#i can't believe i didn't know about chicago

[lilbitdepressed27]

Alcina Dimitrescu/Fem!Reader

Summary: One where it's a zombie apocalypse you get separated from your wife and daughters.

Warnings: none I think

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: probably gonna write more for the beautiful tall lady again. A little bit of The last of us in here. Sorry for any mistakes :)

"Draga come back to bed." Your wife mumbled sleepily as you leaned down to kiss her on the head.

"Sorry baby. My sergeant called said it's an emergency. Something about a riot downtown. They need all hands on deck." At the mention of you being in potential danger your wife was wide awake. She sat up, seeing that you were already dressed up and ready to go in your police officer uniform. You had a apologetic smile as you looked down at her. It was supposed to be your day off. But in a situation like this. Every officer was called in.

"Be careful. Please call me when you get a chance. Even if it's a simple text." You could see the worry in her eyes.

"Of course I will. I love you and I'll be back before you know it. It's probably some of those dumb 'alpha males' at it again." You joked and leaned down kissing her on the lips.

"I love you too." She had gotten up to walk you out. Her sleep long forgotten. You had gently kissed your daughters on the head as they slept before leaving.

Alcina had watched you drive off with a knot in her throat. She had always hated when you were called away like this. She knew it was serious. If it weren't you wouldn't have been called. She had always worried about you when it came to your job.

She worked as a lawyer. She knew you didn't have to worry as much as she did. Did you worry? Of course you did. But just not on Alcina's level.

She walked back into the house after your truck was no longer in her eye sight.

*

"On news 10 today the riots have been growing down in the Los Angeles area. Riots have grown in other cities as well. San Francisco, San Diego, New York City, Chicago, Phoenix AZ, Philadelphia, Dallas TX, San Jose CA, Sacramento CA, Miami FL. We have not figured out the reason behind these riots but the state of California and local authorities are strongly advising to stay in your homes for your own safety, if you live in these areas."

Alcina had just turned on the tv after she had taken a shower seeing that it was no point trying to go back to sleep.

"Mom where's mama?" At the sound of her youngest daughter entering the living room she looked away from the tv to the red head. The ten year old was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"She was called into work sweetheart. Come here."

Daniela flopped on to her mother, cuddling up to the taller woman.

"But I thought it was her day off?"

"I know sweetie but there was something her sergeant had to talk to her about." Alcina held her daughter close to her as she looked back to the news reporter.

"We are going live to the riots in downtown Los Angeles with Maria Ascott. To you Maria."

"Thank you Jill. The riots here have made a turn for the worst. We had to get off the streets due to how violent the people were getting. LAPD have stopped using rubber bullets and gone straight to lethal force. Thing is that some of the people have become completely vicious. They are biting officers and even other people in the crowd. I can't believe what I'm seeing. They just won't stay dow-" The camera had turned at a loud explosion and more shooting.

"Mom? Is mama okay?"

Alcina wanted to be honest but she didn't know. Before she could make a move to call you. Her phone rang, a picture of you smiling at the camera lit up the phone. She quickly picked up the phone not even letting the phone ring for a second time.

"Draga are you okay?" She stood up from the couch, her concern growing as she heard the shouts and shooting from your side of the phone. She had put the phone on speaker phone when Daniela motioned her to put it on.

"Yes I'm fine Alci. I need you listen to me. Get the girls and the guns from my safe. Pack what ever we could need. Be quick. We need to get out of the city. Now. There's no time to explain. Get the girls. Now Alcina. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes." The line cut off before Alcina could respond.

"Daniela get you sisters and tell them to pack what ever we could need. Now darling."

They both moved quick around the house. Packing a bag of clothes with toiletries. Bela and Cassandra didn't know what was going on but did as what their mother said. Seeing how serious her mother and younger sister were being.

Alcina moved quickly packing her own bag and yours. With anything they'd need. She moved to pack a big duffel bag from your gun safe. You always had been one to have guns. It was something Alcina had hated cause of the kids but you had put them in a safe. Where only you and herself could access them. From hand guns to rifles and shotguns. She didn't know what to pack. But from what she saw on the news. She new it was serious. So she packed as much as she could with ammunition and guns. Leaving the gun safe empty.

"Babe!? Girls!?"

"Draga.." Alcina words got stuck in her mouth when she saw you uniform torn and and with blood. She cupped your cheeks as she looked you over.

"I'm okay but we have to go. We'll go to the family cabin. It's secluded enough. Donna and Angie are on their way there. Karl is there already with your mother and brother. Come on."

"Mama what's going on." Bela asked once Cassandra and herself put all their bags in the Escalade.

"I'll explain everything on the way to our cabin. Come on."

The family moved rapidly, leaving their home. Not knowing that It'd be last time they saw it as a whole.

*

You were one to always follow the rules. Seeing as you were a cop after all. You took pride in doing what you did. Putting bad guys behind bars. Helping your wife and her law firm putting bad people bad guys away for a long time. But you were also used to speeding down the streets. Running stop lights and stop signs. What you were not used to was having your family in the same car as you did those things. You knew the risks of driving fast down the roads. Anything could happen. But you knew. You knew that you had to get your family out of the city. After seeing the things you saw. It wasn't safe. You weren't even sure if the cabin was safe.

"Y/n tell me what's going on. Is this cause of that sickness going around?" Your wife spoke for the first time since getting in the car. She had been too distracted by the chaos happening outside of the vehicle.

"It's not just a sickness. Sergeant had a friend in the cdc, it's some type of virus, the scientist used the word fungus. A fungus that only effected ants-Cordyceps we learned about in school. You gotta be joking? How come it wasn't on the news?" Your daughter Cassandra spoke from the middle seat.

"The cdc tried to control it in Seattle. The government had locked down Seattle in a matter of minutes when the first signs of infection were shown in Seattle's Lake Hill hospital. It spread faster than they had hoped. Before they knew it had spread all through out Seattle. They couldn't contain it. They still don't know how it spread all through out the United States." You swerved out of the way of the two collided cars. Using the sidewalk to escape the lines of cars. Refusing to take your eyes off the road. You knew there were going to be road blocks put by the military. It was why you chose the back roads. The cabin was a good two days away. But with this amount of traffic it would probably take longer.

You thanked everything in you for getting the four wheel drive and for not living too in the city. So going off road was the best option you had.

"Mom?"

"We can't be seen by the military. Their orders are shoot to kill." It was why you hoping to avoid the road blocks and roads in general.

*

You were only a good day away from the cabin. It had been in the middle of the night the dirt road empty when a trucks lights suddenly turned on, catching you by surprise and blinding you momentarily. You had no time to react, the truck rammed into your side of the car pushing the truck forcefully towards the ledge. The force had caused you to hit the side of your head against the window. The screams of your girls had been muffled as the truck tipped and rolled down the slope.

Your ears ringed as you checked on alcina and the girls. The voices stilled muffled as you tried to ignore the pain of your side. You had to gather yourself and get your family away from who ever was driving that truck.

"Alcina come on get up. Girls?"

"We're okay mama."

"Mama you're bleeding." Cassandra's voice filled with concern, finally sounded clear.

"I'm okay baby. We go get out of the truck. Use the truck as cover. Do not peak from the sides. Bela get my gun bag, Dani baby get the bag with the med-kits and supplies we could need." You gently shook Alcina. Desperately trying to wake her up. The sound of her gasp, was only a moment of relief as you head a distant noise of shouting.

"Come on baby, are you okay?" You used your knife to cut her seat belt catching her before she could hit the ground.

"Oh draga, you're bleeding. Are the girls okay?"

"They're fine. Come on we have to go." You helped your family out of the vehicle, noticing the gas leaking from the tank. The sounds of shouting we're getting closer. You checked over Alcina seeing that she was okay other than scratches on her.

"Alcina listen to me. I'll draw them away from-No. We have to stick together." Alcina was quick to shut down the idea. But she saw the look in your eyes. Her eyes filled with tears as she heard the sounds of voices only getting closer.

You sighed, taking the gun you had trained her with. Making sure it was loaded. The girls had trained with you as well, they knew how to handle a gun. They knew gun safety. You handed the gun to Alcina. "You have to go, keep our girls safe. I'll see you soon. There's no time for arguments. You know as much as I do those people aren't going to think twice when they see us. I'll lead them away from you and our girls. And catch to you when it's safe. Now go."

The girls protested as well. But Alcina knew you were right. With tears in her eyes she took a step back as you pushed her towards the opposite direction. "Y/n."

"Do not stop till you get to the cabin. Do not hesitate when you pull that trigger." Your voice was strong but yet she heard how it wobbled. You kissed the girls head.

"Go, now."

As the shots you fired had the men stumbling for cover as your family disappeared into the dark woods. You stepped away from the truck as far as you could as the men grew closer shooting their own guns in your direction. Completely missing the four getting away. As they grew closer you shot your gun in the direction of the gas leaking the force of the explosion throwing you back against the tree. Rendering you unconscious.

*

(20 Years Later)

Alcina looked back at the little town. The walls they've built were slowly spreading. Slowly growing, all the town needed know was some electricity if they could ever get the damn power plant to work again. As she looked back down at the planes she had scattered in front of her, her wondered. After all these years her mind went back to that day.

How much she regretted leaving you. How her heart screamed at her to go back when she heard the explosion. But she pushed on. With the hope that you would be right behind them.

Her hopes had come crashing down when the day passed and they arrived at the cabin. Her family was there but you had not arrived. The girls cried as they waited for you but you never came. The day passed and she went back. Karl going with her. The burned bodies were fresh there had been a few a total of six. All too burned to be recognizable. But then she saw the gun. Your hand gun she knew it was yours. She picked up the gun seeing the familiar serial numbers. The gun was not far from the burnt body.

"Mom, we have some scouters out west saying something about a storm coming. We have to reinforce the wall on the west side just in case some infected wonder from the west." The voice of her eldest daughter brought her back to the present.

"It's already in order Bela. Have you had any updates on your sister?" Her eldest had grown into a being a strong and smart woman.

"Yes, Daniella and uncle Karl are making sure that the men working on the power plant are protected from the raiders and infected." Bela stood straight paying close attention to her mother. Ever since that day she knew her mother had not been the same. She her mother had tried to be strong for her and her sisters. But she saw the sadness in her mother. The sadness that refused to leave. She herself longed to see her mama again but it had been ten years now.

You were gone.

Died trying to keep them safe.

*

After all these years, you still looked for your family. The anger you had for yourself had been so immense. You remember that day like it had been yesterday. The errors of it all keeping you up at night. After you knocked out that day. You had woken up in cell room along with some others. It clearly didn't take long for humanity to fall. Those men weren't military just a gang looking for victims.

It had taken you and few others too long to break out of that camp. By the time you did it had been two months since you last saw your family. You remember the urgency to get to the cabin. It had taken you two days to get the cabin seeing that the FEDRA was only growing. You had to sneak, not risking being seen and shot.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw once you did arrive at the cabin.

The cabin empty, destroyed half of the cabin had clearly caught fire. No signs of life, you had almost given up then and there. If it weren't for the fact that Karl's over the top survival truck was missing. It was a truck that he had always kept on the property grounds. He had been a clear lunatic when it came to preparing for the apocalypse.

That truck was set to only function on one set of keys. No hot wiring or anything could start that truck.

But that had been ten years ago. Ten years of searching for your family. You didn't know where to look. They could be dead for all you know, but knowing Karl, he always had a plan for this type of things. You just hoped that he kept your family safe.

"Y/n? You okay?"

Your attention was brought back to the kid standing next to you. You weren't sure where the two of you were headed. You had found this kid roaming not far from the outside of the walls. And well you had finally gotten the chance to sneak out of the said walls controlled by FEDRA. From there you just took her under your wing. Refusing to leave a fourteen year old to wonder by herself. Especially since the fourteen year old reminded you so much of your youngest.

You had an idea on where to go, a rumor of a town that was safe and secure. There were a few places you could check out.

"Yeah I'm okay kiddo, come on Wyoming isn't that far." You had been on the road for a year now, you had to find a safe place, winter had just passed and it was a strong and cold one. It had been brutal, the injury on your side still ached. But what ached more was what Ellie went through. Those crazy fucking cannibals and that fucking pe-You felt guilty for getting hurt, for making the young girl take on the burden of having to take care of you.

"Can you tell me about your family, what were they like?"

You couldn't help the smile and slight relief that she was talking again. "Oh just know you'd get along with my daughters. Cassandra my middle child she's just as much of a smart ass as you. My youngest Dani god, she's just as much of a jokester. And eldest Bela, well she's much more like her mother. Smart, patient, kind, she was- she'e twenty know. All of them twenty." You were quick to wipe the tear away.

"Alcina my wife, well I met her when we were both in elementary school. Man I fell in love with her the moment she walked into Ms.Luthor's second grade glass. Although I didn't know what I felt in that moment. I was her first friend and we stuck together like glue from then on. We didn't start dating till junior year. Want to see a picture?"

The excitement in those green eyes was hard to miss. You dug into your backpack taking out the journal that had a ziploc bag. Inside the bag was a picture of your family.

"Damn, that's your wife and kids, man they got all their looks from your wife huh." Ellie joked a snort and gentle shove was what she got in return.

The laugh escaping your lips, she had a point. "Shut up, now how about we cut through that power plant. It looks abandoned." Ellie laughed as she followed you down the path way that was now covered with over grown grass.

Ellie asked after a moment of silence as you both moved across the river leading to the power plant. "Do you really think that we'll find a place to call home?"

"I have hope. Just gotta believe kiddo. Let's go through here." You moved to pull on the large door, for it now to move. You pulled harder on it until you heard a familiar click. Reaching quickly for your side gun.

"Stop! Tell the girl to drop it as well."

At the sound of a deep voice you looked up to see quite a few guns pointing down at you and Ellie.

You stepped back knowing you had no other choice. "Ellie do as the lady says." Moving a bit closer to stand in front of Ellie, your hands still raised up. Hoping that they wouldn't shoot you. "We didn't know the place was occupied. We're just trying to get through, we want no trouble."

It was a tense moment of silence.

"They're alright."

"You know them?"

The sound of the big door sliding open. "I know her. She's my god damn sister in law."

The gate opened, and your eyes widen at the sight of Daniella and Karl. But your eyes couldn't tear themselves from your youngest daughter who was now a grown woman. Her baby features long gone.

"Mama?" Her voice was the same but yet so different.

"Dani."

The force of her hug had almost taken you down. Her cry as she hugged you tightly, you hugged her just as tightly. You couldn't believe that Daniela, your youngest daughter was back in your arms. After so many years of thinking that you'd never see her again had finally come to an end.

"Mama we thought you were dead. We went back. Mom went back to check with uncle Karl. We should have never left you mama. I'm so sorry. We looked for you, everywhere. We never stopped. I'm sorry—Daniela stop. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Just��" the sound of gunshots cut you off, your actions were quick. A whole lot faster than Daniela had been prepared for. You had taken her and Ellie to cover. Your own gun out and already shooting.

"Mama I can help."

You knew she could, you had taken her to cover without really realizing. "Sorry Dani force of habit. Ellie stay down okay kiddo."

The place lit up with more gun fire, all you could think about was keeping your girls safe and the need to see your two eldest and wife again.

*

"Mom raiders attacked the power plant again. There's some dead and a few injured. Uncle Karl and Dani radioed in, they're fine. Heading back as we speak." Cassandra spoke so fast Alcina didn't even have a second to panic. She was quick to get on her feet. Heading straight towards the gate. Cassandra and Bela right behind her.

By the time they made it to the gate, the gates were opening and in came in some of the power plant workers. Some caring the injured and others limping into the town. Her eyes searched the group looking for her idiot brother and her daughter.

Fear gripping her heart when she didn't see her youngest daughter at the end of the final people coming in.

"We would have been dead if it weren't for that woman."

"Oh man she was a one shot kill. Don't want to get on her bad side."

"She seemed to know Daniela and Karl."

She over heard some of the power plant workers say as they walked by. It wasn't till she saw Karl walk through the gate talking with a short auburn haired girl. Her hands were moving all over the place as she explained something. Karl for once had a gentle smile on his face as he listened. Relief washed over her body when she saw her little girl, her steps faltering when her eyes landed on who was standing next to Daniela.

You.

Her wife.

The wife she had thought she lost.

The wife she mourned to this day.

Was alive. Obviously looking a bit older but yet still as beautiful as the last time she saw you.

"Mama?!" The two older sister yelled in surprise, but their voice wobbling as they chocked back a sob. Her two eldest daughters ran towards their other mother who looked at them with so much love and guilt. Yet you hugged them tightly. Her eyes finding yours was what finally got her legs moving in such a pace that she couldn't remember doing. The feeling she had in her chest at seeing you once again. The love she had for you had never faltered. It never went away. If anything the love she had for her wife had only grown. There was no one she loved as deeply as you.

"Draga,"

It was the voice that you had dreamed of hearing. Your girls, your grown daughters pulled away. Watery smiles as they watched their parents reunite.

Hugging the slightly taller woman. To have her back in your arms as her shoulders shook from the barely concealed sobs. To have her hugging you just as tightly. She lightly pulled away cupping your cheeks in her hands. "Oh my love—"

The kiss had been one they both thought they'd never have. For it was the thought they both had feared and refused to accept. But now they both flourished to be in each other's again. To have their family reunited once again. To have the love they both shared still growing.

To be together once again as the apocalypse continued.

:)

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[earlgreytea68]

LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANT SO MUCH FOR (TOUR) DUST SPOILERS, OKAY?

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Set list:

(1) That Pink Seashell spoken word thing actually opens the show

(2) Love from the Other Side: I assumed they'd play this first, and they did, and they looked very happy with the reception that it got

(3) The Phoenix

(4) Sugar, We're Goin Down: I overheard two guys when I was leaving saying, "I only came to this show for that Sugar song, and it was the third song they played," whatever to those two guys lol

(5) Uma Thurman

(6) A Litttle Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me

(7) Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: I know they always play this song when they play Chicago but the way the show is set up, there's this spoken intro that references a light being left on in Chicago, and then they launch into this song, and so I feel like maybe it's permanently in the set list for this tour, we'll see.

(8) Grand Theft Autumn: Patrick told the story again of how he wrote the lyrics while jogging with Pete. Here is exactly what he said, because I recorded it, hahaha: "I wrote this song out here, jogging, trying to figure out the words. This was back when I wrote a lot of the words. And Pete was jogging with me and he was like, 'Eh, maybe change this, maybe change this.' Before we knew it he was writing all the lyrics." And then Pete said, "Imagine us jogging" lolololol

(9) Calm Before the Storm

(10) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race: They added a little Peterick-y moment in here? I don't remember them playing at each other during this song in previous performances? It was cute, it was during the instrumental part before Patrick leads the singalong, maybe I've just always missed it? They played it each other and kind of did some kind of kick thing with their legs??

(11) Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes: Honestly, always a delight to hear this song, this is one of my favorites <3

(12) Heaven, Iowa: THIS SONG LIVE, I SWEAR

(13) "The Take Over, the Breaks Over": OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG AND I TOTALLY DIDN'T EXPECT THEM TO PLAY IT, I WAS SO HAPPY

(14) Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet: <3 Guess they got over being scared of playing this one lol

(15) Fake Out: I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I WAS THAT THEY PLAYED THIS ONE OMGGGGGGG. Also, there was some plan I wasn't aware of to, like, hold up cell phones with pink paper over the lights so the crowd lit up pink???? I have no idea who engineered that but it was CHARMING and at the end of the song Pete said, "Thanks for that, guys, that was beautiful," and the stage was on darkness so it seemed absolutely spontaneous on his part and I think they really did like the effect, so, Idk, future shows, keep doing it????

(16) Patrick did some kind of piano interlude where he played "Don't Stop Believin'"????? It was random but he was super charming, I think the rest of the band used it as a break, it was just SO GREAT. Part of his intro was: "Pete was putting together this show and he said to me, 'Hey, you should play piano.' And I was like, 'I kinda only play songs I wrote. I don't really play piano. I don't know how to play piano.' And he's like, 'Eh, you'll figure it out.'" And then Patrick sat down and played gorgeous piano ugh THANKS, PETE.

(17) Last of the Real Ones: I am glad Mania got some love.

(18) Save Rock and Roll

(19) PETE RECITED BABY ANNIHILATION WHAT. I SWEAR TO GOD. I SO DID NOT EXPECT THIS AND I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THAT IT HAPPENED. If you're going to the show, pay attention, because I looked away and apparently there's, like, a magic trick at the end of the monologue where he disappears behind a piece of black silk?????

(20) Crazy Train cover: I...don't know what to say about this randomness hahaha but it happened??

(21) Dance Dance

(22) Hold Me Like a Grudge: I think Patrick adores singing this song, I really do.

(23) G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: I KNOW. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, EITHER.

(24) My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)

(25) Thnks fr th Mmrs

(26) Centuries

(27) Saturday <3

The show ends with a little piano version of So Much (for) Stardust played over the sound system, so pay attention for that.

The set is super Alice in Wonderland-y and I adored it, it's playful and fantastical and has all these whimsical touches and interludes and I just thought it was delightful and at one point there were bubbles, and I heard some people complaining after the concert that the fantasy thing didn't suit their style of music and really, I was surrounded by downers after the concert, I thought they were perfect hahaha. Like, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. They looked so, so, so tangibly happy, all of them. Patrick sounded fantastic and he looked like he was having a blast, he smiled the whole time.

I have a lot of videos but they seem like they're all pretty terrible, but I'll see how I feel in the morning lol

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: wrong number au, Eddie texts Gareth something personal but puts in 1 wrong number & ends up texting Steve. The two of them hit it off & start chatting & then when they meet IRL they are completely head over heels in love & its cute as fuck

MY LOVE MY LOVE MY LOVE!!! LOVE A GOOD WRONG NUMBER AU!!! I can't believe I've never written it before now. I also had to actually include Gareth because I am actually obsessed with him lately, and I just think it's really neat that we can make these characters our own. This was such a fun and cute request! I didn't do the inappropriate route because I thought this was hilarious so sorry about that. I made up for it with something else! - Mickala ❤️

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

GARE BEAR! You won’t believe it but i dropped my phone in a sewer. Lost everything.

He had never been so happy about having his closest friends’ numbers memorized. His phone was somewhere under the streets of Chicago, floating through dirty water and sewage, dying a slow and painful death.

He texted everyone else one at a time, let them know he had a new number and to completely delete the old one because it would never be recovered.

They were used to things like this happening; He lost his phone annually at this point and it was cheaper just to get a new number than transfer everything to a new one.

He went to dial Wayne, the old school part of him insisting on phone calls instead of texts still, when Gareth’s name popped up with a new text.

Not sure who Gare Bear is, but sorry about your phone. That’s shitty.

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

did you mean to make a pun?

Did it make you laugh?

yes

Then yes.

Eddie sat down on a bench, entirely focused on his conversation with this stranger.

Did you find your Gare Bear yet?

Not yet but i think i’m pretty happy talking to you for now

Smooth, Eddie.

Admittedly, he was in a hell of a dry spell.

Going on almost two years, actually.

A little flirting with a stranger never hurt anybody, not when he clearly needed some practice.

Not sure if your Gare Bear would like it very much though

Wait, what?

Eddie stared at his phone, trying to comprehend what that could mean. Why would Gareth not want him talking to a stranger?

I hope you find your partner though!

Oh.

Oh!

Eddie hit the call button in the corner before he could even register what he was doing.

“Hello?”

Oh no, he sounded hot.

“Hi. So, Gareth is very much not my partner. He probably actually wishes I would really forget his number,” Eddie rushed out.

“Um. Okay?”

“He’s been my best friend for ten years and he thinks I’m a mess. Not a partner,” Eddie further clarified.

“Got it. Not a partner.”

“Yes, exactly.”

They stayed silent for a moment before Eddie coughed.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Steve. Sorry about your phone, seriously that sucks,” he sounded genuinely apologetic, like he personally threw Eddie’s phone in the sewer.

“Oh, no big deal. I lose my phone more often than I go out with someone,” Eddie said.

Why did he say that?

Steve let out a laugh and it was like music.

Eddie couldn’t help the smile taking over his face at his laugh, already knew he wasn’t gonna be able to let this guy go without learning more about him.

“So you’re, what? Celibate?” Steve asked.

“Far from it. Well, maybe not far from it. Temporarily, maybe. It’s been a while,” Eddie admitted.

“How long?” Steve asked, a loud bang coming from his end of the phone. “Sorry, I had to go outside for some privacy.”

Eddie wasn’t going to read into that. He wasn’t.

“Two years give or take. I mean I’m not counting shitty dates that ended before they got worse. So, yeah. Two years.”

“Been a year for me, but. Yeah, I get it. My last relationship didn’t end on the best terms. She decided I was too in love with her I guess,” Steve sighed, voice sounding pained.

She.

Steve was probably straight.

There was no way he’d be lucky enough for Steve to like men.

Or for Steve to like him.

“I can’t really imagine breaking up with someone because they loved me too much. I’m usually the one who falls too hard,” Eddie admitted.

“Yeah, well, same here,” Steve sounded sad, a bit withdrawn.

Eddie wanted to hear him laugh again.

“I doubt either of us have ever fallen as hard as my phone did down a drain,” Eddie said sadly.

Steve let out a loud laugh and Eddie smiled.

“This might sound crazy, but I’m kind of glad your phone decided to live in the sewers,” Steve said when he finally calmed down. “And maybe a little too happy that you typed your friend’s number wrong.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

Was this flirting? Was he successfully having a flirtatious conversation with a potentially very hot guy?

“So I can be bold and ask if you maybe wanted to meet up somewhere?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“So you’re in Chicago?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“For the last five years, yeah.”

“You busy tonight?”

Eddie’s heart stopped.

He was really going to meet up with a stranger just because he liked his laugh and hoped he was hot.

He’d done more with less.

“Yeah, actually. I’m getting dinner with this guy I accidentally texted,” Eddie smirked, looking down at his feet.

“Dinner? What a lucky guy. Where are you going?” Steve sounded amused.

“Well, it depends on what he likes. I’ve been craving some pierogies. Ever been to Staropolska?” Eddie asked.

Gareth’s family owned it, and he used to eat there two or three times a week while they were in college, usually working off his bill in the kitchen doing dishes after.

He hadn’t been in a couple months, work keeping him busy and his budget being pretty tight when he moved into a studio apartment by himself.

He had enough to treat himself tonight though.

“The one on Milwaukee? Yeah. One of my favorite places to get devolay,” Steve sounded surprised that he knew it.

“You won’t believe this, but the friend I was trying to text when I got you, his family owns that place.”

“No way! Then we have to. We owe it to the guy who has almost my exact phone number,” Steve responded.

“Meet you there at seven?” Eddie asked, suddenly more nervous.

“Seven sounds good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggled. Eddie fell in love.

“We should probably hang up.”

“Should we?” Eddie asked, not wanting to stop talking to him yet.

“Yes, I have to do my hair. Gotta impress the guy who drops his phone in the sewer and texts strangers about it.”

“He sounds like a loser. Don’t put too much effort in,” Eddie sighed. “But okay. See you at seven.”

“See you then.”

They both stayed on the line for a minute.

“Okay. For real. Bye,” Steve laughed.

“Bye, Stevie.”

He hung up before he could convince himself to talk to him for the rest of the afternoon.

He breathed out a loud sigh, smiling as he realized he had a date.

He dialed Gareth’s real number immediately.

“Gareth, I have a date!”

“What is this number, Eddie?”

“Oh, I dropped my phone in the sewers. Not important. I have a date!”

“Jesus Christ. Okay. Come over then.”

—-----------------------------------

Gareth had been his pre-date hype man since high school, though he wasn’t very good at it.

Mostly he calmed Eddie’s nerves and helped make sure his hair didn’t look like he just woke up, which was often its unfortunate state of being.

“So, you don’t know this guy,” Gareth said from his bed.

“No.”

“And you talked for like two seconds and decided you’re in love with him,” he continued.

“Yes.”

“And you think this is totally normal and sane?”

“I didn’t say that. But we just…I dunno. We clicked. I haven’t been that at ease with someone in a long time. It felt natural,” Eddie fell back on his bed, starfishing so his arm and leg hit Gareth’s legs.

“Dude, I’m not discouraging it. I’m happy for you. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if it isn’t as easy when you meet,” Gareth said softly.

“Yeah, thanks. I think it’ll be okay, though.”

“Alright. Tell babcia I’m coming by tomorrow for lunch.”

Eddie sat up and gave Gareth a quick hug.

“Thanks Gare Bear!”

—-------------------------------------------

He arrived 20 minutes early so he could sneak in the back to say hi to Gareth’s grandmother, who still insisted on getting her hands on the food every day for a couple of hours despite being nearly 80 years old.

“Babcia!”

“Eddie! My kochany! You forget to visit and I forget what you look like!” she rushed over, flour and oil stains all over her apron.

He should have kept some distance so his shirt didn’t get ruined, but he ignored the part of his brain telling him to look perfect for his date so he could get a hug.

“You know I have to watch my money,” he said against her shoulder.

“And you know I feed you for free if you clean up after yourself. No excuse,” she pulled away and looked him over. “You look handsome. Why?”

Eddie put his hands on his hips.

“What? Don’t I always look handsome?”

“Of course, but this is different. Your hair is smooth and you smell like the perfume store,” she smirked. “Is it a girl? Or a boy? Or a someone?”

“It’s a boy. We’ve never met in person, so I wanted to make a good first impression,” he admitted.

“Oh! How lovely! What’s his name?” She was back to kneading dough, but kept her eyes on him.

“Steve. He actually has been here before, loves the devolay?”

Babcia froze.

“Steve? Oh goodness.” She turned to the sink and washed her hands, muttering under her breath about something.

Eddie’s heart sank. Babcia didn’t seem happy about this.

“What’s wrong? You know him?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Is he not a good guy? Has he been mean to you? I’ll call and cancel right now,” he insisted, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“No, no. Nothing like that. He is a very sweet boy. He got broken up with in this restaurant a few months back. Tore me to pieces. He just sat here for hours crying. I moved him to a corner booth for his privacy and he left me a $100 tip and ever since then when he comes in I make sure to give him as many szarlotka as he wants.” She touched Eddie’s shoulder. “You be good to him. He has a nice heart.”

Eddie’s mind raced.

Why had Steve agreed to come here for a date if this is where he’d been broken up with? Why did he even bother coming back if it held such bad memories?

What if he didn’t see this as a date?

The front door chimed and he heard the employee at the front welcome someone.

“He will be good for you, drogi.”

Eddie nodded before making his way to the front, stopping in his tracks when he saw the most beautiful man he’d ever seen standing at the podium, talking to the employee with a smile.

“That’s him,” Babcia said from behind him. “Go get him.”

She shoved him forward, nearly making him trip, which caught the attention of Steve.

He looked over with a curious smile, and then realization seemed to hit him.

“Steve?” Eddie managed to ask, loud enough to be heard over the few full tables in the restaurant.

“Eddie?” he asked back, hesitantly moving towards him.

“I, um,” Eddie started, then cleared his throat. “I usually sit by the window, if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,” Steve nodded.

It was cliche, like the room around them closed into just them existing together, like the stars had aligned exactly right for this moment to happen.

They sat down at the table Eddie usually sat at, staring across the table at each other in slight awe.

Eddie really hoped that Steve was having the same feelings he was.

But one thing was stopping Eddie from being completely enraptured.

“Is this a date?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” Steve seemed surprised by his question. “I mean, yeah. I’d like it to be. I thought it was.”

Eddie nodded once, but remained quiet, thinking.

“Oh God, it wasn’t, was it? You were just being nice. What is it with this restaurant? If I didn’t love the food so much or babcia, I would never step foot here again, I swear-”

Eddie put his hand on Steve’s to calm him down, frown on his face.

“Woah. What?”

“I just. I don’t have the best history with dates here and I guess I didn’t learn the first time something bad happened, and now I’m being too much too fast again in this place and-”

Eddie pulled Steve’s hand up to his face, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“Stevie, calm down. This is a date. I’ll have as many dates here as you want to to get rid of whatever negative stuff you associate with this place. Babcia would hate that I ruined this place for you,” he said quietly.

Steve seemed to relax at his words.

And if you wanna tell me about what happened, you can. If it’ll help,” Eddie offered.

Before Steve could reply, Gareth’s cousin, Ben, came to take their order.

It was a quick order, both knowing exactly what they wanted, and then Steve looked back at him.

“It’s just. My last girlfriend, who I was with for almost three years, dumped me here. It was kind of out of the blue for me, and I had a really hard time that night.”

Eddie felt his heart break.

How could someone do that to Steve? He didn’t need to know him better to know that he didn’t deserve that, especially not if babcia had taken him under her wing so quickly.

“She must be awful to have let you go like that,” Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand in his, resisting the urge to go to his side of the table and hold him.

Steve shrugged and looked down at their hands.

“I mean, I should have known. She was never much for romance or spending time together that didn’t involve work or school. I was looking at engagement rings and she was looking at apartments to get away from me. I was just…really blinded by what I thought was love,” Steve smiled sadly at him.

“It wasn’t?”

“Well, it may have been a type of love. It was more comfort than anything. She was kind of all I had for the first year we were together, and I think I just ignored how unhealthy that was for both of us. And then I met Robin in college, and she was like the opposite of Nancy in every way. A few months before Nancy broke up with me, I told her that Robin’s parents kicked her out when she came out to them and that she needed a place to stay until we graduated. She agreed, then never made any attempt at getting to know her. And I didn’t read into it, Nancy isn’t like, super talkative with people she isn’t already close with, and Robin just kinda stayed to herself when Nancy was home.” Steve took a shaky breath. “But it turns out she didn’t bother getting to know her because she already knew she was gonna break up with me and leave the apartment to me and Robin, so.she just. Didn’t bother. Robin warned me, but I didn’t listen.”

Eddie wanted to cry.

Steve’s voice was full of pain, but not in a way that told him he still loved her, or still hoped they would get back together. More that she broke a part of him that he still hadn’t been able to fix no matter how hard he tried or wanted to.

“Was she jealous?” Eddie asked, trying so hard to understand what could have happened.

“I dunno. I mean, Robin’s a lesbian, and I definitely never had feelings for her anyway. Nancy was always so sure of herself, I can’t imagine she’d be jealous.”

“It sounds like she didn’t appreciate you very much.”

“What do you mean?” Steve didn’t sound mad, just curious.

“Well, she didn’t even make an effort to get to know your best friend, right? And it sounds like she was too busy focusing on her future to even think about what you looked like in it, and instead of trying to plan it with you, she made a future for her. She sounds a bit selfish,” Eddie shrugged.

Instead of being upset, Steve laughed.

God, Eddie loved that laugh.

“Sorry, it’s just that you sound exactly like Robin. You’d probably be two peas in a pod.”

“Tell me about her,” Eddie genuinely wanted to know more about the person who kept Steve going.

Their food arrived in the middle of the story of how Steve and Robin met, but it didn’t stop him from continuing.

Eddie listened with a fond smile, filling in Steve’s gaps of silence as he chewed a bite of food with questions or something related to what he’d been talking about.

It was easy.

It was fun.

Halfway through the meal, Steve’s foot rested against one of his and it felt like electricity shooting through his bones.

Eddie told him about Gareth, and his family who had pretty much adopted him when they both moved here from a small town in Indiana. He talked about his uncle who raised him for most of his life, who visited every Christmas despite being on a really tight budget.

Time passed quickly, but not at all.

They hadn’t realized how long they’d been sitting there until babcia came out without her apron to hand deliver an apple tart.

“You boys enjoy. I’ll see you both soon!” she said as she smacked a kiss on top of each of their heads.

Both of them blushed, but tried to cover it up with a bite of food.

As they finished, Steve looked outside to see how dark it was, how few people were left walking the streets.

“Guess we should head out,” he muttered, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Would you wanna come to my place? We don’t have to do anything except talk, I promise. I just don’t really want this to end yet,” Eddie suggested.

“Really? I haven’t bored you?” Steve asked, just a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

Eddie shook his head.

“Not at all. I’d really like to get a chance to love you the way you deserve,” Eddie said.

Steve’s eyes widened.

Eddie should back up, should say something less intense.

But if this ruined it, then at least he said what he was thinking.

“You think you could love me?” Steve asked, barely more than a whisper.

“I think I already do a little,” Eddie admitted.

Steve blinked at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape.

“I need to kiss you,” he finally said.

“Now? Here?” Eddie smiled.

“Now. Here.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Steve stood from the table and stood in front of Eddie, placing both hands on his cheeks and leaning down.

Their lips brushed in a barely-there kiss, softer than Eddie expected.

Steve stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, and Eddie couldn’t help the words tumbling from him.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

If someone had said it to him, he would think they were just trying to get him into their bed, but that wasn’t the case here and he hoped Steve knew that.

“People used to call me a charmer, but I don’t think I’m half as good at it as you,” Steve whispered, his breath ghosting against Eddie’s lips.

“Just honest.”

“Take me home,” Steve said, opening his eyes and staring at Eddie, his eyes glowing with something close to love.

—-------------------------------------

They stayed up all night, never doing more than kissing and mapping out patterns on each others’ skin.

They talked about everything, even the painful parts of life, even the parts that they hadn’t shared with anyone else.

It didn’t make any sense that someone who had been a stranger not even 24 hours ago could already mean so much.

When the sun started to shine through the curtains of Eddie’s apartment, Steve sighed and buried his face in Eddie’s neck.

“I have to go to work,” though he burrowed his entire body further into the bed and Eddie’s side.

“You could call in sick,” Eddie suggested, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

“Robin would kill me.”

He and Robin worked together as team teachers at an elementary school. When one of them missed, it left the other with 34 kids alone.

Plus, Steve loved his job, worked hard to be a teacher, and hated missing a day if he didn’t need to.

“Maybe you could bring Robin here after work? I can make dinner?” Eddie’s job was pretty easy, marketing for an Indie record label based out of New York remotely really kept him busy for a couple hours a day and the rest of the time was spent writing his own music.

Steve sat up and looked down at him, his hair ruffled from Eddie running his fingers through it for the last eight hours.

“You’d wanna meet Robin?”

“Yeah, if you want me to. She sounds like fun.”

Steve started crying.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry. Good job, Munson, already ruined something good,” Eddie was reaching for a tissue from his bedside table.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and emotional. And just. It means a lot that you’d wanna meet her,” Steve said between gasps for air as he continued to cry.

“Of course I do. I could even invite Gareth over, too, if you want. He won’t believe that our date went well,” Eddie joked, brushing the tears away from Steve’s cheeks.

“I’d love to meet him,” Steve said, sniffling.

“When can you guys get here?”

“Usually we’re done by four, but sometimes we stay later to finish grading stuff. Maybe we should say six?”

“Got it. Any allergies?”

“Robin is allergic to shellfish. She says she is. I think she just doesn’t like them,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“No shellfish, got it. Any preferences, my love?”

Steve blushed at the term of endearment, looking down before he leaned in to kiss Eddie softly.

“Anything you make will be great.”

“You wanna borrow some clothes for work?” Eddie asked.

“Do you have any business casual stuff?”

Eddie gagged.

“Unfortunately, it’s required for the job sometimes. Far left of the closet should have something,” he nodded towards the small closet by the bathroom.

Eddie watched as Steve walked over and picked out his only pair of khaki pants and a navy button down. Steve looked back at him and winked before he nodded towards the bathroom.

“Could use some help working the shower if you’re willing to,” he smirked.

Eddie jumped up from the bed and ran into the bathroom, ignoring the way Steve was laughing.

“The hot water is tricky sometimes. I should probably get in there too to make sure it stays hot,” Eddie said as he stripped off his pants.

“Definitely. Wouldn’t want me to get cold,” Steve put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down. “Kiss me?”

Eddie leaned in to kiss him slowly, letting his tongue brush along his lips just to get a taste.

“Okay?” Eddie checked in.

“Yeah. You remember what you said last night? About loving me like I deserve?”

Eddie nodded.

“I want you to. And I want to love you back.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

[makeyoumine69]

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering. 

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?" 

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes. 

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend. 

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly. 

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock. 

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand. 

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure. 

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion. 

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead. 

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed. 

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment. 

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day. 

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it. 

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him. 

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.  

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[sysmedsaresexist]

Today we're once again reminded of the levels of cruelty people are capable of.

I missed most of the drama with the bait accounts, but I want to offer some positivity and solace to those affected.

Many of you actually cared about the fake child behind the screen. You wanted to help, you sent kindness and support, and I watched many of you worry in private on discord-- everyone was very realistic about the claims. Obviously they were probably wrong, but goddamn, they needed help.

Don't be embarrassed or ashamed that you fell for it.

You are a good person, who sees good in the world.

You aren't gullible or easily manipulated.

You are still capable of trust, and you should be so proud of yourself for manging to hold on to that trait after everything you've been through.

Don't let this do further damage to you. Don't be angry with yourself, don't lose that faith in the good of humanity.

Don't let sick people trick you into thinking the world is full of only horrible people. Don't let yourself become more skeptical, because that's what they want.

Continue to believe survivors

In Canada, we have a saying.

"Better that someone abuse the system, than for someone who needs it to not have access."

Stay with me, I'm going somewhere with this.

When we talk about Universal Healthcare with Americans, this topic comes up a lot. "But people will abuse the system."

Yes, but more people actually need and use the system appropriately. You can't allow bad people to harm everyone. Everyone loses in that case.

As proof:

We pay less in taxes than Americans, and still get free Healthcare. I take home more money than you, and still get more out of it. The myth that our waitlists are months long is fake and orchestrated by American insurance companies.

Consider, for a second, how your background plays into your beliefs and skepticism regarding these topics. Maybe I was just raised to be more trusting, I don't know.

But I certainly don't think the mindset is harmful.

You can read interviews on the isstd website with clinicians that were working during the satanic panic. One interview stood out to me in particular.

Imagine for a second that you have a patient sitting in front of you. They tell you that they have dreams about being abused by a satanic cult. They give you details of these dreams and you talk through them together. For now, you're focused on how these dreams affect them. Are they losing sleep? Is their daily life affected? Anxiety? They begin to tell you about their paranoia, and how people they recognize are in the dreams.

You probe a bit deeper.

They wonder aloud if maybe it happened in real life.

How do you respond? Really think about how your response will come across.

This was the satanic panic.

The ISSTD didn't find their patients themselves. Doctors from across the world referred their patients to the ISSTD's treatment program in Chicago. The doctors at the ISSTD trusted the referring doctors, who had already done the majority of work and background gathering (meaning the ISSTD met these clients long after they had made their claims, rather than "implanting" those memories themselves). Police were involved trying to sort through all the information to find real culprits. Everyone was terrified. No one knew what was happening or who to trust or believe. It looked real.

In the back of every doctor's mind was the question, "What if they're telling the truth?"

Many doctors didn't believe their clients, but telling them that to their face would be bad practice.

This large scale hysteria was something no one was prepared for. They were flying by the seat of their pants, hoping for the best and that an answer would fall from the sky.

Yes, many of the claims were fake. Whether they were consciously made up, or stand-in pseudomemories for real abuse (a well-documented thing), and the rare cases mixed in that were genuine-- doctors tried to take their clients' claims at face value.

Imagine you tell your doctor about your abuse and they say, "that sounds a bit extreme, I don't think that's possible."

Programmed DID existed before the panic, it exists to this day. Just because you can't find the research doesn't mean it isn't there.

By claiming something specific isn't real, you also discredit the abuse leading up to it.

Let me put it another way, who cares if programmed DID is possible? Organized and ritual abuse is real. Trafficking, CSA films, war crimes, conversion groups, churches. DID is real.

Grey Faction and TST want you to stay in the mindset that it's more important to weed out fakers and malingerers than to trust people in the hopes you help just one person in a real way. They want you to be skeptical of everyone and everything in order to maintain their public image, because if you look too hard, you'll see the terrible things they have done.

GF has a bad habit of being like, "The TST doesn't take part in LARGE SCALE MURDER AND CANNIBALISM, that's not even real, it was debunked during the panic," as if to say anything less severe isn't worthy of note and also must not be real. It's surprisingly effective, and by connecting more absurd ideas with RAMCOA and the ISSTD, they manage to discredit huge swathes of the field.

Some people like to think they took the red pill, and that they've ascended to a higher level of intelligence with a new, better ability to look at things impartially, when they're really just assholes falling for bullshit. They hurt real survivors and still think they're in the right.

It's vile behavior done for cheap kicks and internet brownie points. Even 4chan types wouldn't go that far or be that pathetic.

Who else could look someone in the face and say, "I don't believe you."

They want you to think they're better than you, but which is better?

Outward and vocal skepticism and dismissal, or quiet, thoughtful reflection with the longterm goal of helping this person find their truth?

Some of you would make much better doctors than others.

The bad people aren't the ones "faking" or lying. Those people at mentally ill and still deserving of help.

The bad people are the ones who want to dismiss every claim because one person once lied about it.

Don't lose your faith. Don't let this set you back. We need more people like you.

I'm proud of you for caring about people.

What happened will further stigmatize survivors, it did real damage to people. You're not alone.

Don't let them win, you did the right things.

Stay safe, everyone.

We survived this kind of discourse once on a much larger scale. We'll do it again.

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 10 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You missed out on a lot of things when you lived in Chicago, because you didn't want to do them without Bradley. On a very important trip, you and he both visit the city together.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 1500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

Five Months Later...

"I can't believe we're willingly flying to Chicago in January," you complained with a bright smile on your face. 

"This was your idea, Sugar," Bradley reminded you, holding up both boarding passes for the airline gate agent to scan. "It's not too late to stay in Vegas or fly to Fiji like I originally wanted."

"No, no. We're going to Chicago together," you told him, taking his hand as you boarded your flight from Las Vegas to O'Hare. Bradley spun your rings around on your finger as you located your seats and settled in. 

"Chicago in January. Two days before a blizzard is due to arrive. Are we about to go on the shittiest honeymoon ever?" he asked, kissing your lips. 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Listen, we just had Elvis marry us yesterday on the Vegas strip. We had a quickie wedding after being engaged for five weeks, and I'm not even pregnant. Now we're about to get snowed in together in Chicago. You'll be stuck in a room with me for a week. I don't think a conventional honeymoon is what we needed, Beer Boy."

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed. "Actually, now that you mention it, being snowed in with you sounds like a dream, Sugar. What am I even complaining about?"

"I don't know," you whispered against his scars. "You get me and Chicago deep dish pizza around the clock if you want it."

"I want it," he confirmed. "You can feed me pizza naked in bed after we have sex. And then I'll get hard again, we can have sex again, and you can feed me more pizza. It sounds like the perfect week. Chicago in January is everything I ever wanted."

You were shaking with silent laughter as the flight attendant went over the safety instructions, and soon you were in the air. And then you fell asleep on your husband's shoulder. Bradley jostled you awake in time to see the city all lit up against a snowy backdrop as the plane descended into Chicago. 

"Are you ready for this?" you asked, standing next to him with your bags, about to walk outside to get a taxi. "It's three degrees out there."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Bradley mumbled, but he looked scared. "No problem."

Once you and he were outside, he was practically crying as you took care of hailing a ride to the hotel. "You have thin Californian blood now," you told him as he snuggled up next to you in the back seat. You kissed his icy cold nose and forehead as you headed through the city where you lived for four years during grad school. "It's embarrassing, Bradley. I married a Californian."

He shivered in your arms and said, "We're both Virginians, Sugar. I just hate being cold."

You were playing with his hair and kissing along his ear as he melted into you. Every time you thought about the crazy juxtaposition that your life had become, you felt tears in your eyes. You had missed Bradley terribly when you were living in Chicago and still even after you graduated with your PhD. So it just felt right that he was here with you now.

"That's where I got my second tattoo," you whispered as the taxi drove slowly down a side street. 

Bradley looked out the window and smiled. "Should be a historic landmark."

Your laughter filled the small space as he kissed you. Then he paid the cab fare, and you had never seen him move as fast as he did when he hauled all of the luggage inside to the warm hotel lobby. 

"Let's go get a good night's sleep," you told him as he carried everything to the elevator and then into the hotel room. 

"We're not sleeping," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to snuggle with me until I'm warm again, which could take hours, and then I'm fucking you for the rest of the night."

He wasn't lying. You pulled him into bed with you, and held his body close, softly kissing him and telling him how happy you were. 

"I love you, Sugar. I loved you ten years ago, and I love you today, and I'll still be loving you ten years from now."

Slowly and meticulously, he undressed you beneath the blankets, touching and kissing each new bit of skin as it was exposed. He took extra time and gave extra attention to your tattoos, just like he always did. 

"I've been in love with you since the first time you wore my bathrobe," he told you before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts as you giggled. "No, before that. Since the first time I watched you put a bottle of beer to your perfect lips." He kissed his way up to your mouth, lingering there until you were sighing against him. 

"You've been in love with me since you met me then? Is that what you're trying to say, Beer Boy?"

He groaned as he slid his length inside you. "God, I fucking love it when you call me that. Every single time. And yes, Sugar, ever since I met you."

You made love to your husband all night, your hands and eyes roving over his body as you told him how happy you were that you both ended up at your class reunion in Virginia. That he was at the same bar as you that night last summer. 

When you both finally fell asleep, it was a long time before you woke up. Room service had already switched from breakfast to lunch, but Bradley got them to agree to send up a pot of coffee along with your lunch order. You and he ate all bundled up in bed together with the curtains open, the first flurries of snow falling outside as the storm moved in. 

"We need to head out soon so we can get back before it gets dark," you told him as he sipped his coffee. 

His expression looked unimpressed, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let's go, Sugar."

The taxi dropped you both off at the edge of the park as the sidewalks were getting slick from the snow. There were only a few people out and about, and even in the middle of the day, the sunlight was struggling to break through the heavy, gray clouds. Bradley had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you approached The Bean together. You stood side by side, examining if for a moment in silence. 

"It's just a big, metallic bean," you said, leaning into Bradley as the wind picked up.

"I knew it would be dumb as hell, Sugar," he replied, gesturing at it with his hand like there was no good explanation for what they were seeing.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and looked up at him as you started cracking up. "I'm glad I didn't see it without you. It was worth the wait."

"You were worth the wait. The Bean, maybe less so," he replied, kissing you as you took your phone out. 

After you took a bunch of selfies and texted some to Nat, you looked at Bradley and hummed. His cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and the tip of his nose was getting red. He was perfect, and he was all yours. 

"Have you given much thought to a little Bradshaw bean?" you asked as snowflakes stuck on his mustache. 

"Bradshaw bean?" he asked. His brow was creased before it started to smooth out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Sugar?"

You nodded and kissed his pink cheek. "Yeah, Beer Boy. A little baby Bradshaw bean. Just something to think about."

Both of you thought about it and talked about it as you stood in front of the giant bean in the middle of a blizzard. But you didn't need to make all of your decisions right now. You weren't planning on being without Bradley ever again. 

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

THANK YOU for reading along on this adventure with me! Beer Boy/Man and Sugar belong together, and I'm happy she gets to take him to Chicago, even if it's during a blizzard! I hope you had as much fun as I did! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Please visit the one-shot The Grateful Dad for some more Beer Boy and Sugar!

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[queenslimeball]

Sounds like a dream

Part two here

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Contents; Angst, fluff, mother!reader

Summary; Y/n visits Gator in jail to introduce him to their son.

It's been a long time since Gator was first sentenced to prison. It was even worse for him to begin with, considering he had to deal with it blindly, too. To help, he'd been given a mobility cane, of which he struggled to use it within the first few weeks.

Gator hasn't had many ways of keeping track, but he assumes he's already been locked up for almost two years now. He assumes so because he can visualise the layout of the prison in his mind – he knows where everything is by now. Every day is Groundhog Day, so it doesn't take very long to learn.

What isn't hard to keep track of is the number of visits Gator has gotten. Two. Both from Dot. Both with cookies. Both several months apart. Other than that, nothing. At least she is a woman of her word.

Gator is sitting on his bed in his cell when he hears a loud bang at the bars with a guard's batton. It startles him, and he looks in the general direction to which it came from.

"Oi, Tillman. You got a visitor comin' in. Get up." The guard says. The recognisable sound of the door creaking open echoes through the jail. Gator carefully stands. He reaches out for the guard's shoulder and keeps it there so he can be lead away.

Gator's mind is filled with wonder. Who would be visiting him? Surely not Dot again. She didn't visit too long ago now, and she rarely visits. But it's not like anyone else does.

Gator is instructed to sit at a table, and then he hears the guard walk off. It seems that he's alone in the room. He can't hear a single sound of someone else. Disappointment floods his heart for a moment, his shoulders sinking.

The sound of shoes on the floor brightens his spirits suddenly. He hears someone sit opposite him. Gator feels his excitement come back.

"Hey, Gator." It's Y/n.

Y/n's voice soothes Gator, somewhat. He hasn't heard the sound in so long, yet it's so refreshing. She was Gator's girlfriend. But, when she found out Gator wasn't as good of a guy as she thought he was, she broke up with him. She was one of the last people he saw before his eyes were taken from him. He'll always remember the sight of her, no matter how long passes.

"Y/n? What're you doin' here?" Gator asks softly, not quite believing that this is her.

"Visiting you." Y/n replies.

"I– I know that." Gator pinches the bridge of his nose just below the black-out sunglasses he wears. "But I mean... Why?"

"I wanted to see how you are." She shrugs simply.

"Well, I'm shit, yeah, I'm in jail." Gator scoffs.

"That's not what I meant."

"It's not?"

"No." Y/n responds firmly. "I meant I wanted to see if you've changed. If this this has done you any good."

The truth is, it has. Even losing his sight was enough to flip his whole world upside down. Now, jail has flipped it about continuously like a washing machine. He's not the old Gator anymore. Or at least he's not the Gator that tried to be a Roy. He's the Gator trying to be a Gator.

"I hope so." Is all Gator musters up to say. "How've you been?" He asks.

"Good. I actually moved out to Chicago not long after all that shit happened." She answers. "I got a new job, new friends, the whole lot."

"New boyfriend?" Gator can't help but ask, a hint of jealousy in his tone.

Y/n laughs and shakes her head, but then she remembers that Gator can't see her and quickly tries to verbalise it. "God, no."

"That's a... shame. You deserve someone nice." He tries not to make it sound too forced, but he's more just excited that he still has a chance with her.

"Thanks. I, uh... I brought someone that I'd like you to meet." Y/n finally says, as if she's been debating to go through with this. Gator hears the sound of her rising to walk away, then shortly after start to walk over to his side of the table.

"What's goin' on? Is this some kinda prank?" He questions, sceptical of her behaviour.

"Turn around." She ignores him. Gator huffs and does as told on the bench, spinning around to face where her voice comes from.

"So who the hell am I–" He starts, but stops himself when he feels someone lowered into his lap. A small someone.

"What's this?" He questions. His hand gently reaches to feel whatever is in his lap. He finds a face and quickly repositions his hand, finding hair instead. "I mean, who?"

"Meet your son."

Gator's whole world stops. His heart stops beating, and his brain stops working. His son? When did he ever have a son? He tries to ask her about it, but he just can't get any words out as his mouth gapes open. His bottom lip quivers slightly, and he gently wraps an arm around the small boy, holding him closer.

"My.. My son?"

"Well, our son." She corrects. "I found out I was pregnant after we broke up."

Gator can't help but smile. "Our son.." He murmurs to himself.

Y/n sits next to Gator. She leans her head on Gator's shoulder to get a view of Gator and their son. Gator feels his skin heat up at her being so close, but she doesn't think much of it whatsoever.

"What's his name?"

"Alex. I couldn't think of anything creative, so I just named him after the midwife. Luckily, she had a gender neutral name." She recalls with a soft chuckle.

"Hey, Alex. It's Daddy." Gator softens his voice, looking where he thinks Alex's face will be.

"Daddy..." Alex mumbles, a small hand reaching up to grab at Gator's face. His heart melts, and he smiles widely.

Gator's smile vanishes, although. The sweetness of his son has quickly become something he doesn't know if he could live with. He'll never see his son. His face slowly falls into one of despair.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asks, peering around to study Gator's facial features that she can read from his eyebrows, cheeks and mouth.

"No, no, I'm–" Gator stumbles on his words. He makes a noise, like he's about to speak, but it just comes out as a shaky breath like he's about to cry. "I'm never gonna see my son."

Y/n gently rubs Gator's back. There's not much she can do besides that. She can't give him his sight back. If she could, she would. She feels bad for him.

Gator tries to calm himself down. He slowly relaxes himself, for now, even though he knows this is going to be keeping him up all night. He won't be able to sleep with that thought. It's terrifying. Terrifying that there's nothing he can do about it.

"What does he look like?" Gator questions after a moment of pure silence. He gently pets Alex's hair, enjoying how soft it is.

"Honestly, better than I'd imagined." Y/n answers. "He's got the same shade hair as me. It's all messy. He's got your eyes and your nose. Freckles. The cheekiest, cutest smile you'd ever see."

"He sounds like a dream." He says, voice wavering as his hand gently combs through Alex's hair.

"He is. He reminds me of you in a way." She chuckles. "Because, he–"

Vzzrt!

The buzzer for the end of visiting.

Gator finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed. His mind is still on Y/n and Alex. She was about to say something good about him. He knows it. Surely she wouldn't badmouth their young son, so surely he's onto something here? Gator wishes he had just a few more seconds to hear what she likes about him. Or to hear more about his son. Maybe next time...

[harrysfolklore]

hi ! could you do an instagram concept with lizzy mcalpine ? her and harry are my favorites 4 ever ! thank you !!

i'm still mourning taylor and joe so here's a blurb inspired by them but with a happy ending ! i hope you like it

if you want exclusive blurbs you can SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by oliviarodrigo, harrystyles and 1,983,385 others

yourinstagram alexa play the back to black album by amy winehouse

we're taking the stage in chicago toniiiight 🤍

view all 36,936 comments

ynfan1 MY BESTIEEE

harryfan1 she's so pretty

selenagomez 💗

ynfan2 you should cover love is a losing game

harryfan2 that's a breakup album is she okay

sabrinacarpenter see you tonight 😻

↳ ynfan3 OMG SABRINA WILL ATTEND THE SHOW MY FAVES

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 7,273 others

harryupdates Harry with some fans in London recently!

view all 1,976 comments

harryfan1 MY BABYYYYY

ynfan1 if he's in london then he's not attending yn's show (again)

↳ harryfan2 it's kinda weird that he hasn't been able to attend any of yn's shows yet

↳ ynfan1 i know that's sus

↳ harryfan3 relax there must be a valid reason behind it

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 18,375 others

celebrityleaks Deuxmoi via twitter. Could this be about our favorite lovers Harry and YN? He has been absent from her tour since it started even though he's on a break from his own world tour 👀

view all 4,927 comments

ynfan1 you got to be kidding me

harryfan1 no way

ynfan2 i honestly can't believe you guys think this is real, do you think yn would be performing songs like lover, invisible string, delicate, lovesong, dog years and goden hour as happy as ever if they had recently broke up??

↳ harryfan2 riiight this is just nonsense

liked by ynfan1, harryfan2 and 6,984 others

ynupdates "This song is about wondering what could've been" - YN before performing the 1 as a surprise song tonight !

view all 1,014 comments

ynfan1 ooohhhh

harryfan1 interesting

ynfan2 if the rumors are true shes soooo messy

harryfan2 i hope this isn't what i'm thinking about

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 8,936 others

harryupdtes Harry leaving a gym in LA today !

view all 1,019 comments

harryfan1 BABYYY

ynfan1 oh he looks pissed

harryfan2 the rumors might be true....

ynfan2 i hope everything is okay

liked by harryfan, ynfan1 and 109,984 others

people It's over 💔 #HarryStyles and #YN are calling it quits after six years of dating. Tap in the link in our bio for the full story.

view all 10,826 comments

harryfan1 oh

ynfan1 i can't believe this

harryfan2 nah this is fake

ynfan2 i won't belive anything until both of them say something

liked by harryfan1, ynfan2 and 7,930 others

ynupdates YN via twitter today

view all 1,011 comments

ynfan1 shit

harryfan1 ooohh

ynfan2 so they didn't break up

↳ harryfan2 she didn't quite deny the rumors, she's just upset about media taking advantage of the situation :(

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2,093,223 others

billieeilish That's my best friend and I'm proud.

view all 54,012 comments

ynfan1 aweeee

sza i love you both

ynfan2 their friendship is the cutest

harryfan1 harry liked this 👀

finneas ❤

ynfan3 imagine performing and looking like that after a breakup

yourinstagram thank you for being here 💗

↳ ynfan4 she's so loved

liked by harrystyles, dualipa and 3,987,296 others

yourinstagram ever since our relationship began 6 years ago, we've been taking care of it by not exposing it to the echo chambers on the internet and the media. that way, we have been able to enjoy each other without having to explain ourselves to anybody.

this past weeks the internet has been filled with rumors and speculations about our relationship, with big media outlets claiming that we broke up and more people feeding into it.

however, i'm very pleased to tell you that those stories are fake, harry and i are still together despite the rumors that may have been circulating, and our love for each other only grew stronger, and we can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together. thank you to all of our family and friends for your unwavering support and encouragement. we're overjoyed to share this moment with you all. here's to the next chapter in our love story

view all 89,014 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGGGG

harryfan1 HUUUUHHHHHH?

oliviarodrigo best news ever 🥺

ynfan2 I KNEW ITTTT

harryfan2 biggest plot twist ever

harrystyles I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, my lover x

↳ harryfan3 HUSBANDRRY ALREADY

↳ ynfan3 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

liked by yourinstagram, niallhoran and 6,937,037 others

harrystyles My lover. For the rest of my life.

comments on this post have been limited

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy y @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast t @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

[heartmix]

Rebel - Kelly Severide

Pairing: Kelly Severide x fem!reader

Word Count: 800+

Warning: One swear word, mention of we*d (the whole fic is about this)

A/N: Just a warning, I've only seen half a season of this show and a full season of Med. So if I get a character wrong, my bad. Also, I mention that the reader is Boden's niece but she doesn't need to be blood-related. She can be a family friend niece or whatever you want to decide.

Masterlist / One Chicago Masterlist

Once in a while, everyone would be in a good enough mood to sit down and have dinner. No excuses about needing to clean the truck or refill the ambo. Also now excuses from Squad 3 that they were having an intense round of cards. Them being free to actually sit and eat together was probably due to the fact that you cooked dinner, something that was rare. Often you were too tired, but today felt different so you decided to do the task of cooking dinner for the firehouse. 

For the first 10 minutes, everyone was quiet. Other than utensils clashing against each other hardly any words were said. Everyone wanted to get a good amount of food in before a call would come through.

Although it wasn't long before someone started up a conversation. In a second the table looks like a real family dinner table, loud. The topic seemed to be reminiscing about being young, before becoming a firefighter. You were one of the youngest at the table so you didn't think they were gonna ask questions about the topic. Your youth wasn't that long ago. 

"What's one thing you miss when you were younger." Sylvie asked you seeing as you were next down the line.

"Smoking weed." You casually said which made everyone look at you with a raised eyebrow. They thought you were joking or not believing you.

"What? I work for the state, I can't do that anymore." You shrugged as if it was no big deal. You really didn't think it was, it was so easy to get the supply so it shouldn't be that shocking.

"You used to smoke weed?" Casey asked again still in disbelief as with everyone else.

"Yeah, who hasn't at last once?" You asked and soon courses of 'me' all spoke at once. Some of them had to be lying right?

"God you guys were boring." 

"Next you're going to tell us you got arrested." Otis quipped which made you gasp.

"Wow just because I smoked weed you make that connection, and no I haven't I just ran from the cops." You mumbled the last part not knowing why you were feeding them this information. Sure you were all one big happy family, but big happy families don't need to know everything about each other.

"What the hell, kid," Hermann said making you give a sheepish smile. The look on his face told you he was never going to look at you the same again.

"It was a different time, I was having the time of my life." You defended yourself. Sure weed wasn't legal in Illinois, but it wasn't bad. It was a herb.

"What else did you do?" Kelly asked who surprisingly has been quiet this whole time. He didn't look as shocked as everyone, but he didn't know you had this side of you.

"Uhh shoplifted?" You said in a questioning tone. Still, you didn't know why you were confessing all this.  

"How did you do a 360?" Sylvie asked impressed. You acted nothing like the girl you were talking about. Their young, sweet, rookie.

"I got sent to live with Boden, that's what happened," 

"I heard my name." You heard the devil himself say from behind you as he made his plate of food. He must have had an important call if he didn't come to eat right away.

"We didn't know your niece was a rebel child," Sylvie said making Chief laugh. He had the pleasure of watching you grow and is a big part of why you are today.

"Yeah, but look at her now." He said in a proud tone making you smile.

"Well he just made stop half the dangerous illegal stuff, I still smoked." You added not thinking much of it, you really didn't know when to stop.

"You what?!" He exclaimed making my eyes go wide.

"I thought you knew this!" You defended yourself. This was your sign to stop talking and not spill anything else about 'the time of your life.'

"No! How long did you do it for?" He asked making me gulp, all of a sudden you felt like you were 16 again.

"I stopped when I got hired." 

"You continued for 5 more years. You were smoking in college?!"

"How did you not smell it, I had some good shit. I thought you let me go since I was doing good in school." You defended for what seemed like the millionth time in just 5 minutes. 

"I'm going back to my office." He shook his head making you laugh. You knew it stressed him, but years have passed. He was just going to have a good laugh about it when he gets over the fact he couldn't tell what was happening in his house.

"Who knew you were such a rebel child," Otis said making the table chuckle.

"Oh like I'm such a good girl now. You older people are a buzzkill." You pipped in taking a jab at them, they were really showing their age. Even the younger ones who weren't that much older than you. 

"You got your hands full Severide," Sylvie said making your boyfriend shake his head in amusement. 

[octuscle]

Blonde by FaceTime

Alec has always had a bit of a crush on his friend Van. Actually, ever since they played together in the sandbox. But even then, Alec was the little chubby one. And Van the sweet heartbreaker. Van went through the usual stages to captain of the football team of an alpha career. And now he had his MBA cum laude and was about to embark on a stellar career.

Just to be close to Van, Alec had also studied business. At the same college. Although with his grades, he could have gone to a much better college. And even though he had always wanted to study medicine to become a pediatrician. And now it was all for nothing. Van had moved to Chicago a week ago to become a product manager for an online platform. And Alec had gotten an offer to go to work for an engineering company from their hometown to their branch in the Czech Republic. Alec had paid a high price for his hidden, never-expressed love. Getting a great georgraphic distance from Van now was probably the best solution.

Even now, when Van had become almost unattainable, Alec held on to him. He had gotten a deer, Van's nickname since childhood for some reason, inked on his forearm. And he started running to get closer to his own ideal, Van's athletic body. Today was the first fun run he participated in. He had already lost a few pounds. He was proud of that. So he had a colleague take a picture of himself and sent the Van "Miss you pal" was the caption.

Almost immediately his phone rang. Facetime video call from Van.

"Hi bro, damn you look good! How's life over in old Europe? It's still the middle of the night here, I was just getting in a quick work out before work."

Van turned the view and showed a picture of himself from the mirror. Alec had to swallow and got a dry throat. He didn't know what he was doing. The devil was riding him. So an "I love you" came out of his mouth.

For a second there was silence. "Dude, you better keep your massive cock under control. I would never be able to tame your monster" Van replied laughing. Alec laughed along with him. He was relieved that Van had taken it that way. Yes, the dick comparison had been the only contest with Van in which he had regularly won.

"Hehehehe, it's tough with all the hot studs here at the start."

Indeed, the bulge in his tight running shorts was scary. Many participants in the run, as well as spectators, had already been staring at him and whispering.

"That's what I think, bro! Is your stay successful then? What is the news on the market of nutritional supplements? Can't wait for you to bring back some cool new stuff."

Arec talked a bit about the fitness trade show here in Brno. In fact, there were a few things he wanted to include in the lineup of his fitness startup. He could use a little breath of fresh air for his business. True, he was a genius when it came to marketing and app development. And in theory, he knew everything about crossfitting and bodybuilding. But he just didn't have the body to make it believable. Fortunately, Van was regularly available as a model. When he posted something on Instagram, his sales went straight up.

Van replied that he had seen videos from the show on YouTube. "Dude, you did great on stage. Arac laughed and held the phone so that you could see as much of his biceps as possible. "Bruh, it was just a spontaneous idea. Several people had approached me. Actually, I don't feel in shape for competitions at all" "Honey, I don't think you need to be fishing for compliments right now. Come on, make your tits dance for me!" Arac didn't have to be asked twice. He loved this. The moment when Van had shown him how to do it was just awesome. Today his pecs were almost bigger than his friend's. A few people around him applauded. He had almost forgotten about the conversation with Van that he was standing in the middle of the fair among all the other visitors.

"Did you read the comments on your performance. They called you 'the blond angel'. Suits me, bro." Arac stroked his hair. He loved his blond hair. He had been blond since he was a kid, unlike Van. In pictures of the two of them from kindergarten, Van had always been the one with the darker hair. Today there was hardly any difference between the two.

"Bro, did you write down what all you are supposed to bring. I mean, we both know you can't remember anything with that birdbrain stuck in that hot skull of yours."

"Bruh, i may not b as smart as u, but i can still read ur emails" Arad laughed boomingly. A few guests at the fair took pictures of him. As best he could while talking on the phone, Arad did them the favor and struck a few poses. In his head, he frantically went over what all his duties here were. Fuck, he just forgot everything. And a few tasks, if he had to be honest, he didn't understand at all. He'd graduated from college with difficulty and on an athletic scholarship. He was glad he had Van as a mentor, Van had always been the smart one of the two. "Fuck, bruh! day all speak czech or german here. N english with uh nasty accent. I'm really lost here without uh brain like you!" "Goldilocks, you should have used your head for something other than growing a Viking mane for the last few years." Van laughed. "Don't worry about it, as long as you come back safe and sound!" "Wait uh minute, deer! I've got some selfies to take right now." A couple of the local bodybuilders and a bunch of chicks had already lined up. Arad let them take their selfies with him and turned back to Van.

"Deer, I miss you! When will I see you again?" "Dumbass, I'm already in the locker room. I'll be on the training floor in a minute. Did you clean up and tidy the gym properly? It would be cool if you could at least get this job done."

Brad looked around. Yes, he had carefully worked through the piece of paper with his work instructions. Damn, there sure were a lot of things he had to do in the morning before the Gym opened. He had already secretly let Van in before he officially opened the doors right away. On the one hand, Van could work out before the others, and on the other hand, he had someone to check if he had done everything right. Brad wanted to do this job well. Van earned enough for the two of them, but he didn't always want to be just the decorative accessory. Oh what was he kidding himself. He had turned Van into a fellow who was almost as hot as Brad himself. And now he was making sure they both ate the right diet, that the apartment was tidy. And that Van got to work out before the others. He looked around him. All set, he could open the doors. The door opened and Van came out of the locker rooms grinning.

"Honey, you already know you're not allowed to work bare-chested" "Hehehe, it's not just me who would be happier with that." Van laughed and threw him the T-shirt with the club logo. Before putting it on, Brad gave Van a passionate kiss. Something he had to do now…. Right, unlock the door and let in the members who were waiting outside.He was so glad he had Van.

[cleolinda]

When I was a child in the '80s, I absorbed some kind of cultural truism that disco was ridiculous, embarrassing, cheesy, a cultural relic to be mocked at every turn. Remember, I'm under ten years old at this time, and I still manage to get this impression. There was another, milder sea change when grunge overtook the hair metal of the late '80s, so I never questioned the idea that disco should be dead and buried. We like silly things, I thought in my 13-year-old wisdom, and then we get over it.

Then I saw The Last Days of Disco (1998) while I was in college, and suddenly I realized that disco was fun, and it was like—it was in the roots of—music I already loved. And the end of that movie also—hints? tells you? I can't remember how explicitly—that disco didn't just fade like most trends; it was killed off.

I watched a lot of VH1 in those days, the late '90s, with a little TV sitting on my tall university-issue dresser, its corner overlooking my computer desk while I struggled with piles of assignments. This was the heyday of Behind the Music, so it was great background TV. And then one day (1999) they ran a Donna Summer—the "Queen of Disco"—concert special. The video up there is the song that immediately became my favorite of hers. It’s just instant serotonin to me, any version of it. I bought the whole VH1 album on CD, and "This Time I Know It's For Real" may genuinely be one of my all-time favorite songs, now, still, more than 20 years later. You can hear the original version (1989) here (the backing instrumental that I just found today is lovely), but the live version ten years later, the video up there, has a really special comeback—joyous, gracious survival—energy to it.

Watching the whole concert, I got it. Why the fuck did I ever think disco wasn't amazing? It was always the kind of thing I loved; we had all just been pretending that it was embarrassing glitter trash.

And then I found out why we were pretending. From densely-footnoted Wikipedia:

Disco Demolition Night was a Major League Baseball (MLB) promotion on Thursday, July 12, 1979, at Comiskey Park in Chicago, Illinois, that ended in a riot. At the climax of the event, a crate filled with disco records was blown up on the field between games of the twi-night doubleheader between the Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. Many had come to see the explosion rather than the games and rushed onto the field after the detonation. The playing field was so damaged by the explosion and by the rioters that the White Sox were required to forfeit the second game to the Tigers. [...] The popularity of disco declined significantly in late 1979 and 1980. Many disco artists carried on, but record companies began labeling their recordings as dance music. [...] Rolling Stone critic Dave Marsh described Disco Demolition Night as "your most paranoid fantasy about where the ethnic cleansing of the rock radio could ultimately lead". Marsh was one who, at the time, deemed the event an expression of bigotry, writing in a year-end 1979 feature that "white males, eighteen to thirty-four are the most likely to see disco as the product of homosexuals, blacks, and Latins, and therefore they're the most likely to respond to appeals to wipe out such threats to their security. It goes almost without saying that such appeals are racist and sexist, but broadcasting has never been an especially civil-libertarian medium." Nile Rodgers, producer and guitarist for the disco-era band Chic,

(who survived the disco era to make half the music I loved in the '80s)

likened the event to Nazi book burning. Gloria Gaynor, who had a huge disco hit with "I Will Survive," stated, "I've always believed it was an economic decision—an idea created by someone whose economic bottom line was being adversely affected by the popularity of disco music. So they got a mob mentality going."

The DJ who ran the whole thing, Steve Dahl, complains that it was VH1 itself—you know, those Behind the Music specials I was watching—circa 1996 that labeled the whole debacle as bigotry when it so totally was not, you guys, and he is so tired of defending himself. But I'm gonna tell you, Steve, I don't really care. Maybe Disco Demolition Night was your fault; maybe you were just a part of something so much bigger and uglier that you couldn't see the whole size of it. Can you draw a direct line from the weird bigoted vitriol directed at those dance records to Ronald Reagan, elected the very next year, not giving a single fuck about the AIDS crisis? You probably don't want to, but I will.

And I don't care because I can look around the U.S. right now and tell you, nearly 45 years later, people are trying to demolish a lot more than disco. The Club Q shooter was sentenced to life in prison just a few hours ago. It's Pride Month, and we're all sitting here holding our breaths. That's a terrible way to end a post about a beautiful happy song I love, I guess, unless you turn it around and say, that should have been the whole point of this post in the first place. Listen to this song and think, people wanted to destroy this music, this sound, this joy for some reason. They want to stop people from just living their lives, from dancing. And yet, disco is still here. It was there in 1979, and it was there when Donna Summer released this song in 1989, and it was there when she returned in 1999. The Queen of Disco passed away in 2012, and it's still here. I feel a lot of joy when I listen to this song, but I don't think I'd ever thought about it being the joy of grooving with something just because it’s beautiful, the joy of just being here, still.

[spectrs]

unwavering comfort

marc spector x gn!reader (slight steven grant x gn!reader and jake lockley x gn!reader)

after a particularly tough and grueling mission, you offer to help marc with the injuries he sustained. even with his initial reluctance, he can't bring himself to continue pushing you away from him.

WARNINGS - mentions of blood and injuries

WORD COUNT - 3.4k

i'm depressed once again (it's because of tlou which is something i HOPEFULLY will be writing for soon) and i've been needing to write for marc, so this is what we have. this man needs someone comforting him so badly it's actually insane. anyways, i hope y’all enjoy it <33 (also someone please let me know if this shit makes sense)

P.S - this takes place in chicago since i rarely see anything with the moon boys in my city (yes i live in chicago)

You had been waiting all night for the sound of the front door opening.

Your back was stiff and the noise from the bustling city below kept you from falling asleep, but at some point during the night you dozed off, only stirring when you heard Marc's keys clink against the doorknob as he gently pushed the door open. Your body immediately jumped into action and you stood up quickly, rushing to the door.

The first thing you noticed was how tired he looked. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent and his shoulders were slumped, a major contrast to the way he usually held himself with confidence. He had barely walked two steps into your apartment before he dropped his duffle bag and slumped against the wall, sighing wearily and closing his eyes.

You rushed to his side, knowing he would argue if you helped, but you didn't care. You gently grabbed his arm and directed him to the couch you laid on not even a minute ago. He clumsily sat down and groaned, the sound sending chills down your spine. You ignored it and pulled a chair next to him, already grabbing the things you'd gathered that afternoon for his arrival.

Even though your hands were busy with the task in front of you, your eyes couldn't help but wander to Marc's beat-up body, patches of his shirt and jacket caked in blood.

You knew the suit helped with the injuries he sustained during missions, but it wasn't capable of healing them fully. You were reminded of that every time you saw his bare body, his skin littered with scars from slashes and bullet wounds.

You reached up and your fingers skimmed the edge of his shirt, then grabbed it fully and took it off his body. He stayed silent, his eyes directed to the ground. He flinched as your hands traveled across the newly opened cuts and his shoulders tensed when you placed your warm hands on his skin. You felt his hand push yours away, and you looked up to see him staring at you.

“I don’t need your help. I’ve done this before on my own.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “Even in a state like this?”

“Believe it or not, I can take care of myself.”

“Well,” you said, grabbing a plastic bottle of alcohol from the table. “Did you know you don’t always have to?”

He didn’t say anything. He let his eyes fall to the ground again, his body still alert and rigid. You made quick work of disinfecting the lacerations on his chest, then grabbed from the assortment of bandages. “So,” you started. “What did Khonshu have you doing this time?”

“Just a simple extraction.”

“Simple, my ass. How come you’re so beat up?”

“It went sideways.”

You sighed, letting go of the bandage in your hand and looking up at him. “How long will it take before you trust me, Marc?”

He turned to you, a hint of surprise behind the stoic mask. “What?”

“How long have we been together?”

He looked at you for a moment before answering. “About a year.”

“I understand you’ve had a tough life. I may not know much else, but I know that. I just want you to know that you don’t have to hide anything you don’t want others to know. I love you and I trust you. You have to do the same.”

He huffed, standing up and pushing your hands away. “Listen, I don’t expect you to understand what I’ve been through. But I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help with anything.”

“Marc, this is exactly what I’m talking about!” You stood up as well, an exasperated look on your face. While it was true you didn’t know exactly what he’d been through, you desperately needed him to know he didn’t have to suffer in silence like he had his whole life. It truly hurt you to see him shut his feelings away, especially after Steven and Jake warned you about his “coping skills.”

He scoffed. “This is what I’ve done my whole life. You aren’t going to change that.” A moment of silence. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, but you weren't even sure if he realized that because he never stopped talking.

"Maybe it's easier for Steven and Jake to accept this kind of thing, but not me. I don't care how hard you try. I don't care if you try to pressure me into it or even get Steven and Jake. I don't need your help with this. I don't need your help with anything."

When he was done, the only signs of his pure irritation were the emotionless pits of his eyes and the downward curl of his mouth as he glared at you. You felt your jaw clench and your nails dig harshly into your palms. It felt like he took pride in visibly hurting you, seeing your eyes well at the sound of his resistance towards your help.

God, it didn't even feel like he loved you.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't sure if you didn't feel the way he did.

“Well, since you’re so fucking adamant about doing this yourself, then take it." you spat. You gathered the things on the table and walked past him, thrusting them into his arms.

"I'm going to bed." Those last words were a mutter, and you couldn't bring yourself to care if he'd heard them or not. You walked into your room and slammed the door, letting the tears spill from your eyes. You slowly walked over to the bed and lowered yourself on it, letting the anger overcome you. The same sounds from the streets below that prevented you from falling asleep did the opposite this time, slowly sending you to sleep. You felt the salty tears staining your cheeks and the pillow, but you didn’t care.

You really did want to help Marc. You just didn’t know how. You felt helpless, angry at yourself because you felt like you were allowing him to suffer on his own.

You woke to a soft rustling behind you. It was barely morning, the sun slightly peeking through the windows. Based on the gentle grip his hands had around your waist, you assumed it was Steven. His head was nestled into the crook of your neck and his breathing was steady. You lay there for a moment, savoring the peace, then slowly got up. You lifted his arm from your waist, but it gripped you tighter. You let out a small laugh, feeling his eyes open and his mouth curl into a smile.

“Good morning, love.”

“Good morning, Steven,” you said, turning around to look at him. His curls were roused and his eyes weren’t fully opened, but other than that he looked content. You brought your hand up to his face, letting your hands rub against the stubble growing on his cheek.

“How’s Marc doing?”

He sighed. “He forced Jake to take the body after your… confrontation last night. Neither of us has talked to him since.” His voice held a hint of pity, and you regretted bringing Marc up.

“Why doesn’t he trust me?”

“He does, he just can’t bring himself to…”

You raised your eyebrows at him in question. “Can’t bring himself to what?”

“He just… doesn’t know how to deal with-”

He stopped talking, his eyes suddenly darting to the reflection in the window. He nodded slightly, closed his eyes, then opened them again. You smiled, realizing who was in control of the body.

“Hi, Jake.”

“Hello, cariño. I needed Steven to give me the body for a moment, but he’ll be back.”

“Is that what you were telling him?”

“Yes. Now, continuing his explanation, Marc doesn’t know how to deal with someone actually caring for him. I’m sure you already know of his brother’s death, his mother’s extreme abuse, and his father’s ignorance, so I’ll just-”

“Wait, what?”

He gave you an odd look before speaking. “You didn’t know about that?”

“No, I didn’t know…” you confirmed, eyes wide with shock.

“He never told you that much?” His voice mimicked your expression, pure surprise.

“He never really bothered to get that specific.”

“Mierda, this is worse than I thought. I would’ve assumed he’d told you that much, I didn’t think he’d be so vague.”

“Well, he was.”

He sighed, his arms tightening around your waist. You knew how painful it was for Jake to witness Marc go through so much abuse. You had a vague idea of how DID develops, so you'd always assumed he had some traumatic event from his childhood. Pity always filled your heart at the thought of that. You also knew Jake's purpose was to protect Marc from any further abuse.

"Cariño?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

“Are you sure?”

You nodded your head in response.

“Jake, tell me how to help Marc. I can’t stand seeing him suffer in silence, not when he’s been doing it his whole life.”

A sigh left his mouth, and you felt his thumbs start to rub circles into your hips.

“If I’m being honest, I’m not sure how you can help. Even we can’t half the time.” His voice sounded heavy with remorse, as if it was his fault Marc was feeling this way. Your hand, still on his cheek, caressed his skin and jaw, and you felt him lean into your touch.

"The times you are able to help him, how do you do it?”

That conversation happened two days ago, and now you found yourself in a similar place compared to the night the situation occurred. You were curled up on the couch, an old movie playing in the background. You paid no attention to it, your eyes glued to your phone. The time jumped out at you like an ongoing alarm, the numbers reading 2:01 in the morning.

The last time you saw any of them was five hours earlier when Jake pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and told you he was going out for a drink. He’d denied your company, saying he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you if he drank too much. You had a feeling that he was lying, that he was actually going out to help Marc by using his drunken state to convince him to let you help him. If he suspected you knew, he didn’t say anything, instead grabbing his beaten newsboy cap and waving you goodbye as he walked out the door.

You convinced yourself they’d be fine, and as soon as they left, you opened your bottle of rum and sat yourself down on the couch. Your goal was to try and relax after the past three days of stress. It worked for the first couple of hours, the liquor loosening your muscles and allowing your mind to wander happily. After the four-hour mark, you started to worry a bit. Normally they’d be back at this hour, the odor of mixed alcohol and the sound of the running shower filling the apartment. Now, you were frightened.

Their ability to fight and defend themselves was extraordinary, but they were still affected by alcohol. You didn’t know how well they fought when they were drunk or high, but you had a feeling it wasn’t useful. That, among other things, was what led you to this, hunched over and eyes attached to the glowing screen.

You jumped as you heard the clinking of keys on the other side of the door, paranoia flooding your senses. When the door opened and the strong smell of whiskey came breezing through, you rid yourself of the paranoia and rushed to grab Marc before he fell.

You remember how scared you felt the first time he came home like this, stumbling and slurring his speech. That was when you discovered his past addiction and how hard he’d been trying to keep it in the past, finding out from Steven profusely apologizing the next morning for Marc’s relapse. You never said anything about it to Marc, finally mentioning it when he had apologized for it.

This time, it didn’t feel the way it normally did. Of course, he’d be irritable, but at some point, he’d tell you he was okay and that you didn’t need to worry about him. Now, as your hands wrapped around his bicep to pull him up, he shook it out of your grasp and stumbled across the room. It shouldn’t have hurt you to see him do that, but you felt a pang of hurt as you watched him.

“How much did you drink?”

He scoffed. “If you want to help, you can fuck off.”

“Answer my question, Marc.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? Jake was the one who was fronting at the bar.” His speech was slurred slightly and he looked exhausted. You felt another pang of emotion, but it wasn’t pain or anger. It was guilt.

“Why are you so upset with me?”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I haven’t seen you since the night you got back.”

He sighed, visible irritation lacing his voice. "Look, can we just talk about this in the morning?"

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not letting you walk away from me just to have you disappear again. I'm not fucking letting that happen."

"So, what? What do you need from me that's so goddamn important right now?"

"You know exactly what."

"I don't. Indulge me."

"Stop being a dick.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for not knowing what you’re talking about. Just tell me so we can move on.”

You scoffed, appalled by how avoidant he was being. “Why are you so upset with me?”

“Is that what’s so important?”

“Marc, please just talk to me. I don’t want to see you suffering like this.”

Another scoff, but this time it came from him. “What do you know about what I’ve been through? I haven’t told you anything.”

“Jake did.”

He paused, his eyes refusing to go anywhere except your face, darting around to find any sense of lying. Your face remained the way it was, unsmiling and glaring in his direction. You prayed this would work, not knowing what else to do if it didn’t.

“What?”

“He told me everything. I never asked him to and he just assumed you’d already told me, but I guess we were both wrong on that account.”

Now, he stood silent. His body was visibly tense, his hands and jaw clenching.

“What did he say?” The venom in his voice almost made you laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you said you didn’t give a shit if I tried to get them to help me.”

Silence again. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you’d run away with the look of pure rage on his face. He wouldn’t act on it, no matter who it was directed towards. You knew he would just hide again, let Steven or Jake take control, and abandon them for a while, just to let things calm down. You were determined not to let that happen anymore. He couldn’t continue pushing away until every suppressed emotion became too much to bear.

You looked at him, his expression and demeanor unchanged. He wasn’t looking at you, but his attention was directed towards a mirror, making it clear he was talking to one of the others. You studied him carefully, watching the way his eyes moved to the floor in shame, almost, then back up to whoever was speaking. Then, finally, he turned to stare at you. You were shocked to find his eyes slightly glossed over, and he said nothing as he gently grabbed your wrist and sat you down.

“Listen… I don’t exactly know how to begin this since I don’t really do this-”

He stopped as you took his hands in yours, gently rubbing the rough skin. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Tell me as much as you think you need to.”

He sighed and looked down at the floor. “I don’t want you to pity me.”

“I could never.”

He looked up, his eyes holding so many emotions it made you want to cry. You truly wanted his suffering to end, to let him know he could trust you. At this point, you weren’t even sure if he did. If anything, you were hoping this could prove the presence of his trust.

“Did Jake go into detail?”

“No, he was brief about it.”

“Hm. Well,” he started. “I had a younger brother, Randall. When I was younger, I convinced him to come into this cave with me. I didn’t know about the rain. He…” His eyes were fully glossed over now, his expression making it seem like he was about to burst into tears. You squeezed his hands slightly, silently urging him to continue.

“He drowned that day. I don’t think my mother ever forgave me for killing him. After his shiva, she would shut herself in her room and just drink away. I can’t remember a time after that I haven’t seen a bottle in her hands. Of course, I couldn’t do anything about it, since she would scream every time she looked at me. Always claiming it was my fault and accusing me of being jealous, knowing I’d do something like that. She started that bullshit on my birthday, and I ran away. That was when…”

“You made up Steven.”

“Yeah. Everything’s a blur after that. Yelling, arguments, beatings. I wasn’t even sure when Jake came into the picture. At some point, I left. My dad tried to make me stay but I couldn’t bring myself to. That’s when I joined the Marines, then became a mercenary. The rest you already know.”

You took a minute to take in everything he told you. God, if only you had known beforehand. You would’ve been so happy to help him, to help him through whatever leftover emotions he had from his childhood. You kept your mouth shut for a second, not wanting to say anything.

“It’s not your fault, Marc."

The whole time, he’d been looking everywhere but you. It was like he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye and admit everything he’d buried away. But at your words, he looked up.

“What?”

“You were a kid, you didn’t know what would happen. Sure, your mother was grieving, but she had no fucking right to take it out on you."

He scoffed. “He was my responsibility.”

“And you did what you could. She or your father shouldn’t have let you go off on your own, not at that age and especially considering where you lived. Chicago is a dangerous place.”

“But she still-”

“You don’t have to listen to her anymore. I don’t know if she’s dead or not, but I don’t care. If she’s still around, I’m making sure you never have to go near her again. I promise.”

He was silent for a moment, letting your words sink in and burrow themselves into his brain. Almost all his life, he’d only known pain. Maybe the first few years were okay, but that day in the cave made his life absolute hell. He had never done this with Steven or Jake or Layla. He thought he couldn’t trust them enough. Now that he finally found someone who would listen and care for him and love him, his life suddenly wasn’t so bad.

He didn’t realize the small tears running down his face. He only knew when you slowly pressed your lips to his cheek and kissed them away. When you pulled back, he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the universe.

“God, what did I do to deserve you?”

You smiled at him and said, “Everything you’ve done for me, baby.”

A smile crept onto his face and he pushed you back against the couch. Confused, you lay down with a puzzled expression, but it turned into a look of love as he lay against you, his head between your legs. You smiled, letting your hands run through his hair and feeling the way he leaned into your touch. This was what you wanted. You didn’t want him shut away. You wanted him like this, truly comfortable and content around you.

“Marc?” His name was barely above a whisper, but he preened his head to look at you.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He smiled, grabbing your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to it.

“I love you too, baby.”

TAGS - @low-keylover @logans-soulmate

[flailypichu]

I'm not done talking about Call of the Wild, holy shit. I can't believe this finale has just been out there for decades and I'm only just now watching something that was clearly written for me specifically.

There's so little build up to the finale, and that's fine. A lot of shows vaguely know they're ending and wrap everything up in a few episodes. BUT.

For a show that didn't wrap up everything they sure did make Ray and Fraser the guiding force in each other's futures. Every conversation Fraser has about people's feelings for him Ray is not only present, but quite literally standing between both him and the other person. Ray realizes he doesn't have anything to go back to in Chicago and that he likes who he is with Fraser better than who he is without. Fraser stands in the middle of a snow field with only Ray by his side and declares he's home.

And the ending! The show deemed it unimportant that we know if either of them quit their jobs (which for Fraser who's job has been a calling, would be huge) to go on this adventure, but it's important to know they're together! And something about the fact that Fraser refers to Ray as Ray, and then corrects it to Stanley Kowalski hits so hard. Ray (who by all accounts does prefer to go by Ray) has been so worried about who he'll be when he's not Ray Vecchio anymore, that to have Fraser specifically call him by his distinct name when talking about how they ran away together is so tender.

And I can't get over the casual intimacy of the touch to the shoulder as Ray is getting settled in the dog sled. It lingers a bit longer than I expected it to.

Okay, that's it for now but as I consume 24 years of fanfiction I'm sure there will be more.

[wormdebut]

25 for the Spotify thing? 👀❤️

HYPE HYPE HYPE. Good Morning Lovely. #25 on my spotify wrapped is If You Can't Hang by Sleeping With Sirens. Enjoy Steve being a confused L-7 Weenie.

----

Met a girl at seventeen, thought she meant the world to me. So, I gave her everything. She turned out to be a cheat…

----

Steve doesn't really do relationships. He'd tried that. Once. In high school.

Nancy Wheeler.

But apparently Steve was bullshit, bullshit, bullshit and replaceable.

So? No relationships.

He had been fine on his own. He went to school, crawled his way to graduating and then he worked. He worked and worked and he met a girl. Thought maybe he could--maybe they could--but, Robin was gay and Steve was Steve.

It had been a few years since Robin had graduated, the year after Steve had and now Steve wasn't alone.

He had Robin. Robin, who loved him even though he was shitty in high school. Robin, who didn't judge him for being scared of--no. He wasn't scared of love. He just didn't believe in it. He had Robin and that was all the love that he needed.

They moved to Chicago. Just Steve and Robin and their shitty two bedroom apartment. Things were good for a while.

But now Robin had Chrissy. Cause Robin was normal, and Robin believed in love.

Steve was happy for them. Really he was.

But Robin had Chrissy and Chrissy had a best friend too. Chrissy had Eddie.

Steve did not like Eddie.

Eddie was loud and brash and impulsive and--

And and and.

----

"Stevie!" Eddie calls from the other side of the apartment door. Steve sighs. Robin was out with Chrissy and somehow Eddie had found his way to the apartment, again.

He pulls the door open, one hand perched on his hip. "Eddie." He deadpans, and Eddie smiles. Toothy and wide. His smile was too big for his stupid pretty face--not, no. Not pretty, because Steve did not like Eddie. It's not the Steve liking guys thing, that's the issue. Steve had figured that shit out about himself a long time ago. He just didn't like Eddie.

Eddie keeps on smiling. Even though Steve treats him like absolute trash, anytime he comes over. Eddie just won't quit. It's like he needs them to be friends. So their best friends are girlfriends? It doesn't mean that Steve and Eddie have to like each other.

"The girls are out, and Chrissy and I's house is boring when it's just me. I thought we could have a beer or smoke or--something?" Eddie asks, pulling his stupid pretty hair in front of his stupid pretty face.

"So--our friends are out on a date and you decided to crash my apartment because your bored?" Steve scoffs. "Don't you have any other friends?"

Something crosses Eddie's face. He looks sad, but only for a moment, before he shakes his head, smirking at Steve. "Don't you?"

Steve would like to say that he slammed the door in Eddie Munson stupid, pretty, face. But he didn't and now they were a few beers and a joint in and Eddie was staring.

"Ed, what? Why are you looking at me like that?" Steve smacks his shoulder and Eddie just takes a drag from his joint, breathing the smoke out right in Steve's face, before cocking his head.

"Looking at you like what, Stevie?"

Steve swings his hand through the air, trying to get the smoke to disperse. Asshole. He huffs, "Looking at me like, you fucking know me."

Eddie smirks, handing the joint over, and Steve takes it, breathes in the smoke. He's closes his eyes, everything is fine. Fine and chill and cool and fine.

When he opens them again, Eddie's eyes are staring right into him. This is why Steve can't fucking stand Eddie Munson.

Eddie is still smirking, big brown eyes sparkling with mirth, when he says, "Don't I?"

Steve tears his own eyes away, stubbing out the joint. "No. You don't. And even if you did, I--I'm not--I'm bullshit." He whispers, and his voice may have cracked and this isn't right. This isn't supposed to happen.

Eddie is soft when he reaches out, running his fingers over the back of Steve's hand. "I don't think so."

Steve should probably pull his hand away. He should, but he doesn't want to.

He sighs, staring at Eddie's hand over his own. "It's you might not, but--it's a long story." He flicks his eyes up. Eddie is still fucking look at him. Into his stupid soul.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Eddie asks, eyes sparkling. God Steve hates…He doesn't hate Eddie Munson, does he?

"Tell you about what?"

"Everything. Tell me about your life, Steve Harrington. I've got time."

Turns out Steve does do relationships. Well, he does relationship. Turns out, he truly doesn't like Eddie Munson. He loves him.

----

Met a boy at twenty-three, knew he meant the world to me. So, I gave him everything and he did the same for me. Imagine that.

[elly99]

pho-ever

Hanni was in Chicago for Lollapalooza. Just over five years ago she sat next to you everyday at school. Hanni was a Gucci ambassador. But in one of her pictures you see her wearing the socks you got for her way back when.

You were surprised to say the very least. It had been quite a while since you'd stopped communicating regularly. Maybe the occasional birthday greeting or 'how are you' only for things to fizzle out after a few days. Though you missed how it used to be, when not a day went by where you weren't talking, you understood that your lives were very different now. But still you wonder why she would do this now after all this time.

Would it be worth asking her? You did miss her after all. Why not ask an old friend how she was doing? You had nothing better to do at 3 in the morning.

"hey hanni! just wanted to ask you how you've been doing. i know you're probably quite busy right now so no worries if you can't reply right away. chookas for tomorrow!!"

You were going to leave it there and try to get some sleep, but to your astonishment she replies almost immediately.

"heeeyyy!! thank you!! i'm doing great! just a little nervous for tomorrow but i know it'll be fun. it's so nice hearing from you again!! how have you been? i was thinking about you recently"

"oh really? cuz i saw you posted a picture with those socks"

"yeah man! i'm never gonna lose these!! they mean a lot to me"

That hit somewhere deep in your heart.

"really?"

"what do you mean really? don't act surprised!!"

"well i am! i mean we don't talk as much as we used to. and you haven't been back in melbourne for so long"

"doesn't mean i'd forget about one of my best friends!"

"you still consider me that?"

"of course! don't you?"

"pho-ever hahaha"

"pho-ever ❤️"

You take a minute to think about what to say next.

"hey hanni honestly the real reason i texted was because i've been missing you a lot recently. i went through high school and i'm in uni now but after you left i just never had another friend like you. nobody ever got me like you did. and i know we've changed and grown up a lot since then but i feel like you'd still get me. you've always been special to me. so yeah i've just been feeling a little lonely lately"

Instantly you regret sending something so heavy. And your worry only builds as the minutes go by without a reply. But she surprises you for the third time that night. Because she's calling.

"Hey, brooo! It's been so long! It's good to see you again!"

You'd seen so many photos and videos of her since she debuted but there was something so strange about seeing her like this on your screen. She was the perfect juxtaposition of dazzling stardom and warm, nostalgic familiarity. She was still the Hanni you loved from all those years ago but it felt like you were meeting her for the first time again.

"Sup, bro," you chuckle. "It's good seeing you, too! I wasn't expecting you to call. Sorry I look like a mess. It's 3 AM."

"Oh, yeah! It's really late for you! Well, I just wanted to call quickly to say that I miss you a lot, too. You know being here in Chicago has had me thinking a lot. Like, it's hard to believe that I've come so far and I'm really so grateful and honored."

"But you deserve it, Hanni! You've worked so hard to get where you are now. I'm so proud of you, by the way."

"Aw, thanks, man! But, yeah. Sometimes I find myself missing the simpler days. Everything's moving so fast now and sometimes I just wanna go back to the old days of just messing around at school. With you and all our old friends. That's why I wore those socks. Just to remind myself of where I came from. Of all the people that are so important to me."

You catch yourself tearing up at her words.

"Hey, Hanni, we didn't ever say 'I love you' to each other, did we? I don't think that's something we ever said to each other. I mean, kids don't really have a good grasp of that, right? But as I grew older and realized just how important you were to me, I was like, 'Yeah, I love this girl.' So, yeah. Just thought I should say that," you laugh nervously at your sudden confession.

"And I love you, too! I guess my way of saying that back then was sitting next to you everyday," she laughs with you, her radiant smile easing your nerves. "I know I haven't been able to visit in years and I'm really sorry about that! But I promise as soon as I'm able I'll come see you. I'm also sorry I haven't kept in touch as much recently but I hope you know I think about you a lot. I'm sure when we meet up again it'll be like nothing changed. We can go back to singing What Makes You Beautiful like there's no tomorrow."

"God, I miss that."

You make eye contact and you recognize her look just as she recognizes yours.

"BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE!!!"

This time you laugh together and it really was as if nothing had changed.

"Speaking of what makes you beautiful, you should go get your beauty sleep. It's so late!"

"You're right. I should at least try to be a functioning human, right? But thanks so much for calling, Hanni. I really appreciate it. You're the best."

"Hey, no problem, man! I really missed hearing your voice. Reminds me of home."

You have no answer for her sweetness.

"And whenever you feel lonely, remember I'm always here, ok? Just text me any time! I'm always here for you. I'll do my best to send you my own updates from time to time as well."

"Alright, will do, bro. Have fun tomorrow! I know you're gonna devour it."

"I'll do my best!"

"You always do. See ya, Hanni!"

"Good night! Get lots of sleep, have sweet dreams and eat well tomorrow! Love yaaa!"

She was too good for the world.

After the call you smile to yourself in the dark. Deep down you knew that, no matter how much time passed or how much distance there was between the two of you, you both still had a piece of each other in your hearts. Since she left years ago she had gotten herself new jeans but she'd keep those old socks pho-ever.