could stare down the sun itself unblinking and walk away undamaged, if the sun was a threat to her children. “Ben?”

“Yes, um, Mrs. Nakamura?”

“Keep talking. Tell me everything about Tristan-”

“Chris.” He clears his throat. “He’s, um, his name is Chris.”

“... tell me everything about Chris.”

--

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker  , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript

[writhingcreature]

Character ask game, sweet pea!

Sorry this took me so long I got emotionally wiped out from the one I did for Bobby and the reactions I got from it and was hesitant to do more. I had to for my main baby though so here is this, based off of this post

1. Favorite thing about them

Okay I have to say, his willingness to get fucking GOING is my single most favorite thing about this boy. Like Jughead may be able to stop him, but that's only because he lowkey is in love with Jughead. You can't convince me otherwise. This boy will bulldoze anyone else, and even goes toe to toe with Archie without hesitation. The best part is: he's so ready to fight not because he's proud or arrogant or any of those usual "hot headed teenage boy" traits but because he's protective of his friends and family. His people. Because he refuses to be walked on anymore, or let anyone he cares about be walked on. He makes me feel so safe ugh.

2. Least favorite thing about them

How stubborn he is. I will never say he's a proud person, but he does have a pride streak and I think it really hurts him when he needs to admit he's wrong. He's just very slow to change his mind once he makes up his mind, and while it's probably a defensive thing when it comes to Northsiders and one that has been proven to be necessary several times, it always breaks my heart when he makes fun of Betty or talks about flaying Archie or smirks as Jughead squirms or Veronica blows a gasket. Sometimes it's kind of funny but most of the time I wish he could just get along with people and make friends lmao

3. Favorite line

“You think you can come to my house, stick a gun in my face, in front of my boys, and there wouldn’t be any payback?” This line is everything actually and it is NOT talked about enough oh my god fuuuuuuck season 2 canon Archie. Smh. I felt this on such a deep level

4. BroTP

I know everyone ships Swangs and I love it too, but I honestly much prefer them as a brother dynamic. I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers and ship Sweetpea with happiness as much as the next person but I just really love these two as a sibling dyanmic duo. I have an oc named Talon who's Fangs' older brother and I have a LOT of hc's about how Talon has just. Adopted Sweetpea and how they talk about everything... god yeah I love them.

5. NoTP

Toni and Sweetpea. I don't know if this is one of those popular rarepairs or not but Toni needs herself a girlfriend. Like yes she's bi but also Sweetpea with a boyfriend makes my heart swell and Toni's stated she prefers girls, so I just prefer ships that include mlm rep for Sweets and Toni with a gf. I don't hate the ship it's just not my cup of tea

6. OTP

Okay at this point I think it's pretty clear that I'm a multishipper because I just want my kiddos to be happy lmao but here goes. When it comes to ULTIMATE loves, Jugpea hands down. I am also a mess for Reggie/Jughead/Sweetpea. Oh my god I am obsessed with them. I ship Sweetpea with just about anyone as long as it's done correctly (catch me reading Swarchie and Swosie despite hating those ships a month ago lmao) but these are my main and the ones I obsess over while watching the show.

7. Unpopular opinion

Huh I don't know. I guess I think that Archie is more scary and unhinged than Sweetpea is which I think might not be a popular take. I feel like any other hc I have most Sweetpea fans would agree with so I'll just leave that there.

8. Random headcanon

Sweetpea gives me middle child energy no I cannot explain this it will take two million years to get through all of it I will say I think he has two older sisters and also a younger one. Yes they're all girls, yes one is trans, yes I have names and hc's for all of them and they're all oc's because I am obsessed with the Serpents' families. Sweetpea's older sisters are about a year or two of a gap, but his youngest sister is like five when he's sixteen and you can't convince me otherwise. He babysits her constantly and they are best friends. He will literally ask to babysit her and send his mom to go have a day off from responsibilities. She literally just gets Pop and reads in a booth because there is nothing she wants to do badly enough to keep herself busy every time he wants to babysit his little girl lmao. He is a MUSHBALL with her and anyone who watches them interact is in actual tears. She steals his phone constantly and takes pictures and videos on it and sends them to Toni and Fangs who are in tears over how adorable is. Jughead hangs out once when Sweets is babysitting and never looks at Sweetpea the same after. This man is a PUDDLE for this little girl that is all.

9. Song I associate them with

I have a whole playlist hold on time to shuffle again LMAO: "

10. Favorite picture of them

These are both technically Jordan but like. Listen I am obsessed with the non gelled hair look and I can’t find a good one in character so you get these instead because I am OBSESSED with these imagine lmao.

[i-know-you-can]

first line tag

rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some people to take part.

I haven’t been specifically tagged by anyone (hey, does anyone remember that I occasionally write? I sure seem to forget) but this sounds like a fun way to revisit my stories and I do like that. Also I see some people using the ‘first line’ as more than a sentence or an actual line of text so I’m doing that as well. Sue me.

1. When Betty first pointed out the costume to him at the store, he couldn’t be more vehement.“No, no way! Our daughter is too cute to be dressed as a vegetable,” he protested. 

- The story of us (Halloween)

2.  Anyone who has ever met Jughead Jones for longer than ten minutes knows about his voracious appetite and endless love for food. It’s no surprise then, that when his firstborn daughter finally gets old enough to try anything more than milk, Jughead’s excitement is through the roof.

- The story of us (Baby food)

3.  “Are you sure you guys are gonna be fine on your own? I can just tell Veronica to reschedule. Or maybe we can stay in. I’m sure she could bring the whole spa over here if she wanted.”

- The story of us (It takes a village)

4.  Betty never expected working for the New York Times to be a walk in the park. After all, it took her years to even get an interview there, let alone to get hired. It certainly wasn't a job for quitters. Thankfully for her, Betty Jones was no quitter.

- The magic of the pillow fort

5.  “Kevin! What do you mean you can't help me organize the Christmas market? It's less than two weeks away. You can't ditch me now!” Betty feels panic raise in her chest. This is the first year she’s been put in charge of the annual Riverdale Elementary Christmas market after Mrs. White, who’d been organizing it for the past twenty years, retired a couple of months earlier. For all her careful planning though, she’s found herself behind schedule.

- What a bright time (it’s the right time)

6. “Honey, I'm home!” Veronica announces the moment she walks through the door, flipping her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

“Ronnie, you're back!” Betty exclaims, rushing toward her best friend and roommate and then they're hugging and squealing like teenage girls.

- Just between you and me

7.  Betty Cooper has never been a huge fan of change. She liked routine; waking up at the same time every day, drinking a cup of herbal tea before bed, going to Pop’s with her boyfriend and best friends after football games. But sometimes routine could get a little boring and Betty didn't want to be boring.

- A little vulnerable today

8.  "And this is the last one," Jughead says triumphantly as he sets a cardboard box on the breakfast bar and wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. The floor of the shared kitchen and living room area is covered with boxes of various sizes, all waiting to be unpacked. He doesn't remember having this much stuff when they were moving into their college apartment with Archie and Veronica, but back then they had two extra sets of hands to help them. For some reason, today all of their friends seemed to be busy so that left him and Betty to carry everything into their new Brooklyn apartment.

- Domesticity

9.  Betty rushes into the shared office of Clickfeed ten minutes after nine, pieces of hair falling from her usually slick ponytail. She has only been working there for about six months, but she has never been late. Betty Cooper is not the kind of person to be late for work. But this morning her alarm didn’t go off and ever since then her day has been a mess. She didn’t have time for her usual morning workout, nor a proper breakfast and since she was late, she didn’t even have time to stop for coffee on her way to work like she usually does.

- Love to hate you

10. “Juggie, I’m home!” Betty exclaims as she stumbles through the front door, holding her shoes high above her head, a wide smile on her face.

“Woah, you’re shitfaced.” Jughead laughs and rushes forward to catch her as she stumbles again in her attempt to pull of her jacket. While Betty is not a drinker, Jughead expected Veronica’s bachelorette party to end something like this, so he decided to stay up and do some writing while waiting for Betty to get home. As it seems, it was a good decision.

- You’re the devil, Betts

11.  Betty stirs from her sleep as she hears the sound of keys in the front door. She quickly glances at her phone and the time reads a little past 2am. Almost four hours since Jughead stormed out of the apartment after their fight. She decided to wait for him to come back, hoping it would only take a few minutes of fresh air to cool off his sudden outburst. But sometime between then and now she must’ve fallen asleep on the couch.

- You know what’s best for me

+ bonus of a yet unpublished fic

“Mom? What’s going on? Did something happen?” Betty asks as she picks up her phone, panic lacing her voice.

“No reason to be alarmed, Elizabeth,” Alice says and Betty can practically hear her mother rolling her eyes. “Can’t I just call my daughter more than once a month?”

Is there a pattern? I see a lot of love of dialogue, which I’m well aware of.