#like ok i relapse and i need a break from someone and they loose their fucking shit on me

[muttsona]

i hope i die, you broke my heart

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten Part VIII

Kylos got 99 problems but the bitch ain’t one 

taglist: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard @millenialcatlady

Please mind the tags.

PLEASE skip this update if any of the content is triggering for you. I will make sure to provide a recap at the beginning of the epilogue.

Kylo Ren AU x Reader

WARNINGS: drug use, drug paraphernalia, violence (breaking shit), angst, so many feels, smut, NSFW, mentions of pregnancy   

It had been 3 days since you had heard from Kylo. 

Once upon a time you wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.

But these days? 

You were starting to feel concerned.

You were sitting at your desk, looking at your phone blankly. 

No messages. 

You had sent him two text messages, one last night and one this morning. No reply. 

You were beginning to spiral- if you were honest with yourself. Had he changed his mind? Was this his way of ending things? Was there someone else? 

Your office phone rang, you considered ignoring it, not in the headspace to deal with…..anything.

You talked yourself around and answered.

“Hello?”

“Dr y/l/n?” 

“Speaking.”

“Hello dear, I hope you remember me, this is Jan, Dr Ren’s booking clerk.”

“Of course I do, Jan, is everything ok?” 

“Well, I'm not so sure I’m afraid, and I’m so sorry to ring you like this and at your place of work but-... well, we have been unable to get hold of Dr Ren and he has no emergency contacts listed here, you were the only person I could think of.” 

You began to ask a question but Jan talked over you, clearly flustered.

“I just wouldn’t normally do this but you see, Dr Ren is usually so punctual, I couldn’t get a hold of him yesterday afternoon and now he is 2 hours late, this is just so unlike him, I’m beginning to get concerned.” 

You felt sick. 

“I haven’t heard from him either, Jan, but I'm going to go to his place now and check on him, I really appreciate the call, can I take your number and update you?” Your managerial override kicking in as your panic increased with every passing second.

One you placed the phone back in the cradle you sat with your head in your hands, took some slow deep breaths before grabbing all your belongings and half running out the door.

—

By the time you were standing outside Kylo’s front door you had almost convinced yourself you were over-reacting.

If he hadn’t cut you loose already you were willing to bet that knocking down his front door in a frenzy would seal the deal.

But you just had this feeling. 

Something was wrong.

You knocked and waited. 

Knocked again. 

You rang his phone to no answer.

You tried the door handle, it was open. 

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you pushed the front door open cautiously. 

“Kylo?” You called, stepping over the threshold, “it’s just me…...checking on you….”

It was completely silent in the apartment. You felt like you were intruding, doubt plaguing you as you walked towards the living area. 

You were stopped in your tracks by a pair of dress shoes, haphazardly strewn in the hallway like they had been kicked off. Not neatly placed, odd. You knew enough about Kylo to know he liked order. 

Stepping into the kitchen your blood ran cold at the scene before you. 

A smashed glass on the tiles and- what was that? Blood?!

You began running, bursting through his bedroom door, the bed was made and untouched but you could see light shining from the en-suite bathroom.

“Ohshitohfuck!” You could see him lying on the tiles from where you stood in the bedroom. 

Your legs somehow carried you to the bathroom. You knelt down next to him, you could see his chest rising and falling, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled in relief. 

“Kylo?” You said softly, touching his arm. He didn’t stir, even when you repeated yourself louder. His skin was clammy and off color, he lay in a sort of fetal position. His knuckles were bloody, but the blood had dried and clotted.

“Shitshitshitshit.” you hissed.

You hadn’t evening looked around the room, too focused on Kylo. 

The bathroom looked like a hurricane had hit, the cracked mirror explained his bloody knuckles. However this didn’t scare you as much as the tiny ziplock bag on the counter. A few used needles, lighter and spoon in the sink. 

You tried to control your breathing, leaning against the vanity. This was not the time to fall to pieces. 

You began to look for his phone, eventually locating it on the kitchen counter. 

You tapped the home screen, seeing all the missed calls and messages from yourself and Jan. You let our a shaky breath when you realised his lock screen was a picture of you and 3 giant pizzas that he had taken after the charity event. 

 Running back to the bathroom you gently used his thumb to unlock the phone. 

Pushing aside intense feelings of guilt for going through his phone, you tapped into the recent calls, hoping to find anyone you could call. Nothing helpful. 

Opening the messages there were yours, unread. Below was a thread with ‘Luke from Group’.

Your hand shook as you tapped into the thread from 2 days ago. 

Kylo Hi Luke, are the meetings still on the same day? I feel I may need to come to the next one.

Luke from Group Nice to hear from you, yes they still are. Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you need anything before then ok? Hope you are keeping well. 

Kylo Thank you, Luke.

“Okay” you breathed, ringing ‘Luke from Group.’

He answered after 2 rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, hello, I am Kylo’s…” you took a breath, “look, I've just found Kylo on the floor in his bathroom and I think he’s taken drugs.” You blurted.

There was a pause, in which wondered if you had just told some random acquaintance sensitive information.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, soothing your fried nerves. “Ok, i want you to position him so his airways are open, can you do that?” 

“Yes, let me put you on speaker.” 

Luke talked you through placing Kylo in a recovery position, before hanging up to come straight over. 

You sat, watching Kylo breath until you heard a knock at the door. 

-

Luke was an older gentleman with a kind face. 

He followed you to the bathroom and sighed sadly when he saw Kylo. “Oh dear, Kylo my boy....” 

He knelt down and tried to rouse him, having no more luck than you did.

“I think we need to get him somewhere more comfortable, he is going to feel like absolute hell the next few days.” Luke looked to you. 

“Let’s take him to my place- if you don’t mind? It will be easier for me to look after him there.” 

“You can look after him for the week?” 

“Yes, absolutely, I’ll sort all this,” You waved around at the trashed bathroom, “if you could guide me on what else to do?” 

“Well aren’t you a goddamn angel.” Luke said softly, looking at Kylo. 

You organized that Luke would go ahead with Kylo to your place and you would follow once you had grabbed Kylo’s things.

Another friend of Luke’s arrived who knew Kylo, you assumed through the same channels. They somehow managed to support him enough to get him down the lift and into Luke’s car. 

Kylo was barely conscious, “he won’t remember any of this.” Luke told you, as you looked on.

Once the door closed behind them a deathly quiet settled over the apartment. 

You lent against the kitchen counter, no longer able to keep in the emotion, heaving sobs taking over your body. 

-

You found an overnight bag and stuffed as many clothes and toiletries of Kylo’s as you could inside, silently thanking him for his anal-retentive organization, which made everything easy to find. 

You cleaned up the bathroom as best you could, making a mental note to hire a glazier to replace the mirror. 

You rang work and took a week's leave, effective immediately citing a family emergency (close enough). 

You then rang Jan. 

You were trying to vaguely explain the situation, when Jan interrupted. 

“Y/n, i have to ask, has he relapsed?” Her voice was low, and uncharacteristically somber. 

“Yes.” Your voice wavered. 

“Oh y/n, darling, oh Kylo, oh what a shame, god he was just doing fantastically.” She lamented, “a horrible disease addiction, horrible!” 

You didn’t know what to say, there was something so motherly about Jan, you felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude that Kylo had her in his life. 

“Now don’t you worry about a thing here sweetheart, I will sort it all out- discreetly of course. You give Dr Ren my love won’t you, I'm so glad he has you y/n, so glad, god I have lost sleep over that damn boy” there was a fondness in her voice that sugested she cared about Kylo, very much. 

Ending the call you felt better, at least some things were in order, amidst the chaos.

-

You hardly remember driving home, your mind running 100 miles a second. 

You opened the front door to the smell of coffee.

Luke looked up as you walked into the kitchen, “I hope you don’t mind, I started a pot” he nodded at the coffee brewing in the French press.

“Not at all. How is he?” You walked to the door of your bedroom and peaked in. A large Kylo shaped mound was in your bed, still. 

“He woke briefly, I talked to him a little, he was still high but asked after you. Sleeping again now. He is going to feel like hell the next few days, but let’s talk about that over coffee.”

“I’m going to need sugar, cake?” You asked, opening the cupboard.

“I never turn down cake.” Luke smiled.

You cut generous slices of cake and settled at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee. 

“How long...ah, I assume you are romantically involved?” Luke asked, looking a bit embarrassed.

You sighed, “it’s creeping up to a year, we haven’t really been anything serious though, looks like it was heading that way recently.”

“Ah.” Luke nodded, as if things made sense to him now.

“Why do you ask?” 

“Kylo holds a belief that everyone or anything precious to him will leave him or be taken from him. He is a skilled self-saboteur” He mused before sipping his coffee. “I was wondering if anything major had happened….”

“Is this to do with his parents?” You asked.

“Without a doubt, without a doubt.” Luke nodded, “such a sad state of affairs.” 

You talked for a good hour, draining a few cups of coffee each. Luke ran you through the symptoms you should expect over the next week. It sounded horrible. 

Luke said he would come by and collect him in 2 days for the next meeting. You learnt they had met at an NA group and become unlikely friends. .

You saw Luke off with a hug and a torrent of thanks. 

-

You sat on the bed next to Kylo’s sleeping form and tried to read, eventually nodding off. 

You woke to a low groan. 

Kylo was rousing. He was coated in a layer of sweat and made a heart-wrenching whimpering noise.

“Kylo, it’s ok, I’m here.” You soothed, stroking his hair. 

“Y/n?” He croaked, half opening his eyes. 

Your eyes filled with tears, “yeah baby, it’s ok.” 

“Can you- I need-” he looked toward the bathroom desperately. 

“I’ll help you.” You clambered off the bed, going over to the side he was on and pulled back the covers.

His clothes were soaked with sweat, he shivered.

“Oh god, ok, let’s get you in the bathroom baby, I’ll run you a bath too.” 

You helped him up, and did your best to support him as he walked, like he had drunk a bottle of vodka, to the bathroom. 

He promptly threw up in the toilet. 

You held his hair out of the way, rubbing circles on his back as he heaved, emptying his stomach. 

You began running the bath, before getting a bottle of water from the fridge. 

His hands shook violently as he sloshed some into his mouth.

When his urge to vomit subsided he slouched against the wall, closing his eyes. 

-

When the bath was full you peeled Kylo’s clothes off and unwrapped the bandage Luke had used to cover his bloody knuckles before helping him into the warm water. He didn’t protest to any of your help, like you expected him to, he was silent, unable to meet your eyes. Defeated. 

He sat in the bath, head hung. When you fetched a cloth and gently wiped his back he began to sob.

You felt like someone had taken to your heart with a hammer. 

“Kylo.” Your voice cracked, “it’s going to be ok.”

You were knelt beside the tub helplessly as he cradled his head in his hands, body shaking with emotion.

Tears ran down your face. You didn’t know what else to do, so you stripped off your clothes and climbed in behind him. You wrapped your body around him as best you could, resting your forehead on his back. 

“Shhhhhhh, It’s ok, it’s ok, I got you, it’s ok.” You repeated softly until his gasping sobs subsided. 

“I’m sorry.” He croaked. “I’m so-” 

“Baby, don’t, it’s ok, it’s all ok. Let’s just get you sorted out for now ok?” You pressed a kiss on his spine before getting out of the bath and fetching him some sleep clothes, quickly stripping and remaking the bed.

Once he was clean, dry and in bed, you had a shower before crawling in beside him and taking his hand as he snored softly.

—

You woke the next to Kylo sitting up in bed next to you, gazing at you. 

“Hi.” You said softly.

He managed a sad, half hearted smile, looking like death warmed up. Dark circles under his eyes, skin devoid of warmth and eyes bloodshot.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

“Like shit. Predictably, which I deserve.” 

You sat up and took his hand, gently examining his injured knuckles. 

“If you were trying to scare me off, this was a noble effort.” You smiled weakly. “Although I’m afraid you only succeeded in giving me some grey hairs.”

You looked at him, his brow furrowed, “you have every right to cut me out of your life.”

“Well, I would never.” 

“You should.” He cast his eyes down. 

“Why?” 

“I’m a piece of shit junkie for a start.” His voice was heavy with self loathing. 

“Kylo no-” you tried.

“I am, you’d do well to run for the fucking hills.” 

“Well I won’t.” You snapped, dropping his hand with a scowl.

He looked at you, slightly shocked.

“For someone so smart, you sure are thick!” You felt hot tears run down your face. “Because I love you, you big, beautiful idiot, I’m deeply, irreversibly in love with you.”

Kylo looked like you had slapped him in the face, mouth hung slightly open.

“I know this didn’t start as-” you began, in a panic.

He pulled your body into his in one quick movement, his grip tight, he cradled you, pressing his own, now damp cheek to your forehead.

“I fucking love you so much.” He choked. 

The dam broke, you burst into tears. Heaving sobs into his chest. He rocked you. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” He repeated, over and over. 

“I thought-.. i thought i-.. i had lost you.” you sobbed into his chest.

You stayed there, clutching each other for a long time, safe in the knowledge that your feelings were reciprocated, that you didn’t have to endure a heartbreak.

-

Luke came the next day, they went to an NA meeting, you cooked dinner while they were out, glad to have a menial task to focus on. 

Luke stayed long after dinner, talking with Kylo in your living room, you busied yourself doing other things, laundry, dishes, anything to give them time together. 

“I knew soon after i met her, she was my person, you know? I’ve never felt...so alive around someone before” you heard Kylo confide in Luke.

You paused, feeling guilty for eavesdropping.

“Don’t you let her go boy, anyone who doesn’t bolt in a time like this is worth their weight in gold. Y/n has you back. My first wife dropped me like a hot potato when she found out i was using.” 

“I just don’t feel like I deserve her.”

“You can’t keep punishing yourself like this Kylo. Have you thought about therapy, if not for your sake, for hers?”

Kylo sighed, “I have connections enough to find a therapist.”

“Please consider it, therapy has kept me clean for 20 years and you know what, if you want to make a life with y/n i would say it is a damn necessity.”

“You’re right, it’s just…”

“I know it’s hard, it’s painful, but god, it’s worth it, and you have a beautiful woman willing to stick this out with you. You are a lucky son of a bitch.” Luke laughed. 

-

With Luke’s help you got Kylo through the week, his color finally came back and the symptoms of withdrawals slowly eased. 

Luke ferried him off to NA meetings and therapist appointments almost daily. He insisted, saying you needed time to relax.

Kylo came back from long therapy sessions looking wrung out, his eyes often puffy. 

“I’ve never cried so much in my life.” he had mumbled, laying on the couch, his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

-

You both took another week off.

Jan came over at your invitation and promptly burst into tears when she saw Kylo, batting him over the head then giving him a fierce hug. 

Your own eyes teared up, but you laughed at the look of bewilderment on Kylo’s face as he patted her back awkwardly. 

“You really hit the jackpot with this one Kylo, i don’t know what i would have done without y/n last week - my god!” she sniffed, dabbing her eyes before hugging you with the same enthusiasm. You winked at Kylo over her shoulder. He mouthed “brat”.

“You’ll give her a big head Jan.” he teased. 

Jan spun around, and Kylo, bless him, looked slightly fearful. 

“Now listen here you! I may not be your mother, but you are damn near like a son to me and i swear to god i have been praying for someone like y/n to come along for you! You treat her like a damn Queen or you’ll have me to answer to! You hear?!” She had her hands on her hips.

Kylo held up his hands, “Yes ma'am!”

You were snickering as Jan batted him around the head again.  

-

Kylo was slowly returning to the one you knew, you loved. 

You fell into an easy routine of domesticity. Enjoying the simple things like cooking for Kylo, reading in bed together before falling asleep and drinking coffee in the morning sun. 

You were taking long walks together daily, around the city and you had been showing him all your favorite galleries, talking him through the art. He would gaze at you as you talked, like you had hung the moon. 

You hadn’t been intimate since…. the event, for obvious reasons. 

But today, today he was handsy. The little smack on your ass when you handed him a coffee. The graze of his fingers over your stomach and the gentle kiss on your neck as you cooked dinner. 

“You must be feeling better.” You teased, his hand creeping under your shirt as you watched tv together. 

He hummed in agreement, with that smirk you so adored, “I’ve missed my partner's body.”

You raised your eyebrows with a smile, “partner huh? I like that.”

He smiled, hand continuing to roam.

“I’m gonna take a shower then I’ll meet you in bed?” You asked hopefully.

“I’ll be waiting, Kitten.” 

He smacked your ass as you clambered off the sofa.

-

When you walked back into the bedroom, naked, he was sitting up, reading, and stilled when he looked up. 

“Come here.” His voice husky as he blindly placed the book down. 

You sauntered over, swaying your hips with a grin.

“Little devil.” He pushed the sheets down revealing his half hard cock, “come sit on my lap Kitten.”

There he was, your man. 

You eagerly climbed up and onto his thighs, you were already wet from sheer anticipation.

He took your face in his hands, sucking your bottom lip gently and smiling against your mouth at the little moan you uttered. 

Your hands became lost in his hair as you kissed. He became fully hard beneath you, your hips moving to drag your pussy along his length. 

“God Kitten, I've missed this.” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours as you reached down and positioned his cock. 

You gasped softly in unison as you slid down onto him, your lips meeting again as you began to roll your hips slowly. 

Kylo’s lips traveled along your jaw and down your neck, planting sweet kisses, while his hands explored your body. One rested on your ass, squeezing your flesh gently, the other on your breast, fingers tweaking your nipple.

“Let me do the work now.” he said softly, before rolling you both so you were beneath him. You spread your legs wide and pulled them up to your torso so he could bury himself as deep as possible.  

You hummed happily when he took your nipple in his mouth, tongue flicking and swirling.

He used one hand to hold his weight off your body, the other cupped your face, his thumb grazing your lips as little whimpers of pleasure tumbled from them. Your tongue darted out, mouth opening in invitation. He pushed his thumb in and you sucked as his hips moved a bit faster. 

“Look at you.” voice tinged with awe and adoration. You met his gaze, pulling his thumb from your mouth.

“I love you, baby” you breathed, “so much.”

You swore his eyes got a little misty as he gave a happy groan, pressing himself as close to you as possible, head burrowing into your neck.

“Y/n,” he murmured, “god i- you’re-”

You moaned as he moved, just so, finding your g-spot. 

“I want to do everything with you, only you.” he panted.

“Everything?” 

“Mmmmmph, make you my-....wife, prettylittlewife.” 

You gasped, moaning happily.

He growled in your ear, “You like that? Fuck- how about i put it baby in that belly, Kitten?”

You whimpered, arching your back at his cock pounded your g-spot, his words of such devotion fueling the fire in your abdomen. 

“Yeeeeesssss, fuck- Kylo.”

He reached and began to rub your clit, the way he had learnt you liked. 

“I love you.” he breathed, kissing your neck as you began to climax beneath him. You moaned loudly, clutching at him as you rode out your orgasm. 

He thrust a few more times and came with a grunt as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

-

When you were curled up together, on the precipice of sleep, he murmured “I meant what i said earlier y/n, about doing everything, you’re my person.”

--

Author note:

YOU MADE IT. IT IS ALL OK. I actually made myself cry while writing this chapter. I’m going to blame hormones, I'm such a soft bitch. I realise the whole dealing-with-kylos-addiction situation is not an accurate representation of how this would or should be handled in reality. Please take it for what it is. Fiction.  Alright i am going to push publish now and go hide.  Cheerio. 

[aewriting]

This story idea for 9-1-1 Lone Star hit me last night, and made me realize that I haven't written anything from Carlos's perspective yet.  I feel like there's a lot we still don't know about Carlos, but here's my attempt to fill in a few blanks.

Warning for sexual references.

Here it is on AO3, if you prefer.

***

It’s been... a while, since Carlos felt this way. Longer than he really cares to think about. Giddy, almost. Distracted. He’d been surprised when T.K. had texted him about going to a club, taking a friend out with them. “Friend,” huh? Playing third wheel to T.K. and some new guy was not his idea of a fun time. In fact, it made him question T.K.’s motives, even more than he had been already. Because T.K. had been quite the cypher. Here’s what he knew. Real name was Tyler Kennedy. Hot as fuck. Good with his mouth. Good with his whole damn body, actually. And Carlos’s, fuck. Liked it a little rough... maybe even a lot rough, depending. Firefighter. Captain’s son. Moved here from New York City about three months ago. Has been up really high, forty-plus stories on the, the Chrysler building, was it? Going, going through some shit. Obviously. He instigated that fist fight at that shady bar, so some adrenaline-seeking behavior, maybe? Apparently had a bad break up in New York, relapsed, is in recovery now (prefers mineral water), has some mood stuff going on... Is not looking for anything serious right now. So, yeah, he didn’t have the best reaction to the whole text about the club. Until T.K. clarified. Paul just got shot down. Think he needs some fun. Carlos had frowned. Paul. Paul Strickland? He was another firefighter with the 126. Where you thinking? Thought maybe you could guide us. Then, I want to dance. Carlos exhaled. Yeah, he wanted T.K. to dance, too. Preferably with him. There’s Rain on 4th. Sounds good. We get off at 10. Carlos had looked at the phone, debated what he was about to type, wondered if it was too transparent. Paul ok with going to a gay club? Yeah, had come T.K.’s quick reply. He’s straight but he’ll be cool with it. And Carlos had finally relaxed, at that. I’ll drive, he’d typed out, allowing himself a small smile. He’d showered carefully, brushed and flossed his teeth, styled his hair. Put on a little cologne. Spent too much time debating what to wear, because... because he wanted to impress T.K., dammit, but didn’t want it to be obvious. He’d finally settled on a t-shirt and jeans - casual but still nice. Flattering. And, yeah, he’d even gone to one of those drive-through car washes. And when T.K. bounded down the steps of the 126, flashing him a conspiratorial smile and leaning easily against his car, hip to hip with Carlos, he knew that all his preparations had been worth it.

It had felt good, walking into the club next to T.K. - even better when T.K. reached for him, brought him in close. Carlos doesn’t think he’s a particularly possessive guy, not one to show off, either, but there was something about being in that club with T.K., seeing people’s eyes on him, on them, together... it gave him a boost, a direct shot to his ego, having this gorgeous guy on his arm, dancing up against him for anyone to see. Fuck, he’s got it bad. Which is probably why he’s still thinking about it days later. At work. When he should be finishing up a report. He sighs deeply and redirects his attention to his computer. “Hola, Carlos,” comes a familiar, and rather unwelcome voice. “Hello, Roger,” Carlos says, purposefully. Roger was one of only a handful of out cops in the department, and of that small group, he was Carlos’s least favorite. By far. He’d always found him to be overly familiar. Unprofessional. Vain as hell. He’d been relentless when he’d found out Carlos was gay, making pointed comments about how much he wanted to get to know Carlos better, how helpful it would be to let off some steam together... Roger was attractive, and Carlos would be lying if he said he’d never thought about it, but after one particularly lewd comment, Carlos had made it very clear that their... preferences were simply incompatible. While that had at least stopped Roger from directly propositioning him, it didn’t stop the conversation entirely, just shifted it. When Roger approached him now, it was often to brag - about his prowess, his partners. The company dancer with Ballet Austin, the hot barista, the musician... Carlos tried to shut it down, when he could, but with a guy like Roger it was hard sometimes. “How was your weekend?” Roger asks. “Fine,” Carlos says, nonchalant. “Picked up a shift late Friday.” “And after that? You go out?” Roger smiles. “Do anyone fun?” Carlos looks at him sharply, and he’s still grinning. It clearly wasn’t a slip. Roger just tilts his head to the side. “I saw you. At Rain.” Shit. “Yeah?” Carlos says, casually. “Yeah. Waved to you.” “I must have missed you.” Roger shrugs. “Yeah, well, I was up on the second level, and you looked a little, ah, preoccupied.” He gives Carlos a lascivious grin, pulls up a chair, and sits down. Carlos rolls his eyes. “I’m on the clock, here,” he says. “Um, not anymore, Reyes. It’s noon. Lunch break.” Damn him. He must have planned the timing of this. Carlos rubs a hand tiredly over his face. “Eat in the break room with me?” And unfortunately, he can’t think up a good excuse not to, at the moment. “Fine,” Carlos says, tightly. He takes his time getting his lunch out of the shared fridge and heating it up - anything to delay the inevitable conversation with Roger. He knows that look, on Roger, that tone, and he suspects that he hasn’t heard the end of his night out. As expected, Carlos barely sits down before Roger’s talking again. “Quite the little piece of ass you were with. Hope you got some of that. Way he was dancing, kid’s a fucking tease if you didn’t.” He didn’t. Get some. Not in the way Roger means, not that night. What he had gotten, though, was a smile, a genuine one when they’d dropped Paul off at his house, loose and laughing. A firm squeeze of his hand when they’d finally said goodbye at the end of the night. A soft but earnest, “I had a really good time tonight.” Carlos exhales, looks at Roger. “The guys I was out with are colleagues, actually. From the 126. New in town.” He sees the recognition, then, on Roger’s face. The realization. “Oh shit, wait, for real? Was that the new Captain’s son? T.J.? T.R.?” “T.K.,” Carlos says tightly. “That’s it, yeah.” Roger laughs a little. “They came down from New York City, right?” “Yeah,” Carlos replies. Roger grins, all teeth. “Well, shit. Kid knows what he’s doing then, huh?” Carlos frowns. “He and his father have been good additions to the team. Definitely experienced.” Roger barks out a laugh. “I wasn’t talking about that kind of experience.” He shakes his head. “I swear, Carlos, you could be cleaning the fuck up if you would just use a goddamn app. You know how many guys the whole cop thing works for?” He smiles again. “I’ve never fucked a firefighter, though. You think he’s into cops? Or better yet,” Roger leans in closer, winks, “you think he likes it when they’re into him?” And that’s about enough. “Think you’d have to ask him that,” Carlos says, voice cold. He makes a show of snapping his lunch case shut, getting up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a report to finish.” He’s up and leaving before Roger can say anything else. Moves quickly back to his desk and sits down heavily. Damn. Roger’s comments have left him off-balance, out of sorts. Because he knows, knows he has no claims over T.K. - T.K.’s made that very clear. But the idea of T.K. with someone like Roger... He shakes his head. Nope. Don’t think about it. T.K.’s a grown man who can do whatever the hell he wants. And Carlos is a grown man, too, with a very real report that needs completed before end of shift today. But he can’t stop thinking about it. He knows, more than he wants to, about what Roger’s into… and knows it’s not a bad fit, necessarily, for T.K.  And the fact that T.K.’s on Roger’s radar now, well... Carlos can’t help but picture them together - T.K. on his knees for Roger, Roger’s hands on T.K.’s skin, Roger using his body to pull all those wrecked sounds out of him... Shit. This has to stop. He’s not, not usually like this. What the hell is it about T.K. that’s gotten to him like this? He decides to take a lap, goes to the water cooler to refill his bottle. By the time he gets back to his desk, he’s feeling clearer - or at least a little more determined not to think about things he can’t control.

*** It’s almost a week later, and a delegation of first responders is all gathered at city hall for a training about an impending upgrade to the 911 network. Michelle’s there, as are representatives from the 126 - T.K. and Marjan, specifically. Carlos gives a little nod T.K.’s direction, is relieved when T.K. returns the favor. They break for lunch - a catered deal with sandwich fixings, chips, cookies. Carlos is about to rip open a little bag of Lay’s when T.K. approaches him. “Hey.” “Hey,” Carlos replies, looking T.K. over a bit. He looks nervous, almost. “It’s nice out. Wanna sit outside?” Carlos glances to his left, at Michelle, who is just about to start in on her turkey sandwich. She smiles. “It’s pretty bright out, and I don’t have my sunscreen on.” Carlos doesn’t miss her slight smirk, her raised eyebrow. “Why don’t you two go ahead without me?” Carlos gives her a little look, feels the way she kicks him under the table. “Okay. See you in a bit, then.” He grabs his lunch, follows T.K. out to a little picnic table. After some standard pleasantries and a brief discussion about a recent house fire they both worked, T.K. puts his sandwich down. Bites his lip. “You, um, you know a guy named Roger? Roger Sizemore? He’s a cop.” And now Carlos is setting his sandwich down too, responding carefully. “Yeah, I know him. Why?” “Just... I dunno, he was working a call with us - that accident out by the airport yesterday, the bad one.” Carlos nods. “You...” T.K. pauses. “You guys friends, or anything?” He glances down. “Said he knew you, and I wasn’t sure how, if it was just, like, work stuff, or...” He trails off. “Yeah,” Carlos replies quickly. “It’s just work. We’re not, not close or anything.” T.K. seems to relax a bit, at that. “Okay, yeah, I didn’t think so but figured I’d ask.” He looks up at Carlos with those big eyes. “What do you think of him?” He’s an ass, Carlos wants to say. Doesn’t. “He... he can be a bit much, sometimes.” And T.K. blows out a breath, chuckles a little. “Fuck, yeah, glad it wasn’t just me, then.” He shakes his head. “Dude fucking hit on me. Like, hardcore. Right in the middle of a call.” His eyes narrow a bit. “Said... said he heard I liked guys in uniform.” Carlos closes his eyes, briefly. Fucking Roger. “I... god, I’m sorry, T.K. he saw us together out at Rain the other night, with Paul. Asked me about you. Told him that if he was interested, he’d have to ask you, no one else.” T.K. nods, a little tight. “Yeah, well, he asked, alright. Honestly, he’s gonna get himself in trouble with HR if he keeps doing shit like that on the job.” “Don’t I know it,” Carlos mutters. “And I’ve told him that. He used to pull the same thing with me until...” “Until what?” “’Until I turned him down.” T.K. leans back a little in his seat. Looks pleased. “Well, that makes two of us.” Carlos quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?” “Oh yeah,” T.K. said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “I just told him the truth, though.” “And what’s that?” T.K.’s smile grows. “I just... kindly let him know that I do like a man in uniform. One very specific man.” Carlos’s eyes go almost comically wide. T.K. shrugs. “What can I say, Officer, this whole thing,” he gestures to Carlos’s uniform, “definitely works for me.” He ducks his head, then, looks almost a little shy. “And I know I said I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and then you said you weren’t trying to be my boyfriend, but... truth is I like you and, and I have fun with you, and I hope you don’t mind me saying so.” If they weren’t in the middle of a work function, Carlos would have kissed him right then. Settles for grabbing his hand under the table, squeezing. “Don’t think I’ve ever minded anything less.”

[urmomification]

WOOO POG DREAM SMP AU

theres 1.8k words and 9,393 characters of a schlatt au below the cut LMAO

[i was rambling to my friend and this is what came out of it! send me an abt it if u have questions i would love to talk abt it more pls]

(slight body horror/gore tw!!)

slams fists on table rattling any dishes on the table au where schlatt doesnt die of a heartattack and tubbo locks him up to rot basically and his horns grow into his eyes effectively blinding him and chained his hands together and basically a leash on him to keep him from moving around in his cell so he cant do anything to break the horns off before they get too long and one day when technos breaking into lmanberg he gets chased into the prison and loses them in the halls before coming across schlatts cell and schlatts calling out like 'whos there i can hear ur foot steps whos there please someone whos there' etc yk and technos speechless they thought they executed him to keep him from causing any more problems in the country but this is this is just much worse than anything he even thought theyd do and hes standing in front of schlatts cell just looking at him as if hes imagining it he knew lmanberg was bad but holy fuck they just let this man rot in a cell to the point of his own horns blinding him and giving him no aid or way to ease the pain so he makes himself known and schlatt 'ive never been so happy to see, well, hear an anarchist in my life, its good to see- hear you technoblade' and chuckles and blood runs down his face like tears would, few drops landing on his clothes before techno starts trying to get into the cell to take him out of there he cant leave him here sure he was an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but he had standards and now that schlatt wasnt in power he had nothing against him really considering he isnt a citizen of lmanberg so he manages to pick the locks enough to get him out of there, schlatts arm slung over technos shoulder they stumble out of the prison building and as they slowly make their way to the nether portal to get back to technos base, they run into tubbo and quackity, schlatts old right hand men and they try to stop techno bc hes well an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but the glare techno gives them levels them and theyre left staring at each other for a moment when schlatt 'whyre we stopped whos there tech' and techno mumbles 'tubbo and quackity schlatt' and schlatt just furrows his brows as far as he can without sending excruciating pain into his eye sockets before he purses his lips and asks 'are they going to try and stop us?' techno looks back at the other two 'no they wont, isnt that right boys?' tubbo and quackity slink away allowing techno and schlatt to the portal and them going thru, schlatt still silent as he tries not to trip over technos cape or off the ledge of the bridge passing over the lava lakes, they make it to the portal and begin the walk across the arctic tundra to technos house, philza isnt there right now so its just the two of them and techno leads him up the ladder to his room (its not really a room i think its just a bed, a bell and an enchantment table) and sits him down on his bed mumbling something abt being right back and he is with some medical supplies and a change of clothes to clean everything up, they dont talk techno works in silence and when schlatt winces he mumbles a small apology before continuing eventually techno got schlatt as cleaned up as you can get someone w horns in their eyes and a sweater to keep him warm and finally starts asking questions 'how long had u been in there' 'lost count' 'did they bring you food' 'a chests worth at the beginning of the month' techno sighs 'i thought they executed you' 'tubbo chickened out despite me being 'an active threat to our peace in lmanberg' and locked me up a few days after u set the withers loose and dropped off a chest of food once a month and most of them refused to talk to me others couldnt even make eye contact with me, other than the few instances where they said things like 'heres ur food' or 'u deserve this' or 'i cant believe tubbo let u live' i talked to no one other than myself for however long i was in there' techno stands and walks around for a moment before flipping some pages and schlatt can hear him gasp quietly in mild surprise 'what is it tech' looking in the direction he heard techno from and techno says, turning to face schlatt on his bed 'schlatt that was almost 3 months ago' a single beat of silence rings for what feels like forever 'oh. i, i didnt think itd been that long. though it would explain my current predicament' loosely gesturing towards his face 'oh right abt that i have a few questions if ur ready to answer some' schlatt hums and techno grabs a pen and paper and sits next to him in case he needs to take any notes for future reference 'how fast do ur horns normally grow' 'idk just a steady amount my whole life pretty much' 'will they ever stop growing' 'they generally stop growing around 30 and continue to grow more in width than length' 'did anyone who brought u food notice' 'they grow quickly and by the time the person w the third chest came around they were getting close to my eyes but they didnt listen to me, no one did' he sighs looking down at would be his hands 'the odds of both of my horns growing into my eyes and blinding me like this are so low but of course it would happen to me' a chuckle void of any amusement 'because losing my country and my people and my power wasnt enough already' techno stands up 'you had that coming' schlatt actually laughs this time, short and curt 'ok fair, u were the one that took me down afterall' and from then on schlatt lives w techno and phil and eventually tommy and then without tommy (tommy was Not happy when he found out that schlatt was living with techno but he needed somewhere to stay too and techno happens to live in an arctic tundra where only a handful of people know how to get to so he didnt complain too much) and eventually techno saws off schlatts horns at the bend adn removes them from his eyes bc if they kept growing into his head theyd hit his brain and kill him on top of blinding  him and techno gags and almost throws up despite not being sensitive to gore  and gives schlatt a bandanna to cover the holes in his head for everyones sake and once they heal somewhat he can find something else out and thats how they live, schlatt helps with what he can like farming w phil but mostly spends his time learning braille or something so he can read and techno gets him books in braille so he isnt bored or alone like he was in the prison and he feeds him and takes care of him and schlatt is funny and entertaining despite being blinded by something from his own body and the torture it was like to rot in a cell alone for almost a 1/4 of a year and nights when techno gets home late and hes shaken and the voices are bad schlatt will sit behind him and play with his hair and talk abt his own day and rub technos back and in return when schlatt relapses and gets violent and angry techno will wash his hair and read him stories until he calms down and hopefully asleep and no one told him the news that wilbur died so when ghostbur shows up and starts talking to him he treats him the same as he would wilbur bc he cant see that hes a ghost all thats different is his speech pattern and overall personality and one day he says 'ur different wilbur what happened to that, i dunno spark u used to have' and wilbur simply 'im not sure if im being honest a lot abt me has changed since i died, or so im told i dont remember much from when i was alive' and schlatt just 0_0 and then hes scrambling down the ladder and stumbling around the house looking for techno, finding him in the basement working on something and when he gets there hes out of breath and his hands are shaking bc holy shit wilburs not only dead but a ghost and he was just talking to me and he doesnt remember what i did and and and and techno is shocked to see schlatt in the basement and asks whats up and schlatt just 'wilbur died wilbur fucking died tech why didnt anyone tell him and now hes a ghost hes a fucking ghost who lives in ur house and doesnt remember anything he doesnt remember that he blew up lmanberg does he he remembers my name but not anything that i did what hes a fucking ghost techno hes a ghost holy fuck' and technos just standing there like ??? no one no one told him 'yea philza had to kill him after he blew up lmanberg i thought u knew thats why i didnt say anything' oh. 'phil, phil had to kill him?' 'yea its a touchy subject, dont bring it up' and simply goes back to what he was working on so schlatt sits on the ground by the ladder and listens to him work his brain going a mile a minute trying to comprehend whats going on 'would i have become a ghost if theyd chosen to execute me?' 'its hard to say im unsure if theres specific circumstances that contribuite to someone becoming a ghost but theres really no telling' and goes back to working yet again and from then on they fall into an easy schedule of techno going out and doing whatever an anarchist terrorist w a murder record does on ur average wednesday and schlatt stays home reading and organizing whatever he can based on size and feeling and sleeping in windowsills and schlatt greeting techno comes home beaten up and full of new resources and a side of bruises and cuts so he tends to them, getting better at maneuvering and functioning without needing to see then techno making dinner and then curling up by the fire for the night enjoying each others company as they talk abt their days :]

[sardonicnihilism]

A Biography of the Woman Who Never Was

Part 3 The Young Adult

Chapter 33

"Whatta mean your not coming back?" Sam asked in shock. "What are you thinking? Do you know the difference between what a college grad makes and just a high school grad? Not to mention the jobs. What're you going to do? Clean shitters the rest of your bloody life?"

Shannon just drove; her face was an unmoving mask of stone.

"Bloody hell Shannon; do you know what your doing?" Sam demanded, angry by her seemingly ignoring him.

"I have other opportunities." Shannon said without emotion. "My band has a show coming up and Relapse Records is sending a talent scout to check us out. Also, I've been talking to Metal Blade Records, and they want a promo pack from us. This could be our big break. I don't need college anymore."

"The operative word is 'could' there. It could all go south there. Then where would you be?"

"Not stuck with a bunch of stuck up rich kids who think of people like me as trash," she said defensively.

"You've put two years in already. - spent thousands of dollars. You drop out now, that's all gone; flushed down the toilet."

"I've gotten what I needed out of it." Her voice said that she was done talking about it and he needed to shut up about it.

"What's your mum say? Or haven't you told her yet?" Sam waited for an answer, but Shannon just drove in silence. Angrier now, he decided to keep pressing the issue. "Didn't you just apologize to someone for not taking their advice? Are you really thick enough to make the same fucking mistake twice?"

Shannon slammed on her brakes. "Get out," she said in a quiet fury.

"What? How the hell am I going to get back now? It's over twelve miles from here to campus."

"Not my problem," Shannon said in that same soft but furious voice. Then she screamed, "GET OUT!"

Sam sneered, opened the door, and got out. As soon as he had shut the door, Shannon peeled off.

********************************************

It was the night of the show and Shannon paced around nervously. Her drums were set up and ready to go. James and Charlie talked and schmoozed with the other bands, but Shannon was to worked up to talk to anyone. She wondered where the Relapse guy was. More importantly, she wondered where Dustin was.

She started to look around, almost in a panic. Charlie looked over and saw that she was about to go into a full blown melt down. He walked over and asked what was wrong.

"You know where Dustin is?" she asked, almost as a plea.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon. Kid's only nineteen but he's got a good head on his shoulders. He'll be here," he reassured her.

About ten minutes later, Dustin did walk in. He had on black, vinyl boots, fishnet stockings, black vinyl, booty shorts, a fishnet halter top, black nail polish, lipstick, and eye liner.

"Jesus Christ," Shannon whispered to herself and ran over to him. Charlie and James must have thought the same thing as they also came running over.

"Dude, what's with the Marilyn Manson get up?" James asked, half amused, half pissed.

"What? We got a label scout coming," Dustin replied, honestly confused by everyone's reaction. "I'm just trying to make an impression."

"Dude," Charlie said, "look at us. We're all in t-shirts and jeans man. You stick out like a sore thumb."

"Relax Charlie. It'll be ok. Besides, I don't have time to go back home and change."

They reluctantly acquiesced and Dustin disappeared to hang out with the other bands.

"Mother fucker has more makeup on than I do," Shannon said, both angry and scared.

The rest of the time went by fast. They hung out for another half hour when the sound man gave them the thumbs up. As they made their way up to the stage, Shannon saw Dustin stumbling in from out back. There was no mistaking the kid was drunk. Shannon cursed to herself but still held out hope he could still pull this off.

He couldn't.

Dustin moved around the stage like he was lost, even falling off stage at one point.. His playing was so sloppy, he threw Charlie and Shannon off a couple times. Eventually the sound man just cut out of the PA. To make matters worse, James forgot his lyrics. After the second song, he went and grabbed his notebook and read the lyrics as he sang. It was a complete and utter shit show. They didn't get signed that night, but one of the other bands did.

The next Sunday, Shannon showed up for practice. She was angry and ready to let loose when James and especially Dustin showed up. Her anger quickly turned to concern when she saw Charlie's face.

"Hey," he said sounding depressed. "We need to talk."

"Sure," Shannon said as she walked in.

"Listen, I can't do this anymore. Both Dustin and James called me and said they were out. James is moving back to Oklahoma and Dustin said he's not into being in a band anymore."

Charlie made a deep sigh and continued. "How many mother fuckers have we gone through over the past couple years? We just keep going through asshole after asshole and getting nowhere, and I just can't keep doing dude. I'm done. I'll help you pack your drums up if you want."

"Wait. What about Metal Blade? What if we just went on as a two piece?" Shannon was practically begging, abject terror rising in her heart. She had just dropped out of school, this was supposed to be her big break. She had nothing else besides this.

Charlie just shook his head. "I'm sorry Shannon, but I can't handle this anymore. There's too much else I can be doing besides constantly getting disappointed by dickheads."

Shannon nodded her head, heartbroken. She went down, packed her stuff up and left. After she got home, she unloaded her stuff in the basement and went upstairs to her room where she just stared at the ceiling in a numb stooper. About 3 hours later, her mother called her, she had a phone call.

Shannon slowly walked down the stairs and took the phone. She felt completely dead inside. She didn't want to talk to anyone but couldn't muster the energy to say no.

"Hello," she said in a dead voice.

"Hey, you're mum called me and told me what happened. I'm so sorry for you mate," Sam said from the other end.

Shannon was completely dumbfounded. She hadn't talked to him since she kicked him out of her car a month ago. How, why would he care about reaching out and consoling her after all that? It didn't make any sense. She never would have done it if the roles had been reversed.

"Um, thanks. I, ah, appreciate that," was all she could say.

"Hey, listen; I've got some free time here time here. If you want to pop around, maybe we could hang out or something. Watch some movies, order a pizza or whatever."

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

[artificialqueens]

Coming Home Chapter 9 (Shalaska) - Jem

AN: I’m sorry

TW: drinking, drugs, past addiction

Summary: the winner of this year’s Miss Communication pageant is…

“Violet, I was worried sick, are you ok?” The girl nodded but didn’t answer as Alaska let her into the car.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Alaska pressed, not turning the keys in the ignition until she had some answers.

“It’s nothing.” Violet said firmly. She could barely wrap her head around what had just happened. Her brain was still fuzzy with alcohol and she was mostly just confused. It wasn’t really Matt’s fault, and she shouldn’t have been so cold to him, but nothing made sense right now and she was scared.

“How did you end up out here so late? I got home from Willam and Courtney’s and you were gone. I didn’t know what to think.” Alaska’s voice was shaky, and it had a tinge of desperation to it.

It became apparent to Violet that Alaska was really worried, even angry, and in the moment she was very overwhelmed with fear. How could she tell Alaska what had happened? She’d never forgive her. She’d gone and messed up everything, just like usual, and what if her and Sharon decided they didn’t want her anymore after this? She’d stolen from them, and broken Sharon’s crown, after all.

“Can we please go home?” She tried to change the subject.

“Violet-

“I really don’t want to do this right now.” She raised her voice, and God did she sound like a cunty teenager when she did. Whatever it would take to get Alaska off her back.

“We can’t just pretend you didn’t call me crying, that your hair and clothes aren’t a mess. You smell like alcohol, and now I’ve come to get you and you’re out here, alone, in the middle of nowhere.” Alaska’s voice was getting much louder, much more upset. “Fuck, I need you to talk to me sometimes!”

“Nothing happened, don’t you listen?”

“I am trying to listen, but I don’t understand. I’m upset because you won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have to fucking tell you everything.” Violet snapped, frustrated with the non-stop pestering. There was no way around this and she was getting desperate.

“I’m not going to be angry with you, but I can’t help you if you don’t say anything.”

“I don’t need help.” Violet deadpanned. “Especially not yours.”

“I wish you would give me something here!” Alaska suddenly began to cry. “I can’t handle this. Sometimes I can’t handle you.”

In seconds Alaska was a complete sobbing wreck and her cool facade melted away completely.

“What? Are you seriously breaking down right now?” Violet couldn’t believe this. Was this some kind of guilt tactic? She didn’t even feel bad now. “You’re just like my real mom. A fucking disaster who can’t take care of a mess like me.”

“Violet…” Alaska sobbed.

“You can’t handle me? Well fuck it then, I don’t need you. Go find the drugs that’ll make you feel better. It worked for my mom. It got rid of me.”

“Vi-

“Don’t start the car. I’ll walk.”

Before Alaska could protest, Violet was reaching for the car door and stumbling out in a huff. Alaska felt like she couldn’t breathe, her chest tightened, and she had to take a few minutes to ride out the panic attack. She’d been too harsh, and now she’d driven Violet away. She’d just been so worried.

There were stars in her vision but she tried her best to ground herself, paying close attention to specific details like her keys in the ignition, the sound of cars passing by, and the curve of the leather seat against her back. It felt like hours later when she finally calmed down, her body finally surrendering to a more relaxed state. Once her hands stopped shaking with the lack of blood circulation, she picked up her cellphone and dialled Sharon’s number.

“Lasky?”

“Fuck, Sharon. I messed up.” She nervously brushed her hair with the fingers on her free hand, and they got stuck in the tangles.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I messed up, and not like when I forgot to pick her up that one time after school, but like I really fucked up this time.” she rambled, getting panicky again. “Oh God, she hates me, I know she hates me.”

“Alaska, please slow down.”

“I can’t, fuck, Sharon!” Alaska sobbed. “She left the car, she must be heading home.”

“I’m almost home, I’ll talk to her. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I already did.” She’d already hurt Violet. God, how could she have said she couldn’t handle her? That wasn’t something you should ever say to someone who’d been passed from family to family her whole life because she was too “difficult”.

“Please, baby, can you call Will and Court and keep them on the line until you get home? I promise it’ll be ok.”

She tried really hard to believe her. Sharon would take care of this, Alaska assured herself. Sharon could always fix everything.

——-

Sharon waited in the living room anxiously for Violet to get home. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long before the teen was at the front door.

“Alaska called you?” Was the first thing Violet asked when she saw Sharon.

The woman nodded, her full lips a tight line. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?” She wasn’t too cold, but Violet could tell Sharon really wasn’t going to take shit tonight.

“You’re not my mom.” Violet said instead of answering, and God what kind of a shitty, foster-teenager answer was that?

“You’re right.” Sharon agreed firmly. “Your biological mother is in jail and I’m the one who’s taking care of you. She’s done a bit of a shit job at being a good ‘mom’.”

“You’ve done drugs, right Sharon?” Violet asked, stepping into the living room a bit predatorily. “I have too. And I hate that my own mother loved addiction more than she loved me, but I can see how it could happen. It makes everything hurt a bit less.”

“Violet…” Sharon’s voice softened bit.

“Alaska told me that you guys had it rough growing up, surely you understand.”

“I do.” Sharon admitted, somewhat tentatively.

“But I’ve gotten over it. I’ve had to be independent since I was able to walk.”

“I understand that.”

“I’m just not used to all of this. People, in general, don’t care about me.”

“But we care about you so much.”

“Do you? Because it feels like you’re spying on me, just waiting for me to slip up.” Violet was projecting and she knew it. But she had messed up and she was fucking terrified. She was never going to be safe, not here, not anywhere. She brought destruction with her everywhere she went and it was too much to have them both keeping such a close eye on her. She needed to be alone, the only place she was ever in control. Everything here had tricked her into thinking it was permanent, but nothing in her life ever was, not her friends, not the school, certainly not Alaska. Even Sharon, standing so statuesquely, could go from calm to fiery in a second.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Sharon was starting to loose her cool, Violet could tell. She certainly had a temper. “Just talk to us, that’s all we want, and let us help you when you need it.”

“Don’t you guys get it? I don’t want help!” Violet yelled. “I can’t do this today. You’ve both ganged up on me, and you said you were on my side!”

“Violet.”

“Alaska can’t handle me being here.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh it is, believe me.” Violet said bitterly, thinking back to the other woman shaking a crying in the car earlier. “Maybe it’s my fault. I fucking broke her. I don’t make things better, Sharon, I make them worse.”

Violet stormed out and slammed the door before the woman could speak again. She reached to wipe her face and was surprised to feel that underneath her eyes was wet with tears. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.

It was too late to catch a bus anywhere so she just walked and walked and walked until she found herself at the house she’d only ever seen from the outside, but knew Alaska and Sharon were unlikely to check first.

She would have gone to Fame’s if it wasn’t so far. Surely her mom would have gladly picked Violet up, but it was way too late for that. She’d go to her friend’s tomorrow. Instead, she walked up the porch of the small townhouse, ringing the doorbell anxiously.

It was a long wait, and Violet almost turned away because all the lights in the house were off. However, after a good ten minutes, the porch light flickered on, and a very sleepy-looking Jinkx Monsoon opened the door. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she was wearing an admittedly horrendous housecoat with a duck pattern embroidered on the lapels. If Violet wasn’t so upset she might have laughed or commented on the garment.

Without a question, the woman took her gently by the shoulder and let Violet inside.

—–

Alaska got home, waiting for Sharon to tell her everything was fine, that Violet had told her what happened, and she’d calmed down and forgiven Alaska. Instead, she was greeted with guilty eyes, and resting anger.

“This is my fault.” Alaska told Sharon.

“No, it’s not, you know it’s not.” Sharon tried to comfort her, but it felt like she was lying.

Alaska took off her coat and shoes, and the doorway seemed empty without Violet’s things next to hers. She joined Sharon on the sofa, sitting tensely without greeting her girlfriend’s eyes. “She’s right, I don’t know how to be a mother. Either I’m overbearing or I’m absent and neither of those extremes are healthy.” Alaska had messed up , even though she’d tried so hard not to. Violet had only called her out on the truth.

“That’s not true, she didn’t mean it.” Sharon reached for her hands, and Alaska was surprised by how warm the other woman’s palms were against her own.

“I fuck up, all the time. And God, Sharon, what if I relapse?” She ranted, pulling her hands away to gesture as she spoke. Despite her efforts to be the opposite of her own parents, Alaska could feel herself being pulled into the same pattern of “never there/always there” that her own mother had displayed. The genetic trait for mental illness was always looming over her head ominously. “she’s gonna end up just like us when we were young because I’m just like my own fucking mother.”

“You’re not, you love her.” Sharon reassured her.

“You always say that as if loving someone and hurting them are mutually exclusive. My mom loved me Sharon, but she still made me hate myself.”

“Teenagers fight with their parents, Alaska! You’re always acting like every bump in the road is the end of the world, but that’s just parenthood! She’ll probably be back in an hour, don’t be a baby.

“Fuck you.” Alaska said bitterly. “I don’t need this from you too.”

She stood up to head to bed, leaving Sharon alone in the living room with silence, and the flickering coffee table lamp.

————

Violet wasn’t back in an hour. Or four. Both Sharon and Alaska remained awake, still separated, waiting to hear the door. Sharon tried her cell phone a dozen times, and left a few desperate voicemails that she’d probably regret in the morning. Violet was a smart kid, and she’d definitely been on the streets alone for more than a night before, but she could also be impulsive sometimes.

Sharon only knew one of Violet’s friends, and after the hours stretched by with no sign of the girl, she searched through the online phone book praying the family would still have a home phone in this mobile age. Luckily, they did, and she was answered by a very sleepy-sounding woman that she was positive Violet hadn’t been around the house. Sharon apologized profusely for bothering them so late before hanging up.

She was exhausted, so she went a downed a beer from the back of the fridge and finally lulled herself to sleep on the couch.

[much-sports-anime-imagines]

can i request an angst with akashi. where his s.o breaks up with him because he cheated on her while he was drunk and s.o was so depressed that she cut herself and akashi finds out and happu ending? 😆

I just want to beginby saying that cutting and/or relapsing over a boy is NOT FUCKING WORTHIT!!!!!! (Really, nothing’s worth it tbh, but it’s a coping mechanism to manypeople, myself included, so I get it.) I do not condone self-harm nor gettingback together with someone who cheated on you even if they’re drunk. Under a break.

Also, I wrote alittle snippet of how Akashi felt and I didn’t really want to include it inthis (it just kinda messed with the flow of the scenario), but if you guys wantthen I can post it later.

Trigger warning:Self-harm, cutting

Blood dripped down over your arm, but you couldn’t find it inyourself to care. This was the one thing you had control over right now, andthe pain was a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions swirlinginside you. The tears had stopped, for once, and this was where you foundyourself most at peace.

At least for this moment everything was ok; nothing reallymattered. Your friends had been worried about you since the break up, butreally you felt nothing. They were always trying to get you to go out and havefun with them, but there was always an emptiness inside of you that nothingcould fill.

You sighed when the redness swirled into the bottom of thesink along with the feelings of profound loneliness. At least you had this fornow. After putting bandages on the wounds, you pulled the sleeve of your shirtdown to cover the evidence. Your friends had started to get suspicious, butyou’d promised them that you were fine and didn’t need their help.

As you started to make breakfast for yourself, there was aknock on the door of your apartment. Puzzled, you pattered over and opened thedoor a crack.

The person on the other side was the one you never wanted tosee again.

Quickly you slammed the door in his face and locked it.

“____, please!” his voice called out. “I…”

“I don’t want to hear it, Akashi!!!” you placed emphasis onhis last name, making sure he knew that you didn’t want anything to do with himanymore.

“I know that you don’t, but…” he sighed and you pressed yourear to the door. “I’m so, so, so very sorry for what I did to you. I wanted torespect your warranted anger and disbelief about what I’ve done. And I realizethat I’m the last person on the planet that you’d ever want to see again. ButI’m worried. Your friends told me that they think you’ve been hurtingyourself.”

You bit your lip and realized that tears had been cascadingdown your face. You wanted to forgive him, but there wasn’t a lot of basis tosay that he wouldn’t do the same thing again. But the concern in his voice madeyou remember what a good boyfriend he was to you, how much he’d treasured you.Surely you could try again?

“So what if I have?” you got out through a shaky voice.

“Oh, my love…” Akashi’s voice cracked. “Please don’t do that.Not over me. You don’t deserve to feel this way and I cannot express to you theregret I feel over driving you to do this.”

“Akashi, I…” you licked your lips and opened the door morethan you had before.

As soon as you made eye contact, the redhead pushed the dooropen and gave you a bone crushing hug. He hid his face in your shoulder and youcould feel his tears seeping through your shirt.

“I am so sorry, ____,” he whispered hoarsely. “I know thatyou’ll never fully forgive me for what I’ve done, and I don’t blame you, butplease… let me help you through this. Let me be your rock once more. Please.”

Realizing how genuine he was being, and how much he beathimself up over it, you gently embraced him back. “What you did wasn’t ok,Seijuro. And I may not be able to forgive you like you said.” His arms loosedtheir grip when he heard that, but you hugged him tighter. “But that doesn’tmean I won’t give you a second chance.”

He pulled back and looked into your eyes, his own shiningwith something akin to hope. “Thank you, ____. And I promise that I’ll neverhurt you like that again.”

As he hugged you once more, he made a vow to never touchalcohol again in his life. And you made a vow that, as long as Akashi was byyour side, you’d rely on him.

[aliceellablog]

Quackers.

Ok, so I am sat on my bed, it’s a Sunday afternoon and a week has passed since my last blog post. Chinese takeaway has been ordered HELL YAAASSS and now I just need to decide what to actually write about this week! Also, can I just say.... I AM WRITING BLOG 2 A WEEK LATER... AS PLANNED!!! .... Sorry... just never seem to be able to stick to these things!!

So the reaction I’ve had to my last post has been pretty overwhelming. So many people have got in touch to say how they can relate to my story, or to wish me well - which is rather bladdy lovely! :) I just wanted to get it all out there and I think this blog is helping me with the thing I probably find the hardest (other than feeling like utter shite of course) and that’s ‘acceptance’, so thank you for the support guys - really :)

This week has been pretty up and down, as per, I started the week with a few days resting at home, with Catfish pon d tele and with food entering my mouth at an alarming rate... I think I may have stretched my stomach... please help me... I then managed to get down to Saaaf Landannn midweek for a writing / recording session with the wonderful Warren Meyers (Audio Freaks) 

I’ve been working with Wol (Warren) for a good few years now and he has become a close friend of mine...... scrap that......he’s family :) He was the first producer / writer I started working with again after the long (maybe a year and a half?) break I’d had to take and we’ve written some of my favourite ever songs together!

So after the 2 and a half hour trek (travelling is THE WORST) I chilled at his for a bit and then we wrote verse 2 of a song called ‘I Can’t Breathe’ which is one of those songs that I think lyrically, anyone can relate to, but for me it was written about my health struggle.

I don’t actually tend to write much about my health, when it comes to songwriting it’s usually focused on my disastrous love life! But this one felt right... 

After a relaxed evening I headed to bed to watch the new episode of Girls :D (yes, sat here I genuinely feel like I am Lena Dunham and I am going to now become a writer! HAHAHAHAAH... funny ‘cos it’s true....oh dear) and then the next day we recorded the vocals down at the studio.

Man I love being there, surrounded by creative people all buzzing around working on various projects. I met some cool new people and got the song finished, so am sending it off for now for the pitch...wish us luck!!! Then it was time for a nap. Wonderful.

That evening we went for Chinese (yes you may notice a theme occurring here) and I had the best food of my life!!! Wol knows the owner well, and so he created a gluten free feast for me! OH MA DAYYYYYZ... I know this is so not interesting enough to have made my blog, but it really was that damn good!!

The next day was spent travelling home and then resting...actually the next two days after that were resting days too. I managed to do my 20 min walk on one of those days but not both. Trying not to beat myself up about that. And managed my 30 minute singing practise on both days but I felt AWFUL afterwards. Meh.

The reason I particularly needed to manage my daily walk and singing practise each day was because Saturday was gig day! Ah! 

The wedding was so beautiful!!!! If I ever get married.... I know... I have to find someone who wants to marry me first!!! Then if mine is half as pretty as this one was I’ll be happy! They even had a ‘rose wall’! :-0

I love wedding gigs so much, and feel so lucky to be making a living doing the thing I love most... but sometimes I do wonder if I’ve not exactly picked the best profession considering....

I’m so lucky to work with a band who understand, or at least try to understand all the M.E. stuff... I usually sleep in the car on the way there and back (well... I try to.....I kinda have to stay awake and keep my eyes on the road cos otherwise I think we will crash and die...yep...) And obvs I can’t do much (ok, any) of the lifting of the gear in and out of the venue, but they seem not to mind too much. Oh and I now have a new best friend..... THE GIGGING STOOL OF DOOM!! (not of doom. doom was just for effect) - I was reluctant at first but having my little friend on stage with me makes all the difference. 

If things aren’t toooo bad then I usually can’t help but be up on my feet, ‘dancing’ (I use the term loosely) and performing, especially when we are playing the upbeat numbers. Then I tend to perch on the stool for the jazzier numbers and click my fingers like it’s all part of the act! WERK IT BABY!

Also the adrenaline helps - when you’re there, singing in front of an audience of people, you do kinda have to just do it! And you can’t help but give it your all at the time! But oh the repercussions! Hence me typing this from bed right now with Chinese on the way... ok... can’t stop thinking about the crispy duck that’s gonna be in my bed with me oh so soon... that sounded weirder than intended... ok where was I.. yes... the next few days after a gig are always difficult, but I think that it’s worth it - I’ve been out and about, met new people, sang some songs - which I don’t know if I’ve mentioned but I really do enjoy! And I’ve earned that little bit of money to keep me going.

It makes me feel like a human bean.

And that brings me to being here.... a week on... a week stronger I feel! 

Next week looks relatively doable, a good mix of work and rest, but I am really looking forward to tomorrow - I have an appointment with the inventor of ‘The Lightning Process’ Phil Parker.

This is something I did maybe 8 years ago?? (total guess) and I found it really helpful at the time and genuinely thought played a huge part of getting me from the wheelchair to being up and about. It’s a really hard thing to explain (it’s a three day course so it would take me a whiiiiile to explain it!) but basically it’s neurolinguistic programming (NLP) and all about changing the way you think, releasing different chemicals, all that kinda thang. 

As the years went by I was getting stronger and being able to do a lot more, very slowly but surely. I ended up then not really using the process that much, if at all but then had the relapse of all relapses and have found myself getting desperate for help again. 

I’m at a weird stage now where I’ve just lost confidence in the process and don’t ‘believe’ in it like I used to... and there’s no point in doing it if you don’t truly think that it’s going to help you... like ‘The Script’ once said, ‘it’s like praying to a god that you don’t believe in’, right?

So... I am hoping to have my ‘Lightning Process’ faith restored tomorrow and will let you know what happens! I am so intrigued!!! 

So I just had a little break and devoured half a duck....to myself... oooops... now time for pudding!! I have the most amazing dairy and gluten free cornettos waiting for me in the freezer! noms :)

I hope you have a wonderful week! Please do get in touch if you happen to have read all of that balls :) 

Peas out xxx Until next week xx 

[mentaljourneytake2]

What feels like the end

This last week has truely felt like that. My whole world crumbled underneath me when he left. I’m alone with my two dogs, without them I don’t think I would be here. This has put me in the darkest place I have been for so many years. One thing I’m proud of is how I am reacting to the break up. Yes I’m angry it has happened and I’m disappointed in myself and him for not having made it work after so many years but I’m proud that we’re some what civil. I have the house and dogs, whilst he has moved out. He is being a typical male already having moved onto another girl or possible girls and that’s really killing me right now. I’m trying to tell myself that that’s how it is for males when this happens. That it doesn’t mean anything. I think it hurts more that the new girl is so pretty, beautiful body and just overall better than me. Again it’s nothing serious, I need to tell myself that or else it’s going to eat me alive. I have never had such bad anxiety and stress.

When I went through the worst time ever around Grade 9 or 10 I tried to kill myself. I remember the devastation on my parents faces when they found me. After that day I realised how much anger and sadness lived in me. I thought I had escaped that faze. But it just grew into another form. From what I remember as I have deleted everything I have from those years I think I went through what you’d call a happier time. But this then twisted into a health kick which twisted into bulimia and anorexia. I struggled with this for over 4 years. I have flashbacks now and sometimes relapse but I’m doing really well. But looking back I have never properly fixed my issues. After flunking school, struggling to breath and passing out in school hallways I decided that I really needed help. But instead I got help from another addictive and evil thing. When I first had weed I felt like the evil had finally left my mind, I’d get the munchies and that would be the only time I could eat without feeling like I was so worthless and needed to remove it instantly. I had been wanting that feeling for so long I stuck to it. Years on I left that friend that introduced me to it. I got healthier I felt like I had beaten both the addiction and disorder finally. But I hadn’t. It just grew into another form. I tell myself I don’t have an addictive personality anymore as I don’t smoke or drink all that much but in reality I work ridiculous hours and continue to push myself into breaking point as I never want to fail. I don’t want to be just another real estate agent. But that’s my addiction starting all over again. It makes me angry, it makes me stressed, anxious and so focused on just being better I started to hate it, hate myself.

This year I should’ve felt proud that I had accomplished so much, but I felt the opposite. Jump to now, my addiction to my work has made me loose my focus on my now ex partner. I kept telling myself this day would never come. And I beat myself up every day knowing I should have snapped out of it and fixed it so much earlier. My heart has been broken, twisted and fucking burned. I am older now and truely trying to keep it together. I have been honest to myself in knowing that I’ve let my anger and hatred grow back inside of me. I don’t want this but this little devil inside keeps saying I do. I know that feeling all too well. I spoke to someone yesterday. I didn’t think I had it in me. But I booked the doctor and finally pulled myself out of bed to go to the appointment before I could talk myself out of it. I was anxious, the doctor was frustrated but kept his cool when he asked why I hadn’t booked the right appointment. That mental health is a seperate booking. That killed me i nearly got up and left, I was so sorry and felt I made such a big mistake. As it wasn’t too busy he helped me. Filling out those forms in front of someone is so fucking confronting. Doing it privately without the feeling of someone reading it and judging you is so different.

He just gave this look to me like he knew how much I needed the help. I was angry at how he made me feel initially but I’m so grateful he did. When I left he looked at me and said he didn’t want to do the meeting as I had booked the wrong appointment but after looking properly at me he knew I needed it and that he was sorry and that he really wants to ensure I’m ok. I needed that.

Anyways today I’m at home. Feeling less sick to my mistake then I was yesterday. I guess this is a diary but for those to read and relate to. I might come back another time. But for now this has helped.

- Bec