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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

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Becoming a Home

2.2k || ao3

Carlos Reyes had always wanted his house to be a home. Moving out and buying a house of his own showed him that was more difficult than he had thought and in time he came to accept that maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for him. Until a certain Firefighter barreled his way into his life, that is. Now he thinks they might just be on their way there.

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Day 1 of @911lonestarweek: “You’re the only one for me” + Romance

This was inspired by a fic that @justaswampdemon has been working on because I love the idea but while her’s is funny (and wonderful, you’ll all need to read it while it’s done) I wanted to do something a little more introspective.

Beta’d by @silvarafael

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Carlos Reyes had grown up in a home, not a house.

His mother had always been purposeful to make it so. Their home was always filled to the brim with family, laughter, food, and love. Carlos could scarcely remember a day in which their home had ever been silent. He knew for a fact that it had never felt cold, that not once had it ever been impersonal. It had always been a comfort; perpetually warm and welcoming.

When he had moved out, had settled down in a house of his own; he had strived to do the same. But despite his best efforts, it turned out to be more difficult than he had imagined. He opened his doors and his heart and waited, hoping to replicate that same feeling; that same warmth. Friends and dates and boyfriends filtered through, coming and going from time to time without ever leaving any mark behind.

Even Michelle - his most frequent visitor - floated in and out, never really seeming to settle. She was comfortable there, sure; but Michelle Blake was comfortable everywhere she went. Carlos didn’t take it personally. He knew more than most how much she had going on and where her mind was when it was somewhere else. He told himself all these fleeting interactions were fine, that he preferred it that way; that he appreciated the silence and solitude.

He almost believed it too.

He settled into a rhythm, learned to love the peace and quiet. It gave him time to focus on him; to explore the things that he loved. He read more books, he blasted his music, he tried new recipes. He even enjoyed it; this time to himself. But the desire for more, for that familiar warmth of a home was always there, a thought always relegated to the back of his mind. But what he had was fine, it would do for now.

Enter TK Strand, who blew up Carlos’s entire existence without even trying.

At first, it’s no different from the others: he comes and goes; quick hookups and frantic kisses before he’s back out the door and Carlos is left trying to catch his breath. Then Carlos tries to do too much too soon and even those hookups are over, for a while.

Eventually, they find their way back to each other and though it is tentative and careful, it’s something, Carlos is sure of it. The hookups become less frantic, the time spent lingering increases. TK is there more and more often and maybe, just maybe, it feels right.

Then the universe interrupts with a bang - literally.

The day TK is shot Carlos came home from the hospital to his empty condo and does not think he has ever hated the silence more. He and TK may not have a label but they are something and now TK is hurt and Carlos doesn’t know what to do with himself, with all this pain in his heart.

He leaned against the door, trying not to remember how they had woken up together just this morning - an occurrence that was becoming more and more frequent. It was becoming common enough that Carlos was almost optimistic enough to hope that it would be a sign of things to come.

But that couldn’t happen if TK was dead.

He banished that thought from his head as he pushed himself off the door and strode purposefully towards the kitchen. No, he wouldn’t even let himself think it; he wouldn’t even put that idea out into the universe. What he needed was a distraction, something to focus on that wasn’t the thought of TK in a coma, that wasn’t the memory of hearing the gunshot and just knowing that something was wrong.

Dwelling on it wouldn’t do him any good, he knew that. He needed a distraction and so he gravitated to the kitchen, as he so often did. He would make bread, he decided: something labor-intensive and precise. Besides, the idea of kneading something was appealing right now.

He set about pulling out the ingredients, steadying his breathing as he went. He reminded himself that he had every reason to be optimistic, that there was no real reason to expect the worst. TK had received treatment immediately, had been rushed to the hospital within minutes. He had everything going for him; as much as someone who had been shot could, at least. It worked, if even only a little.

Then he turned to the sink to get the water he would need for the dough, and the sight of two coffee mugs - sitting innocently side by side, waiting to be washed - almost toppled him.

He remembered now the quick moment where he had slid them into the sink before he and TK had walked out the door. He could see TK’s grin as he sipped from his mug clear as day, raising his eyebrows suggestively as Carlos had lamented that if they had gotten moving sooner they could have had time for breakfast too. He had fired back some quip about them choosing exercise over food that had caused Carlos to laugh, nearly choking on his coffee in the process.

The image in his head of that moment was filled with a warmth he had felt more and more. It was the feeling he had been seeking all along, the sensation he had always wanted to feel from his home. He had been starting to feel the beginnings of it with TK. He didn’t want to lose that; he didn’t want to lose him. He was so close to having the home that he wanted, the life that he had pictured for himself was in reach.

But it had become increasingly more apparent to Carlos that a certain firefighter was an integral part of the equation. He had been trying for years only to find that there had been a missing piece all along.

Carlos didn’t know what it was: his laughter, his smile, his voice or maybe a little bit of everything. What was certain was that TK made his house feel like home. He had brought mess and noise into his otherwise clean and orderly life and Carlos knew without a doubt that it was exactly what he had needed. He didn’t want to lose that, he didn’t think he could handle it. After so long he had finally found exactly what he had been looking for. He just needed someone or something in the universe to listen, to take pity. He just needed TK to be okay.

Everything after that would be fine, Carlos was sure of it.

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Someone in the universe must have been listening because TK is okay, in the end. And after a bit of confusion, so are they.

More than okay actually, in Carlos’s opinion. They wanted to start fresh but having already laid all of the foundations, it was no time at all before they fell into comfortable patterns. That warmth Carlos had noticed and longed for returned and it filled his home with every laugh and smile the other man shared.

TK became more of a fixture at the condo; stuck waiting outside for Carlos to get home enough that Carlos gave him a key. He jokes it’s so that the neighbors won’t call the cops about a suspicious man loitering, but really it’s an offering; a stepping stone. A gesture to say that he hopes that maybe this could be TK’s home too, someday.

Slowly his things started joining Carlos’s: a change of clothes in the drawer, his running shoes by the door. A cheesy figurine TK had brought for Carlos as a joke, a vase they had bought at the farmer’s market because TK thought it would look nice in the entryway. The charger for his AirPods in the kitchen and the change from his pocket on the nightstand. Small and inconsequential bits of his life maybe, but tangible proof that TK had been here and that he planned to come back.

Soon it is not just TK’s things filling the space but his friends as well. Carlos had offered to host them all once the pandemic hit as a way to maintain some sense of normalcy. He hadn’t been sure what to expect with inviting an entire fire station into his condo (though he did have a private laugh at the look of horror he could picture from his dad, the Texas Ranger, at the very thought) but the sound of laughter and casual banter-filled his kitchen and his heart in a way he had almost forgotten.

It wasn’t long before his friends became their friends and that warmth he had been chasing for so long lingered more and more. He felt it in the sound of laughter and light conversation, he felt the heat of it lingering as he and TK lay in each other’s arms on the couch, stealing a moment of solitude before they cleaned up from the evening's festivities.

It’s on one such night, while they were cleaning up, that Carlos noticed TK was quieter than usual. They worked in companionable silence but Carlos stole glances at the other man as he put away the clean dishes, trying to decipher the storm in his head. Minutes passed and Carlos was about to ask what was on his mind when TK spoke.

“Your house must have been so quiet, before.”

Carlos looked up from the sink with a start to see TK surveying the space thoughtfully. “I’m definitely sure there were no rowdy firefighters eating all your food.”

“You don’t know that,” Carlos countered, “maybe I had some secret firefighter friends before you came to town.”

“I don’t think so, babe,” TK retorted with a raised eyebrow, “firefighters are awful gossips, I would have heard”

“It has been a change,” Carlos agreed, thinking about the smile that had come across his face at the sound of laughter drifting through his living room and the sight of their friends smiling as he sat with his arms around TK on the couch just a few hours ago. It was so different from his life before, but in the best possible way.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather be with someone who didn’t bring this level of chaos to your life?” TK asked and though his tone was kept purposefully light Carlos could hear the doubt lurking directly behind the words.

“No,” Carlos said decisively, shutting off the water and turning to face TK, stepping forward and placing his hands on the other man’s hips, and meeting his eyes. They were so full of doubt that it caused a physical ache to shoot through Carlos’s core. He held them though as he said his next words very clearly, need to make sure TK understood that there was no doubt in his mind: “You’re the only one for me. Friends and all, no one else even comes close. You are it for me, Tyler Kennedy.”

There is silence in the wake of his words, but Carlos knows in his heart it is a different quiet than he had been so accustomed to. It wasn’t cold or impersonal, it didn’t echo with solitude and loneliness. It was a comfortable silence of two people coexisting; using the silence to hear each other, to grow. It was just another piece of the home he had been trying to build.

“I never liked the quiet,” he admitted, hands still on TK’s waist. “Growing up, our house was never quiet.”

“Mine always was,” TK confessed, “there was never anybody around to make it not be quiet. I hated it.”

His voice was soft as he admitted that and Carlos tightened his grip on his waist, pulling him closer.

“I never wanted my home to feel like that,” he told TK honestly. “All I have ever wanted is for my home to be full of warmth and laughter and love. I never had those until you came along. You’ve made my house into a home, Ty. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank you for that.”

When TK looked up to meet his eyes Carlos was startled to see that they were full of tears. He reached up a hand to cup Carlos’s face as he spoke: “You are home to me, Carlos. You have been for a while. If anything, I should be thanking you. What we have together? It’s more than I could have ever dreamed of. To know that you are happy is all I could ever ask for.”

Carlos leaned into TK’s touch, savoring the warmth and familiarity of it. He thought about the words TK had just shared and the key that he offered not so long ago. He saw a life for them together; filled with laughter and love and friends and family. He had been too afraid to ask, still wary from the early days when pushing had almost been their end, determined to not seek too much too soon and risk it all. But the way TK was holding his gaze left few questions in Carlos’s mind. All he would have to do is ask, and it would be done. He leaned in closer, capturing TK’s mouth in a kiss that he hoped conveyed the words he couldn’t say just yet, to tell him what he now knew.

Because this moment had made him sure: this was their home now and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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imaginarypeteel · 4 years ago

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Back In The Firehouse

Mateo Chavez x reader

Fandom: 911: Lone Star

Summary: You're a former member of the old 126. You survived the explosion but weren't as lucky as Judd. You're half deaf now and can't go on the field again but still want to see what the new station looks like.

Word count: 5k

You pushed your hair back as you stood in front of the new 126. You and Judd had kept some contact but you both had been too depressed and had grown distant.

You had grown used to your new life as someone with a hearing disability. Getting a new job was hard since you didn't like deskjob much and were more hands on type of person. So you became a social worker. Helping people with hearing disabilities.

You felt a tug on your left hand and looked down. Your aid dog, Prince - a massive mongrel who people often mistook as a Kangal shepherd - was looking at you. "Alright, let's go," you said as you started to walk towards the firehouse.

As you stepped in you realized how different this place was now. It was shiny and posh and everything that old 126 wasn't.

You thought you heard a call and got confirmed when Prince set his forepaw onto your knee. The woman looked around before doing a 180°.

There was a black guy in a firefighter uniform, "Hi! I'm Y/n L/n. I worked here before?" you smiled and introduced yourself.

"Oh! Hi, I'm Paul Strickland and I work here currently," he laughed lightly. "Care to introduce me to the new squad?" you asked with a grin. "Yeah sure, they're in the kitchen."

You followed Paul to the very modern looking kitchen.

The moment you stepped in, you saw a familiar face and before Paul could say anything, the person had seen you too. "Why look what the dog brought in," he grinned and walked up to you. The two of you did a bro hug. The fact that you're a girl didn't matter, you had always been more of a tomboy.

"Judson you corn-fed man are still in the line?" you laughed. "Well someone's gotta look over them."

"You gonna introduce your friend to us, Judd?" a beautiful woman with a hijab asked.

"Right, 126 Y/n L/n, Y/n 126," Judd said. "Well that's accurate," a man with nice blue eyes said with sarcasm and pushed forward, he stretched a hand out to you to shake it, "Captain Owen Strand."

The others in the room had all introduced themselves, you were ready to ask some questions but then their eyes switched to your left. The side you were deaf at. After the accident, you had greatly relied on reading people, so there was probably someone else beside you. You turned to your left and were met with a handsome young guy. His hand was stretched out and he looked shy and was a bit flushed. Probably because you hadn't acknowledged him before. "Sorry sorry, I didn't hear you," you apologized and shook his hand. "Uhm, it's okay, I'm Mateo...Chavez..." You give him a smile and turned back to the others.

Prince had met Buttercup and you could tell that he wanted to play with the fire dog, so you let him go but made sure to keep him in sight. You really needed him, were a little helpless without him.

"So how do you know Judd?" Marjan asked.

"I was a firefighter here before the accident," you explained with a sad smile. "Oh..." You took a deep breath. "Yeah, unlike this guy, I got away with yes life but I also lost ability to hear from my left ear - which is why I couldn't hear you," you looked at Mateo with apologetic eyes and he smiled shyly in return, "and my sight isn't as good in my left eye aswell, I mean I can still see from it but it's a bit blurry, that's all."

"That's why you have Prince?" TK asked with interest, you nodded as a reply.

~~~***~~~

You were teaching Buttercup some tricks with the help of Prince when the crew retreated from a call. By what the dispatcher said, it was a housefire and the smell of burning and sweat that drifted off them proved it.

"How'd it go?" you asked. "Phew," Marjan plopped into a seat near you, "Pretty good, saved a mother and two girls from a housefire," she said as she tried to call Buttercup over but the bernese mountain dog just jogged over to TK. "Oh come on! Does TK ever give you as many treats I do?"

Buttercup didn't react to it but Prince strolled over and sniffed her at the mention of treats. He was a smart dog.

"So guys, I'm going to a bar with Carlos tonight, wanna come with?" TK asked as he rubbed the big dog's chest. "Hmm... Sure, by the way, who's Carlos?" you asked as you yawned slightly. "My boyfriend," TK said proudly, making you nod with a smile. You for some reason had always become so happy at the mention of gay couples. You couldn't explain it. "I'll come too!" Mateo chirped. The others agreed to come too, Judd saying he'll take Grace along.

~~~***~~~

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Black leather pants tightly around your legs, white v-neck and a black leather jacket to cover it all. Fashion hadn't ever been really your thing. You were more of a 'throw on whatever's the cleanest' type but right now, you weren't against the idea of putting in at least some effort. Your hair was loose, that you were not going to change.

You couldn't drive because of your disabilities and couldn't take Prince to the bar, so all of this was making you anxious.

You noticed your phone vibrating on the counter and picked it up. Your Uber driver had arrived. You gave a confused Prince a concerned look. The dog had become a big part of your life and you relied on him a lot. Yes, you had a cat from your early twenties who was a big emotional support but outside, Prince was your rock.

You bent down and the big dog trotted over to you. "Take care of Disney, okay?" you said and kissed his forehead. Of course he didn't understand your words but he knew that you were leaving and not taking him with you, so he too was anxious.

You grabbed your keys and phone and went out the door, locking it.

~~~***~~~

"So Y/n," Mateo said as he sat on the stool beside you, nervously tapping on the bottle of beer. "Hm?" you hummed while taking a sip of whiskey.

"What do you do? Now that... you know," he trailed off awkwardly. "Yeah, I do," you smiled, "I help people with hearing disabilities. Whether kids who are born with it or people who have lost it during life. Help them get back on track and learn to live with it, maybe even give them the list of jobs they could still apply to. Sometimes I even recommend then and get them an interview," you explained.

"Oh wow, that's nice of you," he said while bobbing his head. "Says the guy who gets in all sorts of dangerous situations to save people," you laughed. Mateo smiled but not wide, "Well, actually the others do most of the work, I just lag behind mostly." You rose your brows at that, "Really? Pretty sure I saw you on TV once." The dark-haired man smiled wider at that. "I was just passing out water bottles. Our Captain was getting the real action though."

"Mhm, okay. My best friend was squealing when she saw you to be honest," you laughed at the memory.

~~~***~~~

"Y/n you're telling me you worked with guys like him back in the day?" Evely gasped as she was watching the news. You were just looking over some papers of one of your current patients'. "Hm?" you raised your head at the big screen before looking down again. "Not all of them are like that. Pretty sure he is just a probie," you murmured as a frown stretched on your face. "Oh wow, if a probie looks like that, I imagine what a fireman looks like," Evely moaned which had you cringing. "Caaalm down you little hoe."

The brunette shot you a look before returning to the man on the screen who was handing out water bottles. "Just look at those arms," she squealed.

~~~***~~~

"Really? What did you think of it?" he asked with excitement. "I wasn't really paying attention but while I was in the taxi and driving here, I remembered seeing you there," you grinned. Mateo's smile faltered at that before returning to the wide one. "So you were thinking about me while driving here?" he grinned slyly and moved his upper body closer to yours on the wooden bar. A small blush covered your cheeks and a grin stretched onto your face. Calm down, the kid is still young. Not like you were really old. No, you were just about to hit 30 but still.

"I think about lots of things while I have nothing to do so don't think you're so special," you chuckled and flicked his forehead. He flinched and rubbed his forehead while fake pouting at you.

Mateo's gaze flicked behind you and just as you decided to turn around, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You spun on the stool and came face to face with a familiar woman. "Grace!" you chirped and hugged the dispatcher. "Haven't seen you in a while, how you doing?" the dark-skinned woman asked as she set herself down on the stool beside you. "Well, I have a nice paying job that pays well. No one sick at the moment so medical bills are fine. Have been practicing some new tricks with Prince and well, I'm currently here."

The bartender asked Grace for her order before she could reply, "Porn Star, thank you. Judd?" the man didn't even waste a second before ordering a big glass of beer. You laughed at that and kept sipping your whiskey without any ice or water in it.

"So probie," Judd said as he waited for his beer, dragging Mateo's attention away from you, "Why you trying to swoon Miss Former Probie?" Grace and you giggled at that while Mateo's face changed color. "I-I um, I," the dark haired man stuttered. "I uh..."

"Oh leave him alone, Judd," Grace told her husband playfully.

"Here ya go," the bartender said as he pushed the couple's drinks in front of them. "Thank you," Grace smiled as she dragged the glass so it sat in front of her chest. Judd didn't waste a second to gulp some of his black beer down.

"Rough day? Then that might not be the best drink for that," you laughed while watching the man. He grinned and nodded, "I'm only starting right now, okay? By the end of the night, I'll be having a Bloody Mary with extra vodka and you know it."

~~~***~~~

The others soon started to arrive too. You talked with them yes but mostly spoke with Judd and Grace, Mateo came after them. You didn't realize how much you missed spending time with a fire squad until now and how much you missed your old crew. Luckily you easily rekindled with Judd. He had mostly been the person who taught you everything on the field which was also the reason why you were with him and not near the fire when the accident happened.

A few tears trailed downwards as you thought of your old crew. But then you felt someone touching your left shoulder. Spooked, you snapped your attention to the person, hair whipping at their face in the process. It was Mateo. "Sorry that I startled you!" he immediately apologized with sad puppy eyes. You smiled but rose your left brow when he frowned. "Oh God! Did I startle you that much that you had to cry? I am so so so sorry Y/n!" he apologized over and over again. You laughed lightly as you heard him.

While wiping away the tears with your left hand, you placed your right hand on his cheek, "No no, it isn't your fault. Just remembered....them." After wiping away the tears, your tipsy self looked at him with your head slightly tilted. You rubbed gentle circles on his cheek with your thumb while smiling fondly. He was staring at you with dark eyes full of surprise but hesitantly snuggled his cheek into your hand. "Hey Mateo," you said as you leaned closer to him. He mirrored your movements and started to lean closer, probably thinking he is going to get a kiss. "Wanna go dance?" you grinned at the slight disappointment in his face. He still nodded and got up on his two feet.

The rookie firefighter was surprised by how he swayed a bit and had to grab onto his stool to keep himself from falling over. "Overthought your alcohol tolerance?" you laughed while taking a small sip of the paloma you had ordered before leaping to stand by the younger man. You too had been too confident in yourself and stumbled lightly before regaining balance. "Whoopsies," you giggled and dragged your hair back behind your head with your hand. Mateo gave you a flirty grin while extending his hand, "M'lady? May I have this dance?" he asked while playfully bowing. You squealed at his act and grabbed his hand, "Why yes, kind sir," you replied, playing along. Mateo gripped your hand a bit tighter before going over to the place where Judd and Grace were dancing with only two other couples.

Judd shot a look at the rookie that went unnoticed by you. He on the other hand decided that dancing with you was much more important so he just grabbed a gentle hold of your hips and the two of you simply swayed to the jazz.

You leaned more into him and felt yourself wanting to fall asleep like this.

~~~***~~~

By the end of it, Mateo had escorted you home. Judd had indeed gotten that Bloody Mary he was talking about and had somehow made you get one too. 1. Your bank account didn't agree with this much. 2. Your mouth was on fucking fire. 3. You wanted milk and you wanted it now. 4. You felt sorta horny but sorta sleepy.

All that had resulted in you moaning at Mateo that you wanted to drink his milk while the two of you drove the taxi. Poor boy was very turned on but resisted it and decided to play innocent.

"I don't have any milk, Y/n. Yes, drop us here... I think. Is this your home?" the man asked you. You lazily turned your gaze outside of the window. Your left eye's sight was currently a complete foggy mess but the other one's was a semi blur. You just hummed even though you didn't really think it through and didn't even try to see the building.

Mateo helped you out of the uber and the two of you stood in front of a white building. You snuggled into the younger man who's arm was wrapped around your shoulder.

When you reached the front door, you resistantly left his cozy side and stepped closer to the door, pulling your keys out of the pocket.

"Okay, so, which apartment is yours?" the rookie asked as you let the front door of the apartment building close, fumbling with the keys, trying to understand which is which. When you didn't answer, he looked at you and was confused. Why weren't you answering?

He then realized that you were leaning on a wall, good ear facing it. He quickly walked over to you, "Y/n, you okay?" he asked with concern. "Yeah, yeah, the wall is just nicely cold." You let out a yawn, finally pushing yourself off the pure white wall. "Second floor," you said, starting to walk up the stairs. Mateo rushed after you and secured his left arm around your waist. He had slowed down on drinks and had even ordered a glass of water, so he was in much better condition than you.

When the two of you reached the second floor, you quickly dragged him to your apartment door. The moment you started jingling with the keys, Mateo heard a clatter of nails against stone floor.

When you opened it, a familiar golden colored giant barged into you and gave you floppy kisses while you laughed. "Ok boy, down," you ordered and the dog immediately followed. His innocent gaze trailed over to Mateo and he stalked to the man, sniffing him like a police K-9 searching for drugs.

"Come in, Matty," you giggled while watching him stand like he had just met gazes with Medusa. The man hesitantly stepped into your apartment and was about to proceed into the living room when you noticed that he was still wearing shoes. "Aaaah! No way! No way are you going anywhere past where I'm standing with your shoes on!" you yelled, startling the younger adult who flinched.

He froze before coming back to stand beside you while you glared at him with your e/c eyes, making him a bit nervous. Prince felt the change in the air and tensed. The big golden dog stepped in front of his owner and he too glowered at the rookie firefighter.

You cracked a small smile as you watched how the dark eyed man took his boots off.

The moment they were placed beside your other shoes, you loosened up, making your dog calmer too. In a matter of three seconds, you were in the kitchen with your pale grey socks letting you slide across the wooden floors.

Mateo placed himself on the couch where a calico cat came to inspect him. "Her name is Disney, while I was working as a firefighter, we found her in housefire. None of the people in the house claimed her as theirs. Probably because she was full of burns and in critical condition. Animal care ain't that cheap ya know. But my heart was hurting for her, so I decided to get her. I was like twenty or twenty-one I think. Don't regret it, she has always been a big emotional support for me," you told him while landing beside him with two glasses of water.

"Sounds lovely," Mateo nodded and took one of the glasses. "Indeed."

Disney climbed over to you and curled up on your chest. As she got comfortable, she started to purr loudly.

You smiled and kissed her forehead. She might be deaf and a little blind because of her injuries from the fire but she knew you loved her with your whole body. She was just like you.

~~~***~~~

When Mateo came to work next time, he was attacked with questions.

"So Probie, you left with Y/n, what happened after?" Marjan grinned. "Yeah, I wanna know too," Judd said suspiciously.

"N-Nothing happened, she told me about her cat, gave me water and I was going home," the young man stuttered nervously. The crew looked at him, suspicious if he was really telling the truth. "Fine, we'll believe you for now," Marjan said upsetly.

~~~***~~~

Mateo looked up with wonder as he was walking home. The northern lights were really beautiful. Since he had departed with Paul and Marjan, he felt lonely. He wanted to be with someone right now and-

"Mateo!" he looked in front of himself again and saw your familiar form. A smile stretched onto his face, "Y/n!" You had Prince on the leash who was wagging his tail happily at the sight of the man. Over the matter of few months, he had come to completely love the guy.

You surpringly also had Disney on a leash.

The man walked over to you and gave you a tight hug out of nowhere. Yes, you were surprised but still hugged him back.

"It's okay Matty. Anyway, I brought them out to calm them down a bit. Things in my apartment went crazy because of the solar storm. TV put on some crazy metal channel which freaked out Prince and lights started flicking and all sorts of other things that made them both stressed. The floor is probably full of their pee," you sighed and rubbed the part between your eyes tiredly. "Yeah, today was crazy but at least it has had a beautiful ending," the man said as he pointed towards the sky with his nose, still petting your animals.

"Why hello to you too," you said as you pulled back. Mateo smiled shyly, "Yeah yeah, hi." He bent down to greet the animals, Prince giving him kisses and Disney rubbing herself against him. Mateo felt his nose get a little sniffy and let out a sneeze.

"Sorry, I'm actually a bit allergic to cats," he apologized.

When you had made sure the boy got to his parents safely, you tried to call 911 but no luck, your phone decided that despite being 86% few seconds ago, it was at 0% now. So tightly gripping Prince's leash, you had approached the door to your apartment slowly. The door wasn't unlocked, nor had any signs that anyone had touched it in general.

You looked up and nodded slowly, still not smiling. You had been at work with your newest patient - a lovely 9 year old boy named Samuel who lost some of his hearing because he flew with an airplane - when the lights in your office started flicking crazily, scaring both you and your patient. The water machine in the corridor started going off too. Your patient had started crying and you had to calm him down while also trying to make sense of the situation. Then you had gotten a call from one of your neighbors, telling you that there were several crashes in your apartment and that maybe someone had broken in. Prince was with you as your aid dog, he had also calmed down Samuel a bit while being anxious himself but worry for Disney and your valuables peaked in you.

When you finally opened the door, you first saw many shards of glass and other pieces of your dishes on the floor. The lights were flicking here too. Prince started whining. You jumped when you heard a loud crash in the living room. Quickly, you ran in and saw your TV on the floor and a scared Disney running away, pee trailing after her. She was absolutely freaking out. You tried to switch off the lights but they kept on flicking. Prince yelped which made you turn your attention to him, he was holding one of his paws up. Probably had stepped on one of the shards. You bit your lip and tried to pick him up to put him on the couch. You noticed that it too had wet spots. The microwave started dinging, your golden mongrel tried to hide his head under a pillow.

With a rush, you followed the path you had seen Disney go - the bedroom.

The room was torn apart. Completely. Disney almost crashed into you but when she did see you, she immediately jumped on your legs and started climbing up while letting out pathetic kitten cries. You felt tears brimming at your eyes at the feeling of her claws. The little calico tried to hide into your shoulder while her fur was bristling with fear. You held your cat and started heading towards the living room and sat on the couch slowly. Prince placed his head in your lap while whining.

Then that fucking TV, despite being on the floor, basically destroyed, had turned on and started playing metal music max sound on. So with a heavy heart, you had beat it with your foot until it became silent again.

When it had finally calmed down, you decided to head out. The traffic was calm and normal again, maybe a bit scarce but traffic lights were working normally. Your apartment was pretty much destroyed and you were going to be in debt trying to make it all up. You weren't mad at Disney, no. She was scared and you understood that.

You were so tired of this day and even those northern lights weren't going to make your mood much better.

Mateo saw your sour look and came back to a standing position. "You okay?" he asked with worry. He liked you a lot and seeing you like this wasn't nice.

"No, not at all. I don't want to go back to my apartment. It's completely destroyed. Completely," you sighed. The man tongued his cheek as he tried to come up with an idea that would lighten your mood. "You can stay at my place if you want?" he suggested. You glanced at him and shook your head, "You're sweet Mateo but I can't. There's no food for them in your place and I don't want to risk ruining your living quarters." The rookie firefighter draped one of his arms around your shoulders. "Then we will go and buy food for them right now and will stay up with them for the night until we are sure that this is all over, okay?" You looked at him and gave a flat smile. "Okay fine."

~~~***~~~

"It's not the biggest but it'll do...I hope," Mateo said as he walked in, carrying the bags of dog-and cat food. You looked around with a small smile, "It's perfect."

You hesitantly bent down and unlatched the leash from Disney's straps. The queen immediately went to inspect the place, Prince following right after once he was let loose.

Mateo walked past you and you got triggered inside as you saw him wearing shoes in the process. No way were you going to make your feet into squashed lemons or anything. So you leaned against the wall and took your shoes off. Mateo looked back at you, "Oh you don't have to take your shoes-" he rushed but halted when you faced your palm with him. "I want to, I am not going to let my feet be squeezed lemons, thank you very much."

He nodded quietly.

"Soooo..." the man awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, "Want anything to eat?" He frowned when you didn't reply.

"Sorry, did you say something?" you asked as you put your jacket away. "Wanna eat anything?" he repeated. "Eat? Oh yes! But nothing too much- Wait hold up. You just came from work. Oh man, I remember when I was a firefighter, I was starving when work finally ended. Would it be okay with you if I made you something?" Mateo smiled at you and nodded, "Y-yeah, sure. But I don't have much to make something of..." You grinned, the memories of being a rookie and having to make meals for the crew clouding your mind. "Shh... Let Chef (l/n) handle it!"

Mateo followed you after sometime and placed the pet foods on the counter. Immediately a clatter of nails dashing towards the kitchen was heard. You giggled as you saw Prince storm in by the sound of the food bags. "What the..." the younger adult mumbled. You just shook your head with a smile and returned to your search for food in his kitchen. Like he said, there wasn't much of it. Some takeout boxes were in the bin, so he probably lived off of that most of the time.

"Alright, one day, we're going grocery shopping, Teo," you told him. Finally you found a package of spaghetti in a drawer. You remembered seeing cheese in the fridge.

It was decided. You were gonna make mac and cheese.

~~~***~~~

You called for Mateo who was in the living room cuddling with Disney, an EpiPen in one hand and the other on the cat's back. "Sorry, can't come. I'm the chosen one- ACHOO!" he rejected your call. You - not knowing what's going on - frowned and went to see what the heck he was talking about. As you saw the cat curled up on the male, you grinned. "Okay, guess you have to starve then. By the way, any bowls or something I could place their food on?" Mateo was slowly letting his palm run over the calico's soft fur while sniffling, he didn't even look at you. "Mhmgh, if you're okay with paper plates then those are...uh... I think in the drawer under forks and knives. Oh and for water err.... Just take a random bowl that doesn't look too fancy."

"Okiedokie"

Mateo was carefully touching your kitty when all of a sudden, she woke up and stormed into the kitchen. "Huh?" Confused, he got up and followed the deaf cat.

When he entered the kitchen, both animals were chewing on the food. It wasn't nearly as high quality as what you usually bought them but they were hungry. You were putting cheese on your spaghetti. "Well look who came," you said amused as you pulled out a fork from the drawer.

He smiled and grabbed the other plate you had set aside for him. "Thanks for this, I normally don't have the energy to cook after work." His demeanor was a bit shy and you loved that. Some guys had approached you after the incident but had ran for the hills after finding out about your disabilty.

"Ya know Mateo, you are very cute," you complimented him out of nowhere. Startled, said man almost dropped his plate at your words, "W-What? I mean, thanks, uh, you're very too. I mean you're very cute too," he stuttered, tongue tied and blushing a little. He was avoiding your gaze, knowing he will say something stupid if he'll look at you.

You giggled at that and kept watching him, making him nervous.

~~~***~~~

It took months of cutting out your own desires, working overhours, missing out on nights of fun and doing DIY to get your apartment back to what looked like a normal home from a place that looked like a hurricane hit it. Mateo helped you out a lot through that. Helping you choose things from IKEA, assemble the things you brought from IKEA, helping you clean out the place and treating Prince's injured paw while you couldn't. Getting a new TV was a big pain in the arse. Since it was so freaking expensive when you wanted a good one.

It would've taken you months until you could get one. But one day, you came home one day to find a brand new flatscreen attached to a wall in your living room. Bigger than your previous one for sure. Mateo had been at your place, having a day off and wanting to help you with the new coffee table since the previous one had been destroyed with claw marks and pet urine.

Immediately you bombed him with questions when you saw the thing on the wall, also feeling very mad that he got you something so expensive.

Mateo denied buying the TV and said it was.... Judd. You calmed down after a while

You put your information in and logged into your Netflix account. Mateo was about to leave when you offered that he could stay. He agreed immediately and happily plopped down on the sofa. You told him to find a good horror movie while you made something to eat.

You cut some fruits and also managed to find some chips. Not as traditional as popcorn but it'll do the job.

"What did you choose?" you asked happily while making yourself comfortable beside him and placing the snacks on the coffee table he had put together throughout the day. He had talent in it, for real.

"I mean, I don't really watch horror movies, so are you okay with Escape Room?" he asked hesitantly. You tongued your cheek and smiled, "Yeah sure."

Unlike most people, you liked the scary stuff. Enjoying the adrenaline that came when something terrifying happened. Doesn't mean you didn't hold onto Mateo sometimes but he was the more scared one. "Oh my God Teo, you're like a baby when watching this stuff," you giggled. "I'm sorry I made you watch this," you apologized while leaning your head against his shoulder. "What? No, I err... Really liked it. Yeah, it was... Awesome," he lied pathetically. You snorted and rubbed circles on Prince's stomach while the big dog lay on his back beside you.

After some silence, the firefighter opened his mouth. "So Y/n," he started. You shifted your head to look at him curiously. "What would be the perfect... date in your opinion?" he asked nervously. You rose your brow with surprise, the question unexpected. "Perfect date huh?" you thought for a bit and came up with an answer. "Well I'm not a huge fan of romantic dinners and stuff like that. Maybe camping? I really enjoy hiking and hiking with someone I care about would be lit. Those two love hikes too," you gestured at your furry friends, "Plus it isn't an expensive fun thing to do. Well unless you going all out. Which I don't normally."

"In that case, wanna go camping on the weekend?" he asked happily yet nervousness was as clear as a crystal in his voice. You smiled at him, "Of course," and laid your head on his chest.

#x reader #disabled reader #Mateo chavez #mateo chavez x reader #x older reader #911 lone star #911 #911 x reader #911 lone star x reader #dog #fluff #cat #firefighter #firefighters #social worker #social workers

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ladyanaconda · 4 years ago

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Helluva Dad Vol. 1: Murder Family

"Dad, dad, dad! Wake up, dad!"

Striker grunted as he covered his head with his pillow, but it was no use as the intruder hopped on his bed. "Kiddo, unless there's a wild animal or a homeless drunk inside the house, go away and let me sleep."

"Daaad, you promised that you'd take me along to the living world this time!"

Striker took a peek at the clock on his bedside table. "Not at 5:36 AM, boy. Couldn't you wait until I'm actually awake?"

"What am I supposed to do 'till then?"

"I don't know, use your imagination."

"But dad-" Out of patience, Striker bared his teeth at his son, tail rattling. Jake raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving."

Once the door closed shut, Striker went back to sleep… For about thirty seconds, that is, until the door slammed open and Jake jumped into his bed again, screaming in fright and knocking the air out of his father.

"What the fuck, Jake?!" Striker all but shrieked.

"There's a spider in the living room!"

"... What?"

"Spider!"

"And why didn't you squash it?!"

"It's a big spider!"

Striker's eye twitched. With an irritated grunt, he got off the bed, rolled up a porno magazine on his bedside drawer, and stomped his way towards the living room, Jake trailing closely behind.

"I can't believe it, A son of mine is afraid of a tiny, insignificant…" Striker trailed off and stopped in the doorway. A hog-sized hellantula was tearing the couch apart with big, sharp mandibles. "Boy, go get the rifle."

Once the issue with the spider was taken care of, Striker found himself unable to go back to sleep after the fiasco, so he went to the kitchen and poured himself a big cup of black coffee before making breakfast. Thankfully, Blitzo wasn't inside his fridge this time around, though he made a mental note to go get some more groceries.

As he served the fried eggs and wild hog bacon, Jake walked into the kitchen. He was covered in sweat like he had spent an hour lifting five-ton weights. "Dad, wouldn't it have been easier if we cut up the spider's carcass and take it out piece by piece?" he whined.

"And make a bigger mess I'll have to clean up? No, thank you." Striker placed one of the plates in front of his son. Jake frowned.

"Puaj. Tomato."

"Stop complaining and eat, boy. It's good for you."

They are in silence for the first few minutes. Striker would subtly glance in Jake's direction every now and then, smirking internally at the boy's expressions while he begrudgingly ate his vegetables.

"So, ready for today?" he asked casually.

Jake's expression brightened. "How's the living world like? Is it cool? Does it look anything like hell?"

"You could say so. The only difference is that there are humans living there instead of demons."

"Humans? What are those?"

"Well, you've seen the clients at I.M.P, right? They used to be humans during their lifetime. When they died, they came to Hell and became Sinner demons because they did bad things in life. However, some of them have..." Striker toyed with his bacon as he thought of a proper word. "...pending business with someone in the living world. Our job is to finish that business in the client's stead.

"So… The people who go to I.M.P. are dead humans who want to fuck up someone who fucked them up in the living world?"

Striker snapped his fingers. "Bingo. You're getting the hang of it, kid."

"Hey, dad, think I could use the-?"

"No."

"Hey, you didn't let me finish!"

"Sorry, kiddo. I thought you were going to ask if you could use the blessing-tipped rifle." Striker replied, his eyes reflecting off the knife he was using to butter his toast.

Jake laughed nervously. "Speaking of which-"

"No."

"Come on, dad! When will you let me use those?"

"When you're ready, not a second sooner."

"And when will I be ready?"

Striker dropped his fork to place a hand on Jake's shoulder. "We'll both know. Until then, finish your breakfast."

*HB*

"Moxxie, stop shaking. You're gonna shoot our only hellhound!"

"Wow, I feel so loved here."

Striker watched, uninterested, as Moxxie pointed the crossbow with shaking arms at a photo depicting a human family. "If this were real, he'd already been dead."

"You're not helping, Striker," Millie growled before focusing back on Moxxie. "Just take a deep breath, and let it out."

"But it's a family. Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?"

"Who knows? Maybe if that's what the client wants." Striker said matter-of-factly as he polished his pistol.

Moxxie wasn't convinced. "Maybe like a shitty dad, or a mob family. That's understandable. But to eradicate an entire innocent-seemingly in this instance-upper middle-class family bloodline?"

Loona frowned. "Hey!" You don't know they're innocent! This kid probably sets dogs on fire, maybe this girl gets off bullying Australian kids online, and this guy…"

"That guy definitely watches," Jake added grimly.

"Couldn't have said it better, little guy." Loona shared a fist bump with the impling.

"Exactly! Humans are full of secret nasties. It's why so many of them end up here."

"But-"

Striker had enough. "Allow me, Mildred." he stomped his way to Moxxie and picked him up by the throat. "Look, wimp, guilty and innocent aren't our business. We're assassins, not charity workers. Killing a target," he swiftly aimed his pistol at the photo and fired a clean shot at the woman's face, leaving a hole in its wake. His point made clear, Striker locked gazes with Moxxie, hissing. "Now pick a bloody target before I throw you out the window."

Moxxie fell to the ground with a loud thud. Millie handed him the crossbow again; he aimed the tip of the arrow at the father's face, trying to imagine it was Striker.

"I just think it's a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all."

Blitzo slammed the door open at that precise moment, startling Moxxie into firing the arrow. It bounced all around the room, hitting the computer, making a second hole on the photograph, and striking the bottom of the eel tank. Moxie jumped into Millie's arms while Striker quickly picked Jake up from the eel tank when he noticed it wobbling.

"Daad, I nearly had it!"

Blitzo caught the arrow just before it struck the client's skull. "...our newest client!"

The eel tank fell and shattered, spilling its contents all over the floor. The eels burst into electricity, setting the entirety of the room on fire.

Striker frowned at Jake, who was stunned into silence. "To think that could have been you."

"Damn it, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!"

They were forced to evacuate the building as the firefighters arrived and did their job. Striker was sure that this little incident didn't leave a good impression on the client, but surprisingly she didn't cancel. Guess she really wanted that person 86'd.

"Way to go, jughead," Jake told Moxxie sarcastically as they watched the firefighters carry the eels into their truck.

"Shut up, you little brat," Moxxie murmured.

Millie frowned at him. "Mox, don't talk to Jake like that!"

"He started it!" Striker rolled his eyes. Moxxie is 'supposed to be the adult who shouldn't stomp down to a child's level.

Wait a minute. "Did anyone save the fancy book?"

"You mean our only ticket to the other side?" Luna slipped out the blue, fancy-looking tome from her clothing without bothering to look up from her hellphone. "Yeah, got it."

"And that's why you're my favorite, Loonie!"

"I thought my dad was your favorite." Jake pointed out.

"Who says I can't have two favorite people? Your dad's my favorite employee and Loonie here's my favorite adopted daughter. You get a tweat now!"

Millie drew the chalk pentagram on the nearby wall. The lines glowed an eerie red color as the circle expanded and the area inside transformed into a forest. The portal was open.

"Cool! Can I draw it the next time?"

"Maybe. Let's get this over with."

Striker would never admit it out loud, but he found these trips to the living world… relaxing. The air smelled cleaner, like trees and nature instead of sulfur, ash, and lava-like Wrath. Its landscapes were more varied, prettier, and calm, at least compared to Hell's ecosystems. This place was particularly breathtaking; a wide lake surrounded by forest and mountains with the sun setting, giving the sky reddish colors that reminded Striker of Bombproof's mane.

Jake seemed to be having similar thoughts. The impling was looking all over the place, eyes wide. "Whoah…"

"Hey, hey, hold your horses!" Striker picked his son up by the shirt before he could dart into the woods. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I wanna look around, dad! This place is so neat!"

"It's your first time on the surface, right? Don't worry, Jakey!" Blitzo pulled Jake into a hug. "Just stick close to uncle Blitz and everything will be fine!"

"Sides, you and I got a very important job! We're going to keep an eye on... Well, the house, just in case something goes wrong!"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Millie, I might be a kid but I'm not stupid."

"Oh, I know you aren't, Jakey." Millie chirped, ruffling the boy's hair.

Blitzo, Striker, and Moxxie silently moved closer to the house and leaned against the wall. The former two peeked through the window. It seemed like a normal-looking household with a mom, dad, and two kids. The target was coming out of the kitchen, platter in both hands.

"That's gotta be her." Blitzo chuckled darkly. "Ready to do your cowboy thing, Striker?"

As he was about to point his rifle, Striker glanced sideways to Moxxie. The cowboy sneered. "Actually, Blitz, this one's far too easy. We should let Moxxie have her."

Moxxie blinked. "Me?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I don't see another Moxxie around here, do you?"

"He's right, Mox. This one's simple enough for you to handle."

Moxxie's face fell after peering into the house. "It's just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital."

"You snooze, you lose, Mox."

Striker readied his rifle, taking a few steps back to aim. He set his eyes on the blonde human female, licking his lips in anticipation. "I've got you, bitch."

"Wait, are we actually killing a family?" Moxxie asked.

"No, don't be a puss. We're just killing a mother." Striker positioned the rifle as it clicked.

"Yeah, we're ruining a family," Blitzo added cheerily.

"B-But… hold on, hold on. Let's just think about it."

He was pulling the trigger when the rifle was suddenly pushed upwards. The movement made the bullet miss its target by a few inches, hitting a mirror instead.

"Why, you-!" Striker grabbed Moxxie's throat, hissing and rattling his tail.

"What the fuck was that, Moxxie?!" Blitzo snapped. Moxxie seemed to go into a panic attack of sorts, prompting Striker to release him.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, tears in his eyes. "They just seemed so wholesome and happy, I panicked!"

Striker rubbed his temple, murmuring under his breath while Blitzo facepalmed. "Get the fuck over it, you baby dick-!"

PAM!

Striker roared in pain as a bullet blasted through the wall, hitting him in the arm. He gripped the wound as blood scurried out of the wound. Fuck, and on his aiming arm!

"New hole! Scatter!"

"Dad!"

Jake's voice brought Striker out of his daze. The last thing he saw before something struck his head was Millie picking his son up and fleeing the scene. Everything went black afterward.

…

As consciousness returned, Striker felt as if he had been trampled over by a stampede. His head hurt like hell and his wounded arm was no better. He tried to move but found himself unable to. Something was binding his hands behind his torso.

"Striker! Wake up, partner!"

"Wha…? Moxxie?" As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, Striker realized he was tied up in a bizarre chair, hands tightly bound behind his back. Moxxie was in a similar dilemma on the chair to his right. "What the fuck?!"

"Thank satan you're awake! We're in deep shit!"

"You think?" Striker hissed. "Moxxie, I swear, if those bloody humans don't kill you, I will!"

"Hey, you can't blame me for us getting caught!"

"Oh, really? None of this would be happening if I had hit the target and been done with it! God damn it, Moxxie, I had a clean shot and you made me miss!"

"H-How can you kill a mother and leave orphaned children when you have a kid yourself?!"

"Because that's what we were paid for, for Satan's sake!"

They could have continued to argue if it weren't for the two presences in the room. As they looked around, they saw the two kids from before. He might have confused the little shits with implings if they had horns and red skin; their glowing red eyes and devious sharp grins would make the sadistic smirks of the Princes of Hell look like nervous smiles.

Moxxie chuckled nervously. "Well hello there, little ones. Aren't you cute?"

The children spoke simultaneously in a low, almost inhuman voice. "It's nice to have new critters to play with."

If he didn't know any better, Striker might have thought they were in the Cannibal Colony back in Hell. The entire room was adorned with human heads, limbs, and even organs. The 'food' on the table consisted of a roasted fully-grown man with livers and kidneys as side dishes.

"Moxxie, when we're out of this ordeal, I'm going to fucking pummel you." Striker hissed.

They struggled against the ropes, but the kids had made a surprisingly good job with those knots. They were good enough to impress even Striker himself, and he was an ace when it came to tying up knots. Sadly, there was little he could do with an injured arm and Moxxie's wimpy little arms were hopeless. Striker growled. If only he could reach his knife…

A light outside the window caught his eye. Then a second appeared, then a third, fourth, as if someone was lighting up torches. Striker paled.

"Jake!"

"Millie!"

Both imps shared a concerned glance. The girl pulled out a serrated knife on Moxxie; to Striker's surprise, the wimp pushed the chair backward and fell on top of her. He took advantage of the distraction, using his tail to pull his knife out of his boot and expertly slice through the ropes. Once free, Striker sent the boy flying against the wall with a kick. Moxxie, too, had managed to free himself with the girl's own knife.

Striker tipped his hat with his good arm. "Not bad, wimp."

"Can you move?"

"I'm not limp, it's just a scratch." Striker wrapped his red bandanna around the wound and pulled out his pistol. "Now let's blow a hole through that bitch's skull."

*HB*

Jake had never been so frightened in his entire life. Well, maybe that time when he nearly got eaten by a serpent, but it was different. At least his father had been there to save him. But this time it was him who got hurt and there was nothing Jake could do to help. He tried to save Millie when she got K.O.'d, but he stood no chance against a fully-grown human and was knocked out as well. When he regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a stake in-between Millie and Blitzo.

"Striker had that fucking shot. Goddammit, Moxxie."

The crazy woman was cackling evilly as she held up a torch. "Satan! We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell! May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!"

The torch landed a few feet away from the logs, setting them aflame. The fire rose up around them as Martha laughed maniacally… until she realized they weren't screeching in agony. Blitzo snorted.

"Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady. Sorry, your fire doesn't actually hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard."

Jake blinked. "She's a dude?"

"Grown-up stuff, kiddo. You should ask your daddy about it."

"Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart ass mouth!" Jake gulped as Martha pulled out a rifle on them.

"That would be more effective."

"Blitzo!"

Jake closed his eyes shut, whimpering as he heard the familiar click on the rifle. There were two gunshots, but he heard no screams from Blitzo, Millie, or his own throat, and no searing pain. Jake opened an eye warily. There were two smoking holes in the sockets where Martha's eyes once were. Her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

A few steps back were none other than Moxxie and dad, both holding their pistols.

"Moxxie! Striker!"

"Dad!"

"You're not getting your god damn paycheck for this one, Moxxie!"

As Moxxie untied the ropes, Jake jumped right into his father's embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hugged and nuzzled each other affectionately.

"I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again. I promise."

"Apology accepted." Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug, but Striker noticed he was whispering something threatening (apparently), judging by Moxxie's expression.

He waited until Blitzo let go to punch Moxxie with such force that he fell to the ground.

"What the fuck, Striker?!"

"I keep my promises, Mox."

*HB*

Striker wasn't very fond of parties. Frankly, he just wanted to go home, fall to his bed, and sleep, but Jake begged him to stay a little longer to eat cake. After what the boy just went through, he didn't have the heart to say no, so he conceded. Besides, the look on Moxxie's face was fun to look at. He had no idea what put the wimp in such a mood, but he had the feeling it had to do with what remained of the target's bloodline.

"You sure you can ride back home with that arm? I wouldn't like to lose my best shooting asset!" Blitzo protested as he climbed onto Bombproof's saddle, Jake seated in front of him.

"Big deal, it's just a scratch. Nothin' to worry about, Blitz." Striker grabbed the reins with his good arm, the injured one resting on a sling.

Bombproof moved at a slow pace, so it'd take them longer than usual to get home. Millie had once suggested that he and Jake move to Imp City; there was a vacant apartment in the building she and Moxxie lived in and she'd be thrilled at the idea of being neighbors (Moxxie, of course, didn't share the sentiment). Striker regretfully declined the offer (to Moxxie's relief). He was a country person at heart and would rather stay in Wrath. Besides, he wanted his son to experience the ups and downs of rural life.

A loud yawn made him look down. "Tired?"

"No, just resting my eyes," Jake said simply, but the exhaustion in his voice said otherwise. Striker chuckled.

"How about you 'rest yer eyes' for a while, then? I'll wake you up when we get home."

"Really, dad, I'm not tired…" Jake trailed off as he leaned back against his father, resting his chest against his chest.

Striker smiled a bit as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Surely not, kiddo. Surely not."

#helluva boss #helluva boss au #helluva dad #helluva boss striker #helluva striker #helluva fanfiction #helluva moxxie #helluva jake #helluva blitzo #helluva millie #helluva loona #one-shot #helluva boss fanfiction

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lonestarbabe · 4 years ago

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Saving The Child Inside

Chapter 1: Unsettled New Normal

[AO3]

Growing up as Sam Avery's son wasn't easy for TK. His abusive upbringing left him with a wealth of trauma that he couldn't bring himself to face, even as an adult, but for all the bad, TK's life in Austin brought him a lot of good. He married his high school sweetheart, Carlos, and he became a firefighter like he had always dreamt he would be. But for all he had managed to make something of his life, there's still a hurt, lost child inside TK, a child who wants to found, and mostly, that child wants to be loved.

(I have rewritten the first several chapters, which have been condensed into one chapter, and then, I will be adding new content starting in chapter 2).

Chapter 1: Unsettled New Normal

It had been three months since T.K. had any drugs or alcohol, and he was long past the withdrawal phase of getting better, but it still made him sick to think that he could never touch a drug again. It’s going to stick this time, he promised himself. It never sticks, the critical voice in his head added. You always mess up, so you might as well just give up now. Despite the nagging thought that he was doomed for failure, T.K. didn’t have plans to go back to his old ways, and in that moment, he didn’t want to do drugs ever again. But the thought that he could never have substances again without the risk of a complete spiral made T.K.’s hands shake with apprehension. He thought of all the wedding toasts he’d have to miss, all the nights getting wasted in clubs in a way that was called fun instead of abuse, and all late nights with a date and a bottle of wine. Oxy was easier to escape in normal social functions, but he’d always be a little too fond at the mere thought of it.

There was an itchiness that prickled his core, pulling at his middle with a sloppy mix of feelings he couldn’t distinguish beyond being uncomfortable. The itch made him restless, and without the time-warp of being high, T.K. didn’t know how to keep himself busy. But he still stayed away from substances. All of them. He hadn’t even had coffee; though, he knew his resolve wouldn’t last on that front because there was only so much abstinence that he could he handle and only so much hollowness that he could take. He would need something eventually, even if that thing was a weak, watery stand-in for what he wanted. He’d knew that he’d always be an addict.

He didn’t mind being clean—sober, he reminded himself because the substances had never been what made his skin feel grimy and his insides feel like dust was perpetually compacted in all the hollow spaces—but sobriety would always bore him, like driving through a flat stretch of middle-America in a silent car on an overcast day, but it was better than the alternative. T.K. couldn’t put Carlos through more than he already had, so he suffered through the restlessness and tried to remind himself why he didn’t want to die.

The boredom had worsened since T.K. wasn’t working. T.K. yearned to return to the 126, even though he knew it was going to bring up thoughts that he’d tried to chase away with substances and an ill-fated overdose/suicide attempt. Working would give him something to do. His mind still whirled with the memory of that day, but sitting at home made him feel useless. Guilt ate at him as he thought about Carlos at work while T.K. sat on his ass. He wasn’t fulfilling his role in their household. I’m going to change that. I’ll go back to work, and some of the colors will come back into my life. It won’t always be this gray.

Bouncing his leg up and down to rid his body of some its excess energy, T.K. was not-so-patiently waiting for his husband to come home. He hated how trapped in his thoughts he became when no one else was around to keep his head away from everything else. He could have called Carlos’ mother. She’d decided to work less when she turned fifty-five, but it drove her crazy to have nothing to do, so Andrea Reyes would have gladly come over to keep T.K. company if he had asked. She’d been doing that a lot lately, probably at Carlos’ behest, but T.K. didn’t want to burden anyone with his issues more than he had to. I’ve been doing that enough lately.

T.K. couldn’t stop checking his phone. Carlos was late, and T.K. couldn’t stop himself from thinking the worst. He imagined Carlos blown up or shot down, and he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that something bad had happened. Carlos was the kind of guy to be on time, and while being a social worker meant that Carlos had some late nights, he usually told T.K. if he got caught up in something at work, and ever since the explosion, Carlos had been cutting those late nights short. T.K. knew it was because Carlos worried what would happen if T.K. was alone too long. Selfishly, T.K. was relieved when Carlos came home early, even if he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

He thought it would be good to get dinner started, but T.K. knew his limits, and he knew he wasn’t the best cook. He could throw together a meal if things had returned to normal, but he still had trouble motivating his body to do the things that he asked of it, so he sat with his worry. Every separation sends a fresh surge of anxiety through each of them, but they were trying to be better.

Still, there was only so much that T.K. could take, so he exhaled when Carlos came through the door, carrying a couple bags of groceries on the floor when T.K. got up and threw his arms around Carlos in record time. T.K. smiled. “Babe, hi.”

Carlos returned the smile and kissed T.K. on the forehead. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to stop at the store and get some stuff for dinner.”

“I wasn’t worried,” T.K. said too quickly.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“Just fidgety,” T.K. said, hoping there was no waver in his voice.

“You can’t lie to your husband.”

“You weren’t home, and I just thought—” T.K. shook his head. “It’s been hard.”

“I’m okay. You’re okay. Right?”

T.K. rubbed Carlos’ shoulders, trying to ease the knots. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m glad you’re home. I’m bored here all alone.” After giving T.K. another kiss, Carlos moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries and start dinner. He pulled out a pot, filling it with water and putting it on the burner.

T.K. followed Carlos to the kitchen. “What are you making?”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

T.K. felt warmth radiate in his chest, and he wanted to pull his husband to bed and never leave. “That’s the second time this week.”

“Are you getting sick of it?” Carlos said and then yawned.

“You know it’s my favorite.” One of T.K.’s earliest memories was being around three years old, and his mom made him macaroni and cheese. He remembered little about his mother. She was gone shortly after that memory, but macaroni and cheese always made him think of her. He remembered her smiling at him as she put the food in the bowl in front of him. “I ate it every day for two months after I left home. I didn’t get sick of it then, and I won’t get sick of it now either.”

Carlos ignited the burner, and as the fire fanned out before settling to its normal intensity, T.K. felt his heartbeat trot, and he couldn’t take his eyes from the flame.

“About leaving home. There’s something you should know.” Carlos’ tone was dark in a way that it hadn’t been since T.K.’s dad had turned up to their wedding uninvited two years prior. A shiver ran through his spine. “I saw your dad today. He’s back in town.” T.K.’s eyes snapped up.

T.K. fell back onto a stool next to the counter. “Oh?” he said, voice pulled like a rubber band just before it snapped. “I haven’t seen him since the wedding.”

“I heard he went to Florida.”

“He’s here now,” Carlos replied somberly. “I don’t know for how long or why, but he’s here.”

“Did you talk to him?” T.K. prayed the answer was no. He didn’t want Carlos to get too close. T.K. didn’t think Carlos was in danger, but Sam Avery was toxic.

Carlos shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been able to say anything good, so it’s probably best that I didn’t, but no, I just saw him at the market. He didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“I’m not even sure he knows your name. He only acknowledges me when he wants to make my life hell.” T.K. wasn’t bitter. He really wasn’t. He was tired of the bullshit that his dad brought into his life. “I wish that bastard would get out of Austin.”

“He should be in jail.” Carlos set a second pot for the cheese sauce down on the stovetop with a thud. T.K. startled. “Sorry,” Carlos said, looking guilty. The water on the stove was boiling, bubbles becoming more aggressive.

“I don’t want him in jail, but I want him away from me,” T.K. replied. “I can’t let him back into my life.” I can’t deal with him and staying sober. I’ll lose my mind if he tries to pry his way back into my life.

“I won’t let him get near you,” Carlos promised, and T.K. knew that for all Carlos meant his words that his dad wasn’t the type of guy who respected boundaries. If his dad wanted to get to T.K., he probably would. T.K. didn’t think the old drunkard cared enough to go out of his way, though. He was hoping desperately that that’s the case. Sam had told T.K. that he wasn’t worth the time hundreds of times, and T.K. didn’t want to be worth the time.

Carlos poured the macaroni into the pot, and the water foamed before settling.

“I’m not a helpless little kid anymore,” T.K.’s voice trembled. He was not one, but the helpless little kid lived inside him, scared and hoping that someone would care enough to let him out of the dark room he’d been shoved into. “I don’t know why he still gets to me.”

“It’s normal to hold onto things. I’m still mad at Willie Johnson for throwing a rock at my head in first grade.”

“Willie Johnson is has always been a jerk. I’d be mad too.”

“Yeah, but if I can hold on to that memory, it’s normal that you’d still feel hurt over the things your dad did, which were a hell of a lot worse than a rock to the head in first grade.”

“Dad wasn’t that bad.” You’ve always been sensitive. He only hurt you because you were too sensitive.

“I won’t spare any kind words for that man.”

“He’s still my dad.”

Carlos bit his lip as he put the milk, salt, pepper, cornstarch, and ground mustard into the roux pot and brought that mix to a boil. He got out the block of sharp white cheddar and shred it, taking his frustrations out on the cheese.

“What are you not telling me?”

Carlos put the cheese down. “I think you should get a restraining order.”

“That’s a little much, don’t you think?”

“What if he finds us here?” Carlos asked. “I don’t trust that he won’t track us down.”

“What’s he going to do? He’s got a lot of bark but not a lot of bite.” T.K. shook his head. “A restraining order won’t keep him away. If he wants to find us, he will, regardless of what the law says. He might break the order just to spite the law.”

“He’s dangerous,” Carlos said, voice going shrill. “We nearly had to cancel our wedding because you were so terrified to see him when he showed up unannounced.”

“He doesn’t scare me,” T.K. insisted. “He’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle him, and I don’t want to handle him if I don’t have to.”

“He wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about me.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“It’s my thing to worry. You know that.”

“Let’s talk about how you are,” T.K. diverted the conversation. “How was work? I hope it wasn’t too bad.” Carlos had had a hard week the week before. A child in one family he worked with had died tragically, and it had been no one’s fault, but it had left Carlos feeling guilty that he hadn’t done more.

“It was okay,” Carlos replied with a sigh. “Better than last week.”

“That’s good.” T.K. pressed his lips against Carlos’ neck. He caught a whiff of Carlos’ cologne, and it reminded him of a smell he used to know, but he hadn’t been able to figure out what it was. He just knew it made him feel calm.

“As much as I love having you kiss me. I’m trying to make dinner,” Carlos said with a laugh, swatting T.K. away with a dish towel.

“Fine. Have it your way,” T.K. pulled away slowly, already missing the closeness. “That’s the last time I try to make you feel better after a hard day.”

“Being with you always makes me feel better,” Carlos replied in a tone that was so earnest that T.K. could hardly believe that Carlos was his husband. “I’m feeling less stressed already.”

“You should have asked me to go to the store. It’s not like I had anything to do.”

Carlos shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but you’re so busy, and I’m just sitting around being useless.”

“You’re not useless.” They’d had a fight about this several times since the explosion. You do nothing to help this household. It makes no sense that Carlos has been so patient and sticks around.

“You have to say that. You married me, but what do I do? I’m not making any money. I can’t cook. I can barely even leave the house. The only thing I do is my job.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit, T.K. You’ll be back in action soon. You’re recovering. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Work will probably be bad too. Did you hear that they’re bringing in some guy from New York to run the new 126? That’s what Judd told me.”

“Oh? How’s Judd doing.”

“Pissed that they’re bringing some stranger in to be our captain.”

“Are you pissed?”

“Obviously. It’s a slap in the face. That’s what it is. That man is going to ruin everything. He doesn’t get how it is here in Texas. Austin is progressive, but we’re still in Texas. I give it three weeks before he realizes that he’s not cut out to work here.” T.K. hadn’t been born in Texas, but it is the only home he could remember, and he didn’t like the idea of an outsider coming in and flipping everything on its head. They’d had enough changes.

Carlos shrugged. “Maybe he’ll be nice.”

T.K. shot him an “Are you serious?” look. “He’s probably going to think he’s the best thing since sliced bread, and I don’t want to work for a guy who has attitude.”

“You have attitude,” Carlos replied with a laugh, bumping T.K. playfully with his hip. He poured the macaroni and cheese mix into a casserole dish before adding bread crumbs and putting it all in the oven.

T.K. crossed his arms, looking petulant. “Well, I’m not in charge, am I? My attitude won’t get anyone killed. That job should go to Judd. He’s an actual leader. Not some city guy who got his position by charming the pants off his superiors. Like, come on, New York? Why would a New Yorker want to come here? Judd knows what it’s like here.” T.K. didn’t see any reasons why Judd shouldn’t get the promotion that he was next in line for.

“Do you think Judd would even want it? Grace tells me he’s been having a tough time with everything. Being captain is a lot of pressure.”

“Our team died. Of course, he’s having a hard time, but he’s fine now. He told me so. He’s ready to get back to work, and I’m going to be right beside him. I’m just glad we’ll have each other.”

“He’s struggling more than he lets on. Grace doesn’t think he’s ready to go back”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Grace said that?”

“He won’t do his required therapy.”

“They won’t let him back until he does. It sucks, but all you have to do is tell ‘em what they want to hear and then you’re done.”

“That better not be the attitude you use when you go to therapy.”

Carlos was careful with what he said next. “Do you think you’re ready to go back?”

T.K. felt a sudden rush of guilt. “Babe, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Carlos looked nervous.

“I’m going back tomorrow,” T.K. confessed.

“What the hell, T.K.?” Carlos asked. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” T.K. had been trying to tell Carlos for a week, but he knew Carlos would think that it was too soon, so he’d delayed it until he could delay it no more. He’d never meant for it to become such a big secret, but like any secret, it had a life of its own.

“It was short notice, but I’ve been doing my therapy, so the captain agreed we could try to see what happens.”

“You nearly died twice.”

“The overdose was a lapse in judgement and the explosion was a freak accident. Neither will happen again.” You know it’s only a matter of time before you fall off the wagon. I wouldn’t do that to Carlos. You can’t help yourself.

“Judd won’t be your boss. The new guy is, so you’ll have to listen to him. Are you ready for that?”

“He saved my life, so I’m going to be loyal to him above all others, and the new captain better learn to deal with that.” Judd had shielded T.K. with his own body, protecting him from the worst of the explosion. T.K. owed Judd his life, and he was going to be bitter on his friend’s behalf about this new guy rolling in and stealing what was rightfully Judd’s.

“If you need more time off, we can make it work. You don’t have to go back right now.”

“We can’t make it work. You don’t exactly get paid a lot, and I can’t just sit at home all day.”

“Whatever you need, we can make it work.”

“I need to get back to work, Carlos.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go back before you’re ready.” T.K. could hear the anxiety in Carlos’ voice, and he knew that Carlos had nightmares about T.K. dying in the explosion.

“I need to get back to living a real life, not just my sad, pathetic existence.”

“If you say you’re ready, I’ll support you.” Carlos swallowed. “But I won’t deny that I’m nervous about you going back.”

T.K. took Carlos’ hand, pulling Carlos closer. “I’m ready. I promise. I was born to do this, and I won’t let shit that’s happened in the past stand in my way. I feel purposeless, and I need to get that purpose back.”

“Will you keep going to therapy?”

“If that makes you feel better.”

“I want it to make you feel better.”

T.K. leaned up to kiss Carlos. “That’s why I married you. You always want me to be better. You make me better”

“I thought it was because I could cook?”

T.K. kissed him again. “That was just a perk.”

“Are you nervous?” Carlos asked.

“You know me. I jump into things and don’t look back.” T.K. shook his head. “No, I’m not nervous.”

Walking into the firehouse the next morning felt strange after months away. T.K. hadn’t been there since the memorial service for the lost members. T.K. felt like Dorothy walking into Oz as he stared at the firehouse’s facelift, but instead of awe, dread was the only emotion that T.K. could make out.

The fire station felt like a hotel that he was passing through more than a second home where he’d be spending huge chunks of his time. He couldn’t deny that the arrangement was impressive, but the transformation only made him bitter. Lives couldn’t be covered up with a fresh coat of paint.

Before he could even get his bearings, the Owen Strand pulled him into his office, offering a hand and a too chipper grin. Reluctantly, T.K. shook his new captain’s hand. He hadn’t been raised with many manners, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He knew to play nice with his boss. “Owen Strand,” Owen introduced himself. “Please, have a seat.”

T.K. sat in a chair that looked too nice to be comfortable. He didn’t want to have whatever conversation Owen wanted to have. It wasn’t like T.K. has done anything yet. He hadn’t had the chance to let his impulses get him in trouble with this stupid New Yorker who was probably going to be the downfall of the entire station. Because based on the aesthetic of the firehouse, T.K. had to wonder if Owen was a leader who probably cared more about appearances and firehouse statistics more than he cared about the work itself.

They wouldn’t even start taking calls for another week because Owen thought it was important that they had team bonding and the kind of crap that T.K. thought was a waste of energy. They’d be doing training sessions, which were better than the getting to know each other games that were also on the agenda. Endurance exercises would keep his mind off everything else, but the trust exercises made him want to scream.

The captain was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and it was too early for a stare-off, so the way the captain was looking at him only made T.K. angrier because he’s too tired for games. T.K. hated men like that who looked at you like they could break you down by looking at you long enough. “Good morning, T.K.” Owen’s voice was bubbly, as if the firehouse wasn’t still haunted by all the people it has lost. T.K.’s was not sure that he’d ever be able to smile like that without guilt. It’s not like his life gave him a lot to smile about, anyway.

T.K. crossed his arms and uncrossed them because he didn’t want to look like a petulant kid. “What am I here for?” T.K. asked, not wanting to extend any pleasantries. He wasn’t there to make nice. He was there to do his job, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. I’ll show him I’m okay, but I don’t have to pretend I like him. He didn’t want to make friends or talk to his boss about things that didn’t matter. Owen Strand wanted to be Mr. Popular, and T.K. would not let him have that title easily. T.K. couldn’t be bribed with gourmet coffee makers and a variety of milks.

Owen has the gall to crack another smile. T.K. doesn’t return one. He can’t. He won’t. “I thought I should inform you that Judd won’t be coming back yet.” He hadn’t talked to Judd, but he’d figured that part out based on the conversation he’d had with Carlos the night before.

“Yeah, I know.” T.K. kept his voice stoic. “And I probably would’ve noticed that when I didn’t see him here.”

“I thought you should know that my decision not to bring Judd back right now doesn’t mean he’ll never be back.”

“Great, thanks for letting me know. Can I go now?”

“But that’s not why I called you in here. It’s not the only reason, at least.”

“Then what is? I’m not in the mood for small talk.”

“I want Judd to take care of his mental health. That was the major reason I would not let him back. He wasn’t taking his trauma seriously.” T.K. wanted to tell Owen off.

“It’s hard not to take trauma seriously. It’s always serious. That’s what makes it trauma.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. All I mean is that he needs more time to get his head back to where it needs to be.”

“You think I’m better than he is?” T.K. wasn’t sure he was much better than Judd. Maybe he was better at hiding the haunted look in his eyes. He’d been doing it his whole life. I know how to seem okay. It’s one of my greatest talents.

“You’ve been doing what the department requires, and that’s why I let you come back.” Owen kept his tone cool. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, T.K.”

“Yeah? And?” He still doesn’t know why Owen is wasting his time with this. “I still don’t get why you called me in here.”

“Being here doesn’t mean that I’m going to ignore well-being. I need you to take your mental health seriously too. You’ve done your required therapy, but I need you to keep taking care of that. If you have issues, you need to be upfront about them or else this won’t work. I need to know that I can trust you.” What about me trusting you? How am I supposed to do that?

T.K. rolled his eyes. “What my personal life is like isn’t your business. Everyone’s got baggage, and it’s not your business how I deal with it.”

“It is if it impedes what we’re doing here. I believe we all need to be on the same page. Are you willing to be a team player?”

“I would never let my issues get in the way with my job.”

“I know you wouldn’t intentionally, but—"

“But nothing. I’m fine, and this isn’t something I want to talk about with someone I’ve just met. What happened was awful, but I’m ready to move on because it doesn’t help anyone to live in the past.”

“T.K., you’re young and you’re resilient, but trauma is still trauma. I’ve been through it myself. I know what it’s like to lose your whole crew.” He pauses, looking choked up. “I know what it’s like to lose everything important to you.”

“Then, you know that sometimes you don’t want to be coddled. You just want to move on.”

“I also know that sometimes no matter how hard you try, you can’t move. I don’t want you to be stuck.”

“I’m nothing like you,” T.K. spat. “And the problems that you think I have are just you problems.”

Owen didn’t let T.K.’s comment rile him up. “Maybe you’re right, but I’m here if you need to talk. I’m here for anyone on my team.”

“I won’t, and if I do, it won’t be to you because I don’t trust you. You just rolled into Austin like you owned the place. It doesn’t make sense that you’d want to come to Austin, of all places. This would be a downgrade to a New Yorker, so unless you were on the verge of being fired, I can’t see why you’d take this job other than having a hero complex.” T.K. absolutely shouldn’t talk to his new boss that way, but he’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

“I appreciate your honesty, so I’m going to be honest with you. I’m not here because I want to be a hero. I’m here because I needed a fresh start. New York has a lot of hard memories for me. I was holding onto a lot of things that I needed to let go of, so when the opportunity arose, I made the most drastic change that I’ve ever faced. This new station can be a fresh start for you too. And Judd.”

T.K. remained testy. “I didn’t ask for your sob story.” He was being an asshole because that how he gets whenever he has any negative feelings. Like father like son, I guess.

Owen gave T.K. a sympathetic smile. “Trust me. I didn’t give it,” and T.K. knew that there was something to unpack there, but someone else’s trauma wasn’t something he has any business digging into. Besides, he really didn’t care to know anything more about Owen Strand than he already did.

By the end of the shift, all T.K. could think about was how big of an asshole Owen Strand was. Owen was the type of guy who everyone thought was so amazing. He grinned, and he cracked jokes with the crew. He wasn’t afraid to dive into a dangerous situation, and he had all the makings of a ruggedly handsome fifty-something hero. For all the things that outwardly seemed cool about Owen Strand, he was grandiose, and T.K. recognized the carefully practiced smile of someone who had a dark history that hadn’t yet found its way to a light present.

Trying not to think of his captain, T.K. got in his car, and he could hardly believe how much he wanted to go home after being so insistent about needing to get out of the house. He went ten miles per hour over the speed limit and rushed in through the door with fresh rage he could never seem to shake. Carlos looked up as he threw his keys onto their hook and missed the hook, letting the keys hit the floor. He groaned and didn’t pick them up.

“Hey,” Carlos said, voice cautious. “How was today?” T.K. didn’t want to talk about it, but he also had no ability to keep his mouth shut.

T.K. throws his hands up, gesticulating wildly. “He wants to change the entire station with his espresso machine and new age crap like that would make things any better. He thinks Judd isn’t ready to come back. How crazy is that? Judd lives to be a firefighter.”

“What about you?” Carlos asked.

“What about me?” T.K. blared. He clenched his fists, already losing it when the conversation has barely started.

“Does he think you’re ready to come back?”

“He looked skeptical, but he didn’t say I wasn’t. He let me stay for the shift, but all we did was fucking bonding exercises. But it helped that I’d actually gone to my therapy. I didn’t tell him that my social worker boyfriend pushed me into it.” T.K. crossed his arms. “What does he know anyway? This guy thinks that he’s an expert on mental health. Like, you can’t tell just by looking at a person how well they are is doing. He told me that he still had concerns about me, but with Judd, he just flat out said that he wasn’t ready. How unfair is that? Judd’s been there since he got out of high school. It’s not like he’s forgotten how to fight fires. Most of the time we’re just doing medical calls and crowd control.”

“Maybe he’s right.” T.K. looked at Carlos like he was a traitor.

“Whose side are you on?” T.K. felt like a raw nerve. He’d felt like one since he was a child, and now, he kept blowing up at the people he loved the most, and ever since the explosion, he’d been worse. He dreaded opening his mouth because he didn’t know when something red hot would spew out before he could stop it.

“Yours. I’m always on yours, but what you went through was traumatic, and—”

“And nothing! You don’t get to define my trauma by telling me how I should feel or that I’m not ready to go back to work. I’m ready! I’m tired of sitting at home like an invalid. You don’t get how crazy I’ve been going here.” The comfort of being home was short-lived, apparently.

“I know that it’s been hard.”

“It’s been the worst time of my life, and you know what my childhood was like.”

“Maybe the captain won’t be as bad as you think.”

“Maybe he’ll be worse. What does a city slicker know about running a fire department in Texas? He’s going to ruin everything we built. The station looks like it’s from an architecture catalog, but that won’t do much when he lets the station go to hell with poor management.”

“One man can’t destroy the whole firehouse all on his own.”

“He’s hired outsiders. He searched across the country. What’s the matter with people we have here?”

“You don’t like your coworkers.”

“They’re fine, but that’s not the point. They don’t get what it’s like here either. These people don’t feel like family.”

“It takes time to get to know people. Isn’t it better that he’s looking for completely fresh faces instead of trying to replace the old ones?”

“No. Owen Strand has only just started, and he’s already making a mess of things.”

“He’ll adapt, and he’ll have you to help him.” At least T.K. still had a job to show up to. Judd’s prospects were a lot less settled. Owen Strand didn’t seem to change his mind easily.

“I have a policy about not doing favors for bastards.” T.K. said, plopping his body on the couch next to Carlos.

“You wouldn’t be doing a favor for a bastard. You’d be doing a favor for the people of this city. Even if this new guy doesn’t need it, they need your help.” T.K. wasn’t going to let people down no matter how awful he felt about the whole situation. He was the best person for the job, which was why he was going to have to play nice and vent his frustrations when he came home from work at night.

“I know, but it’s still going to suck. I’m too hot-blooded for this. God, I’m just like my dad.” Carlos pulls T.K.’s body away from his so that they can look at each other eye to eye.

“You’re nothing like him. You can get passionate, but you don’t hurt innocent people when you get mad, and you care about people other than yourself. I wouldn’t have married you if you were like him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure my mom didn’t intend on getting stuck with an abusive deadbeat either. It’s no wonder she... left me.” T.K. wondered how much he was like his mother. If he married to a man like Sam Avery, he figured he would have given up on life as well.

Carlos kissed T.K.’s temple. “You’re the best husband. I’m lucky to have you.”

T.K. leaned his head against Carlos’ chest. “I’m even luckier to have you. You put up with my craziness.”

Carlos smiled. “For now, and forever.”

“Life’s never going to be the same, is it?” T.K. couldn’t help but ask.

Carlos holds T.K. closer. “No, I don’t think that it is, but it could be good in its own way.”

“We’ll see about that, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything’s going to go up in flame.” In T.K.’s experience, never good lasted when the bad was so insistent on taking the joy.

One Monday later, Judd was finally allowed back after Grace had convinced the captain to let Judd came back, meaning that T.K. would have at least one ally at work. That knowledge did little to sweeten T.K.’s sour mood. T.K. had just had the weekend off, so going back to work for another week with Captain Thinks He’s Cool But Is Actually an Asshole was not T.K.’s idea of a good time.

Usually, he liked his job. He enjoyed helping people, and every time he saved someone else, T.K. felt like he was rescuing himself from parts of himself that he didn’t like to consider—his impulsiveness, his addictiveness, his restlessness. But with all the changes, T.K. felt little when he worked. There was a hollowness in his core that T.K. couldn’t fill as effortlessly as he once could. Work didn’t make him feel in control anymore. It made him worry that he was seconds away from a spiral because firefighting was once solid ground, but it had become a collapsed building, full of accidents waiting to happen.

The day was off to a bad start. A house fire left T.K. in a bad mood, but he didn’t think about that. Reminding himself of the details would only cause his brain to spiral, and he had a shift to finish. You need to stop being so crazy and get your act together. If you don’t get it together, you’re going to make a fatal mistake. T.K. wasn’t sure his job would ever be the same. What if I can never do my job normally again. What if I’m broken?

I should be dead, was the mantra repeating in his mind. It had been there for longer than he would have admitted. There was no reason why he had lived while his family had died in that catastrophic explosion. Every single person in that crew had been better than T.K. a million times over. T.K. was lucky to have known them all, and their acceptance of him had proven that life is happier when the best part of it was the people who surround you. They brought out the best in him, and then, they were gone. Now, T.K. was left with Carlos, Judd, and a mountain of issues that he had to battle. He couldn’t talk about those issues, though. Not if he wanted to keep himself marginally levelheaded.

“You’re spacey today,” T.K. heard, and he felt himself jolt at the interruption. Paul was right next to him with that look on his face. The one that T.K. was being analyzed in ways that made him want to dig a hole and hide for a few months until things had steadied and he didn’t feel dizzy all the time. T.K. tried to keep his distance from Paul because it was hard to hide from someone who was hyper-observant. T.K. knew a thing or two about hiding. He’d hidden his sexuality, he’d hidden all the shit that happened with his father, and he’d hidden how untethered he always was, even before the accident. He took comfort in all the things he never showed anyone. Even Carlos only knew a sanitized version of what went on in T.K.’s head, and life was less chaotic that way. It kept things compartmentalized.

“I’m just here to do my job.” But he wasn’t even good at that anymore. All the calls that could have gone wrong did, but blocked those thoughts from his mind. He’d been on the verge of a mental breakdown for a while, and he tiptoed the edge between being okay and not being okay carefully. As long as he could act okay externally, he could deal with the messy internal thoughts. No one could know that he was struggling. If they did, they’d think it was too early for him to be back at work, and that wasn’t the case at all. Work wasn’t the problem. It was everything else in his life that was falling apart. Work was the glue that was keeping him together. But it’s getting harder to pretend I’m okay. I’m tired, too tired for the façade.

T.K. wasn’t sure why Paul had come to bother him at all. Maybe he’d drawn the short straw. The new team should’ve known better than to approach T.K. when he was in a mood. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t going to be social with anyone at the 126 other than Judd. T.K. wasn’t planning on making friends, and he certainly didn’t want any concern from people he saw as nothing more than interlopers.

“I’m here to talk if you need it, man.” The consideration almost made T.K. soften. Because I’m weak. Damn Paul for being a good guy. T.K. had to remind himself not to let his guard down just because someone was nice to him. Maybe several years ago, he would have been pathetic enough to try to be friends with anyone who paid attention to him, but he was past being desperate for love. Love always seemed to turn up tragic, anyway, so he’d clutch onto the love he already had without making any more. Whoever said the more, the merrier didn’t know the joy of being alone.

“I have a husband for talking to,” And I haven’t felt like talking to him either. Or my therapist.

Paul’s face remained neutral. “A husband, huh? I think that’s the first personal thing you’ve said. What’s his name?”

T.K. resisted rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help the clipped tone that came out, “Don’t get used to information. His name is Carlos. That’s all you’re going to get.” I’m such an asshole. He hated how he couldn’t seem to stop himself from being a jerk. He’d been an asshole to Carlos when they first met as well. He’d said, “Go look somewhere else if you’re looking to use your hero complex,” when Carlos had bandaged T.K. after T.K. fought with his dad. T.K. still wasn’t sure how Carlos had gotten past that moment, that broken and pathetic moment.

Paul shrugged, saying, “Okay. That’s fine. I’m not trying to push anything,” and the response made T.K.’s blood boil with something he couldn’t identify—anger, anxiety, maybe fear. He expected more of a reaction when he was an asshole, and it made butterflies flutter in his stomach when people’s reactions were different than he anticipated. No, it was more like bulls stampeding in his stomach, running with heaviness and power. “But that was a bad call with the little girl, so if you need to talk to someone who gets it, any of us are willing. It doesn’t have to be me.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me off for being an asshole.” Childish defiance was brewing in T.K., and the more he wanted to make Paul’s expression change. “You obviously aren’t as observant as you claim to be because you haven’t noticed that I don’t plan to play nice with any of you. You’re only here because good men died. You’ve got awfully big shoes to fill, and you’re never going to fill them.”

Paul’s voice still didn’t raise. He pointed to his boots, “Luckily, I came with my own shoes, and I’ve filled them for a long time.” He stood from the bench and gave T.K. a pitiful look. “I get that you lost a lot, and no one is going to replace your old crew, but like it or not, you’ve gained a motley crew of people who don’t want the world to hurt other people like it hurt us. You don’t have to talk to us. You don’t even have to like us, but we’re here, so you might as well make the best of us.”

The anger dissipated from T.K.’s body. “I think I just need a few moments alone.”

Paul gave a small smile, “Take as many or as few as you need,” and with a nod, he was gone.

For all he wanted it to, the day didn’t end there. T.K. just wanted to go home, bury himself under his covers, and sleep, but he had thirteen hours left on his shift, and he’d have to suck up his bad feelings and try to get through.

Just two hours later, Marjan was the second member of the crew to corner T.K. When he saw her come up to him with an expression that screamed, “We’re having a serious talk,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed a groan. He liked Marjan. She was a badass with a quick wit and a heart of gold. What wasn’t to like? But while she didn’t have Paul’s extreme observational skills, she had a way of cajoling information out of people that almost made talking to her more dangerous.

“We’re going out to a honkytonk tomorrow night. You should come.”

T.K. brushed her off, “I’m kind of busy.”

“You’re busy a lot.”

T.K. tried to make a joke, “I get booked up months in advance.”

“Well, maybe you could squeeze us in some time.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” T.K. said, but he wasn’t going to make any promises. The exchange was short, and for the most part painless.”

It wasn’t even one hour later when T.K. was bombarded yet again. He looked at Mateo with an exasperated expression, “What is this? A let’s talk to T.K. revolving door?”

Mateo looked confused, “What?”

“Never mind,” T.K. shook his head.

Mateo was the member of the 126 who people too often underestimated. They looked at him and assumed that he was stupid or naïve and wouldn’t know anything. He was quiet, and there was a lot that he didn’t understand, but his ignorance had nothing to do with his intelligence or will. He just didn’t have the experience level that the rest of the crew had, but he was good with the details. He left nothing to chance, and he was the least likely of all them to cut corners. He was thorough with his relationships too, and he was so naturally caring that it was hard to turn him away and not give him something. His trustworthiness and his genuine concern made it hard for T.K.’s barriers not to melt just a little bit, but I have to be strong.

Mateo was brief with his speech, “We’re all just here to help each other out, and we need each other now more than ever.”

“I need my old crew more than ever,” T.K. said, meaning to sound stubborn, but it came off as desperate and too honest.

“We’re more than replacements. We can be friends.”

“You’ll be waiting a while if you want friendship.”

Mateo shrugged. “I’m good at waiting. Do you know how long it took me just to be a probie?” T.K. hadn’t paid attention enough to know the answer, but he did remember a lot of fretting about Mateo’s firefighter’s test a while back. “I don’t care about having to do so much grunt work, either. I’m just glad to be here.” The question is, Am I glad to be here too?

T.K. felt a rush of relief fill him when Mateo didn’t make him say anything more, but T.K.’s mind wouldn’t leave him alone.

The final few hours of his shift dragged. They ate dinner together, but T.K. wasn’t hungry. He pushed his food around as he thought of the little girl, and couldn’t shake the sickness in his stomach. He wanted to escape. He wanted a drug. He wanted a hug from Carlos. He couldn’t take it anymore. His mind was reeling with the defeat of the day. Excusing himself, he snuck to the bathroom just to escape being near other people.

He splashed water on his face, trying to wash the bad of the day from his face, but it didn’t budge. He heard a voice and spun around, feeling his heart beat faster. It was just Owen. T.K. felt the fear diminish but the residual panic was still in his body.

“Sorry about that,” Owen said. Turning the tap on and waving his toothbrush. “I need a quick refresh.”

“It’s fine,” T.K. replied half-heartedly, not wanting to look as distraught as he felt while also not wanting to invite a conversation. T.K. dried his face off and tried to make himself presentable before he’d have to go back and face the rest of his shift.

Before he could slip away, Owen stopped him. “T.K., hold on,” Owen said as he spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

Owen Strand was the member of the 126 that T.K. knew better than he wanted to know him. He talked a lot, and he pretty quickly revealed heaps of information, but T.K. knew that for as open as he appeared to be, he had secrets that he was guarding. He was choosy about what he revealed, but because he revealed a significant amount of stuff that didn’t really matter, he seemed open. T.K. recognized that in him because T.K. was exactly the same way. He made people feel like he was giving information away to distract from the secrets he kept. Though, he hadn’t even been doing that lately. He didn’t have the energy to spin a narrative just to keep people off his trail. There was so much else he had to handle, and the new 126 didn’t seem worth the effort of either divulging information or actively hiding information.

Owen picked up a comb and started fixing his hair. Of course, Owen of all people would have a post-meal beauty routine. “It’s been a hard day. Self-care is most important on hard days.” He handed T.K. some lotion. “Try this. It has chamomile. It’s supposed to be soothing.”

“No thanks,” T.K. said.

“Suit yourself,” Owen said, putting the comb down and using the lotion for himself. “Our job certainly doesn’t promote good skincare.”

T.K. didn’t even know what to say to that. “I guess not. Can I go or did you want to say something?” “I wanted to check-in.”

For all he tried to be civil, T.K. couldn’t stifle his groan. “You don’t have to keep asking me how I am.”

“It’s not just you that I worry about. I check in with the others too. You’re just more elusive than them.”

“You can’t tell me I’m more elusive than Judd.”

Owen grinned. “Hard to believe, I know.”

T.K. eyed Owen as he picked up cologne and dabbed it on his wrists and onto his neck. “It’s the little things that get you through the day. I know it seems silly, but I like smelling like myself,” Owen explained. He was one of those people who liked to hear his own voice. “A good scent can remind you that there’s something beyond the smoke.”

T.K. knew the smell right away. “That’s Black Valley by Oscar Simmons, isn’t it?” Even assholes can have good taste in cologne.

Owen raised his eyebrows. “You know it?”

“My husband wears it.”

“He must be a dapper man.” Owen looked impressed. “It’s an old scent for someone so young to wear.”

“Carlos says it’s a classic. I think he likes it because his dad passed it down to him. He’s always thought his dad was super cool.”

A flash of something dark flickered through Owen’s eyes. “That’s nice. Tradition is important. I’ve been wearing this scent for nearly thirty years. It’s been through a lot with me.”

“It’s been around that long?”

“I still have trouble believing that I’ve been around that long,” Owen said with a chuckle.

“I’m getting pretty close to thirty-years myself.” He still had four years before then, but he was closer to thirty than twenty. He felt ancient. The past few months had felt like years.

“Enjoy the time before your body starts getting creaky.”

T.K. cracked his knuckles. “It’s already there.” He sighed. “But at least I get to grow older. That little girl—” he caught himself before he said more.

“It’s hard to see kids die,” Owen commented somberly. “How are you doing with that?”

T.K. forced a smile, the normal almost friendly moment dissipating as tenseness settled between them. “I’m doing okay.” Owen was the captain, so if there was anyone that T.K. had to fool, it was him.

“It’s been a long shift. A child died, and that’s always hard. No amount of experience makes that easier.”

“No, but I’m not cracking up over it.” He sighed. “It’s just hard.”

“I know, but you don’t have to shut down your emotions. I don’t want robots as employees, so I won’t penalize you for having them. It’s good to process those things.”

“We still have time on the clock, so I’ve got to keep my focus.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Owen insisted.

“I didn’t say it was,” T.K. bit out. But it is, isn’t it?

“There was nothing you could have done.”

“Yeah, I know that,” T.K.’s voice was firmer now, but he couldn’t help the way it wavered at the end. “But I saved the villain.”

“You did your job.” Owen opened his mouth to say something else, but the alarm lit up, and a siren wailed through the firehouse.

“We’ll have to talk later,” T.K. told the captain, hurrying out of the captain’s office to get ready. He had no intention of talking. It’s best that way. Talking never leads to anything good coming out of my mouth.

It was nearly time to go home, and there was only one person who hadn’t yet had a heart to heart with T.K. As the only member of the crew to have a genuine relationship with T.K., Judd’s concern meant the most, but they’d never been the type of friends to have emotional conversations. They were brothers and would do anything for one another—Judd’s family often hosted T.K. for holidays, which they’d split with Carlos’ family—but they didn’t need heart to hearts to be close.

T.K. thought he was going to escape without a conversation with Judd until he saw Judd waiting by T.K.’s car.

“You have to let them in eventually,” Judd told him. T.K. had to admit that Judd was a changed person since he had started to go to therapy. Maybe that’s why he seemed so into having real conversations now instead of just talking about sports and married life.

“I don’t have to do anything,” T.K. insisted, and he sounded so much like a little brother.

“Kid,” Judd always called him kid when he was going into big brother mode, “They want to know you, and crews always work better when they trust one another.”

“I’ve given them no reason not to trust me. Just because I don’t share—”

“T.K., you’re not trusting them.”

“I trust them to do the job.”

“You won’t even tell them your favorite color.”

“I don’t have a favorite color.”

Judd sighed. “I’m not asking you to tell them every little detail about yourself, but if you want this to work, you have to give ‘em something.”

“Judd, I have to go.” T.K. looked at his watch, “Carlos is waiting for me, and I don’t want to be here longer than I have to.”

“Talk to him about what happened today. With everything with your dad—”

“He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Are you sure about that? Carlos told me he was back in town.” Judd shook his head. “Which you should have told me.”

“I should have known Carlos wouldn’t keep that a secret.”

“He’s worried. I am too.”

“Please, Judd. I want to go home.”

“Fine.” Judd sighed. “Just don’t be a stranger. Dad misses you at family dinners.”

“I’m doing my best, Judd. You of all people know it’s a lot to deal with it all.”

“I know. I’m still strugglin’. trust me the nightmares keep on coming, but I’m taking little steps forward, and I’m learning not to let bad days get me down so much. Our new crew is a good bunch of people, so I don’t want your fears to get in the way of you adding some new people to your life.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Judd patted him on the shoulder, “Well, whatever you are ain’t making you happy,” and wasn’t that the truth. I’m not sure happiness is in the cards for me.

When T.K. finally got home, the last thing he wanted to do was talk more, so he slid into his house and went directly to bed without saying more than a few words to Carlos. He tried not to let thoughts about the dead little girl infiltrate his mind, but he had nightmares of her burning in the fire. When T.K. woke up, Carlos was already at work, and T.K. knew he’d have to endure the day alone. He didn’t mind moping on his own, but he knew it was a bad day to have excess time. If things were normal, he would have bothered one of the crew to hang out with him, but his crew was dead, and it wasn’t a good time to burden Judd. Grace would understand, but like Judd, she already had enough to deal with.

He could have always called Carlos, who would’ve dropped everything to talk to T.K., but Carlos had already missed enough work, and he deserved some time away from the chaos that T.K. had dragged him into.

With Carlos gone for most of the day, T.K. tried and let himself recover, by the third hour of watching a soap opera that he didn’t understand, T.K. was at the end of his rope.

When Carlos did come home, T.K. wasn’t in a talking mood, but silence didn’t pair well with dinner. He knew it would help, but he didn’t want another night of trauma talk. For once, he just wanted to pretend that they were a normal couple who worried about normal things like what they were having for dinner or whether to paint the living room tea leaf or sea glass. T.K. tried to find something to say, but he couldn’t think of anything normal, so he just stayed quiet and asked Carlos what he had done at work.

Carlos talked about his day, but after T.K. asked him about what he did during his day for the fourth time, Carlos had enough. “You have to talk about it eventually.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Something’s bothering you.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Conversations are always pulling teeth with you.”

“Could you stop? I’ve had a long day.” He wanted to eat their meal without the rattling in his brain. For a while, he wanted to ignore all that was wrong with his life.

“You were off today.” And agonized by all my free time.

“The days blur together, I guess,” which was true. With odd shift schedules, T.K. sometimes lost track of what day it was or when the old day had turned over to a new one.

“You haven’t been talking to me since you got back to work.”

“I talk to you every day, Carlos.” T.K. wouldn’t be able to stop talking to Carlos, even if he tried. He’d lose his mind after the third day of silence. For as closed off as he was, T.K. couldn’t stand silence with anyone for long, and he’d lose his head when he thought people were giving him the silent treatment. If no one was talking, T.K. usually babbled just to fill the space. He didn’t have to do that as much with Carlos, though, or anyone he trusted. T.K. knew that Carlos would never use the silence as a weapon.

“Not about how you’re doing.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. I’m back at work and feeling better than ever.”

“You don’t just go from wanting to kill yourself to being fine.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was just a normal ‘I’m a fuck up who accidentally overdosed on a shit ton of oxy that didn’t even make me feel better.’” You’re a liar.

Carlos didn’t look convinced. “It doesn’t really matter what exactly happened that night. Whatever happened, you weren’t okay, and all that matters now is that it happened, and you need to address it. I want to know that you’ve been dealing with whatever you’re feeling in the right ways because going backward isn’t a choice.”

“I’m dealing as well as I can be.” He wasn’t telling the truth. He could have committed to his therapeutic process. He could have admitted that he had wanted to die when he took those pills. He could have told Carlos that despite all his bravado that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be back at work and that he wasn’t even sure that firefighting was what he wanted anymore. He could have admitted that more than just work was getting to him. But he wasn’t going to do any of that because it was easier for everyone if he dealt with his shit alone.

“Keeping to yourself isn’t dealing. It’s ignoring the problem.”

“I’m trying to spare you the angst.”

“No, you’re trying to spare yourself from dealing with your problems.”

“Why does everyone want to talk? Why can’t any of you let things go back to normal? We pretended I was fine before. Can’t we do that again?”

“That’s kind of the problem. The normal you want to go back to doesn’t exist, and the sooner you realize that the more stable your life will become.”

“I’m not going to do anything crazy.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve been more on edge lately, and I’m not sure if it’s because you’re back at work or because I told you that your dad was back.”

“I don’t care about my dad,” T.K. refuted too quickly.

“Fine, then this is about something else.”

Carlos wasn’t going to drop this, and T.K. couldn’t help the anxiety that blossomed in his chest or the rage that it turned into. “Why are you always such a busy body? You can’t leave me to have peace for five goddamn seconds?” He regretted yelling immediately, but with all the shame he felt for yelling, he became angrier, and he needed to be louder, or else he’d be consumed by whatever happened next. He needed to keep fighting or he’d go down. “You’re supposed to support me, not try to leech information from me just to be entertained by the fucking drama in my life.” He sounded paranoid and insecure, but when he was in a mood, he always spoke to keep control of the situation and make sure his voice didn’t fade.

“I know what you’re doing.”

The anxiety was bubbling more, and he wasn’t sure what to do to stop it. He didn’t even know why it was there but yelling temporarily dulled it. “I’m yelling at you like an asshole, that’s what I’m doing, but you can’t drop your sincere, loving husband act for two seconds.”

“You want me to lash out, but I’m not going to take the bait.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just a fucking asshole, Carlos. It’s not that deep. You’re so naïve that you think there’s something redeemable in every person. How crazy is that? Grow up and see that some people are just wasted. They’re going to break your heart, and they’re not going to care that they’re doing it.”

“You always do this when you’re upset.”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s not a master plan or a scheme! I’m just an asshole. That’s all. You should know by now that that’s all I am. You married me, and if you don’t know what I am by now, that’s pretty pathetic. You must’ve been desperate if you married me. Aaron must have really broken you. He—”

T.K. could see the heat burning in Carlos’ eyes, and he got a guilty surge of satisfaction of finally getting a hint of the response he wanted. “Shut up, T.K, and don’t give me that crap. Aaron devastated me, but I was fifteen and in the closet. He’s in the past, but you’re not. You know what you do? You try to control people’s reactions. You provoke them so they’ll get angry with you because you’ve learned that a predictable bad response is more secure than gambling on what you might get.”

T.K. rolled his eyes, “Keep your social worker talk out of this.” He wasn’t looking to be psychoanalyzed.

Carlos swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, you’re all about bringing up hard truths tonight, so I’m not holding back either. You’ve learned that being hit hurts a lot less when you’ve convinced yourself that you had it coming, so when you feel vulnerable, you try to make people mad so that they get angry when you see it coming.”

“Stop it,” T.K. warned.

Carlos didn’t stop, “If you make people angry, you don’t have to risk them feeling something you don’t know how to handle. You don’t have to worry that they’ll hurt you for no reason because when you get too close to someone, you always give them a reason to be angry.”

T.K. felt his eyes get glossy, but he’d learned long ago that crying made things worse, so he closed his eyes and willed the drops to retreat into his eyes. He felt Carlos’ weight settle beside him and felt a warm hand slip into his. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but you don’t get to dictate when I feel what. I want you to feel safe, but you’re never going to feel safe if you don’t learn to accept that you aren’t responsible for how other people feel, and you can’t control their emotions.”

“I can’t even control my own emotions. I feel like they’re always going crazy.” He couldn’t get a grip on what he was feeling. It had always been hard for him to process his emotions or even identify which one he was feeling at any given moment.

“That would be hard.”

“It was just an awful day.”

“I don’t know what happened, but you’re trying to punish yourself. There’s a part of you that thinks it’s what you deserve.” Because punishment stops the spinning in my head.

“Yeah, well, I really fucked up, Carlos.” Maybe he did deserve bad things. All of the bad things. I messed things up so badly, and I don’t there’s a way to make it okay.

“What happened?” Carlos’ voice was gentle but prodding.

“There was a little girl who died in a fire we were called to.”

“Did something happen to her?”

T.K. nodded. “Someone happened to her.”

“Arson?”

“No. Her dad had beat her and her mom up, and then, he set the house on fire to cover it up.” The amount of senseless violence T.K. saw never ceased to make him sick.

“Fuck, that’s bad.”

“Yeah, and it was all my fault what happened to her.”

“No, T.K. her death wasn’t your fault. I’m sure you did everything you could to save her. I know you.”

“She was dead when we got there.”

“What do you feel guilty over, then? You couldn’t have stopped it.”

“I know that there was nothing I could have done. I didn’t even know what had happened at the time, but I saved the wrong person.”

“What do you mean?” Carlos’ brows were furrowed as he struggled to understand what was bothering T.K. so much. Carlos’ face became animated with grim understanding. “You saved her dad.”

T.K. swallowed a lump in his throat. “I had to leave her body there while I carried her abuser out.” Logically, T.K. knew that he was doing his job, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left a living person behind out of spite, but he hated how unfair it was when the scum of the Earth could continue living while people who did nothing wrong didn’t get that same chance. He hated that he had no control over it. He was powerless to the whims of the universe. He was powerless to his future. He was powerless to old scars that still sometimes ached as if they’d just happened. I’ve always been so powerless. “The thing I really hate,” he confessed, “is that I would have saved my dad even if he had tried to do the same to me.”

“That shows that you’re the better man.”

T.K. wanted to sob, but he let out a choked, “I’m sorry, Carlos,” instead.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. T.K. had been an awful husband, and he couldn’t stand himself for it.

“It’s not. I’m an asshole.”

“No, he’s the asshole..”

“It’s an inherited trait,” T.K. concluded, feeling like the worst person alive. Carlos is too nice to see the truth. He doesn’t realize that he can do so much better. “And I don’t think I’ll ever escape it.”

#text #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #My writing #Elise Writes #My Fics #wip #7500 - 12500 words #saving the child inside

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charspnp · 5 years ago

Text

since we were kids

「 takami keigo x g/n! reader 」

warnings: slight angst with happy ending

masterlist

your ring burned on your skin, the bright pink shining proudly as you got into position. you and your partner, hawks, were trying to get people out of a burning building. you were left to fight as hawks glee up and got people out.

"is that all you got?" you yelled at the villain.

his hands sparked before producing more flames, throwing them at you. you activated your quirk, trapping the flames in bubbles, then popping them, putting out the flames.

he laughed coldly, he was slowly losing and he realized he wasn't gonna win. a large crimson wing appeared behind your back almost protectively as your long time best friend appeared beside you. you flashed him a smile and he returned the favor before you both turned back to the fire criminal.

his eyes widened and his hands started shaking, throwing more fire at you two, the amount becoming less and less. hawks distracted him and got up close as you went behind him and trapped him in a large bubble, immediately subduing him.

hawks laughed and you two high-fived, capturing a criminal once again. firefighters successfully put out the fire and cops came to get the villain. the people who were previously in the fire thanked the both of you.

this is why you became a hero- seeing so many smiling faces, thanking you for something you could do so easily (only beside hawks, though. you'd never admit he made your fighting capabilities better due to his already huge ego).

before any interviewers could get close, hawks grabbed you and flew up. you yelped a little, still somehow not used to randomly getting picked up by him dispite knowing him all your life. he chuckled and held onto you tighter.

your hands rested on his arms that were around your waist and he put his chin on your shoulder. though always unexpected, you did love flying with hawks. it's always so calming and nice.

soon enough, the sun had started to set, which means that hawks had to land soon. he hated flying at night with you because he was afraid something and would happen. eventually, he got to your house and landed on the veranda outside of your bedroom. he set you down and you quickly turned to face him and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and squeezing him. he hesitated for a second, shocked, before wrapping his arms back around you, holding you. he looked down at his right hand, the bright pink color of his ring shining through his black glove, taunting him. he hated how he met his soulmate yet doesn't know who they are. he thinks about it constantly and who it might be, the thought always in the back of his mind.

you inhaled before letting him go, a goofy smile covering your face. hawks couldn't help but smile back at you. god, are you pretty. a faded pink rose on his cheeks, only getting deeper the longer he looked at you. after about a minute of just looking at each other, you pulled away, heart almost beating out of your chest and you hoped to god he couldn't hear it.

"so, uh... i'll.. get going now," you whispered, not being able to speak any louder.

"y-yeah. i-i had fun today. y'know, defeating the villain and all."

"me too.."

before you got entranced by his face again, you quickly turned around and opened your door, entering your bedroom.

"i'll see you tomorrow, kei."

"yeah! see ya!" he felt suddenly excited as you used his real name- a rare occurrence even after so many years of knowing each other.

"night."

"g'night, dove."

you closed the door and the curtain followed, enclosing you in darkness. you sighed, your heart hurting. why does he have to be so perfect?

you took a deep breath and changed out if your hero costume and into your pj's. you overdramatically threw yourself into your bed before actually settling in. you stared up at the ceiling, the only light in the room coming from your shining ring.

you lifted up your right hand and touched the ring, the material being unmovable. it just glowed at you mockingly.

"who are you?" you whispered to yourself.

your ring had been pink for as long as you could remember. see, almost everyone gets a ring on their right ring finger. if the ring doesn't appear by the age 20, you're deemed to not have a soulmate. yours appeared at age 6, only being pink as you grew up. the color of the ring depends on how your soulmate feels. for example, the ring will turn red if they're angry, green if they're happy, blue if they're sad, etc. it turns pink when you meet your soulmate and black when they die.

that's why you're so confused. your ring had always been pink. you already met your soulmate. with your luck, it was probably someone who had held the door for you or picked something of yours up when you dropped it, then disappeared never to be seen again. you probably already lost your chance to meet them and "fall in love" like all your friends have. every time someone asked you about your soulmate after seeing your ring, you just responded with the normal answer: "oh, i don't know who they are. it's been pink for as long as i can remember" and they always have you the same sympathetic smile and nod.

you sighed and let your hand fall back down on your stomach. you rolled over and closed your eyes as the day finally came down on you, sleep enveloping you.

-----

you woke up in the middle of the night to your ring tone- it was chickens clucking, signifying that it was hawks calling you. you groaned and grabbed your phone off your nightstand, answering the call.

"what's up?" you asked, yawning.

"is this l/n y/n?" a female voice asked on the other line.

confused, you sat up, "yeah, who is this?"

"my name is jira tonori, im a nurse, and you're the only person on takami keigo's emergency contact list. im calling to inform you that he has been admitted into hosu general hospital."

"o-oh... um, i-i'm on my way." you responded, feeling awake all of a sudden.

"okay, see you soon."

you quickly hung up and jumped out of bed, not bothering to change (unless you have like,, no pants on-), putting on your shoes and running out of the house. you borderline sped to the hospital and ran out of your car to the entrance of the building.

you stopped at the front counter, getting a few weird looks from people in the waiting room, but you didn't care. your mind was flooded with what happened and what could happen.

out if breath, you quickly said, "i-i'm l/n y/n, here to see takami keigo."

the lady nodded and responded, "he's in room 23c."

you nodded and ran to the elevator, pressing the up button multiple times as your thoughts got worse. the door opened and you stepped into the surprisingly empty room, pressing the level 3 button. you ran your hands through your hair.

the door dinged and you once again ran down the hallway, the numbers of each room flying by until you got to 23. the door was already opened and you heard talking coming from inside. you jogged through the doorframe, your eyes locking on hawks' and you flung yourself toward him, ready to take him into a hug before you saw the bandage wrapped around his torso, some of it being spotted with red, and you stopped in front of his bed.

"y/n!"

"keigo!"

his heart swelled at the sight of you and you using his real name. his chest was filled with a strange warmth he only felt around you. you put your hands on his arm and looked at him, searching for something- what you were looking for was lost to him.

the nurse beside him spoke up, "um, takami-san, i think you need to calm down a bit," she chuckled nervously.

you both looked at her, suddenly hearing his heart beat going a mile a minute. hawks blushed and looked away. you smiled a bit, as did the nurse.

she noticed your pink rings and made her way out of the room, saying, "i'll leave you two alone, but be careful."

an unusual silence filled the room. it was awkward and foreign, as one of you was always talking when you were together.

"what... what happened?" you asked quietly, looking at his face, which now had cuts on his lip and eyebrow, as well as a slight black eye. you'd also previously noticed how his left wing was bandaged and his right was weakly spread beside him.

"someone jumped me on my way home," he spoke, looking down, "they pulled at my wings and beat me up before i even knew what was happening. they even stabbed me a few times." that explains the bandage.

his voice sounded unusually tired and weak. he didn't bother to make eye contact with you, hating how weak he already looked in front of you.

you sighed, "are you okay, though? is it anything, like, deathly?"

he shook his head, "no. their biggest concern is me bleeding out, but that's very unlikely."

you nodded before looking back at his face. you looked from the dry blood on his forehead to the dirt on his chin. you reached out and cupped his cheek. he immediately leaned into your soft and warm palm, loving the feeling (he had to stop himself from cooing at the simple sign of affection).

"im so happy you're okay," you told him.

"me too. i'd hate the thought of you being without me, dove."

whether it was stroke at his ego or genuine concern, you smiled at the sentence. you wiped a stray price of blonde hair from his face and he almost audibly coo'd at the action. you giggled under your breath, knowing how much he enjoyed your touch.

"you should get some sleep. im sorry for having to wake you up in the middle of the night." he said to you.

"it's okay, pretty bird," he blushed at the name, "im really just happy you're not dead. but, you should get sleep, too. i can't imagine what this did to you."

he chuckled softly and his face almost instantly turned to pain as he groaned and put his hand over his stomach. you caught a glimpse of his rig as he did so. your breath got caught in your throat as you saw the color of his ring.

pink? he found his soulmate? why didn't he ever tell me?

though you knew him for so long, and saw him close to every day, he never allowed you to see his ring. you never knew why, but now you see. he knows his soulmate. you just wondered why he never told you. did he not trust you? did he n-

your thoughts were interrupted by him speaking, "yeah, so, uh, you should go home now, i guess. you still have to work tomorrow."

you tore your eyes away from his hand, "home? work? oh please, im staying here with you for as long as it takes."

he shook his head, "no, y/n, it's okay, really, y-"

this time you cut him off, "im staying here whether you like it or not, keigo."

he immediately shut up at your use of his given name. you turned and sat in the chair behind you. you settled into the small chair and hawks smiled at your cute form. he then turned his head to look up at the ceiling. the room once again had a silence, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as earlier. the only sounds heard was his steady heartbeat shown on the monitor by his side, and your soft breathing. he knew as soon as you got comfortable, you passed out. he followed soon after, his body weak and in need of energy.

-----

you were woken up more violently as you had been previously to a sharp 'beeeeep!' and rushed voices and yells. you weren't able to make out what was happening before you were escorted out of the room.

as you stood in the hallway, someone closed the door, blocking you out from your childhood friend once again. things started registering and you had realized what was happening. hawks' heartbeat monitor had suddenly gone flat.

hawks died.

hawks died and you were sleeping.

millions of thought ran through your head yet again. you covered your mouth with your shaky hands and slid down the wall behind you. you right hand reached your face and you jerked it back, feeling how dangerously cold the material of the ring was.

it turned black. your soulmate died.

millions of more thoughts ran through your head. you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and everything started getting blurry and you felt dizzy and nauseated.

hawks is your soulmate? was your soulmate? holy shit, how have you not noticed? you'd known him since you were kids- since before your ring appeared on your hand.

he'd been there through everything. every heartbreak you had, every obsession you had, hell, he was even there when you almost fucking died in a car crash. and now he's the one dying.

you felt like you were gonna pass out. all you could hear was the loud beep of his heartbeat monitor and the voices of the doctors in the room of the man you'd known for so long- had a crush on for so long- was your fucking soulmate.

you heard a final "clear!" before a faded beeping reached your ears. everything was eerily silent beside that beeping. your ring felt like fire on your finger, a terrible (yet amazing) contrast on how it previously felt.

you looked at it, the rig now shining brighter than it ever had. it was pink. you laughed, tears you didn't know were there rolling down your cheeks. to any passerby, you probably looked crazy, but you never felt better.

hawks was alive.

the door opened and a doctor stood there, looking at you on the floor, weak as ever. you made eye contact and he moved out of the doorframe, allowing you to go in the room. and you did. you sprinted into the room and to hawks' side. he looked at you and you hastily leaned down to press your lips to his.

surprised and clueless as to what was happening, hawks took a second before kissing you back with almost as much passion as you. you cupped his cheeks and he held your wrists tight, not wanting to let go of you, afraid he would almost lose you again. your rings burned against your skin and you smiled into the kiss. his lips felt like heaven on yours, they were slightly chapped but you didn't care. you had waited so long for this, wishing for so long he was your soulmate. and now your wish had come true. you had everything you wanted.

----------

requests: open, 4-30-20

2.5k words! i know i could've ended/just in general written this better but my head is empty- anyway, i have two fics in the works and one finished :)

#how do i end this-#hawks x reader #hawks imagine #hawks bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #hawks x reader imagine #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo imagine #charlie writes

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homeinda-blue · 5 years ago

Text

TK character study

There are things that totally makes sense to me, the more I got to know about TK. With a mom who worked (works) as a lawyer and Owen who worked (works) as a firefighter when TK was young, he probably grew up in daycare, being accustomed by others. When I think about TK as a kid, I see this lonely little boy, sitting on the carpet, playing with his fire truck and his parents arguing in the backround. I can picture him as this kind of kid that was picked up from day care/kindergarten last by his parents. Later his parents split up (one reason might be Owen spending so much time at the firehouse after 9/11, having issues to deal with his trauma), so TKs mother got full custody and he barely saw Owen for a while.

Then TK grew older and by that his parents might have worked even harder/more intensive. He probably switched between his mom and dad. One weekend he stayed with Owen, the other weekend he stayed with his mom or he stayed with Owen a lot when she was on a business trip. Being a firefighter, I can picture Owen worked long shifts what probably left TK a lot on his own. Maybe he interacted with the wrong people then, who had a really bad influence on him. When I think about him of being 16 or 17, I see him partying, drinking and taking drugs for the first time. His mom might have already been out of sight already.

After school he probably fell in a hole and might have continued with bad habits. This could have been the time where he was into alcohol and drugs so much, that he OD’d for the first time. Since, it’s not so clear if Owen found him (from what he said by “Damn it, TK, you promised me that would never happen again” we can guess so), we can be sure, that he already had a history of drug abuse in some way. It’s not clear, if he went to rehab after that, but it’s possible.

Somehow Owen must have force him to make a choice (or probably rehab helped him), so he became a firefighter. Maybe Owen must have pulled some string, cause I’m not sure how he got accepted at the fdny with a history of drug abuse otherwise.

However this choice has a deeper meaning to me. He adored his dad and at the same time his inner will could have been to spend more time with him/be like him, so this strengthened his decision.

Finally he was assigned to his dads company. We can guess that Owen pulled some strings again, to have an eye on TK. Later TK moved to his own apartment and fell in love with a man called Alex. There is not much we know about Alex. He just seemed to be loved a lot by TK and he finally wants to ask him to get married.

When Alex told TK that he wants to split up, his world breaks down. At this point I still feel like the authors hid something from us, since I can’t imagine that the break up from Alex might be the only drastic reason that leads to TKs decision to try to kill himself. Finally he doesn’t succeed because Owen has the sense of a father and feels that something might be wrong with his kid. He finds TK unconscious and has to perform CPR on him. Luckily, it’s successful and TK pukes, opens his eyes and cries in his fathers arms. To me it is a really powerful scene, cause I think that not any father would have done the same. Later they sit on a roof and Owen set up some rules for him. If TK wants to get out of this, he has to do it his way. Finally he forces him to move to Austin with him. At this point you can feel how well Owen knows his child. He realizes that TK would be dead if he stays any longer in NYC and that the only way out might be to move to Texas with him. Knowing that TK wouldn’t be strong enough to live on his own, they move in together. For what it looks like a few month, they work and live together until TK gets shot. Having another near death experience TK questions his life and realizes that his only reason for becoming a firefighter might have been the wish to spend more time with his dad. Time, he probably never had as a kid and that he wants to catch up on now by working with him.

Later he rescues a woman and realizes that he fits in his shoes. He stops questioning his decision. In this moment I had the feeling that he identifies himself with Owen and that he values life and gets out of the dark side (remember, he nearly killed himself).

So from all this, it’s easy to see how and why TK developed how he developed.

That’s why I always say: Never judge someone. First look what his past was like.

#911 lone star #tk strand #owen strand

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fineosaur · 5 years ago

Photo

i suppose you’ve come down to help me

| part one |

happy birthday @valsore! here’s a part two to the firefighter!Gendry x vet!Arya au

part two (smut warning)

The glare from the screen and the clicking of her pen became somewhat hypnotic. It was a slow day, nothing in particular happened, to say the least not much could top the night of the fire. He hadn’t called her yet, though she wasn’t one to dwell, she still wondered why? She thought of the cold breeze of the night, the overly large jacket she wore and the hands that travelled under it.

”Arya. Arya. Arya!” A soft voice broke Arya out of her daydream about a particular firefighter.

”Mhm yeah?” Arya answered, still somewhat lost as she looked up from her computer screen to the blonde woman in front of her.

”What were you thinking about?” Myrcella asked with a snigger. She still hadn’t gotten the time to tell her friend about her one time tryst with a firefighter, Gendry, she remembered with a smile. “You’re blushing! What is on your mind? Tell me, this day is getting awfully boring.”

Myrcella rolled one of the other office chairs by Arya and took a seat, setting her papers down near her keyboard. Arya turned her head to face her giddy friend, sighing before trying to hold back a giggle. “Okay, you’re going to like this,” she thought for a moment on how to rearrange her train of thoughts, “So d’you remember the night where there was that fire? Like a week ago when we both worked a night shift.”

After thinking for a second, she nodded, her blonde ponytail bobbing with the motion, “Yeah, what about it?”

She was impatient, Arya thought, holding in her laughter at it. “Well, I thought it was some false alarm or drill we were doing, so I was still looking for-“ she paused for a second in thought, “God, I don’t even know why I was in the storage room.” Arya searched her brain, but all that came up from that night were strong shoulders and a black vest.

”Arya!”

”Right, yeah, so I stayed back… until one of the firemen came in, dragging me out and into the parking. Obviously at this point I realised it wasn’t a drill,” Arya now turned her chair to face her friend rather than straining her neck. “Well we were alone in the parking lot, waiting for the rest of his team, apparently he was sent to get me in particular because someone, I’m assuming Shireen, knew I was still inside ignoring the alarm.”

”You were alone in a dark parking lot with a firefighter who saved you?” Myrcella’s emerald eyes widened at the implication. Of course it was a cliché in a certain light, but she still wanted to explain it in her own way.

”Yes. We were alone, I was bored and cold so we started talking,” Arya tried to fight back her smile as she thought about the tall, ebony haired man. “Listen, I don’t even know how we went from talking to his tongue being in my mou-“

Myrcella’s squeal cut her off, “You made out with a fireman as the clinic burned!” She held onto Arya’s shoulder to stop her toppling over as she laughed.

”Wait wait, you’ll find this bit funnier,” Arya couldn’t stop herself from laughing along with her friend, “We made out, while I was propped up on the hood… of your car.”

The laugh the flaxen haired woman let out this time dissipated into a silent one as she clutched her abdomen. Arya could tell by her intakes of breath, that Myrcella wanted to say something about her story but her guffaw hindered the ability to talk. “What was he like?” She finally let out, taking in short inhales to fill her lungs once more.

”He was-“ Arya thought about the deep blue pools of his eyes, the hair that fell into them and took a deep breath before trying to put it into words, “he was singular. He was so quiet, tall. You know what, I’m going to be stupid as hell and say he’s what they call ‘tall, dark and handsome’. Not to mention his tongue was wasted on a kiss.”

Arya held onto the table in front of her for support as Myrcella shoved her for her comment. “You are despicable, woman. Did you get his number? Tall, dark and handsome is not a proper description you know.”

”Fine, he was really fit. He took off his jacket for me, leaving him in this tight black vest, I still have so many thoughts about that vest,” she’d admit to herself that she wished he’d call but not to anyone else, not even Myrcella. “His shoulders were exactly what shoulders should look like. I can’t even go on, just know he was fit. His hair was really dark which set his light blue eyes apart, I’d never seen eyes like that.”

”Did you get his number?” Myrcella reiterated.

”No, I didn’t. I suppose I should have-“ she thought for a second before divulging the rest, “I did give him mine though. He didn’t call.”

”Ugh, his loss,” Arya felt warmth from her friend’s quick dismissal of the man. “Guess we have to get back to work then?” Myrcella asked, tucking her chair away.

”Yeah.”

Taking a sip of the frothy drink in front of her, Arya stared out of the large glass pane on her right rather than the book in her hand. She was tired, long shifts and restless nights for reasons unknown. She hadn’t realised she was so entranced by the cars passing by until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped to the source of her name being called.

“Arya?” Gendry asked, the smile plastered on his face that fell at her silence. “Right, I’m Gendry from last week… The Fire Department?” He had thought she’d forgotten him.

“No, no I know,” A small smile rose to her lips, “I remember.”

“May I sit?”

“Of course,” Arya gestured to the chair opposite hers. He was even hotter in the daylight, fuzzy coffee shop lights and all. She bit her lip as she studied him, his broad shoulders that begged to be bitten in the tight t-shirt he wore, even his sable strands that she wanted have entwined in her fingers.

“-embarrassingly enough I wanted to drop by the animal clinic,” she’d zoned out on his sentence when she was checking him out. He looked at her like he was holding back a grin or laugh as she gaped at him. “Did you catch any of that?”

“Embarrassingly enough? No,” she teased.

“I’d like to get your number again, please?” He asked as he leaned forward against the table, his disposable coffee cup blocking part of the serene view that was him.

“What happened to the one I wrote on you?”

“Well if you’d listened, you’d know,” he jibed before conceding, “lost to the shower, my fault that.” Arya watched him lick his lips before bringing his coffee cup to them. His clear eyes, though icy in colour, burned a path through her core as they lingered on her. Her lungs suddenly felt empty from his stare, she’d forgotten she needed to be giving him her number.

He slid his phone in front of her as his eyes saw only her. “Don’t lose this one,” she joked, sliding his phone back to him.

“Are you busy this weekend?” He asked with a hopeful gaze.

“I’ve got Saturday free,” she offered.

A firm knock at her door let her know Gendry had arrived, just on time she thought. Arya quickly checked herself out a last time before heading to the door. She peered through the peephole, seeing Gendry run his hand through his hair. Taking in a small breath, Arya fiddled with the chain lock before opening the door slowly. She watched as his eyes widened at the sight of her, his hand slipping from his hair to rest on his chin. He stood rooted outside her door, his eyes slowly taking in the thin black lace knickers that scantily hid parts of her from his view. She fought the smirk that made its way to her face as she saw the sharp inhale he took at the sight of her barely hid breasts in her bralette.

“You’re on time,” She stated nonchalantly as she gestured for him to come in.

“Uh, yeah, you look-“ He took in another breath, “you look great.” His eyes left her for a moment, watching her hands as she took his car keys out of his hands and set them on a table.

“Great?” She bit her lip to hold in her laugh at how flustered he was. He wasn’t expecting this, she thought. As he rubbed the back of his neck, she pulled him down by his t-shirt, he was so tall; she could probably climb him. Arya brought her lips to his as he leaned down, accepting the tug at his clothing. It took a short time before he properly relaxed into the kiss. Now moving his strong hands to explore her mostly naked body. His thumb traced the waistline of her knickers, she felt him chuckle against her lips, pulling her body closer to his.

Arya lead him into a wall the thud of his back against it brought them apart, making him look down at her . “What are you laughing at?” She asked, unable to hold back her own laughter as he gazed at her.

“You look beautiful,”Gendry told her, the look he had when he said it made her heart flutter. Arya bit her lip, trying to stop herself from smiling as she dove into the blue that was his eyes. “Again with the lip biting, if you want me dead, say it.” Arya only shook her head, still biting her lip.

“You’re stupid.”

“Yet I have you like this,” Gendry countered, eyeing her.

“And what are you going to do about that?” Arya watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Ah, that tongue, she thought. Gendry’s hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing the line of her lip. Arya held onto his hand, instead moving it to cup her lace covered breast, thumb now tracing her stiff nipple.

“I like this.”

“What my tits?”

“No, I mean of course-“ sighing and laughing lightly before continuing, “I was talking about this.” He told her, hooking the strap of her bralette in his finger, before releasing it with a snap. The gesture made her pulse quicken.

This time Gendry kissed her, hard and fast, his touch was dizzying. Between kisses she relieved him of his t-shirt. Her hands finally rested against the hard muscles of his torso, the sinewy feeling of him was better than anything she would have imagined up herself. Her nails grazed against his chest lightly as they travelled up, passing the light dusting of his dark chest hair and gripping the back of his neck instead, to pull him closer. His hands skirted the lace of her knickers, toying with the elastic before his fingers brushed against her inner thighs.

Arya pulled away from his lips, biting them lightly before looking up at him. Her hands settled on the waistband of his trousers, thumbs sliding against the leather of his belt. She dragged him by his belt, hoping to lead him to her bedroom before she accidentally bump into the dining table. His eyebrows raised slightly at their halt.

“Oh?” he knew what she meant, right?

“Here?” He asked incredulously before licking his lips. Arya shoved him slightly so that he was no longer cornering her onto the surface of the table, instead, flipping them so that he was leaning against it.

“Here,” she stated, caputuring his lips into another kiss. His hands came to rest on her backside, squeezing slightly as he tried to lessen the space between them.

Her hands ran across his shoulders before trailing down between them, tugging at his belt, trying to unbuckle it. His hands continued their circles, going underneath the fabric of her underwear but not making a move to take either garment off. Maybe for once the lingerie wouldn’t be looked at for a second an taken off in the next.

When his hands ceased their movements, resting on her waist, Arya felt him pull away from her lips. With a swift motion he spun her, she felt the warmth of his bare skin against her back. Gendry’s one hand was a vice on her thigh, the other cupping her breast through the underwear. He laid kisses along the planes of her shoulders, every now and then moving to bite her neck.

Arya pried the hand off her thigh, guiding it past the side of her knickers. His hands, his fingers. She threw her head back onto him, resting on his shoulder. His other hand moved to her neck, cupping her face and tilting it towards him, kissing her again.

Gendry slid two fingers into her as his tongue slid against her own. Her moans, as he curled the digits inside her, were muffled by his mouth.

His hair felt soft between her fingers, she was also holding onto his arm that hovered by her waist as his fingers toyed with her. His thumb pressed down on her clit, pushing her back against him. She felt the rumble of his groan as the motion made her grind against his constrained length.

“You’ve got to stop moving,” Gendry told her breathily, gasping when she arched herself once more against him.

“Why’s that?” Her question made his thumb press down harder on her nub making her lids flutter. “Just fuck me.” Given the way Gendry released her and twirled her back to face him, those were the right words.

He kissed her with force, his fingers still slick from her held the back of her thigh to lift her onto the table. Arya’s lips left his, instead giving him a heated glare as she leaned back against the table, her elbows propping her up. When he spread her legs, she half expected him to just get it over already, instead she saw him lean down. A smug smirk spread across his face as pushed her knickers aside just enough to allow his tongue to trail up her folds. His eyes never seemed to leave hers, her eyes flittered shut only to open and see those darkened eyes, crystal rings barely visible. His tongue teased her, coming to rest on her clit for only a second to hear her sounds just to slide down again making her whine. He wanted her to beg, she thought.

Arya’s head snapped up to look at him, watching him lift his head slightly to give her a small laugh. She opened her mouth to finally yield, the thought died as he swirled his tongue on her clit, his two fingers sliding into her again. Arya’s elbows gave away, throwing her back against her table, her own fingers weaving themselves back into his inky locks.

Her back arched as she mentally noted her correct judgement on his tongue. “Fuck, Gendry,” She growled at him, his fingers angled and curled themselves inside her.

Just as she felt herself close to her climax, Gendry pulled away, tongue and fingers no longer touching her. She whined at the loss of him. The sound of his zipper raised her hairs, finally.

“You look incredible,” He said as he pulled her closer to him, the tip of his length prodding at her entrance. She wasn’t sure if it was his words or his cock that sent shivers up her spine. Arya lifted her back off the table, wanting to be closer to him.

He slowly sheathed himself inside her, her legs wound themselves around his hips as her arms did the same around his neck. “You’re not too bad yourself,” she japed. His laugh turned into a groan as her legs pulled him in, inserting his length in a swift motion.

He leaned his forehead down against hers as he thrusted, his thumb played with the strap of her bralette once more, this time lowering the strap to reveal her breast. He cupped the mound, goosebumps spreading at the feeling of his hand on her.

Arya’s legs wound tighter around him, moaning at his rhythm. Gendry’s hand came between them, splaying against her stomach to push her onto her back against the table. She conceded, her hands releasing his hair and instead gripping the table.

When his finger circled her clit between them, his other hand cupping the back of her knee and hitching her leg up. Arya’s hand held onto his hip, nails digging into him as her back arched against the hard wood of the table. Feeling the wave of her orgasm hit her, her head tipped back, wood hard against her skull. Only hearing his pants and him utter a strained “Gods you’re incredible.”

He was the incredible one, though.

Arya’s laid on her back, limbs limp as her and Gendry tried to catch their breaths on the sofa. She felt his breathing against her stomach, now even, unlike the heavy breathing they’d both been reduced to earlier. His eyes were closed as his head rested on her stomach. This time her lingerie really had been disposed of, both of them lying naked now. Her fingers twirled his black locks, she felt like all the tension had dissipated from her body. His arms were loosely wrapped around her torso, it felt warm and comforting to just be laying with him, spent from hours of fumbling rather than the date they were supposed to go on.

#gendrya fics #one shot #smut #fanfiction #my writing #arya x gendry #arya stark #gendry waters #Fire Fighter!Gendry #Vet!Arya #got #asoiaf #fineosaur

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florafaunaandeldritchhorrors · 6 years ago

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instead of a chapter this week, here’s my writeup of how the first session of DIE went with my group. (sorry) (hopefully this is as entertaining)

In 2007, Tomb of the Worm King, a high fantasy-in-space mmorpg, launched. Three months later, it closed before the Worm King raid was even released. During the beta, the developers grouped testers together into artificial guilds... and after the game fell apart, our group of testers tried to homebrew a trpg system in order to keep playing. Needless to say, it didn’t go well.

It’s 2027 now.

Below the cut: everything my players are not allowed to read. Starting with the DM prep I did, if you’re planning a game and just want to read that.

Prep:

It wasn’t feasible for me to bring my laptop to the space where we play, so I had to try to write down everything that I wanted to remember for the session that wasn’t already on the cheat sheets.

Things I ended up needing that I prepped: short versions of who to give the archetypes to, the long list of monster special abilities to create a custom fallen on the fly, rules for the Dictator targeting multiple people, melee/close/medium/far range rules.

Things I prepped and didn’t need this time, but probably will: God Debt rules, other ways to bring a Fallen back (taking memories sounds rad).

Things I forgot and wished I had written down: That the Neo’s systems coming online is supposed to be dramatic and have visual effects, that the book recommends offering a major miracle in the first encounter.

For Fair Gold, I tried to clean some pennies but ended up tarnishing them. Luckily, the person who’s condo complex we play at had some gold spray paint and we did that after the first session. For cheat tokens, I’m using popsicle sticks marked on one side, because the world’s oldest board game used them instead of dice, and Kieron says he like using weird dice but it gets confusing.

Oh, and we ended up making folded name thingies for our personas, like we were still in middle school. That was a good idea.

The Cast:

Franz Gibson, a volunteer firefighter who quit his job as an accountant after he found out his wife was cheating on him with his boss. Has twin 7-year old boys who he misses terribly, and only weekend visitation. Was 17 in 2007. Playing Whylock the Enlightened, a Godbinder. Core desire: feels out of place in real life, more out of place in the game.

Sophia Twist, a Dickensian orphan who was 12 in 2007 but pretended to be 17. Inspired by Tomb of the Worm King, went to school to become a computer scientist, but decided not to go into game dev and became a cyber security expert. Playing Intel, a Neo. Core desire: I’m guessing her parents.

AJ Bryant, a culture reporter by day and youtuber by... afternoon? Started as a Let’s Play channel, but came out as a trans man and started transitioning a few years into it, and ended up doing a lot of leftist reactions to current events. Was 16 in 2007. Broke up with his boyfriend of over 4 years just under a year ago, and spent six months completely out of it. Playing Jett, a Dictator. Core desire: wants the privacy he was denied when he became a minor internet celebrity young.

Thomas Bryant, an accountant who hates being called Tommy. Was 14 in 2007, which made him the group baby. Worked at Walmart for a long time, but eventually went back to school to get his current job. Has been on and off with his boyfriend Michael for four years, and was planning to break up again, except Michael’s mom just died. Ouch. Playing Genevieve, an Amazement Knight. Core desire: not sure, but maybe boredom? Boredom got him to go back to school, and he is playing a knight of surprise.

Tripp Declan, a skeezy used car salesman and former frat boy. Was 17 in 2007. The less said about his attitude towards women the better, but his core drive is a fear of getting older. Playing Flip, the magnificent Fool.

Elena Forbes, who in 2007 was 21 and secretly a developer monitoring the group’s dynamics. After Tomb of the Worm King shut down, revealed her true identity to the group. Recently laid off just before a game shipped, so her name won’t be in the credits, so she can’t claim the game on her resume. Many years ago, warned Sophia not to go into game dev. Artistically frustrated. The Master, of course.

Yes, I named my persona by mashing up two characters from The Vampire Diaries, knowing no one else at the table had ever watched it.

(setting it in 2027 turned out to be a mistake, because whenever I prod people for popular culture they get vague because we don’t know what people in 2027 will be watching/reading/playing. but also, most of our players were 10 years old in 2007, and pushing back our teenage years back too far would be weird. and I wanted that where-did-my-life-go feeling from the comic.)

The Session:

During persona generation, I make sure to say Elena lives in a place with a space like the room we were playing in. I also take the hit as the person who falls prey to the Geek Social Fallacies enough not to kick Tripp out for being a creep. There’s an interesting divide between the players who work out their personas aloud and the ones who want to have a nearly-finished product before they say anything.

During character creation, when Tripp reads the beginning of the Fool’s character sheet aloud everyone groans at “their friends have to deal with the consequences”. This will probably happen with a lot of groups, if you give the Fool to the obvious candidate.

We ordered food in between persona generation and character creation, but we actually ate it in between character creation and getting sucked into the game world. This worked out great because doing character creation entirely in character was a bit much for me, so we ended up eating dinner as our personas instead. Turns out Franz has the same nut allergy as his player, but his sons love peanut butter. A modern tragedy.

After being sucked into the fantasy world, Elena transforms into Vesuvia, High Priestess of the Worm King and recognizable NPC from the old game. I don’t highlight that she transforms after grabbing her die hard enough, and have to make the other dice glow in order to prompt my players. Thomas tries to grab Tripp’s die when they’re the only two left, and I almost want to let it happen, but then I imagine running Tripp as an Amazement Knight and... nope.

Before the fighting starts, Thomas’s sword tells him to look at the door opposite the one the Fallen use to enter, ensuring that he’s surprised. I don’t give him a disadvantage on initiative, but when he ties with someone, I make him go second.

The first encounter reskins the Fallen as the Xenomorph ripoffs from Tomb of the Worm King’s starting zone, except they’re cybernetic in a way they weren’t before. After the first round of combat, a knockoff Xenomorph queen appears—the final boss of the only raid that the game launched with. Elena’s sent it as part of the first encounter to demonstrate that she’s done with old content. It’s time to get to newer things.

The Neo hasn’t read her character sheet completely and is very surprised when I tell her she has a slot in the back of her neck. Her AI System is more fun to act as than the Knight’s “aggressive” sword. The Lady of Ashes—the Godbinder’s fire god—is more fun than either. (Luckily he only casts fire spells this session, so I get some time to think about his other two gods: Brightbearer and the Master of Windows.)

After they defeat the Fallen, Thomas opens the door his sword pointed out to him earlier revealing... the Academy, part of the game’s starting zone. End of session. We go spray paint some coins.

Plans:

Give Sophia a chance to save her parents. Give Franz a chance to one-up James. Tempt Tripp with beautiful women. Unsettle AJ with the fact that as a Dictator, he doesn’t have any more privacy here than in the real world.

Tomb of the Worm King didn’t give the players spaceships, just teleportation pads for jumping between planets. Give players a choice between hopping between pads to get to the final encounter or going overland to find and defeat those guarding the pad that brings them straight there. They’ll encounter similar encounters, but with different texture.

During the final encounter, Elena reveals that Vesuvia was always supposed to defect and help the players defeat the Worm King. All they need to do is agree to stay, and they can finish the raid, and then keep playing. Keep playing forever. Oh, and she’s not going to agree to leave.

#broken silence #diecomic #dierpg #?#sorry about no chapter this week but this is what i've been doing #my writing

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mychaosacademia-blog · 6 years ago

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Different jobs that My Hero Academia characters could have (as adults)

*LONG POST WARNING! MORE UNDER THE CUT*

1. Midoriya- The Good Cop™

Deku always wanted to save people and before One for All became a part of his life everyone advised him to simply go for the police. If he didn’t become a hero, he would probably become a policeman, and he’d probably make a damn good one, taking into account his perfect balance of righteousness, selflessness, and empathy. If all cops were like him, the world would be saved.

Midoriya: *holds back tears* I-it’s okay now... Because I am here...

2. Bakugou- The Impulsive Soldier

Is there any job that Bakugou could like doing more than fighting? He could initially struggle with being at the very bottom of the military hierarchy, but being put in his place for a while could perhaps help him get over his problems with accepting losing and help. And anyway, he’d climb up fast. After all, this boy’s strong and smart as heck. Just imagine him getting to drill the new recruits...

Bakugou: *yells* I’LL KILL YOU, LAZY SCUM!! 500 PUSH UPS, starting NOW!!

New recruit, terrified to the core: Aye sir!

3. Uraraka- Bob The Builder

Uraraka’s quirk would be perfect to use on a construction site. She’s a strong girl, practical and determined, and would even manage to deal with any potential accidents at work. Plus she comes from the working class, but that’s just an addition.

Uraraka: I can work hard and earn money for my parents this way too!

4. Todoroki- The Vengeful Firefighter

Get it? FIRE-FIGHTER. Now THAT would be a way to go against Endeavor and his plans, wouldn’t it? Tbh much sassier than becoming a hero.

Todoroki: It is then... *15 minutes of traumatic flashback* when I decided to devote the rest of my life to fighting fire. After all, it reminded me of my father... the reason I got this scar...

5. Tsuyu- The Lifeguard

Taking into account what hero internship Tsuyu chose, it is quite easy to determine what she would do with life if she wouldn’t become a hero. The sea is her area, and water is her friend. But she needs some contact with the land too like frogs do and she liked saving people so...

Tsuyu: Kero... *blows the whistle* Please get out of the water, a storm is coming!

6. Iida- The Pure Lawyer

Iida is the most Lawful Good person in existence, probably. He likes rules, knows them all, and is really dedicated to reminding others of them. Cases with his involvement would be guaranteed to be solved justly, regardless of the benefit of his client.

Iida: *gesticulation intensifies* Your honor, I urge you to consider Article 137, paragraph 3! And wear warmer clothes tomorrow, this weather can make you sick!

7. Kaminari- The Portable Phone Charger Disco Bartender

Kaminari is surely someone who likes people and a good party. Even if his quirk would make him perfect for an electrician, quite certainly he’d just regard it FAR TOO DULL. This boy wants to be COOL. He’d probably try to work his way up to a manager or owner of his own club; but with his intelligence stats, this could take a while. For now, he’d make SHOCKING drinks and chat with everyone around.

Kaminari: *obviously flirting with customers and showing off his cool electricity tricks* yEAH MY FUTURE CLUB WILL BE THE COOLEST! Imagine like... MEME THEMED PARTY

Customer: *quietly* That sounds kind of cringy...

8. Mina- The Kids Entertainer

Mina just seems like someone who’d be simply ADORED by kids. She’s sweet, bubbly, so so fun, and looks like she’s dressed up already! The Alien Queen parties would be booked months in advance. And every kid would dream of getting one for their birthday...

Mina: IF YOU’RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT CLAP YOUR HANDS!

Kids: *climb on her back trying to touch the horns* ALIEN QUEEEEEN!!!

9. Kirishima & Testutetsu- The MMA stars

STRONG BOIS. MASCULINE BROS. GOTTA BE THE MANLIEST and gayest. MMA ROCKS AND HAS A HEART OF STEEL! Also Kirishima would be quickly voted the greatest cinnamon roll of MMA

Tetsutetsu: *screaming and wrestling*

Kirishima: *screaming and wrestling wholesomely*

10. Ojiro- The Veterinary Assistant

Ojiro isn’t the greatest fan of the spotlight, and probably would enjoy a calm, but helpful job as a veterinary assistant. Plus, his tail can give him instant connection points with scared, caudate pets!

Ojiro: *waggles his tail*

A normally aggressive dog: *waggles the tail back and jumps to lick his face*

Ojiro: *giggles, petting the dog* See, there’s nothing to be scared of!

11. Toru- The Shop Assistant actually secretly a CIA Covert Investigator but shhh it’s a secret

We know that Toru likes shopping and would probably be great as a boutique employee. She’s sweet, she has great social skills, and she certainly has style! But at the same time... it would be hard to believe that with her quirk she didn’t get a suggestion to become a spy alongside her job. Did she agree? Did she not? I guess we’ll never know...

Toru: You look amazing in this suit, Mr. President! I think you should really buy it! *places a tiny hidden camera inside the pocket*

12. Koda- The Wildlife Rehabilitator

There is no other job where the ability to talk to the animals would be more life-saving than a wildlife rehabilitator. Also, taking into account how shy Koda seems, he’d probably prefer to work with animals rather than humans...

Koda: Don’t worry, sweet bunny! You’re safe now!

Bunny: *noms on his plushie*

13. Aoyama- The Sparkling Model

Was there ever any doubt? Aoyama would be a STUNNING model. Just imagine...

*LIGHTS OFF*

*A REFLECTOR ILLUMINATES A SINGLE SPOT ON THE STAGE*

*EPIC MUSIC PLAYS, THE CROWD WHISPERS EXCITED*

AND THERE HE COMES......

Aoyama in his new pajamas collection!

Aoyama: I cAnNoTu StOpPu SpArKLiNg!!

14. Yaomomo- The Patient Teacher

Lecturing Mina and Kaminari among others before the exams just HAD to take lots of patience and supreme teaching skills. If she managed to make these two pass, she can definitely deal EVEN with a class of 30 10-year-olds.

Momo: *for the 13th time* Now, let’s try again! 2 times 3 is?

Some kid with IQ of Kaminari an ameba: ....4?

15. Jirou- The Sound Engineer

She’d definitely keep playing music as her hobby but she seems like a person who’d like to have a stable, technical job as her primary source of income nonetheless. Plus, her quirk would be perfect to hear out the slightest inadequacies of sound!

Jirou: So we have to add gain here, equalize there, distort over here, and probably remaster the whole thing too.

A very confused beginning artist: Uh-uh...

16. Tokoyami- The Subculture Shop Owner

Tokoyami is such a goth birb. So dramatic. So dark. If any goths or emos saw his room in the dorms they would all LOVE this aesthetic. As such, he’d make a good job at picking and selling clothes and accessories for fellow goths and other subcultures. And having Dark Shadow would just make him more famous...

Some goth girl: So you’re like... REALLY filled with a Dark Shadow of you? That’s so spooky!

Tokoyami, who already heard this question 20 times in the past 2 hours: What do you want to buy?

17. Sero- The Steeplejack

With that quirk, he pretty much wouldn’t have to worry about falling. Not to mention THE POWER OF FLEX TAPE

Sero: *swinging on the tape on top of a cathedral* This is pretty fun!

Other steeplejacks: *clinging to their ladders* Watch out!

18. Satou- The Pastry Cook

Mmmm his cakes. The world lost a treasure when Satou decided to be a hero instead of a pastry cook. Truly heartbreaking. Think of all the tasty things he would make constantly...

Class 1A, plotting behind his back: We have to make Satou fall out of the hero course

Satou, terrified: G-guys! I can bake you cakes without that!

19. Mineta- The Pimp *mild NSFW*

I am so sorry. Oh, wait, actually I’m not. Why is Mineta even trying to be a hero? I mean, should THAT be the job of his dreams?

Mineta: *manic laughter* OH MY IT’S LIKE A WET DREAM

20. Monoma- The Professional 4chaner Internet Troll Actually why did I cross it off, that’s exactly what he’d do

I have no words.

Monoma: *sips Red Bull, typing* HA! CLASS 1A! YOU SPECIAL SNOWFLAKES REEEEEEEEEEE CUCK

21. Shinsou- The Questionable Detective

Ah yes. The police for introverts. Like Midoriya, Shinsou would probably want to save people a lot, so I reckon he’ll choose this path if he wouldn’t become a hero. Just think of how useful his quirk could be...

Shinsou: *having a suspect hypnotized* Knock on the table three times if you did it.

Suspect: *knocks*

Another detective: ...Are you sure this is ethical?

22. Hatsume- The Weirdly Motherly Engineer

I mean, she sort of already is one... But she could probably design much more than just hero costumes! What if she went to robotics... Then her babies could actually talk back to her!

Hatsume, turning on a new robot: My new baby!

Robot: *turning to Hatsume* Mama!

Every human being around: *assessing Hatsume’s age and judging hard*

23. All Might- The Hollywood celebrity specializing in superhero movies!

#LETALLMIGHTPLAYCAPTAINAMERICA2018

All Might: *looking at the shipping fanarts following the movie world premiere* ...........why has my life come to this

24. Aizawa- The Cat Cafe owner

CATS ARE BETTER THAN PEOPLE. If he had the money and time, he’d FOR SURE set up his own cafe of purring babies. And he’d be very protective over them every time he’d visit...

Aizawa: *thunder in eyes* Don’t you DARE disturb Marshmallow’s sleep, you can pet her when she wants to and ONLY IF she wants to

Mic: AWWWW MARSHMALLOW THAT’S ADORABLEEE

Aizawa: *aggressive whispering* I swear if your screams wake her up I WILL assassinate you

25. Present Mic- The Full-time Radio Host

I mean, this one is kind of obvious. How does he have 3 jobs at once anyway?

Mic: *PLAYS AFRICA BY TOTO FOR THE 3RD TIME DURING HIS 4 HOUR PROGRAM* I BLESS THE RAIN DOWN IN AAAAAAFRICAAAAA yo what do you mean I’m being cringy

26. Midnight- The 18+ Domina

Another kinda obvious one? Oh well. She’d be happy and empowered doing that, so don’t judge.

Midnight: Ah, so exciting!!

27. Tomura- The Unemployed

Tomura’s personality doesn’t seem exactly suited for any kind of work... or society, for this matter. At least as long as All For One is around, he’d certainly rest on him, gaming his days away. And after that... even though his sensei already planned for him to take over his company, Tomura prefers not to think about that.

Tomura: *hissing at any opportunity of a job* I don’t like this quest *hides in the hoodie*

28. All For One- The Plotting CEO

All For One seems to love his suit and wears it quite well, so he could certainly do well at a largely formal, managing job. And he’d be the first to exploit ALL for ONE, something that large businesses unfortunately often do...

All For One: *ruining someone’s life and fortune with a smirk* How unfortunate... for you, of course.

29. Toga- The Professional Cosplayer

Toga’s quirk and erm... interests seem to be perfect for her to be a psycho fan of real-life celebrities, whose blood she steals for her cosplays. As these “cosplays” she makes are literally perfect, she manages to get quite a lot of money from the photoshoots. The celebrities are just very surprised noticing a fresh needle wound on their arm when they wake up in the morning...

Toga: *jumping up and down* I want to become them all! I will become them all! I want to cut them! Blood!

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peace-coast-island · 6 years ago

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Diary of a Junebug

Bringing out the ol’ drum kit

Guess who dropped by for the weekend? It’s Gladdy! He’s been meaning to stop by the camp for a while but was busy touring with the band. Turns out he was planning to visit a while ago but things kept happening so he had to keep postponing the trip.

Of course I set up a drum kit for him so he could jam out and give out drumming lessons! That was a lot of fun and he never looked more alive behind the drums.

Then I noticed a shift in his mood after the drumming lessons were over. Gladdy’s a happy go lucky guy so seeing him step back with an unreadable expression was concerning. While he was clearly very happy to be here, I could tell that this trip was more than a visit.

I wasn’t too far off the mark when I figured out that “serious problem involving a friend” several weeks ago ago had to do with it. He was quite vague about it so no one asked further questions and gave him the space he needed.

Once we were alone, Gladdy opened up. It was a lot to take in and one of the things I admire about him is that he’s able to take it all in stride. Well, he wouldn’t say it like that, but still even with all the bad stuff going on he still carries on and makes the best out of the situation.

So the short version is - There will be no wedding with Gladdy and Janie Janie’s no longer with us Gladdy’s leaving Dove City for good Half of Dove City is pretty much gone due to fires

Yeah, that’s a lot to process, especially when all of that happened in the span of a month and a half.

The thread connecting all these events together was Gladdy’s fiancee Janie. They’ve been together for almost eight years so it was surprising to hear that she was the one behind he fires. I’ve met her several times over the years and even what after Gladdy told me what he found out about her, I still find it hard to believe.

Janie, from what I know of her was very friendly and reserved. People say that she’s a bit cold but once you get to know her, she was full of interesting stories with a vivid imagination. I remember how lively and animated she’d get when telling stories of her past travels, the way she moves and speaks makes you feel like you’re there with her.

According to Gladdy, things changed when her aunt passed away earlier this year. Janie was very close to her aunt, who raised her after she was shuffled from one relative to the next after her father’s death. After her mother died, her father blamed Janie for it and treated her horribly. As it turned out, Janie’s father died in a fire, which started in his room when he fell asleep while smoking. Janie got out but her father - who was most likely drunk - didn’t.

After doing further investigation, it’s possible that Janie was involved in at least five other fires - most likely more - in the past seven years as she was in the area when they occurred. Because she traveled frequently and was clever enough to hide her tracks, no one was able to connect her to the crimes.

When her aunt died, it was the end for Janie. First, a fire broke out in an old cabin on the outskirts of town. Since the place was falling apart and pretty much abandoned, no one suspected much. The second fire took place in a community college, was believed to be an electrical fire, and again no one suspected arson.

Over the spring, the fires started taking over. The hotel, the library, the gym, a convenience store, a hardware store, a restaurant, a courthouse, and a furniture store. After the first three, the city began investigating as they began to suspect arson. Everyone in Dove City was unable to sleep until the arsonist was caught. Things got so bad that what was once a friendly city turned hostile overnight.

Gladdy was out touring so when he got back he missed out on a lot. He told me that it didn’t feel like home anymore and that was scary. On the night he came home, Janie was waiting for him. Several minutes later chaos broke out when the library went up in flames a few blocks away. Gladdy got lost in the shuffle while joining in to help put out the fire. He didn’t really think about it but looking back he felt that he should’ve noticed something.

It hurts to see Gladdy blame himself for what happened to Janie. Her story is just tragic as a whole and one the truth came out, everyone agreed that although she was the perpetrator, she was also a victim. She was crying for help in a destructive way.

While everyone was focused on the library, another fire broke out in the hotel several blocks away. Unlike the previous fires, the hotel had three casualties. From there, everyone grew more tense and the city became divided as people were accusing each other of being the arsonist.

Last year Janie proposed to Gladdy and the wedding was planned for this summer. But with the fires, it looked like the wedding would have to be postponed. Despite the fear spreading rapidly as the fires, Gladdy and Janie didn’t want to change their plans. They figured that with all the bad things going on right now, it wouldn’t hurt to have something to look forward to.

On the night of graduation at the community college, the city gathered together to celebrate. For a while it seemed like the fires had stopped after arresting a guy who was arrested a few years back for arson and came back to the city around the same time the fires began. Despite having little to no connection with the fires, the city was pressured to arrest someone. With graduation around the corner and things looking up for the city, everyone decided to celebrate and bring the community back together.

Then from there, things got chaotic. Janie slipped out unnoticed and set fire to the gym. While putting out the fire over there, one of the firefighters remembered that the arsonist sets two fires so the other one must be across town. Gladdy, being the selfless helper he is, volunteered to check things out with another team. Because of the chaos he didn’t even notice that Janie was gone and even if he did, she was probably buried in the shuffle helping others out.

Detective Lem was the one who found Janie. He was going to be the best man at their wedding. Janie was watching the fire in the restaurant when Lem saw her and told her to get out as the fire was spreading rapidly. Janie told him that she was chasing the arsonist, who ran into the kitchen. Lem headed towards the kitchen when Janie knocked him out and disappeared. Gladdy and Celie, another detective, saw the restaurant in flames and alerted the fire department. Celie found Lem and pulled him out of the fire.

While he and Celie were in the restaurant, Gladdy sworn he saw Janie, or so he thought. He’s still not sure. But Janie was about to escape when Gladdy and Celie came, so she hid away. He thought he heard Janie call his name but maybe he was imagining things.

By the time the firetrucks came, the fire was spreading rapidly. An ambulance came for Lem, who had a concussion and needed stitches. He told Gladdy and Celie what he saw and insisted that he go find Janie. Gladdy refused to believe it.

Then they heard a window breaking on the second floor, which was now up in flames. It was Janie, who was trapped in the burning building. The smoke and flames were so thick that all they could see was her arms struggling to break free. Her last words were a final cry for help, her words mangled by the fire that took her life. Celie pretty much had to tackle Lem and Gladdy to prevent them from rushing in. The sound of the glass smashing lasted for probably less than a minute but to Gladdy it felt like forever and since then the sound has been haunting him.

Gladdy spent the next several days in shock. He can’t remember much about what happened after, except that he couldn’t get out of bed. Friends like Lem and Celie stopped by to check on him. The guy who was initially arrested for the fires was let go and before leaving the city he gave Celie a business card for a clinic in Midiborough in case anyone, specifically Gladdy, needed help. It took some pushing from Celie, but Gladdy decided to see a therapist there. Several other people, including Celie and Lem, went there too as Janie was close to them.

Fast forward to today, several weeks later, and Gladdy just shipped the rest of his things over to Amarine, which is closer to Midiborough. Dove City is rebuilding but it won’t be the same. Along with Gladdy, Lem and Celie are leaving too. Lem’s moving to Sailing and Celie’s moving in with her girlfriend - now fiancee as of last week! - in Zappan.

To say that the past month was difficult for him was an understatement. He’s doing better now, thankfully, but he’s still got a long way to go. And honestly, it won’t ever be the same. Dove City, what was once his home went up in flames and he’s not sure if he can ever go back. When it comes to Janie, I asked him how he’s dealing with that.

He told me: “I feel bad for her. It’s not entirely her fault she became the way she was but…I don’t know if I can forgive her. At least not now.”

I feel the same way.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #acpc #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble #Daphne Primrose

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ramajmedia · 5 years ago

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Chernobyl: Key Details The Show Leaves Out | ScreenRant

Most people wouldn't expect that a miniseries about a 1980s disaster in the Soviet Union would become the highest-rated TV show on IMDb, but the HBO miniseries Chernobyl managed to make it happen. And it's one of the rare instances where the hype surrounding it is completely warranted. Chernobyl creates an atmosphere that flawlessly blends the banal bureaucracy of Soviet life with the apocalyptic horror of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor disaster.

RELATED: Chernobyl: 10 Other Historical Events From The Soviet Union That Deserve Their Own Miniseries

Writing a five-episode series covering an event that affected the world and involved thousands of people is no easy feat, but writer Craig Mazin (in case you didn't know, he's the guy who wrote The Hangover and used to be Ted Cruz's roommate, what a resume!) did a spectacular job of creating a story out of that mountain of experiences. However, like most TV shows that are a fictionalized version of real events, there are some aspects of the story that are literally fiction. And here are 10 of the most important details about the real disaster that the show leaves out.

10 The Real Acute Radiation Deaths Took Longer

It's not surprising that the show and its writers changed the impression of how long acute radiation poisoning would take to kill someone, because obviously speeding it up speeds up the story itself. But the realities of acute radiation poisoning would have been somewhat different. The show was correct in that it would appear that a patient was getting better for a while before they start deteriorating, but the show made it seem like this happened over the course of a few hours or days. It took the real firefighter Vasily Ignatenko two weeks to succumb to his poisoning (which sadly was slightly different but just as gruesome as it was portrayed).

9 Valery Legasov Wasn't Actually An Expert On RBMK Reactors

The real Valery Legasov was definitely an expert on nuclear physics and he was one of the highest-ranking Soviet scientists in the field, however, Legasov was actually pretty uninformed when it came to the actual construction and function of the RBMK nuclear reactors.

RELATED: Chernobyl: 5 Things That Are Historically Accurate (& 5 That Are Completely Fabricated)

The miniseries itself actually does hint at this occasionally when Ulana Khomyuk informs Legasov that his assumptions are incorrect, however, the story overall presents him as the most qualified and informed person to do the job. And just like with many other Soviet crises, Legasov was an expert in his own field but not necessarily the ideal person for this particular job.

8 Many Of The Firefighters Didn't Have Gear At All

The show definitely portrays the firefighters in Pripyat as being woefully unprepared for the horrors they were about to face when they went to put out the fire at the Chernobyl reactor, but the reality of the situation was actually even worse. Not that any proper firefighting gear would have protected them from the brutality of the broken reactor's radiation, but in many cases, the firefighters fighting that fire didn't even have that. Yes, some of them were properly outfitted in firefighting gear, but some of them had to fight the fire in their own clothes, some of them were on the scene wearing only tee shirts.

7 The System Of Propaganda Was Even Better Than They Made It Seem

The control over the media and information in the Soviet Union was far beyond what most of us can even imagine in our own lives. And the politicians in the upper echelons of the government who are portrayed in the Chernobyl miniseries make it very clear that this information is to be controlled at all costs. And although they couldn't avoid the literal nuclear fallout getting out of the country, they did an excellent job of obfuscating all of the information about what actually went on when Chernobyl exploded, even now many former Soviet citizens are unsure of exactly what happened.

6 The Three Divers Weren't Volunteers

Every form of fiction seeks out to find a hero for the story to inspire others and keep the audience engaged and compelled, and although Chernobyl was based on real events the writers did fuss with the reality of the situation to give accolades to the people involved in the situation.

RELATED: 10 Video Games To Play If You Liked HBO's Chernobyl

It was undoubtedly a heroic act for those three divers to go drain the tanks beneath reactor four, they weren't asked to volunteer and they weren't even given any reward for doing the job. They simply worked at the plant and knew the area, so they were assigned the task and completed it.

5 Threats Weren't Necessary To Get People To Do What They Were Told

The real-life Anatoly Dyatlov already makes for an excellent TV villain, and he does deserve to shoulder a fair bit of the blame for the absolute train wreck that Chernobyl became. But the writers of the Chernobyl miniseries leaned into that villainy even more than necessary. The threat of doing something or else being shot is actually a bit of a recurring theme throughout Chernobyl, but the reality of the situation is that it wasn't actually necessary to do so. The show itself acknowledges that people in the Soviet Union are socialized to do whatever they're told, and the same attitude applied to the entire Chernobyl disaster.

4 Communism Still Had Its Hierarchies

Chernobyl has been rightfully praised for everything that it does right, and it does do a lot of things right. People who were alive in the Soviet Union during that era have been astonished to see how accurately the production has managed to reproduce the settings and overall visual style of that time. However, there are some details that the show gets wrong, namely that every single person is treated exactly the same. Yes, they're living under communist rule, but someone like Valery Legasov would have a very different living space than most of the other characters that we see in the miniseries.

3 Ulana Khomyuk Wasn't Real

The character of Ulana was completely made up by the writers of the miniseries, and she was intended to serve as a stand-in for the thousands of Soviet scientists who actually did do all of the work trying to fix Chernobyl.

RELATED: HBO's Chernobyl: 5 Things That Are Accurate (& 5 Things That Aren't)

It's an understandable move, because including every single person who played a part would be impossible, and it's more narratively convenient to narrow things down. However, Ulana is clearly meant to serve a more heroic role in the story as well, which makes for a more satisfying tale but is unfortunately an inaccurate representation of how nearly everyone involved in the crisis behaved.

2 Chernobyl Was In Some Ways Inevitable

In his dramatic (and fictionalized) presentation at the trial at the end of Chernobyl, Valery Legasov explains that the entire design of the RBMK reactors are faulty and that this kind of result was bound to happen at some point, which is absolutely true. But the overall structure of the Soviet society and government also ensured that some level of disaster was pretty much inevitable as well. The Soviet system always prioritized productivity over humanity, and in a system like that, it is a near guarantee that there will be a serious loss of life as a result of those priorities.

1 The Truth Of Chernobyl Is Still Buried

The Soviet control over the media in their country and the spread of information was extraordinary. As Zharkov dramatically explains after the disaster, if it means cutting the phone lines and trapping people in the city, then that's what must be done to protect the country. And because the cover-up of Chernobyl was so great, even now the full story is not something that has come together. There are still mysteries that are left to be uncovered, and even the people who were face to face with the disaster only know their experiences of the story, they don't even know a fraction of what really happened.

NEXT: 10 Reasons Why Fans Of GoT Should Give HBO's Chernobyl A Chance

source https://screenrant.com/chernobyl-details-facts-missed-series/

#screenrant

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kansascityhappenings · 7 years ago

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Smiles and memories of those killed in Las Vegas

LAS VEGAS — One was a man who died shielding his wife from gunfire on their wedding anniversary. Another was a city of Las Vegas employee who died in his boyfriend’s arms. And two others were a veteran corrections officer and his girlfriend who died on the trip they had planned for weeks.

At least 58 people were killed and nearly 500 others were injured Sunday night, authorities say, when a gunman fired on an outdoor country musical festival from the 32nd floor of a Las Vegas hotel.

Here are some of the victims’ stories:

Rocio Guillen Rocha

Rocio Guillen Rocha and her fiancé were in Las Vegas to celebrate a friend’s birthday, and the couple were at the concert when she was shot.

She was taken to a hospital but didn’t survive, her family said.

A resident of Anaheim, California, she leaves behind four children, including a son born just weeks ago.

She was an assistant manager at a California Pizza Kitchen restaurant — and she once struggled through what was once feared to be permanent paralysis, said her eldest son, Marcus Guillen, 18.

“She was paralyzed having my brother” years ago, Guillen told CNN. “She had a blood clot in her spine. The doctors said she would never walk again. She proved everyone wrong. She was able walk. After that, she ran half marathons.

“She did everything she could. She always fought for us. I want (people) to remember just how much a fighter she was and how much she worked and how much she provided for us.”

She is survived by her fiancé, Chris Jaksha, and her children: Marcus; Christopher, 13; Sofia, 1; and a 1-month-old, Austin.

Brian Fraser

Brian Fraser of La Palma, California, attended the festival with about 20 people that included his wife and children. Nick Arellano, the oldest of Fraser’s four children, described him as “the most involved parent.”

He coached his children’s football and baseball teams and was in the school parents’ association. Arellano was 11 when Fraser married his mother and adopted him. The couple had three other children, who are ages 17, 10 and 4.”He took care of all (of) us,” Arellano said. “Every person he was in contact with saw his love and compassion and honesty.”

Jason Aldean, the last act of Route 91 Harvest, was Fraser’s favorite country singer. Fraser and his wife were walking toward the stage for his favorite Aldean song, “Dirt Road Anthem” when he was shot, Arellano said. A friend performed CPR on Fraser and loaded him into a wheel barrow to seek medical attention. Doctors and nurses did everything they could, but Fraser died of his injuries. “We don’t know who they are, but we want to thank them,” Arellano said.

Fraser was vice president of sales at Greenpath Funding. The company released a statement after his death: “Brian Fraser impacted everyone who crossed his path with his infectious positive energy, his tenacious will to succeed, and his willingness to help others.

“Our hearts are broken, and the Greenpath family will never forget you, Brian.”

Denise Cohen

Denise Cohen of Carpinteria, California, was a property manager in Santa Barbara with two children. She attended the concert with her companion, Derrick “Bo” Taylor.

The couple had been planning the trip for weeks, her friend Leana Orsua told CNN affiliate KEYT. Cohen was planning to volunteer at the California Avocado Festival the following weekend.

“She was a very active, social person. She touched so many lives. She was a super positive, genuine, kindhearted individual,” Orsua said.

She said Cohen and Taylor met at a social gathering and quickly became friends, then roommates. Orsua shared a text message with KETY from Cohen’s son, Jeff Rees, remembering his mother.

“Our mother was such a strong, beautiful and happy woman who made a difference to the lives of everyone she knew,” he wrote. “She was such a happy person and enjoyed doing the things in life that she loved. We can see by the last photo of her that she was indeed happy and with a person that loves her, Bo.”

Derrick ‘Bo’ Taylor

Derrick “Bo” Taylor, 56, was a veteran with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

Taylor joined the department about 30 years ago, rising to the rank of lieutenant. He worked at the Ventura Conservation Camp, which houses up to 110 adult male inmates. The camp helps train inmates to become regional firefighters.

He attended the concert with his girlfriend, Denise Cohen.

Taylor’s loss will be felt deeply, Warden Joel Martinez wrote in a memo to staff, according to a department newsletter.

“There are no words to express the feeling of loss and sadness regarding Bo’s passing. Our thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends,” Martinez wrote.

In the comments section of the notice on his death, people praised Taylor as a good co-worker and friend. As one person said, “Bo was a great man, as a supervisor he set the bar so high that no one will ever be able to touch it.”

Kurt von Tillow

Kurt von Tillow of Cameron Park, California, and his wife Mary Jo were best friends who did everything together. They golfed together and recently brought their two grandchildren to Disneyland. Together, they attended the country musical festival with their daughter and two more relatives.

Von Tillow’s wife and daughter escaped unharmed. But the 55-year-old truck driver died of his injuries, a relative told CNN. Von Tillow’s sister and niece were hospitalized Monday and are expected to survive, Janet Carson-Tenney said.

“He lived a perfect life. He was loved by everybody, he didn’t have an enemy, he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was the life of the party,” Carson-Tenney told CNN. She’ll remember his laugh and how much he loved his family.

Jack Beaton

Jack Beaton of Bakersfield, California, and his wife Laurie were celebrating their 23rd wedding anniversary with friends at the concert.

He was shot while shielding his wife from the gunfire, CNN affiliate KBAK reported.

“He never passed up an opportunity to give somebody a hand,” Beaton’s father-in-law Jerry Cook told KBAK. “He always had a smile on his face. He had countless friends. Everybody that came in contact with him loved the guy.”

Three hours before the shooting, he posted a blurry photo on Facebook of the gang lounging on the lawn, koozie-covered beers in hand.

The day after the shooting, Beaton’s son shared a picture on Twitter of his father and asked for prayers.

“He jumped in front of my mom and got shot,” he wrote. “I love you dad.”

Later, he posted on Facebook: “Lost my best friend. I love you so much more (than) you could ever imagine.”

John Phippen

John Phippen, a 56-year-old father of six, was fatally shot while shielding a woman from the gunfire, Phippen’s neighbor said.

Phippen was hit after his son stopped to help someone else, said Leah Nagyivanyi, Phippen’s neighbor and close friend for 17 years. His son was wounded in the arm, she said.

Phippen lost his wife three years ago, said Nagyivanyi. Her family went on camping trips with Phippen and his clan. He was the kind of person who got along with both children and adults, she said.

“Our kids look up to us, and look to us for guidance, but these kids considered John their best friend,” Nagyivani said. “That tells a lot about the kind of person you are. He was everybody’s best friend.”

One time, when a boat flipped over during a camping trip, Phippen and his son sprang into action just like they did at the concert, she said.

“He was a man of integrity who always had your back,” she said. “There is nothing he couldn’t do for you, wouldn’t do for you. You didn’t even have to ask.”

Thomas Day Jr.

Thomas Day Jr., 54, of Riverside, California, was with his four children at the festival, said Bruce Abbey, a vice president of a California construction company where Day worked.

His daughter Whitney Day wrote the following about her father:

“My sisters Candice and Kelsey and brother Nolan and I just want to say that he was our rock, he was our everything. Anyone he came across he put a smile on their face. All our friends would call him Daddy Day because he treated everyone like one of his own and it was an honor to us all to be able to share our dad with the world.”

Day was an estimator at Portrait Construction in Corona, California, and had been at the company for more than 20 years, Abbey said.

Austin Davis

Austin Davis, a pipefitter from Riverside, California, was at the concert with a friend and her family. The friend’s father, Tom Day Jr., was also killed.

His girlfriend of nine years, Aubree Hennigan, said he loved playing softball. Katelyn Hood, who said Davis was her best friend and her baby’s godfather, described him as a man’s man with a contagious smile.

“He worked so very hard and took the most pride in that and anything he did. Austin didn’t half-a** anything in life. If he knew you, he loved you. That’s just how he cared for people,” Hood said.

Davis’ mother, Lori Quick, said he was her everything. In his last text to her, he said, “I kinda want to come home, I love home,” Quick said in a Facebook post.

“He is coming home not in a way that any parent would want him to. We wanted to bring him home in our arms,” she said.

Chris Hazencomb

Chris Hazencomb, 44, was excited to see one of his favorite artists, Jason Aldean, at Route 91 Harvest.

Hazencomb went to the festival with his friend Nikki Torres. Torres said she and her husband knew Hazencomb for years and considered him part of their family.

“He was the nicest person I have known. He loved to help people and thought of others before himself,” she told CNN.

Like many attendees, they thought the first round of gunshots were firecrackers. “After the second or third rounds, we realized that it was bad,” Torres said. “That is when I looked over and he was on the ground.”

After that, Torres said her memories blur together. She saw a man try to help Hazencomb while others led her away from the scene.

Hazencomb’s mother told the Ventura County Star that he was a sports a junkie who worked at the Walmart Neighborhood Market in Camarillo, California.

Laura Shipp

Laura Shipp, 50, spent two days at the festival with her son, Corey. They were “big concertgoers, especially when it came to country,” a family friend said in an online fundraiser.

At some point the two were separated and Corey Shipp spent the day after the shooting looking for his mother. By Wednesday, she had been identified, her brother confirmed to CNN.

Shipp, an avid Dodgers fan, moved to Las Vegas about five years ago to be closer to her son, the Ventura County Star reported.

“She was his world and he was hers,” her brother told the newspaper.

Victor Link

Victor Link of Aliso Viejo, California, described himself on his company’s website as a “tequila quality control tester.” He also enjoyed traveling, snowboarding, golfing, cooking and wine tasting with family and friends.

Andrew Soss said that Link worked for his mortgage originator business.

“He was the most genuine, stand-up guy you’ll ever meet. He brought a smile to everyone’s face,” Soss said.

Link was attending the concert with his fiancée and their friends.

“They came back from a two-week trip from Europe a month ago, and they were traveling and living life,” his nephew Vincent Link told The Bakersfield Californian.

Christiana Duarte

Christiana Duarte had recently started working for the Los Angeles Kings after graduating from the University of Arizona in May with a degree in mass communications. The NHL team put out a call for information about her Sunday night.

“Our organization is overwhelmed with grief over the loss of our colleague Chrissy,” Kings President Luc Robitaille said in a statement. “In just a brief period of time, Chrissy had an immeasurable impact on all of us. We want to make every effort to ensure that everyone knows how special she was and the impact she already had made on so many people.

She had worked with the Los Angeles Rams as well as the Arizona Diamondbacks. She enjoyed playing intramural soccer, softball and volleyball.

Her alma mater confirmed her death. The school said it is reaching out to those who knew her, including her Sigma Kappa sorority sisters.

“All of us in the University of Arizona community are saddened that Christiana Duarte, one of our graduates from this past May, is among the victims from Las Vegas on Sunday night,” President Robert C. Robbins said in a statement. “This attack is a terrible tragedy for hundreds of families, and it is a shocking and horrific event for all of us. I know I speak for the UA community in expressing our deepest condolences to Christiana’s family and in asking for their privacy to be respected.”

Carly Kreibaum

Carly Kreibaum’s passion for art lives on in a Sutherland, Iowa, flower shop, where she painted flowers on the storefront. Florist Bonnie Wallinga, owner of The Menagerie, told CNN affiliate KTIV that the married mother of two didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

Kreibaum’s sister-in-law confirmed that she was among the victims of the mass shooting.

Brennan Lee Stewart

Las Vegas native Brennan Lee Stewart shielded his girlfriend and helped others to safety before he was shot dead, his family said in a statement.

“Brennan was the kind of guy who always put others before himself, including up to the moment he lost his life,” the family said.

Stewart loved country music, played the guitar and wrote music, his family said.

Last year he posted to Facebook his cover of the Cole Swindell song “You Should Be Here.” As of Wednesday, the post received more than 134,000 views and more than 1,170 shares.

“His love for country music was shown through the songs that he wrote, and the music he played on his guitar. Brennan rarely missed an opportunity to attend a country concert,” his family said.

Dana Gardner

Dana Gardner of Grand Terrace, California, was the deputy recorder of the San Bernardino County assessor-recorder-clerk’s office.

“We are devastated and still in shock trying to comprehend what happened last (Sunday) night,” her daughter Kayla Gardner posted to Facebook on Monday. “My family and I appreciate the outpouring of love and support and ask for prayers at this time.”

Dana Gardner was a county employee for more than two decades and was known for her “can-do” attitude and vibrant energy, said Bob Dutton, San Bernardino County’s assessor-recorder-clerk.

“Dana will be dearly missed by family, friends, and co-workers. San Bernardino County mourns her loss. We offer our deepest condolences to Dana’s loved ones and to all those impacted by this horrific event,” Dutton said.

Cameron Robinson

Cameron Robinson lived in southwestern Utah but commuted to Las Vegas, where he worked as a legal records specialist, said his sister, Meghan Ervin.

He was at the concert with his boyfriend, Ervin told CNN affiliate KUTV.

Dorene Anderson

Dorene Anderson, 49, of Alaska, was at the concert with her daughters, CNN affiliate KTUU in Anchorage reported.

The Alaska Housing Finance Corp., which employs her husband, John, confirmed her death.

Dorene Anderson’s family released this statement through the employer:

“Due to this horrific and terrible situation, our family is dealing with a great loss. She (Dorene) was the most amazing wife, mother and person this world ever had. We are so grateful and lucky for the time that we did have with her. We are greatly appreciative and want to thank everyone for the thoughts and prayers you have been sending us. We are dealing with the situation as a family, and would appreciate our privacy as we grieve for our loss.”

Lisa Patterson

Lisa Patterson, from Los Angeles’ San Pedro community, was a mother of three. She was attending the concert with four friends.

Patterson was active in church, helped coach in a girls’ softball league and was devoted to her family, said her husband, Robert Patterson.

After hearing about the shooting, he drove to Las Vegas with his son and eldest daughter on Monday morning but couldn’t immediately find out what happened to his wife.

A coroner called him Monday evening to tell him she’d passed away. He returned to Los Angeles, where he broke the news of her death to their youngest daughter, who’s 8.

“I can’t believe she’s gone. … She was such a warm, caring person. There was nobody that cared more about people and life than my wife, Lisa,” Robert Patterson told CNN affiliate KCBS.

“She was such an amazing person. She cared for so many people,” her eldest daughter, Amber Patterson, told CNN. “She was so enthusiastic. She was literally the best mom, and she was my best friend.”

Amber said she appreciated hearing people’s fond memories of her mother.

“When I got my belly button pierced and her going with me … that kind of stuff really is what makes me think of her and makes me happy to remember her,” she said.

Steve Berger

Steve Berger of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, was killed in Sunday’s attack, his father told CNN affiliate WTMJ.

He was celebrating his 44th birthday with friends in Las Vegas, the TV station reported.

Berger moved to Minnesota about 10 years ago and was a financial adviser for EFS Advisors.

“Steve was passionate about his work as a financial adviser, and was beloved by his clients,” the company said in a statement. “He cared so much for others and was always willing to take time to listen to clients, friends, and co-workers to offer a helping hand.”

The father of three children was able to run a successful financial planning business, get his kids to school in the morning and off to soccer practice in the evening, his father, Richard Berger, told CNN affiliate WCCO.

“He was the greatest father for his three kids that you’d ever want,” the elder Berger told the TV station.

Bill Wolfe Jr.

Bill Wolfe Jr. was a youth wrestling coach in Shippensburg, Pennsylvania.

“It is with the most of broken hearts, the families of Bill Wolfe Jr. and his wife, Robyn, share that Bill has been confirmed to be among the deceased as a result of the mass attack in Las Vegas,” the Shippensburg Police Department said on Facebook.

Carl Bert, owner of a surveying and engineering firm, told CNN affiliate WPVI that Wolfe had once worked for him as an engineer. Bert described him as personable, fun, easy to work with and a devoted Christian, WPVI reported.

Jordyn Rivera

Jordyn Rivera was in her fourth year at California State University, San Bernardino. The university released a statement confirming her death.

“It is with the utmost sadness I must report that a member of our campus community is among the victims,” university President Tomás Morales said.

Rivera was warm, optimistic and kind, he said.

Katie Ortega, who has known Rivera for years, said they played softball together as kids.

Rivera “was and always will be a role model to many,” Ortega said. “She would always make it a point to make every single individual feel special, always laughing at my stupid jokes.”

She was passionate about softball.

“That softball diamond was her heaven,” Ortega said.

Heather Warino Alvarado

Heather Alvarado, 35, was a mother of three and married to Albert Alvarado, a firefighter in Cedar City, Utah. The couple loved traveling with their three children.

“She always saw the good in others. She spent her whole life serving others in her family and community,” the Cedar City Fire Department said in a Facebook post.

“She was happiest when she was together with her family, especially her children and she would do anything for them.”

“They appreciate your many words of kindness and concern,” the post said.

Candice Bowers

Candice Bowers was a single mother of three. Her family described her as a superhero who loved country music.

“It was a gift that she was able to spend her final moments doing what she loved with those she loved even more,” her family said.

“Her strength, fierce loyalty and memory will live on through their lives and those of her family and friends who loved her so dearly.”

Her children included a recently adopted 2-year-old, her family said in a statement.

Adrian Murfitt

Adrian Murfitt, 35, was a commercial fisherman from Alaska.

Murfitt had surprised his friend with a weekend trip to Las Vegas when the shooting happened. His friend Brian MacKinnon held him in his lap as he passed away from gunshot wounds.

His mother, Avonna Murfitt, told CNN that her son was jolly and caring.

ʺEvery one of his friends was his best friend,ʺ she said. ʺHe will be missed by all who knew him, and most of all by me.ʺ

The outpouring of love has been amazing, Avonna Murfitt said.

“We are humbled by the way everyone who knew him has offered assistance to help in bringing him home and celebrating his life,” she said.

Kelsey Meadows

Kelsey Meadows, 28, was a substitute teacher in California’s Taft Union High School District.

Meadows graduated from Taft Union High School in 2007 and later earned a bachelor’s degree from Fresno State University. She returned to the Taft community, where she had worked as a regular substitute teacher with the district since 2012, the district said in a statement.

Taft Union High School Principal Mary Alice Finn said Meadows was “smart, compassionate and kind.”

“She had a sweet spirit and a love for children,” Finn said. “Words cannot adequately capture the sorrow felt by her students, colleagues and friends in learning of her passing.”

Melissa Ramirez

Melissa Ramirez graduated from California State University Bakersfield in 2014 with a bachelor’s degree in business administration.

Flags at the school were lowered on Monday in honor of Ramirez and the other victims and will remain so through sunset on Friday, the school said in a statement.

“We are terribly saddened to learn that we lost a member of our CSUB family in this senseless act of violence. Our entire CSUB campus community is heartbroken, and we send our deepest sympathies to Melissa Ramirez’s family and friends,” the school said.

Rachael Parker

Rachael Parker was a 33-year-old records technician for the police department in Manhattan Beach, California. She also had eyes on higher education.

Parker earned her bachelor’s degree in social work from Colorado State University in June 2016, Manhattan Beach Police Department said. She was in the process of applying to graduate school, police said.

She worked for nearly a decade at the front desk of the police station. Even in those stressful confines, she was known for her “cheerful and compassionate demeanor,” police said.

“Rachael’s smile could light up a room, even on the most difficult of days.”

She had a particular passion for working with older adults. She completed her undergraduate practicum by working with Manhattan Beach’s Older Adults Program.

She loved her two adopted dogs, Maddie and Izzy. She enjoyed baking, country music and Los Angeles Kings hockey, police said.

“Rachael, we love you and we miss you. Our hearts are breaking,” police wrote. “Please keep Rachael’s family and friends in your thoughts during this difficult time.”

She was one of four off-duty Manhattan Beach police employees who attended the Vegas concert. She died at the hospital. Another police employee, a sworn officer, was shot and suffered minor injuries, the department said.

Jordan McIldoon

Jordan McIldoon, a 25-year-old from Maple Ridge, British Columbia, died holding the hand of a stranger at the concert.

Heather Gooze told CNN she somehow ended up next to McIldoon. Even though she didn’t know him, she held his hand during his final minutes. She felt a squeeze from his fingers, then felt his hand go loose.

Gooze said she knew there was nothing more to do. Yet, she stayed with McIldoon for hours. When his phone rang, she answered it and learned his name and told the caller everything was not OK.

She relayed the news of his death to his long-term girlfriend and his mother, all the while staying by his side, she said.

“I didn’t want Jordan to not have somebody with him,” she told CNN through tears. “I didn’t want him to just be a no-named body. I knew who he was, and now I had an obligation to make sure that everyone knew who he was.”

McIldoon’s mother told Gooze he was a good, nice and fun person.

“He loved his girlfriend and had great family and great friends,” Gooze told CNN.

Christopher Roybal

Christopher Roybal, 28, was a general manager at a Crunch gym in North Colorado Springs, Colorado. He was known there for his “big teddy bear smile and infectious laughter,” said David Harman, managing partner at Crunch.

“More than a team member, we lost someone who was a son, mentor, friend and hero, as a Navy veteran who served in Afghanistan,” Harman said.

Ryan Chiaverini, Roybal’s former brother-in-law, told CNN that Roybal was attending the concert with his mother to celebrate his 29th birthday. He had a really good sense of humor and had a “fun, sweet, innocent way about him,” Chiaverini said.

In a Facebook post from July, Roybal poignantly reflected on what it’s like being shot at from his time overseas.

“My response has always been the same, not one filled with a sense of pride or ego, but an answer filled with truth and genuine fear/anger,” he wrote.

He said his first fight was something he’d never forget. He felt sensory overload and extreme adrenaline, making him “excited, angry and manic.” But as the fights continued, the excitement faded, leaving just the anger, he wrote.

“What’s it like to be shot at? It’s a nightmare no amount of drugs, no amount of therapy and no amount of drunk talks with your war veteran buddies will ever be able to escape,” he wrote. “Cheers boys.”

Hannah Ahlers

Brian Ahlers told CNN his wife of 17 years was “shot in the head while dancing” with him at the music festival.

Hannah Ahlers, 34, was a stay-at-home mom of three who had lived in Beaumont, California, for the last five years, but was originally from Redlands.

“She was a full-time house wife and mommy and she was amazing at it,” he said. “Very active in moms groups and our daughter’s volleyball team. She wasn’t too good for anybody. Beautiful inside and out.”

Ryan Chiaverini, who was friends with Ahlers, told CNN that “she couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“She was one of the kindest people I’ve met,” he said.

Stacee Etcheber

The San Francisco Police Officers Association confirmed Tuesday that Stacee Etcheber was killed in the attack.

Etcheber attended the concert with her husband, Vinnie Etcheber, a San Francisco police officer who was off-duty. When the shooting began, Vinnie Etcheber told his wife to run as he began to render aid to those wounded, the police union said in a statement.

“With heavy hearts, we’ve learned that Stacee Etcheber has passed away. Stacee was a wonderful, caring wife, mother, and daughter. She will be terribly missed,” union President Martin Halloran said in a statement.

“Our deepest condolences go out to the entire Etcheber family and our thoughts and prayers are with all those who lost a loved one during this tragic attack.”

Denise Salmon Burditus

Denise Salmon Burditus, 50, was a retired banking professional who had just returned to college. She was the former president of the Association of the US Army subchapter in Lacey, Washington, according to NorthwestMilitary.com.

She and her husband, Tony, were in Las Vegas enjoying a weekend away from their West Virginia home.

The couple, who were married for 32 years, posted pictures on social media of themselves lounging by the pool and having dinner with friends. About 30 minutes before the shooting, Denise Burditus posted a picture of the two standing in front of the Route 91 Harvest stage.

The couple were dancing together when the gunfire started and continued through the first burst of gunfire, not sure what it was. During the second burst, Tony Burditus said he was leading his wife through the crowd when a bullet hit her.

A stranger helped him move her, and someone rode with them to a hospital in the back of a truck. Tony Burditus said his wife died in his arms.

“It saddens me to say that I lost my wife of 32 years, a mother of two, soon to be grandmother of 5 this evening in the Las Vegas Shooting,” he wrote on Facebook. “Denise passed in my arms. I LOVE YOU BABE.”

Charleston Hartfield

Charleston Hartfield was many things: a Las Vegas police officer, an accomplished Nevada Army National Guard sergeant first class and a youth football coach.

But beyond those titles, he “epitomizes everything good about America,” said Brig. Gen. Zachary Doser, commander of the Nevada National Guard.

Hartfield was off-duty and attending the Route 91 Harvest concert when he was shot and killed, the Guard said in a statement.

Though just 34, Hartfield wrote a memoir titled “Memoirs of a Public Servant,” which documented the “thoughts, feelings, and interactions of one Police Officer in the busiest and brightest city in the world, Las Vegas.”

“Charleston Hartfield lived to serve the public and protect his family,” Brig. Gen. William Burks, the adjutant general of the Nevada National Guard, said. “He is the epitome of a citizen-soldier.”

Hartfield — or “Coach Chucky,” as some called him — was also a coach for the Henderson Cowboys youth football program, the group said on Facebook.

“Coach Hartfield touched many lives both on and off the field. He was a great man who we all lost way (too) early,” the program said.

Stan King, the father of one of the players on the team, said he was “an absolute all-American kind of guy.”

“He is one of the nicest guys I know and helped countless youth become winners through NYS football here in Henderson, Nevada,” King said. “This kind of guy comes around once in a blue moon. He was a very special guy to the community.”

Angela Gomez

Angela “Angie” Gomez was a “fun-loving, sweet young lady with a great sense of humor” who loved the stage, the Riverside Unified School District said in a statement.

Gomez attended Riverside Polytechnic High School in California and was a member of the class of 2015. She acted on stage with the Riverside Children’s Theater, was involved in the middle and high school choir, and was a cheerleader for the high school, the school district said.

She challenged herself academically with honors and Advanced Placement courses, the school district said. And she “was always seen with a smile on her face whenever she was on campus.”

“Angie was a loyal friend who loved her family and will be forever missed by all those who knew her,” the district said.

Her English teacher and cheer coach Lupe Avila said the school was “deeply saddened by the loss of a wonderful young woman who had her whole life ahead of her.”

Sonny Melton

Sonny Melton, 29, a registered nurse from Tennessee, was shot and killed in the attack Sunday night, according to the Henry County Medical Center in Paris, Tennessee, where he worked.

His wife, Heather Melton, an orthopedic surgeon at Innovative Orthopedics, survived the mass shooting, the statement reads.

In an interview with CNN affiliate WSMV, Heather Melton said her husband saved her life amid the gunfire.

“He saved my life. He grabbed me and started running when I felt him get shot in the back,” she said. “I want everyone to know what a kind-hearted, loving man he was, but at this point, I can barely breathe.”

Sonny Melton graduated from Union University in 2015 with a Bachelor of Science in Nursing Accelerated degree and was president of his BSNA class, according to the university.

“You know how when you met someone and you just know that they’re good and kind? That was Sonny,” said Christy Davis, assistant professor of nursing at Union. “He just had a sweet, kind spirit about him.”

Tennessee Gov. Bill Haslam tweeted that he was praying for those affected by the shooting, including Melton’s family.

“In particular, Crissy and I extend our condolences and prayers to the family of Sonny Melton from West Tennessee who was among those killed in this tragedy,” Haslam said. “We know other Tennesseans were in attendance or performing at the event, and my thoughts go out to them as we grieve and process the enormity of this attack. Tennessee stands with Las Vegas during this difficult time.”

Sandra Casey

Sandra Casey, a special education teacher at California’s Manhattan Beach Middle School, was fatally wounded in the shooting, according to Mike Matthews, the Manhattan Beach Unified School District Superintendent.

Casey had taught there for the past nine years and will be remembered for her sense of humor, her passion for her work, her devotion to her students, and her commitment to continuing her own learning and to taking on whatever new projects came her way, Matthews said.

“Our students, employees, and parents are devastated by Sandy Casey’s death. We lost a spectacular teacher who devoted her life to helping some of our most needy students,” Matthews said.

Several other members of the Manhattan Beach school district attended the music festival as well but were unharmed, the school district said.

Jenny Parks

Jenny Parks, a kindergarten teacher for the Westside Union School District in California, was among those who died in the Vegas shooting, according to Steven McCarthy, her husband’s uncle.

“She was truly one of the most loving people you could ever hope to meet,” McCarthy said. “She always went out of her way to help anybody.”

He said that he never saw her upset, and never saw her sad.

Her husband, Bobby Parks, is currently in surgery after a bullet injured his arm and finger, McCarthy said. He said that Bobby Parks is responsive and aware that his wife passed away.

Jenny Parks has two brothers who lived in Las Vegas, and the couple was visiting them.

Quinton Robbins

Quinton Robbins, from Henderson, Nevada, “was the most kind and loving soul,” his aunt, Kilee Wells Sanders, said on Facebook.

Robbins’ uncle, Mike Wells, confirmed that Robbins died and said his family was in disbelief. Quinton Robbins coached his younger brother’s flag football team, and the two siblings had just attended a Dodgers game together.

“Everyone who met him, loved him,” Sanders wrote. “His contagious laugh and smile. He was truly an amazing person. He will be missed by so many, he is loved by so many. So many awesome talents. I can’t say enough good about this sweet soul.”

Neysa Tonks

Neysa Tonks, a Las Vegas resident and single mother of three, attended a company event before going to the concert with her co-workers from Technologent.

A bullet hit Tonks in the head, killing her. Someone called her family around midnight Sunday.

“I was in my bed and I heard my brother yelling and my dad was crying, which didn’t seem normal,” her 14-year-old son, Greysen, told CNN.

Greysen turned to his dad for answers. “And he said, ‘Your mom was shot in the head. She is dead.’ I froze,” the boy recalled this week.

She also leaves behind her sons Kaden Manczek, 24, and Braxton, 17.

Manczek said although he is numb, “you are so happy for the life that she had.”

“And what an amazing life she lived,” he said.

Tonks’ mother, Debbie Davis, said the family would like to live by something her daughter used to say.

“If you ever said something like, ‘Oh, I just hate that,’ she’d say, ‘Don’t be a hater.’ She said that all the time,” Davis said. “Even if you said you hated broccoli, she’d go, ‘Don’t be a hater.’

“She just (was) a wonderful person with a huge light, that we will not let be dimmed.”

Technologent has established a GoFundMe page on behalf of Tonks’ family. The effort had raised more than $155,000 by Wednesday.

Susan Smith

Susan Smith, a 53-year-old mother who was the office manager for Vista Elementary School in California, was killed in the shooting, according to Jake Finch, the Simi Valley Unified School District’s media relations coordinator.

Smith, who had been with the school district for 16 years, was a “big country music fan” and had gone to Las Vegas with a couple of friends for the music festival, Finch said.

She was “always so welcoming,” Finch said, and served as the “right hand to the principal.”

Smith was married with two young-adult children, Finch said. Her own kids were once a part of the school district and she was very active as a parent, Finch said.

“Everybody knew her,” he added. “She touched a lot of lives.”

The PTA at Vista Fundamental Elementary School posted condolences for Smith on Facebook, saying “she was a wonderful woman, an advocate for our children, and a friend.”

Bailey Schweitzer

Bailey Schweitzer was with her mother watching some of their favorite bands at the Route 91 concert in Las Vegas when the 20-year-old was shot and killed, according to CNN affiliate KBAK.

Schweitzer graduated from Centennial High School, where she was a cheerleader and played volleyball. She was also a member of the Valley Bible Fellowship Church and helped run her family’s business, Bakersfield Speedway.

Matt Woessner, a family friend, watched Bailey grow up and said she “had a heart for people.” He told KBAK that “the whole community has lost a great person in Bailey Schweitzer and she’s going to be truly missed everywhere.”

Jennifer T. Irvine

San Diego-based attorney Jennifer T. Irvine, who was on vacation in Las Vegas to attend the concert, was one of the victims of the shooting, her publicist Jay Jones said.

Irvine practiced criminal and family law and owned her own boutique firm. Her website describes her as a “tenacious litigator” who is passionate about assisting clients during difficult times.

The website also notes other unique interests out of the courtroom. She earned a black-belt in taekwondo, enjoyed practicing hot yoga, was an avid snowboarder, and aspired to learn indoor rock climbing and to experience sky-diving, the site says.

Jones, her publicist, released the following statement:

“Remembering a dear friend & colleague whose life was cut short by an unspeakable tragedy. Our sincerest thoughts to those affected during this difficult time. May our unity & strength shine over the darkness.”

Lisa Romero-Muniz

Lisa Romero-Muniz, a secretary for Gallup-McKinley County Schools in western New Mexico, was killed in the shooting, school district superintendent Mike Hyatt said.

Her son, Anthony Romero, told CNN she was generous and kind.

“She wore her heart on her sleeve … she would give you the last dime she had with no questions asked and treated everybody like family.”

Anthony Romero said his mother’s smile would “brighten the darkest of nights.”

She had worked for the school district since 2003 at three different schools and specifically worked as a discipline secretary, acting as an advocate for students during times of discipline.

“As many students have mentioned in some Facebook posts and to many of us, she was there for them and she respected them and tried to work with them as much as she could,” Hyatt said.

He said Romero-Muniz was outgoing, kind, and considerate of all those she worked with.

“We cannot express enough the loss that our organization feels at this time, and the heartache we feel for Lisa’s husband, children, grandchildren and family,” Hyatt said.

Rhonda LeRocque

Rhonda LeRocque of Tewksbury, Massachusetts, was one of the victims in the shooting, her family said.

Her mother, Priscilla Champagne, told CNN that LeRocque was a “beautiful woman inside and out.”

“A truly great mother, daughter, wife, aunt, sister, worker, and a good, kindhearted friend. She had a great faith in Jehovah God, and had a wonderful family life. She loved Hawaii, Disney, and country music.” she said.

“She was the best of the best. She was the hostess with the mostess … the glue who kept our family gatherings together. She will be greatly missed by us all.”

Her sister, Korina Champagne, said in a Facebook post on Monday that her heart was broken.

“My Beautiful Sister Rhonda LeRocque lost her life in the Las Vegas mass shooting,” Korina Champagne posted. “My heart is broken, I’m numb, I feel paralyzed. This doesn’t seem real. All I can do is turn to God’s Word for comfort, just as she would want me to. May she rest now until her name is called and she is awakened in paradise.”

She added a Bible passage to the end of her Facebook post, “Do not be amazed at this, for the hour is coming in which all those in the memorial tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who did good things to a resurrection of life, and those who practiced vile things to a resurrection of judgment.”

Erick Silva

Erick Silva, 21, was among the victims of Sunday’s shootings, his stepsister Daisy Hernandez said. His family is holding a vigil for him tonight in Las Vegas, where he lived. She said that he had recently started working in security because he loved helping people.

“All I can tell you is that he was a great son, brother, uncle who was loved by so many people,” Hernandez said. “He had just turned 21 this August and I’m pretty sure he died trying to protect people at that concert.”

Jessica Klymchuk

Jessica Klymchuk, a resident of Valleyview, Alberta, was also among the victims of Sunday’s shooting. A single mother of four, she was an educational assistant, librarian and bus driver for St. Stephen’s School in Valleyview, Holy Family Catholic Regional Division Superintendent Betty Turpin said in a statement.

“The scope of this tragedy is worldwide and we are feeling its impact here at home,” the statement said.

Calla Medig

Calla Medig, a resident of Jasper, Alberta, was one of the people who died in Sunday’s mass shooting, her employer confirmed.

Medig was “super mature, light heartened, grounded, down to earth,” said Scott Collingwood, general manager at Moxie’s restaurant in Edmonton, where Calla worked as a waitress since September 2015.

This was her third year attending the festival, Collingwood said. “She left a big hole in our hearts here,” he said.

Tara Roe

Tara Roe was an educational assistant with Foothills School Division in Alberta, Superintendent of Schools John Bailey said in a statement identifying her among the dead.

She also was a model for Sophia Models International, the agency said in a Facebook post.

“She was always a friendly face and had a very caring spirit. We are saddened, shocked and pray for everyone affected by this tragedy.”

Michelle Vo

Michelle Vo, a New York Life Insurance employee in its Greater Pasadena office, was among the victims of the shooting, a New York Life spokesperson said.

“Like all Americans, we are shocked and saddened at the terrible tragedy that has unfolded in Las Vegas. Our grief is deepened by knowing that a member of the New York Life family, Michelle Vo, an agent in our Greater Pasadena office, was among those killed. During this terrible time, our thoughts and prayers go out to her family and loved ones.”

Carrie Barnette

Disney employee Carrie Barnette was one of the victims of Sunday’s shooting, the company’s Chairman and CEO Robert Iger said Monday.

“A senseless, horrific, act, and a terrible loss for so many. We mourn a wonderful member of the Disney family: Carrie Barnette. Tragic,” Iger tweeted.

In a statement, the company said Barnette had worked for Disney for 10 years “and was beloved by her friends and colleagues.”

“Another valued Disney cast member, Jessica Milam, was also seriously injured and we are praying for her recovery,” the statement said.

This article has been updated to reflect a change in the victim death toll.

Correction: This story has been revised to give the correct name of the school district where Jenny Parks was a teacher. She taught at Westside Union School District in California. Also, an earlier version of this story mistakenly identified the author of a Facebook post as the daughter of Susan Smith.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports http://fox4kc.com/2017/10/05/smiles-and-memories-of-those-killed-in-las-vegas/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2017/10/05/smiles-and-memories-of-those-killed-in-las-vegas/

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