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halothenthehorns · 1 year

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Chapter 4: THALIA TORCHES NEW ENGLAND

Thalia took the book from Rachel without batting an eye and used all of her immortal grace to grab just a few to many pages as subtly as possible, it would be no major difference to Percy she was sure if he just skipped this one part and arrived at camp without-

Rachel caught her before she could finish flipping the few innocent pieces of paper necessary, gently meeting her eyes and giving her wrist a reassuring squeeze.

How to explain? She couldn't be seen as weak in front of them. She was a Hunter of Artemis, she was Percy's closest friend in here and his guide on how to navigate this insanity. And Jason...

Whether that guy was the ghost of her baby brother back to haunt her or some deranged joke by the gods of a look-alike, he was as lost as Percy. She wanted to be the example for the two of them how to calmly get out of this, and she didn't think she could do that with this chapter.

She wished Annabeth were here, her little sister at least knew what she didn't want to share. Rachel just seemed to know she was afraid of something. Then Thalia glanced at Percy and Nico, both of whom were going through pretty much their most miserable time in this book. Her eyes lingered on Jason, the little two-year-old in her mind crying as his lip bled from that cut as she tried to stop it while their mom had been on the phone telling them to quiet down. The first thing Beryl Grace had said when she'd seen it was it might need cosmetic surgery to hide a scar.

She felt like she'd shared more than enough already, wasn't dying and coming back to a broken world enough? She didn't want to expose this fear too.

Percy leaned forward in his seat as she kept hesitating, he'd watched her try to skip those and wasn't going to say a word. "You want to get out of here Thals?" Eyes flickering to the door in clear invitation, just the two of them could leave. It really wasn't anybody else's concern, and at least if just Percy found out she wouldn't have to endure him mocking and laughing at her like the others would be prone to do. A child of Zeus afraid of heights, who wouldn't laugh?

It was the choice that made her decide to stay though. Like nobody had ever given her before on the course of her life.

If she'd just skipped over every awful thing that had happened to Percy thus far he'd have no clue what was going on in his own life. This wasn't the only time it would come up in hers, and if she started picking and choosing now what unpleasantness she wanted to skip, how would that be fair to Percy and Nico who hadn't once complained of their own pasts being revealed?

"No, I'm, I'm good," she lied. She was glad that Percy had moved away though, she might intentionally zap him when he figured it out. She could still do it across the room sitting next to Jason, but she might hesitate a little more.

She still had to give Rachel's hand a little shake to let go of her wrist, and her friend reluctantly did so with troubled eyes. 'Sorry,' she mouthed, but Thalia knew she was right too. Even being immortal now, keeping this kind of thing buried didn't mean it would never come back. Annabeth might have let her get away with skipping, but she would have protested later about the wisdom in that.

With a ragged breath, Thalia read, "Thalia Torches New England. Wow, it is kind of weird reading your own name."

"Know my pain!" Percy agreed triumphantly.

'You have no idea,' she silently agreed as she forced herself to start over Alex and Jason's spluttering, already laughing protests they wanted her to give a clue she would not be providing.

"When did this happen? Am I secretly dead?" Magnus asked. He'd notice his city on fire, even the Mist couldn't hide that. He was ignored right along with them though.

Artemis assured us that dawn was coming, but you could've fooled me. It was colder and darker and snowier than ever.

"You've never heard the saying the night's darkest just before the dawn?" Nico asked in surprise. Perfect time for shadow traveling.

"Must have missed that one in all the classes I got kicked out of," Percy clearly wasn't impressed regardless.

Up on the hill, Westover Hall's windows were completely lightless. I wondered if the teachers had even noticed the di Angelos and Dr. Thorn were missing yet. I didn't want to be around when they did. With my luck, the only name Mrs. Gottschalk would remember was "Percy Jackson," and then I'd be the subject of a nationwide manhunt... again.

"See, this is why you should have used fake name's Prissy," Alex oh so helpfully reminded.

"They still would have found a way to blame me," Percy said confidently. "The newspaper would have misspelled that into my name!"

"You might even get kicked out of a school before you even enrolled in it for once," Jason chuckled.

The Hunters broke camp as quickly as they'd set it up. I stood shivering in the snow (unlike the Hunters, who didn't seem to feel at all uncomfortable), and Artemis stared into the east like she was expecting something. Bianca sat off to one side, talking with Nico. I could tell from his gloomy face that she was explaining her decision to join the Hunt. I couldn't help thinking how selfish it was of her, abandoning her brother like that.

Nico's throat threatened to close shut and never open again as he heard that. Percy agreeing with him, on top of remembering the piss poor words his sister had used to try and explain how this was going to be great for both of them, some space, like he'd never asked for...

"Thanks Percy," he found himself saying, "I thought so too, but now I'm, I'm glad she did what made her happy." The words sounded more mechanical than if an automaton had pulled them out of him, but somewhere in him, he meant it. He was trying to at least.

"Yeah," Percy said softly, "sucks man." He felt while looking at Nico now he finally had an inkling of why the guy was so weird, just a little off. Had his sister dumped him at camp and not come back yet? There was still something he was definitely missing about the pair of them as he studied his olive complexion and dark eyes he couldn't connect a dot with.

Thalia and Grover came up and huddled around me, anxious to hear what had happened in my audience with the goddess.

When I told them, Grover turned pale. "The last time the Hunters visited camp, it didn't go well."

"Do they torch every place they go?" Magnus asked wearily. "Do you get tricked into joining them early and torch New England in retaliation?"

"Not even close," but Thalia was smiling lightly back, it did sound funny out of context and she wasn't looking forward to when it was corrected.

"How'd they even show up here?" I wondered. "I mean, they just appeared out of nowhere."

"And Bianca joined them," Thalia said, disgusted. "It's all Zoe's fault. That stuck-up, no good—"

"And I thought you hated me," Percy grinned uneasily. "Glad I never did whatever she put in your bonnet."

"That is not the saying," Will corrected.

Percy didn't hear what the saying actually was as he realized Thalia hadn't corrected him, instead studying the wall behind him very intently until she realized Will was done talking so she could keep going.

"Who can blame her?" Grover said. "Eternity with Artemis?" He heaved a big sigh.

Thalia rolled her eyes. "You satyrs. You're all in love with Artemis. Don't you get that she'll never love you back?"

"But she's so... into nature," Grover swooned.

"I really hope you're there when he meets Pan now," Jason chuckled. "If this is his reaction to meeting a goddess associated with nature, he might faint upon the God of the Wild."

Percy laughed along in agreement even as he winced, while Nico sat very far back in his seat with a pit in his stomach. Will did a double take upon seeing that look on his face, but Nico was already going through enough with his sister on display, he really didn't want to push him over what that was about.

In all the retellings of Grover's tale that day, nobody had mentioned Nico was there though.

"You're nuts," said Thalia.

"Nuts and berries," Grover said dreamily. "Yeah."

"Being proud of you who are," Alex nodded saintly.

Finally the sky began to lighten. Artemis muttered, "About time. He's so-o-o lazy during the winter."

"According to her he's lazy year around," Thalia happily pronounced, "the weather makes him different kinds of lazy."

"I think I found my spirit god," Percy shrugged as he rubbed at his eyes. They'd barely been at this for an hour, two tops today, and he was already getting drowsy again.

"You're, um, waiting for sunrise?" I asked.

"For my brother. Yes."

I didn't want to be rude. I mean, I knew the legends about Apollo—or sometimes Helios—driving a big sun chariot across the sky. But I also knew that the sun was really a star about a zillion miles away. I'd gotten used to some of the Greek myths being true, but still... I didn't see how Apollo could drive the sun.

"That's definitely got to be a metaphor or we're all going to die," Magnus said with confidence.

"I thought you were past the whole questioning the reality of all this phase?" Rachel smiled at his naivety.

"Never," he promised.

"It's not exactly as you think," Artemis said, like she was reading my mind.

"Oh, okay." I started to relax. "So, it's not like he'll be pulling up in a—"

There was a sudden burst of light on the horizon. A blast of warmth.

"Don't look," Artemis advised. "Not until he parks."

Parks?

I averted my eyes, and saw that the other kids were doing the same. The light and warmth intensified until my winter coat felt like it was melting off of me. Then suddenly the light died.

I looked. And I couldn't believe it. It was my car.

"Unless Beckendorf built you a Transformer, I don't think so," Will grinned, his smile weary but genuine as he kept mentioning the old head of cabin 9 with great effort not to wince.

"I'm pretty sure Chiron would ban you and the Stoll brothers from camp if you said that anywhere other than here," Thalia promised.

Well, the car I wanted, anyway. A red convertible Maserati Spyder.

"I don't speak car," Jason informed with a mystified expression.

"A red convertible," Nico repeated with a shrug, "looked fancy."

Percy looked devastated at the pair of them and promised, "I have got to introduce you two when we get out of this."

"Does it show everybody the car they'd want?" Magnus asked with an old smile, imagining he'd see his mom's beat-up truck with that dent in the hood.

"It shows the car Apollo wants," Thalia corrected.

It was so awesome it glowed. Then I realized it was glowing because the metal was hot. The snow had melted around the Maserati in a perfect circle, which explained why I was now standing on green grass and my shoes were wet.

"These books are going to melt my brain," Magnus promised. He missed science class. This was not a good substitute.

"Would it help at all if I said don't think about it to hard," Percy offered. "They, coexist?"

"No, but thanks for trying," Magnus answered, tapping his ears to make sure goo wasn't leaking out already.

The driver got out, smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy.

"You're not old enough to have an old enemy," Jason rolled his eyes. Apollo, like all of the strange Greek gods, seemed a lot more relaxed than he'd ever believe possible a god should be, but he kept telling himself he was getting used to it.

"He's your only enemy," Alex added, considering he worked directly under the ultimate enemy.

"You're about to make the list," Percy rolled his eyes, not indicating which one of them he meant.

This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy good looks. But it wasn't Luke. This guy was taller, with no scar on his face like Luke's. His smile was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt.

"Just what my dad needs, more compliments about him imprinted in these pages," Will chuckled.

"You look like him," Nico said absently, still internally shaking his head at his younger self. The second god had appeared in a matter of hours and he'd still just been smitten with Percy and now more angry and confused than he ever had in his life at his sister.

"Thank you!" Will beamed as he stretched out like a cat, though he was wearing flip-flops and an orange shirt, otherwise it was an eerie resemblance to that sunlit morning, he even looked like he was glowing for a second.

"Wow," Thalia muttered. "Apollo is hot."

"He's the sun god," I said.

"That's not what I meant."

"You are so clueless Percy," Thalia sighed, even now he was watching her like he thought her answer wasn't up to scratch.

"Little sister!" Apollo called. If his teeth were any whiter he could've blinded us without the sun car. "What's up? You never call. You never write. I was getting worried!"

"Can't they just pop in on each other whenever they want?" Jason chuckled.

"Oh they do," Thalia rolled her eyes, "Apollo is pretty terrible about it, he is this flamboyant about everything."

"I'm just imagining a god going missing now and Oceanus snapping his fingers to fix it," Magnus rolled his eyes.

"I can't even imagine what would trap a god away," Percy muttered with an uneasy wince.

"I can," Alex said with a dark, pleased look on her face Magnus was a little afraid to know the meaning behind.

Thalia quickly kept going, swallowing a lump in her throat as Percy brushed his hand through a few gray strands of hair.

Artemis sighed. "I'm fine, Apollo. And I am not your little sister."

"Hey, I was born first."

"We're twins! How many millennia do we have to argue—"

"Eternity," Will assured.

"So what's up?" he interrupted. "Got the girls with you, I see. You all need some tips on archery?"

Artemis grit her teeth.

A sentiment shared by her lieutenant, making the next sentence come out muffled and funny.

"I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take my companions to Camp Half-Blood."

"Sure, sis!" Then he raised his hands in a stop everything gesture. "I feel a haiku coming on."

The Hunters all groaned. Apparently they'd met Apollo before.

"Frequently," Thalia's smile was nostalgic, and a little sad. It wasn't so unusual to go weeks without seeing Artemis, but even before she'd been trapped down here and heard of Olympus closing it was going on longer than usual. Was it naïve of her to wish Poseidon had a book in that massive pile explaining all of this? She certainly had to wish for something good to come out of this torture she was about to endure herself through.

He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.

"Green grass breaks through snow.

Artemis pleads for my help.

I am so cool."

He grinned at us, waiting for applause.

"Nobody applauded by the way," Nico offered.

"That wasn't five syllables," Alex looked devastated. "A god can't keep count? Isn't he the god of music too?"

Will rubbed the back of his head and chose not to answer that.

"That last line was only four syllables," Artemis said.

Apollo frowned. "Was it?"

"Yes. What about I am so big-headed?"

"No, no, that's six syllables. Hmm." He started muttering to himself.

"I kind of like him," Magnus chuckled, apparently having decided his brain wasn't melting since the sun god didn't blow up the continent from his sister's light ribbing.

Zoe Nightshade turned to us. "Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever since he visited Japan. 'Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more poem that started with, There once was a goddess from Sparta—"

"That was the most pleasant sentence she'd yet said to us," Percy grinned.

"The enemy of the limerick is my friend," Thalia nodded along.

"I've got it!" Apollo announced. "I am so awesome. That's five syllables!" He bowed, looking very pleased with himself.

"Someone has to around there," Rachel smirked.

"I want all of this on record," Percy reminded, "when you were all freaking out about how I spoke to Ares."

"Apollo isn't Ares," Thalia scoffed, "he's chill to play along with, most of the time."

"If you're a girl, or one of his kids," Rachel reminded with a proud gesture at herself which only a few got; or his mortal oracle.

"I'm still hoping Percy doesn't press his luck by calling him something worse than big-headed," Jason muttered. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the casual way these Greek kids interacted with the gods.

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll."

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

Thalia gritted her teeth and talked herself out of getting seven arrows ready as someone muffled a snort. She didn't look up to see who.

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Wise words," Will said, but his smile was more sympathetic. "He gets all weepy every time about Daphne."

Percy gave him a blank look and assumed Will was talking about one of his siblings.

"Oh, right." Then he looked at me, and his eyes narrowed. "Percy Jackson?"

"Yeah. I mean... yes, sir."

It seemed weird calling a teenager "sir," but I'd learned to be careful with immortals. They tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up.

"See, that threat keeps being mentioned, but has yet to happen," Alex waved a hand around in disappointment.

"Are you hoping for a whole building, or a state?" Magnus asked indulgently.

"I'll settle for one person who annoys me," she shrugged.

Apollo studied me, but he didn't say anything, which I found a little creepy.

"Well!" he said at last. "We'd better load up, huh? Ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

"That was ominous," Alex said cheerfully.

"Your dad's the god of prophecy too, right?" Percy asked uneasily. "He's not as weird about that as he is with the poetry is he?"

Will helpfully didn't answer again by tugging on his ear and not looking at him. His dad had likely fixated on not just Percy in that moment, but maybe even scattered to the cosmos and back as he realized he was standing amongst the four children of the big three, more than had existed in decades, if not longer considering even before the pact they didn't congregate in the same place much. Perhaps Apollo had been trying to sense which of them was the child of the prophecy, or he'd had some internal sense about the Di Angelo kids or even Thalia's coming immortality in joining him as his half sister.

Or his dad could have been arguing with executives in Tennessee and gotten distracted for a moment. It really was no telling with him.

I looked at the Maserati, which would seat two people max. There were about twenty of us.

"Cool car," Nico said.

"Thanks, kid," Apollo said.

"But how will we all fit?"

"I was imagining him tying us to the bumper and was way to excited," Nico admitted, deciding if Percy wanted revenge for him laughing at that guinea pig moment he should get it over with now.

"I thought he'd tie us all to the hood instead like trophies," Percy instead agreed.

"Oh." Apollo seemed to notice the problem for the first time. "Well, yeah. I hate to change out of sports-car mode, but I suppose..."

He took out his car keys and beeped the security alarm button. Chirp, chirp.

For a moment, the car glowed brightly again. When the glare died, the Maserati had been replaced by one of those Turtle Top shuttle buses like we used for school basketball games.

"Does it shoot manhole covers out of the front?" Alex grinned. "Does it have giant nunchuck arms?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Percy was pleased to see everybody looked as confused as him about something for once.

"And I thought I had a bad childhood," she huffed without further explanation.

"Right," he said. "Everybody in."

Zoe ordered the Hunters to start loading. She picked up her camping pack, and Apollo said, "Here, sweetheart. Let me get that."

Zoe recoiled. Her eyes flashed murderously.

"Brother," Artemis chided. "You do not help my Hunters. You do not look at, talk to, or flirt with my Hunters. And you do not call them sweetheart."

"She has that speech down pat," Thalia got her last ditch moment to smile at something as she informed them.

Apollo spread his hands. "Sorry. I forgot.

"Be glad he's not the god of memory," Magnus muttered.

Hey, sis, where are you off to, anyway?"

"Hunting," Artemis said. "It's none of your business."

"I'll find out. I see all. Know all."

Artemis snorted. "Just drop them off, Apollo. And no messing around!"

"No, no! I never mess around."

Eight collective snorts circled the room this time, and Thalia's tense grip on the book finally eased just a bit.

Artemis rolled her eyes, then looked at us. "I will see you by winter solstice. Zoe, you are in charge of the Hunters. Do well. Do as I would do."

"Can she turn people into jackalopes?" Percy asked in concern.

"If so, it's not a power I've discovered yet," Thalia said tragically, but she at least got one last genuine laugh too.

Zoe straightened. "Yes, my lady."

Artemis knelt and touched the ground as if looking for tracks. When she rose, she looked troubled. "So much danger. The beast must be found."

She sprinted toward the woods and melted into the snow and shadows.

Apollo turned and grinned, jangling the car keys on his finger. "So," he said. "Who wants to drive?"

Alex's hand shot up like it was on fire, but the look on her face made all of them want to run screaming how soon she'd crash on purpose.

"Well that's already spoiled," Magnus reminded with that same way he always talked to her, like he'd be sitting in the passenger seat through the whole ride. "I'm sure you're not that bad of a driver Thalia, Apollo probably fixed New England," he finished cheerfully to her.

She didn't answer, eyes trained on the pages, the spine to close to her face. It was starting to worry them, they'd yet seen Thalia so unsettled.

The Hunters piled into the van. They all crammed into the back so they'd be as far away as possible from Apollo and the rest of us highly infectious males,

"That toxic masculinity crap is very contagious," Will said breezily.

"Makes you wonder what they were calling Thalia in their head," Jason said defensively.

"Nothing I cared about correcting," she shrugged. Some of the hunters were still old fashioned and thought her casual approach to boys insubordinate to the cause, but were still respectful of her position. It was a fine line she walked. Speaking of her sisters had kept the strain out of her voice for a moment, but Will grew concerned when it jumped right back.

Bianca sat with them, leaving her little brother to hang in the front with us, which seemed cold to me, but Nico didn't seem to mind.

"Seemed to," he repeated, but managed to keep his own ire off the grid much better. He'd sat apart from his sister in busses before, she was usually good at making friends while he kept himself entertained. It never seemed to last, she'd always drift back over to sit with him and make sure he wasn't getting car sick or ask if he needed the bathroom. She hadn't this time. He had kept telling himself maybe Bianca was right and this might be a good change, let him grow up just a little without his sister constantly nagging at him in front of Percy.

"This is so cool!" Nico said, jumping up and down in the driver's seat.

"Your feet couldn't even reach the pedals," Percy told him fondly.

"Apollo could have readjusted it if he wanted," Nico insisted, "he's just as prejudiced as his twin. He wanted to impress his half-sister!"

"Maybe I can talk him into letting me drive it, I'll sneak you in and he'll have no choice," Will offered.

"I'm game!" Percy fist-pumped the air as hard as Alex had, apparently not picking up on the fact Will had been looking at Nico when he answered.

Nico's dark eyes were dancing with just a hint of excitement too as he whispered, "road trip, right. Because we haven't been forced to spend enough time together."

"It's strange, I've yet seen a hint of a hellhound being sicked onto me for this dragging out," Will grinned.

"She's on her way," Nico vowed, knowing it wouldn't take much coaxing to at least sick Mrs. O'Leary on him when they got back. He was pretty sure Will wouldn't drown in her doggy drool.

"Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods. How come sometimes it's them and sometimes it's you and Artemis?"

"Downsizing," Apollo said. "The Romans started it.

Zzzzaaapp!

"Ouch!" Percy yelped, jumping away from Jason and rubbing his arm. "Dude! Nobody can complain I'm related to an electrical eel if you're going to shock me like that."

Nico's hair was standing on end too from sitting on his other side, but he quickly brushed it back down with an intrigued look at him, and then his forearm.

Rachel was studying him too with those eerie, too intelligent eyes that normally saw more than just the scar on his lip in the gloom.

"I what?" He hadn't taken his eyes off the book.

Percy sat back down beside him and made a few more jokes about the sea life starting to convert Jason, but Thalia was still jittery like she was sitting on an angler fish ready to snap and reading on distractedly before silence had fallen despite the fact she'd have liked the reprieve for a while longer.

They couldn't afford all those temple sacrifices, so they laid off Helios and Selene and folded their duties into our job descriptions. My sis got the moon. I got the sun. It was pretty annoying at first, but at least I got this cool car."

Jason's single minded focus on the book felt as unfulfilled as as popped balloon. Roman. The word battered around his brain disconnecting any smidge of rightness he'd thought he'd gotten used to.

For just a split second as the strange girl with black hair took a breath, he felt trapped between the Son of Neptune and Pluto. In a room full of enemies he'd have to escape.

Then Thalia kept reading, and Percy was still watching her with a clear feeling of nerves. He'd seemed ten times more on edge all day, with Annabeth now out of the foreseeable picture and his best friend in here as constantly on edge as him. It wasn't a problem he actually felt like he could help to fix, but it soothed away the building pressure in his skull he couldn't unravel.

"But how does it work?" Nico asked. "I thought the sun was a big fiery ball of gas!"

Apollo chuckled and ruffled Nico's hair. "That rumor probably got started because Artemis used to call me a big fiery ball of gas. Seriously, kid, it depends on whether you're talking astronomy or philosophy. You want to talk astronomy? Bah, what fun is that? You want to talk about how humans think about the sun? Ah, now that's more interesting. They've got a lot riding on the sun... er, so to speak.

"Pun, pun, pun," Will chuckled.

"I hate to ask, but your dad invented the dad joke, didn't he?" Nico sighed.

"He'll certainly claim he did," Will nodded.

It keeps them warm, grows their crops, powers engines, makes everything look, well, sunnier. This chariot is built out of human dreams about the sun, kid. It's as old as Western Civilization. Every day, it drives across the sky from east to west, lighting up all those puny little mortal lives. The chariot is a manifestation of the sun's power, the way mortals perceive it. Make sense?"

Nico shook his head. "No."

Rachel was smiling genially at the end and promised, "oh I'd love to go over this with you later then. My school actually has an interesting art program, and I did a construct take on Western Civilization over the eras and used cars to symbolize it."

Nico looked at her without response. He'd never had a direct conversation with her before, she was around camp more frequently than him but always hung around Percy or Chiron. "Um, that's not necessary, I'm good now."

He half expected her to be like Will and stubbornly insist he'd enjoy it, but she merely looked disappointed and let it go and he was surprised to feel guilty about that too.

"Well then, just think of it as a really powerful, really dangerous solar car."

"Can I drive?"

"No. Too young."

"Oo! Oo!" Grover raised his hand.

"Mm, no," Apollo said. "Too furry." He looked past me and focused on Thalia.

Alex at least got a good laugh out of Percy and Nico's exact same disappointed look, and could all to easily imagine Grover would be even more offended.

"Daughter of Zeus!" he said. "Lord of the sky. Perfect."

"Oh, no." Thalia shook her head. "No, thanks."

"C'mon," Apollo said. "How old are you?"

Thalia hesitated. "I don't know."

"And the number gets murkier every year," she murmured to herself. Being immortal now meant she wasn't to concerned with keeping track of it either.

It was sad, but true. She'd been turned into a tree when she was twelve, but that had been seven years ago. So she should be nineteen, if you went by years. But she still felt like she was twelve, and if you looked at her, she seemed somewhere in between. The best Chiron could figure, she had kept aging while in tree form, but much more slowly.

Magnus let out an uneasy whistle. "That can't be fun."

"It's," she didn't finish, she didn't have to. She was sitting tense in her seat, she wanted to bury this book. She just had to be reminded of all that right before the worst Drivers Ed test in the universe!

Apollo tapped his finger to his lips. "You're fifteen, almost sixteen."

"How do you know that?"

"Hey, I'm the god of prophecy. I know stuff. You'll turn sixteen in about a week."

"That's my birthday! December twenty-second."

"Which means you're old enough now to drive with a learner's permit!"

Thalia shifted her feet nervously. "Uh—"

"I know what you're going to say," Apollo said. "You don't deserve an honor like driving the sun chariot."

"That's not what I was going to say."

There were several things she'd like to say, most of them in Greek she was hissing now. Will shifted uneasily in his seat and wanted to go check on her, but Nico caught his arm and shook his head. He didn't know what was wrong, but he worried it was closer to Percy's headaches than something Will could diagnose.

"Don't sweat it! Maine to Long Island is a really short trip, and don't worry about what happened to the last kid I trained. You're Zeus's daughter. He's not going to blast you out of the sky."

"Um, should I be concerned!" Percy raised his hand with a lot of concern.

"This is a godly sanctioned trip?" But Rachel didn't sound all that convinced, and she was starting to feel terrible about encouraging Thalia to go through with this. She could feel a storm brewing in the air, and she was sitting next to the eye of it.

Apollo laughed good-naturedly. The rest of us didn't join him.

Thalia tried to protest, but Apollo was absolutely not going to take "no" for an answer.

"I'm going to blow a whistle in this guy's ear and see if he can hear anything again," Alex scowled.

"Err, maybe save that for plan B," Magnus muttered.

He hit a button on the dashboard, and a sign popped up along the top of the windshield. I had to read it backward (which, for a dyslexic, really isn't that different than reading forward). I was pretty sure it said WARNING: STUDENT DRIVER.

"Take it away!" Apollo told Thalia. "You're gonna be a natural!"

'A natural disaster,' Nico kept to himself as he rubbed at his abused rib cage.

I'll admit I was jealous.

"That's twice I've admitted that to you," Percy tried to coax a fun rise out of her like usual, "I'm getting worried, where's the boasting Thals?"

She didn't answer, her bow and arrows were flickering in and out of existence on her back like a hologram swirled in with the plankton floating off the floor now, migrating towards her.

I couldn't wait to start driving. A couple of times that fall, my mom had taken me out to Montauk when the beach road was empty, and she'd let me try out her Mazda. I mean, yeah, that was a Japanese compact, and this was the sun chariot, but how different could it be?

"Speed equals heat," Apollo advised. "So start slowly, and make sure you've got good altitude before you really open her up."

Thalia's voice cracked with stress, and an arc of lightning flickered over her fingers on the purple spine. She cleared her throat valiantly, and they'd all swear they felt thunder rumble on the ocean floor.

"Er, so, what do you think he named her?" Percy tried again. "Sunny?"

"I've never asked," Will admitted, his own hint of jealousy much more well covered than Percy's had been. He'd never actually been in his dads car and it had been a false promise to Nico anyways.

Thalia gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. She looked like she was going to be sick.

They needed that description since no one could see her face, and had guessed it without the proof.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she said shakily. "N-nothing is wrong."

"Thalia, you sure you don't want to step out of here?" Percy stood up wearily in concern.

"Nothing's wrong!" She repeated in the same convincing tone as she continued reading in. Percy forced himself to sit back down, feeling useless how to help her but ready to drown someone on the spot if anybody else bugged her.

She pulled back on the wheel. It tilted, and the bus lurched upward so fast I fell back and crashed against something soft.

"Ow" Grover said.

"Sorry."

"Slower!" Apollo said.

"Sorry!" Thalia said. "I've got it under control!"

I managed to get to my feet. Looking out the window, I saw a smoking ring of trees from the clearing where we'd taken off.

"Thalia," I said, "lighten up on the accelerator."

"I've got it, Percy," she said, gritting her teeth. But she kept it floored.

"Loosen up," I told her.

"I'm loose!" Thalia said. She was so stiff she looked like she was made out of plywood.

"That tree got its roots in you?" Magnus asked uneasily, his mind still on that fleece. Did she get sick when she left the ground?

She was still ignoring everybody, they could see tendons in her neck. It looked painful reading, and Rachel would swear she saw a bead of blood on the page like she'd bit her tongue before she'd violently flipped pages.

"We need to veer south for Long Island," Apollo said. "Hang a left."

Thalia jerked the wheel and again threw me into Grover, who yelped.

"The other left," Apollo suggested.

I made the mistake of looking out the window again. We were at airplane height now— so high the sky was starting to look black.

"That's one way to stop global warming," Alex said under her breath, but more because she felt like it would insult Thalia if they pretended everything wasn't okay. Even if she wasn't listening, the background words had to help a bit.

"Ah..." Apollo said, and I got the feeling he was forcing himself to sound calm. "A little lower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over."

Thalia tilted the wheel. Her face was chalk white, her forehead beaded with sweat.

Something was definitely wrong. I'd never seen her like this.

Nobody had before, except Luke. She could still vividly recall standing on that roof, the way the world had spun sickeningly- but it was Apollo trying to talk her through this stupid bus! She was fine, she was in control!

The bus pitched down and somebody screamed. Maybe it was me.

"I think Zoe was guilty actually," Nico muttered as he rubbed his ear, but it could have been Thalia, or himself. Maybe Grover could shriek that loud if his fur was in a twist too.

Now we were heading straight toward the Atlantic Ocean at a thousand miles an hour, the New England coastline off to our right. And it was getting hot in the bus.

Apollo had been thrown somewhere in the back of the bus, but he started climbing up the rows of seats.

"Take the wheel!" Grover begged him.

"No worries," Apollo said. He looked plenty worried. "She just has to learn to— WHOA!"

I saw what he was seeing. Down below us was a little snow-covered New England town. At least, it used to be snow-covered. As I watched, the snow melted off the trees and the roofs and the lawns. The white steeple on a church turned brown and started to smolder.

"Talk about divine intervention," Alex offered.

"I thought that was a comet," Magnus said in wonderment, it had all blinked in and out of existence so fast, he'd thought he'd imagined the heat before the snow surrounded them again. That mist was powerful stuff.

Little plumes of smoke, like birthday candles, were popping up all over the town. Trees and rooftops were catching fire.

"Pull up!" I yelled.

There was a wild light in Thalia's eyes. She yanked back on the wheel, and I held on this time. As we zoomed up, I could see through the back window that the fires in the town were being snuffed out by the sudden blast of cold.

"There!" Apollo pointed. "Long Island, dead ahead. Let's slow down, dear. 'Dead' is only an expression."

"Only if you use it wrong," Nico said softly, studying Thalia carefully. She didn't have a death aura, the opposite with her faint, immortal silver glow still around her, but power was crackling out from her in the same dangerous current Percy so often gave off. She was starting to sweat, and he couldn't decide if he should let Will go to check on her or duck in front of the guy if she went off.

Thalia was thundering toward the coastline of northern Long Island. There was Camp Half-Blood: the valley, the woods, the beach. I could see the dining pavilion and cabins and the amphitheater.

"I'm under control," Thalia muttered. "I'm under control."

We were only a few hundred yards away now.

"Brake," Apollo said.

"I can do this."

"BRAKE!"

Thalia slammed her foot on the brake, and the sun bus pitched forward at a forty-five degree angle, slamming into the Camp Half-Blood canoe lake with a huge FLOOOOOOSH!

"That explains that warning sign," Rachel popped the side of her head in relief. "I always wondered why the naiads told me they needed one for no bus parking in there."

Thalia still wouldn't look up.

Steam billowed up, sending several frightened naiads scrambling out of the water with halfwoven wicker baskets.

The bus bobbed to the surface, along with a couple of capsized, half-melted canoes.

"Well," said Apollo with a brave smile. "You were right, my dear. You had everything under control! Let's go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?"

"Define important?" Percy asked as he rubbed at his head to make sure it was still attached.

"If Dionysus hasn't killed them yet I like her chances," Nico shrugged.

"Oh shush, all of you," Jason jumped in as Thalia still had a strangle hold on the book and didn't even seem to realize she was done despite Rachel trying to tug it away. "We don't have to learn every detail of each other's lives, Thalia's entitled to whatever was bothering her to stay with her."

"We weren't teasing," Nico assured as he got up. "Awkward silence would be worse though, right Thalia?"

She was still taking calming breaths and fighting down shame just the memory of that had freaked her out so badly, but quickly waved Nico on so she wouldn't have to respond, practically throwing it into his chest. So Percy hadn't figured it out, his face as clueless and concerned as ever, but it was just a matter of time until they had to deal with that pig and Percy truly did remember, then the jokes would start. If nobody else got it sooner.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #BotL #Thalia Grace #rachel elizabeth dare #Jason Grace #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #Magnus Chase #alex fierro #fierrochase #HDYSG

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accio-lo-ki · 3 years

Text

You can also find me on ao3

percabeth:

we hide our emotions ; 1k | They were broken and being together wasn’t enough to fix them, but their bodies craved each other and there’s nothing they can do about it.

one ; 341 | The truth was when Percy met Rachel, his heart skipped a beat and proceeded to pound in his chest in a weird, hard-to-ignore way.

Earthshaker ; 726 | a heroes of olympus au based on the prompt, “what if hera had taken annabeth instead of percy?��

shake shack ; 597 | “So cheese is definitely a weakness of the children of Athena.”

in the morning ; 926 | Huffing a breath, Annabeth realized that she had forgotten just how hard it had been to wake Percy up, especially when they both haven’t slept as soundly and fully as they did last night since the summer, maybe. But she was the daughter of Athena. She could come up with a few…strategies.

i can breathe water ; 1.4k | In truth, he never should have drowned.

if i can’t get the things i want (just give me what i need) ; 8.5k | “Don’t even think about reaching for your gun,” she hisses lowly. “I’ll shoot before you can even blink.” // Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU

beware of frozen heart ; 2.4k | “You were going to share a single carrot with your reindeer,” she states more than asks, and he opens his mouth to reply but she cuts him off. “And you’re willing to split it into three for me?” // Frozen AU

All I know is a simple name (and everything has changed) ; 1.9k | Annabeth has a crush on the new lifeguard and Piper helps...sort of.

All of your street light eyes ; 13k | Percy and Annabeth are mates, and they haven't seen each other for 65 years. Twilight AU.

crush crush crush ; 4.9k | Claire is new, and she's crushing on Percy hard. Only, he's "unavailable." Whatever that means.

Mouthful of toothpaste (before I got to know you) ; 1.1k | A glimpse into Percy and Annabeth's mid-twenties featuring drunken karaoke sing offs, pride parades, and morning kisses. Not necessarily in that order.

Trade your heroes for ghosts ; 819 | He watches her crumple to the ground with a gasp, and Percy wants to tear the whole world apart. She survives, but something in his gut still tells him to do it.

Love the way (you decorate my heart) ; 970 | “Annabeth, I don’t think this,” he gestures to the space between them. “–can work between us. I can’t be with someone who hates Christmas. We’re simply incompatible.”

Kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor ; 2.6k | With the memory of their first dance playing on his mind, he reaches behind Annabeth to grab his phone. “Let’s do something.” Annabeth narrows her eyes at him for a moment, suspicious. “Something like what?” Percy waits a few seconds, feet tapping impatiently against the tiled floor of their kitchen. Finally, his phone connects with the bluetooth speaker Piper had given him for his last birthday, something expensive that Percy and Annabeth wouldn’t have even thought of buying if it had been up to them. “Something like dancing.”

If you’re looking for a saviour (that’s not me) ; 40k | Ten years after the end, Annabeth must find Percy to save the world again–this time, together. Magic AU. WIP.

Dancing with our hands tied ; 4.1k | Keeping a secret relationship is hard sometimes. OR a Popstar!Annabeth and Actor!Percy AU as told through Taylor Swift’s discography

Gorgeous ; 3.6k | The first meeting. OR a Popstar!Annabeth and Actor!Percy AU as told through Taylor Swift’s discography

Gold rush ; 4.1k | @FEARLESSCHASER on twitter says: oh my god i think i just found the loml in an annabeth chase concert???? (Attached: a tiktok video of a guy, brown skin, mid to late 20s, about 6 feet tall, taking off a black NY Yankees baseball cap and ruffling a hand through his hair, nodding along to the music. In the background, King Of My Heart by Annabeth Chase plays live.) OR A popstar!annabeth and actor!percy au as told through taylor swift's discography.

percabeth RPF

i guess we fell apart in the usual way ; 3.1k | They both paused, trying to breathe through unspeakable pain and hurt and this looming sense of loss. Finally, when she felt like she could, Alex spoke up. “We should end this, shouldn’t we?”

klaroline

i’ll meet you at the divide ; 2k | They have a few odd meetings over the years, helping each other out with minor problems, giving and taking little favors. Sometimes his touch lingers, when their arms brush against each other in the guise of friendly space and when they steal seconds of the eternity that they’re given. He teases her like no time has passed, she pushes back because does time really matter when he’s him and she’s her? She hears about his not-so-little problem, feels the same sharp burning in her scar, feels a painful tugging in her belly, and she goes to New Orleans.

a point where two worlds collide ; 1.8k | He remembers the pain that comes with remembering her. Maybe that is the reason he forgets.

i can feel you (sifting through my hands) ; 658 | He finds karma’s not as sweet as he’d like when it takes the people he loves from his clutched hands.

remember all the things we wanted (pt.1) ; 1.9k | He stands his ground, and Caroline flinches at the feel of his fingers tracing the bracelet on her left hand. “You’re still wearing it.”

now all our memories (they’re haunted) (pt. 2) ; 8k | He inhales sharply at her words, and then sighs heavily. “Where did we go wrong, love?” “We didn’t,” Caroline says with a slight shake of her head. “We just went in different directions, I guess.”

i’m not gonna write you a love song (cause you asked for it) ; 848 | Eight years in the business and his seven Grammy’s have finally taken toll on the rock star, making him unable to produce a song that’s not of mediocre quality for the past year. But everybody knows how the entertainment business works, and a decrease in his velocity to the top just might be the reason a new ‘Klaus Mikaelson’ finally takes over the limelight.Nevertheless, he asked for a vacation, not a bloody co-writer in the form of Caroline Forbes.

I won’t say (I’m in love) ; 3.7k | “Here’s the part where we bargain for the life of your dear Caroline,” Klaus declares, flicking his hand and making the blonde woman disappear from the room. Stefan gasps, calls out her name, looks around to no avail. // Hercules AU

summer summer ; 671 | “Do you have any idea who did this so I can report it to Jenna?” Caroline asks instead, and April stops crying long enough to point a finger to the direction of the culprits.On the opposite side of the camp gathered a group of about four boys and three girls all clad in white aprons splattered with paint, and in front of them stood the bane of her existence ever since she was twelve herself and first went to camp: Klaus Mikaelson.

restless soul, lie down ; 9.9k | When Caroline says his name, it’s with a hardened edge that makes him wince, and he sighs as he presses against the cool tile. There’s no helping him now. He tries to think of what to say, tries to string words that would cover the eventual hurt and the implication of his words, but in the end he settles for the simple truth: “I think I’m dying, love.”

i don’t love you (i always will) ; 3.8k | He hates her so much that he fills all of his sketchbooks with her face, the way her expression crumples up when she comes, the ‘o’ of her pink lips when he takes her breast into his mouth. He burns every single drawing the second he finishes creating them. It doesn’t make him hate her any less.

stalia

Anchor ; 1.2k | They weren’t together, not anymore, but Stiles was still the only person Malia has ever connected with. He was still the only person she had ever loved truly and deeply. Stiles was still her anchor.

I don’t even wanna know ; 298 | “Malia,” the sheriff started. Stiles mentally face-palmed, readying himself for what’s to come. “You do only use those chains so Stiles could tie you up during the full moon, right?”

I can’t make you love me (if you don’t) ; 2k | The two days leading up to Stiles’ and Malia’s break up

Vision ; 1.9k | “The vision–“ she blurted out, making him even more confused. “I just need to know. The vision– am I still part of it?”

handcuffs and other stuff ; 907 | My take on the spooning scene

jalec

for the first time, i had something to lose ; 998 | They say that the most painful thing a shadowhunter could feel is losing his parabatai.

just before you lose it all ; 1k | “Your boy is crying, you know? He’s begging me, begging me not to do this.”

put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch ; 3.8k | The three times Jace and Alec almost kissed and the one time they finally did.

all my senses come to life ; 1.8k | Jace didn’t bother to mask his shocked expression, didn’t bother to hide the flood of emotions that seemed to drown him. The concern, the shock, the confusion, and–he realized with great disgust–the relief.

all we know is touch and go ; 2.5k | Alec was pretty sure that if it weren’t for the runes they carefully placed all over Jace’s room, they’d have been caught a long time ago. // FWB AU

Poltergeist ; 1.9k | “Tall-blonde-tattooed-dude, I’m going to need your number. A ghost needs busting in my apartment.”

harmony

Things you said after a one night stand ; 2.3k | They stared at each other for a while, their laughter slowly dying and the cheers from their ‘audience’ growing faint. The matching grins on their faces were wearing off, replacing with a look of passion.

cedmione

Eternal Vigilance ; 1.8k | "What is it that he said? I reckon it's along the lines of 'constant vigilance' was it?"Cedric scoffed, dusting off his shoulders and leaning against the antique cabinet they had been cleaning in the attic of the headquarters. "Eternal vigilance more like, Granger."

trouble in the library ; 1.1k | “Yeah,” Cedric nodded. “You’re right. Maybe I do deserve someone else.” He started, and hearing him say the exact words made Hermione flinch and pin her eyes shut to try and will away her tears.

there’s a me without you, but that’s not where i belong ; 2.6k | Hermione Granger had loved magic until it took the one person she was in love with.

james potter / oc

Strange Benefits ; 47k | In which Milla Rosamund finds herself stuck in quite a compromising position beneath James Potter.

napollya

are we going down (or will we fly?) ; 2.3k | Sometimes–when Gaby leans her head onto Illya’s shoulders and instead of tensing up the way he usually reacts to physical contact, the Russian merely leans back–sometimes, Napoleon has to look away.

you’ve got my devotion (but man i can hate you sometimes) ; 1.8k | Despite knowing better, Illya wishes he would not get caught up in the complex and terrifying vortex that is Napoleon Solo.

love is a curse ; 10k | “Do you want to sneak into the kitchens and eat éclairs with me? I know you love those.” Napoleon suggests, and Illya never stood a chance, did he? // Hogwarts AU

I’ll hold you like I do love you ; 4.1k | “Don’t bring her here, Peril,” Napoleon tells him. His voice is quiet and they are ten feet apart, but Illya hears him loud and clear, like a drum beating right next to his ear. Napoleon’s voice is so quiet it deafens him. “Not here.” Illya exhales through his nose, the air hot against the coldness of the area, of the situation. It should not be like this, he thinks. It never should have gotten this far. But Napoleon is Napoleon, and Illya is a weak, weak man. So even if nothing in their situation is okay, he says this instead: “Okay, Cowboy.”

we’ll be a fine line ; 1.2k | Napoleon hates the idea of having to spend forever with someone he did not choose for himself. Illya is engaged. Napoleon and Illya are soulmates.

blesse

small sacrifices ; 610 | And Blaine gaping at him shouldn’t really look attractive but somehow he does and that wasn’t quite okay and yeah.

sleep in ; 772 | when they finally get their schedules to match and not be in a rush for once, Jesse would like to think that they would always take the opportunity to wake up with each other.

nighttime ; 1.1k | Blaine Anderson was on the brink of giving up and somehow it was Jesse St. James’ voice that made him change his mind.

socks and slips ; 687 | “We should totally sock-skate on this floor while we have the chance.”

The Art of Holding Hands ; 3.1k | They weren’t even official! They were friends at most. They haven’t even kissed, just held hands and that wouldn’t even have happened if Jesse hadn’t made up some shit about not wanting to lose Blaine in a huge crowd.

stevenat

Through the eyes of Tony Stark ; 544 | Tony Stark is many things and observant is one of them–or, Tony reveals what he suspects has been going on between Cap and Widow.

spideychelle / petermj

your hands are tough but they are where mine belong in ; 3.2k | Five times Peter Parker tries (and fails) to hold Mj's hand

how Mj confessed to the lamest loser in Queens (and how he said it back) ; 1.4k | “Listen up, nerd. I’m not repeating myself.”

loki and eros

A couple words, a great divide ; 3.2k | “Is that how you greet an old friend?” The voice comes from right beside him, making Loki stop in his tracks. “You’ve grown quite rude since the last time I saw you.”

charles and raven (platonic)

Verstehen ; 813 | “why didn’t you just read my mind?” “I promised I wouldn’t”// raven reminisces about the time she spent away from charles

quickphoenix

friends and more ; 3.2k | “I’m sorry, what? Did you just say that Wanda–my twin sister, Wanda–is out? With a friend?”

jonerys

fear is the weight we carry ; 2k | Jon and Dany have a follow-up conversation about Jon's true parentage and how it will affect their relationship.

polaroids ; 2.6k | Jon and Dany take polaroids and get tattoos basically.

jonerys RPF

take a break ; 4.8k | based on the prompt: “you sat next to me at the movie theatre and i really hated your movie but i didn’t realise you were in it”

Steve Harrington

And at once I knew (I was not magnificent) ; 5.5k | So he lost Nancy, and he lost college, and he lost the chance of ever amounting to anything beyond this small-town life, spending away his trust fund and waiting to get old; but he’ll be damned if Dustin and Lucas and Max and Will and Mike and El do too. OR Steve knows that he’s not, like, the smartest person in the party.

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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

Aerosmith

Alright, y'all: here's that fic that I'm low key scared no one is going to read that has taken me a few months to write, a Trent x single mom!reader fic

It's a long one, with the Bruin's feral little fighty boy from St. Louis, around 13.3k words. The songs listed as the headers of each section are all by Aerosmith, each part partially inspired by the song (hence the name of the fic)

Shoutout to @toplinetommy for helping me with this the entire time and being my beta AND to @chara-hugs for letting me bounce ideas off of you and talking through what I was thinking of. Love you lots 💛

I hope people like this

___________

Just Push Play

Considering how much was happening around you at the bar your friends had dragged you to, the only thing that could keep your attention was your phone. It was the only thing, at this point, that you would allow to keep your attention. You had no desire to be there. Part of you wanted your phone to start buzzing, anything that would give you an excuse for you to leave, but the other part of you knew that something bad had to happen in order for you to leave. Every second that you stayed was costing you more money and less time being where you wanted to be.

“Hey, Y/N, put the phone away. This is your first night out in, like, years,” Molly tells you.

“Four years. Maybe five?” you guess.

“Six years, exactly,” she wrongly says, earning a disappointed head shake from you, a small ‘no’ escaping your lips that goes ignored as she takes your hand that’s holding the phone. “Can we please just enjoy tonight and have some fun? He’s going to be fine.”

You take in a deep breath, almost sure she was right about that. You hadn’t had a night to yourself in years, and Molly was also almost right that this was your first one in over four years. Actually, given the timeline, it was probably more like five. “But what if something happens?” you ask, the natural worry and constant fear you felt taking over your ability to just enjoy the night.

“If something, anything happens, you’ll be able to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and I will go home with you to take care of it,” she reassures you, playing around with the settings on your phone. She hands it back to you, pulling you up from the table you had yet to move from in the first place. “He’s fine. He always is. Why don’t you request a song?”

“Because you keep telling me you hate my music.”

“Well, that’s because you have the same music taste as your sixty-something-year-old father when you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman.”

“You don’t even know how old I am? We’re the same age.” Molly rolls her eyes at you, dragging you up to the line of people to request songs, a book sitting there with the songs you could request. “They’re not going to have anything I like,” you tell her as the line behind you gets longer.

“Don’t you listen to that one guy?” she starts.

“That could mean anything. Have I told you lately that you are the most unhelpful person I know?” you snap at her, trying to find anything in your Spotify that you could request as the line got shorter and shorter in front of you. “What about this song?” you ask, your finger hovering over someone from one of your Daily Mixes. Molly looks over your shoulder at your phone, shaking her head at your song choice, and every song choice that you suggested. “I’m just going back to the table, you’re being impossible.”

Before she can protest, you turn around and head back to your table, sitting off to the side away from the rest of your friends, your eyes glued to your phone. At this point, you were praying that you would get a message from Rachel asking you to come home, telling you that something was wrong. Even something as simple as she had to leave unexpectedly so you could, too. Anything so that you could leave sooner rather than later.

“Sorry, but you really couldn’t find a song in that book?” you hear a guy's voice, tearing you away from the screen. He sits down next to you, not too close that it was uncomfortable but just close enough that you could smell his cologne, covering the smell of beer that had been lingering in the air around you. “There was some Aerosmith in there, I have a feeling that’s the closest to something you’d enjoy,” he says, smiling at you.

He must have been in the group that was in line behind you, hearing your conversation with Molly. Regardless, you smile back at him, something about his own being so infectious that you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Well, you’re right, but it depends on what Aerosmith song,” you respond, a hint of flirting in your voice.

“Is there a bad one?”

“No, but there are some superior ones,” you tell him, his eyebrow cocked as a sign to get you to explain. “Sweet Emotion is great but not as good as their cover of Come Together. Dream On and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing are easily, in my opinion, their best songs.”

“Is that up for debate?”

“Oh, you think their most popular songs aren’t their best?”

“I think the one that’s about to play is one of their best,” the guy says, both of you pausing as there’s a lull in the music, the chatter and screaming of the bar’s drunk patrons overtaking everything.

“Just Push Play?” you ask, a smile on your face. It wasn’t one of their most well-known songs, but you still had to admit it was an underrated one.

The boy shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I might have requested it so you’ll have a reason to dance with me,” he flirts, getting up and extending his hand for you to join him.

You hesitate, unsure if you should get up with this mystery man standing in front of you. There was something about him that you couldn’t figure out. He looked young, probably younger than you but looks can be deceiving, nevertheless telling you that there was some sort of innocence or naivety to him, but the obviously fit physique under his clothing telling you that he could and would break your heart in a moment if he had to, the time leading up to that would be like nothing you had experienced before. You didn’t have time or the energy to spend on something you knew would lead to heartbreak, but you felt like you wanted to, like you had to. “I’m not sure I can dance with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

“I’m Trent,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you away from the table. You introduce yourself as his hands snake their way around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel his heart starting to race against your own chest as your hands met the skin at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing along the collar of the back of his shirt, the two of you not moving at all in sync with the faster beat of the song. Not that you cared. There was something about this boy you were talking to talk to over the music that made you completely disregard the movement around you, forgetting about your phone and what was waiting for you at home for the first time in nearly five years.

You danced for what felt like forever, for what you wanted to last forever, every song passing you by as he listed out song after song that he recognized, most of them country as he claimed he had a country playlist that went on for seven hours, all of them involving him trying to sing bits and pieces of the lyrics off-key, every time pulling a laugh from you.

“I don’t know what I like more,” he starts, resting his forehead against yours as the space between the two of you disappeared, “the music they’re playing or your laugh.”

You roll your eyes, a smile on your face as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Those lines usually don’t work on me.”

“But?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours.

“But from you, they do,” you tell him, planting your lips on his before he has the chance to say anything else. You didn’t know what it was about Trent; you were never the one to make the first move, you barely interacted with guys at this point since your life was permanently hectic. But Trent was something else. You don’t know what Trent was, you just knew he was different.

His hands were on your back, finding their way to your waist, his grip tightening when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You pull away, a pout on Trent’s face as you turn around to see Molly, waving your phone in your face. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh, shoot!” you squeal, taking your phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get home.”

A confused look covers Trent’s face. “Is your Uber going to turn into a pumpkin if you aren’t home, Cinderella?”

You laugh at his joke, going back to your table to grab your stuff. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “But I really have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.”

You stop in your tracks as you were rushing out the door. You never brought a guy anywhere near your apartment, knowing that most of them would want to go in, most of them would want to sleep with you if you invited them, most of them would be gone by morning when they found out why you didn’t want them there in the first place. You don’t know why you knew Trent would be different. “No, you don’t have to,” you tell him, instead, even though you wish you could bring him home with you.

Before he can answer, someone calls out his name, pulling the two of you away from each other’s attention. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Trent looks between you and his friend, the group of guys aggregating around him as they wait for his answer.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, trying to get out the door because you had to.

“Jack, give me a minute,” Trent calls to his friends, “I want to,” he tells you, taking your arm, turning you towards him. The look in his eyes was sincere, begging you to let him walk you home. “Please?”

You let out a sigh, caving in even though you knew you shouldn’t. “Fine, yeah. Let’s go,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar, his friends left without an answer as they watched the two of you walk away.

Come Together

“I’ve had a really great night. Sorry about my friends, though” Trent apologizes to you again. He explained that he had gone out with them after their game that night, supposed to be spending their off-day tomorrow together, but Trent leaving with you had seemingly changed those plans. As the two of you walked and talked on the way back, his hand never left yours, from the time you left the bar to now standing outside your door. He pulls you in for another kiss, the worries of what was on the other side of the door melting away. You wanted to invite him in, but you weren’t sure if he would even want to once he found out.

Your door opens, Rachel stepping out. “Sorry, it’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you tell her, Trent confused by the girl sneaking out of your apartment. “That was Rachel. She’s my babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

You could feel your face twisting involuntarily at his question. You knew you should have told him before you got home, it would have been easier leaving him at the bar than watching him walk away from you outside your door. Why did you even let him walk you home in the first place? Because he’s hot and you’re dumb, that’s why. “I have a four-year-old son. If you wanted to leave, I would understand. Most guys do when I tell them about Ben,” you spit out, not making eye contact with him. You weren’t ashamed of your son, you just knew people your age got weirded out and panicked at the thought of the responsibility that came with having a child.

He tilts your head up, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips, a lazy smile on his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says, kissing you yet again. You bring him inside, showing him Ben’s room first. The two of you stand in the doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean against the door frame. You feel him kiss the back of your head as you watch Ben wriggle in his sheets before settling down, you taking Trent’s hand and leading him down to your room. You tell him that you don’t want to do anything because of Ben being so close, Trent giving you a sweet smile, kissing you before settling next to you in bed. You had no idea why, but it all felt so domestic, so right that he was there with you in that moment.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice pierces the silence that had fallen between you.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you mention Ben before?”

You swallow hard. You weren’t ashamed of having Ben, something you found yourself repeating in your mind every time you told a guy about your son. He was the best part of your life. Everything you did was for him. “We’re young. Being a single mom at our age has such a stigma around it. When guys find out, they normally bolt. I didn’t want you to until the last possible second.” You turn to him, still able to make out his features in the dark, the pout that was forming on his face visible without anything lighting him up.

“You could have told me before we got here,” he says, pain in his voice as he reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. “I don’t care if you have a kid. I mean, I do, Ben is part of who you are. But, I would have understood. I understand. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling someone about that part of you. What I know about you so far is pretty amazing, I can only imagine what Ben brings to the table.”

“That seems weirdly out of character for what I know about you,” you tease him, pulling a smile from him.

“Well, maybe, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, right?”

You kiss him, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. The two of you spend the rest of the night telling each other about yourselves, keeping quiet for Ben, despite the amount of laughter you let you. You couldn’t remember the last time a guy made you feel so happy, falling asleep with a smile on your face, his arms wrapped around your waist as if that’s where they belonged.

You wake up the next morning, the sun shining into your room, but no Trent. You get out of bed, probably figuring that he had left in the middle of the night, trying to spare your feelings about you having a son. You understood. What guy really wants to get into a relationship with a single mom at this age?

You go to check on Ben, opening the door to his bedroom to find that he wasn’t in his room. You started to panic at the sight of his empty bed, unmade with his blankets in disarray. If Trent was gone, and Ben was gone, where could they be? He wouldn’t kidnap your son, would he? He was a professional athlete, that’s not something he would do, right? Your panic starts to recede when you hear laughter coming from the kitchen.

Trent is standing at the stove, spatula in hand with eggs cooking on the stove, a piece of bread held up to his face with holes bitten out of it where his eyes are, making Ben shriek with laughter. “Sorry. I heard him get up and I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast. Is that ok?”

You can’t help but smile, going over to Ben. “How’s he doing so far?”

“Mommy, look! French toast!” Ben says, pointing excitedly to the cut-up pieces of bread on his plate.

“French toast?” you repeat, your eyes wide to play along with his excitement. “Give me a bite,” you tell him, opening your mouth as he picks up a piece with his fingers, nearly missing your mouth. You hear Trent laugh, you not containing your own.

You go over to Trent, leaning into him as the two of you watch Ben eat the food Trent made. You feel him kiss the top of your head, his fingers dancing up and down along your arm. You look at his hand, a bandaid on the back of his hand. “What happened to you here?”

“Oh, oops,” he says, looking at his hand. “Got a little cut, but don’t worry, it’s not bad. Dr. Ben here fixed me right up,” he tells you, going over to Ben and ruffling his hair.

Trent hands you a plate of french toast and eggs, pouring you a cup of coffee, kissing you in front of Ben, who either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. No guy had ever stayed the night, let alone stayed and made breakfast for the two of you the next morning.

“So, what were you two talking about before I joined?” you ask, taking another bite of the French Toast. You already knew it was good from what Ben gave you, but you were still devouring it.

“Bears, boots, and battles of galaxias,” Ben lets out, his full mouth spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of that all morning. I have no idea what he means. Why does that sound familiar?” Trent asks, sitting down next to you, his hand on your thigh under the table, sending a chill through your entire body as his fingers lazily traced an unknown pattern on your skin.

You take a sip of the coffee he had handed you, setting down your cup and putting your hand on top of his under the table. “He saw that one part of the Office, the identity theft cold opening, where Jim says, ‘Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica?’ That’s how he remembered it,” you explain, Trent looking over to your son who was fixated on the food in front of him.

“Benny,” Trent calls him, your entire body going numb hearing him call him the same nickname you used for your son, “do you like bears?”

“Bears are the coolest!” he squeals. Everything he saw with a bear on it, he would start begging you to buy him, your heart breaking from the look on his face when you had to tell him no, we don’t need the kitchen towel just because it has a bear on it.

“Can you do your best bear impression for Mom and I?” You felt your heart skip at the sound of Trent calling referring to you as just ‘Mom’ instead of ‘your mom,’ like he was already part of the family. You didn’t even hear Ben growling, his best attempt at being the ‘scary’ Baby Bear that he was just laughing along with Trent.

“Hey, buddy, what if I called you Benny Bear from now on? Do you like that?” Trent asks, Ben nodding excitedly at his nickname.

“You’re nice,” Ben says to Trent while he clears his plate, Ben running off to go play.

You look at Trent, not able to help how you were beaming at him getting along so well with your son. It was like he belonged there with you, and with Ben, making his presence that much better. “That means he likes you.”

“Not trying to pry,” Trent starts, standing beside you at the sink while you wash the dishes, “But how often does he like the guys you bring home?”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “I almost never bring guys home. And when I do, he generally doesn’t talk to them.”

“So he likes me,” he starts, getting closer to you as you nod your head. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the sink. “How about you?”

“That depends,” you flirt, stretching to turn the sink off before draping your arm on his shoulders, twirling his hair through your fingers at the nape of his neck, “do you like me?”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you in for a kiss. “I do.”

“I like you, too. Help me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go watch Ben, ok?”

The two of you wash dishes in silence, weirdly domestic and comfortable considering you knew this boy all of twelve hours. “Can I ask you something?” Trent breaks the silence, just as he did the night before.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Ben’s dad?” You take in a deep breath, knowing that this would have come up eventually. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he continues, a wash of panic over his face at the thought of asking something too personal too soon.

You shake your head, smiling at him to try to calm him down. “No, no, that’s fine. Um, we were together when we were in college, but we broke up. I started feeling like shit so I went to the doctor and she told me, ‘Congrats! You’re two months pregnant!’”

“Does he know about Ben?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. I told him when I found out because I knew Ben was his. I told him that I was going to keep the baby and since we weren’t together anymore, he had the choice of either being present and helping out or if he didn’t want the responsibility, then that was fine, too.”

He didn’t know what about the way you were talking was making him feel this way. A lump in his throat was forming looking at your eyes start to shine with the threat of tears while you refused to make eye contact with him. You rarely talked about Ben’s father, making the decision a long time ago that he wasn’t worth your time thinking about since he didn’t want much to do with his own son. “And he didn’t?”

“He sends a present to Ben on his birthdays and Christmas, but other than that nothing really. I’m not even sure if Ben’s made the connection between the presents and his father yet. Like I said, though, I gave him the choice.”

“Do you regret anything?”

“I could never regret Ben or anything with him. I almost regret giving his father the choice, though. Being a parent isn’t easy, even if you have someone to take up half the work, but it’s even harder when it’s just you by yourself, you know? And I’ve gotten help, but it would be different if Ben had his dad as a constant in his life. Ben’s only seen him a few times, anyway. He calls him Andy instead of dad, and it’s just,” you stop, trying to find the word, “heartbreaking seems too severe, seeing him not acknowledge his dad as his dad, but what can you do?”

Trent didn’t know what to say. He was practically still a child himself when you really look at him. He couldn’t imagine having his own at this point in his life, let alone raising one on his own. “I’m sorry,” is all he can get out, trying not to cry even though he could hear Ben’s laughter ringing from the other room, sending a weird sense of joy through him at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather do this alone than do this with someone who didn’t want Ben to begin with. You can’t be a parent if you aren’t all in.”

He had no idea why, but he already felt so connected to Ben. There was no reason why, but he did. “I’m in.”

You turn back to him, shocked, confused, not even sure if you heard what he said properly. “What?”

“I’m in with you. With Ben. If you’ll let me. I want to see you again, keep seeing you. And that includes Ben. He already likes me, after all.” Trent was used to making snap decisions, on the ice, off the ice, wherever. He knew this was one, but this one felt like his best one.

“You don’t have to, you have your own life with hockey and everything,” you try to insist, cut off by Trent’s lips connecting with yours.

“I want to. Let’s go play with Ben.”

Angel

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask him for what was probably the millionth time, getting out of his car in front of the rink.

He runs around to get Ben out of his car seat, you grabbing the stuff he had stashed in the trunk. “Yes, I promise it is. The guys bring their kids all the time and they’re way younger than Ben.” He had invited you and Ben to the family skate the team was having, you reluctant to go since Ben had never been skating before. Naturally, you were worried he would get hurt, either by falling down or being curious about the skate and somehow cutting himself, something you were sure he would do if given the chance.

You two had been together for about a month, Ben falling head over heels for Trent, jumping up and down whenever he saw him on TV. Much to your dismay, Ben loved it when Trent was fighting, begging you to let him play hockey so he could fight just like Trent. You loved taking videos of his excitement despite that fear of him skating and fighting like Trent, sending them to him to see during the game, Trent always making sure to FaceTime you the next afternoon when you got home from work if you two couldn’t meet up so that he could talk to Ben. He was acting like the dad Ben never had.

And that was terrifying to you. The thought of you and Trent breaking up and him suddenly leaving Ben’s life was the reason why you never got close with a guy before. You didn’t want Ben to go through that. You didn’t want to go through that.

But there you were, sitting rinkside at the Garden as you tried to tie up the skates that Trent got for Ben, his feet swinging back and forth in excitement no matter how much you tried to get him to stop for a moment.

“Are you excited, Benny Bear?” Trent asks, picking him up and walking out to the ice.

“Yeah!” he says, squirming around and clearly ready to go.

You weren’t sure if you were more nervous about Ben being on the ice for the first time, Trent already showing him how to skate, or you formally meeting all his teammates for the first time, that night at the bar not really counting. The three of you step onto the ice, Ben in between you two, practically swinging in the air as you both held his hands while you skate.

“You’re nervous?” Trent asks, reading the expression on your face.

“They look like they didn’t know about Ben.” You saw the looks you were getting from the guys' families as you and Trent were skating around with Ben between you. You knew they were looks of confusion, but you couldn't help but think that they were the same looks when you went out with Ben in general, the societal disapproval of being a young mother, no ring on that finger to show that this was planned with another parent on the other side. People were judgemental; it was in their nature, but you were hoping Trent’s teammates were accepting like Trent had been.

“Um, I guess I didn’t tell them? I didn’t think I needed to,” he says, looking down at your son. Ben was beaming, not paying attention to what you two were talking about, not that he would probably understand it if he was. Trent didn’t think it would be a big deal to have your son around. The guys knew he was seeing you, but was it really that big a deal that you have Ben? He looks over at you, the scared look that was on your face worrying him. “We can just tell him he’s your nephew or your little brother?” he whispers so Ben doesn’t hear.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want them to know he’s your son?”

You stop skating, pulling Trent over to the side while holding onto Ben’s hand as he begs to pull away and take a lap on his own, something you weren’t going to let him do. “I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben,” you hiss at him.

“I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying if you’re scared of what people would think we could just tell them something else.”

You look at him for a moment, trying to properly process his words. “Am I scared of what people think, or are you?”

He steps back, careful not to fall on whoever's kid was zooming past him at that moment, Ben begging to go skate with him. “Hey, Zach,” he calls Patrice’s son over. “If he takes Ben is that ok?”

You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but you didn’t need Ben hearing this conversation, no matter how oblivious he might have been to begin with. “If you trust him, fine.”

“Zach,” Trent starts, crouching down to their level, his hands on Ben’s shoulders so he can’t skate away before he’s done, “Can you take care of my guy Ben here? Make sure he doesn’t fall? Go skate to your dad.” Zach and Ben practically rush off with each other to Zach’s dad, eager to skate around and surprisingly good for their age. “What do you mean I’m scared?”

“Who’s the one suggesting that we don’t tell your teammates that Ben is my son? We’ve been out together when people ask if he’s my brother, my nephew, if I’m his nanny, and every single time you’ve seen me correct them. I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben. And to come here and have everyone giving us looks because they’re trying to figure out who he is to you makes it seem like you are. You couldn’t even tell the guys you claim are like your family about Ben. He’s not old enough for that hurt, but I am.”

He looks down at the ice, shuffling back and forth on his skates. “I’m sorry.”

You move closer to him, tempted to reach out and hold him. He looked just as hurt as you felt, part of you glad that he was actually showing he was sympathetic instead of just saying it. “Are you ashamed of Ben?”

His head snaps to you, a look of disbelief on his face. He starts shaking his head, the curls on his head that were loose enough going wild with his movement. “I’m crazy about that kid. I know why you aren’t ashamed of him because I don’t think I could ever be.” Trent turns around to find Ben on the ice, skating around with the other kids, some of the guys playing a small game with them, Ben with his own little stick. He watches Ben score on whoever was playing goalie, Ben shrieking with joy. Trent couldn’t help but smile, turning to you. “He means more to me than I thought someone else's child could.”

“Then why didn’t you tell them about Ben?” you ask him.

He shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip. “Because I’m dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close to you. “Well, I do call you a stupid muppet,” you joke, earning a groan from him, “Hey, I say it with affection and you did say I could call you that.”

He cups your face and kisses you, momentarily forgetting his teammates and their families around you. “We could go tell them now?” he suggests, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you want to?”

Trent starts skating over to the rest of the guys, Ben giggling and playing with the rest of the kids. The two of you start talking to his teammates, introducing yourself to Jack and Jeremy, keeping your eye on Ben while he plays as you wait for Trent to finally say something about him.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben’s voice tears you two away from the conversation. “I’m you!” he yells, using the stick to try to shoot the puck, instead missing the puck and falling down on the ice. He was trying to process what just happened, hopefully not meaning to do what he did.

You look at Trent’s face, his teammates laughing while his face turned red. Ben shoots back up and starts skating again, Trent beaming at him. “That was cold,” he says to you, a smile on his face anyway.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” you tell him, squeezing his bicep before skating over to your son. You lift him up off the ice, thankful that he was still small enough to do that as you kiss his cheek and skate around with just him for a bit.

Trent couldn’t take his eyes off you, his teammates doing everything they could to try to peel his attention away from you. He watched you interact with Ben, the same light in your eyes when he looked at your son.

“Dude?” Jack finally succeeds in bringing Trent back down to Earth, “is that her brother?”

Trent shakes his head, turning back to you. “Nope, that’s her son.”

“Son? What are you thinking?” Jack asked. He knew what he meant. Trent was young. You were young. Having a kid was something real adults did, not whatever definition of adult he fell under.

Trent shrugs, watching you and Ben laugh and smile as you skated around, talking with some of the guys' girlfriends as they coo over Ben. “I’ve been better since I started seeing her.”

“You were fine before you started seeing her,” one of them mumbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to them. “Come on. I was fine but I wasn’t great. All I did was punch a few guys and get a couple of secondary assists. Even Butch said something about my play last game. Everything in my life is better with Y/N in it. And Ben.”

He didn’t hear what the guys were saying, and honestly, he didn’t care either. He loved your son, probably not as much as you did, but he felt like he was getting there. He wanted to get there.

Because he loved you.

Dream On

“Where are you?” Molly's voice comes through your phone, panicked and irritated. “I thought you were coming in today?”

“What are you talking about? Today’s my day off.” You were at home, sitting on the couch with the tv playing in the background while Ben played with his toys in front of you. It was one of the rare days that you could spend from the time you woke up until you went to sleep with your son, and you had no real intention of changing those plans, which is what it sounded like Molly was going to ask you to do.

“Well, you know that funding we secured for that new project?”

“Yeah?” you say, Ben coming up to you, trying to show you something. “Hold on, Benny. What’s going on, Mol?”

“They’re getting cold feet.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, we need you here. You and DeAndre were the ones who got them in the first place, and he’s already here. Please?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to figure out if anyone is free to watch Ben. You couldn’t bring him in and have him running around the office while you were trying to convince a major investor to give you the money promised. “I have to find a babysitter but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you sigh, wracking your brain as to who would be free. Rachel couldn’t typically do weekends, but maybe she could if you promised to pay her extra? But then there was the issue of: did you have the money to pay her extra?

You start scrolling through your contacts, trying to figure out if anyone in there would be able to watch your son, running into your room to get changed to look at least a little presentable.

Trent’s name pops up, calling you with what you hoped would be somewhat perfect timing. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you answer, your phone on your bed as you try to find something to wear.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m changing for work and my phone is on my bed, so the ceiling.”

“I thought it was your day off?” he asks as you throw what seemed to be the only clean work shirt that you could find. You knew you were forgetting to do something today, now you realized it was laundry.

“Molly called saying that I need to go in and now I have to find someone to watch Ben or else I’m going to have to bring him in with me, which doesn’t seem like a good idea. And most of my friends are from work or have their own lives and can’t watch him, Rachel can’t do weekends, but I guess I could ask her if she has any friends who could watch him last minute.”

“Y/N.”

“But then I have to pay them and since it’s so last minute I would need to give them more money, right?”

“Y/N.”

“I guess I could, but I think I would also have to pay for meals, and then I have no idea what time I’m going to get home, and whenever that is I’m going to have to do laundry, and-”

“Hey. Earth to Y/N. I can watch him,” Trent finally cuts you off long enough to get a word in.

You were hesitant; Trent had never been left alone with Ben, and probably never left alone with a four-year-old ever by your assumptions. “No, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you tell him, picking up your phone to see him.

“I’m serious! You just said you need a babysitter, I was going to ask if I could come over and see you before the road trip, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip. Did you trust Trent enough to let him watch and take care of Ben? If you could trust Rachel, a girl who still had a curfew and couldn’t even drive her friends in the same car as her, why couldn’t you trust your boyfriend?

“Of course!” he says, clearly getting up and walking around what you think was his apartment. “I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hangs up and leaves you to finish getting ready, hurrying through trying to make yourself look presentable and finding the stuff that you needed. You couldn’t find your work bag, or your computer, mentally cursing yourself for the one time you didn’t leave it in your closet like you normally did.

“Hey, Benny? Have you seen Mommy’s computer and bag?” you go into your living room to where you left Ben. He shakes his head, his overall attention not leaving whichever toy he was fixated on. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, trying to find it. “Ben, how about you and I play a game?” you ask him, getting down in front of him. “If you can help me find my blue bag and my computer, someone really special will come over tonight!”

Ben gets up and starts looking for you, hoping that you can find it before Trent actually gets to your place. “Mommy! I found it!” Ben comes running to you, your bag nearly as big as him as he struggles to carry it to you.

You take it from him, kissing his head as he goes running off, a knock at your door just in time. Opening it, you see Trent on the other side, a bag in his hand. Kissing him hello, you tell him, “I owe you big time.”

“We can discuss payment when you get home. And I have some ideas as to how you could pay me,” he says, bringing you in for a kiss.

“Trent!” Ben runs over, interrupting.

Trent practically launches himself off you, picking up Ben and hugging him while your son’s laughter and happiness fill your home. “Benny Bear!” He gives Ben the bag, telling him to open it.

“A bear!” Ben jumps up and down with the small stuffed animal that Trent had gotten him.

“What does a bear say?” Trent asks, both of them going, “grrrrr,” with their hands curled like claws, their faces scrunched. You felt yourself melting at the sight of Trent getting along so well with Ben, your son running around in circles with his new toy that he would probably say is his favorite since it came from Trent.

“Did you buy him a Benny Bear?” you gush, bringing him in for a hug.

“I saw it when I was on the road and had to get it for the little guy.”

“You love him,” you tell him, not needing to ask since you already knew what his answer would be if you did.

“Of course. But you have to get to work,” he tells you, pushing you off him.

“I’ll pay you for whatever you get for dinner, order what you want, within reason for him.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, and I’ll make sure to get him lots of candy,” he jokes, earning a look from you. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Go, go to work. I’ve got this.”

“If you need anything call me, or even one of the guys who have kids. If you trust them, I’ll trust them.” You kiss him again, yell goodbye to your son and remind him to behave for Trent. You were nervous about leaving Ben alone with him, but if you wanted to be serious about this guy, you had to do it at some point, right?

You close the door, leaving Ben and Trent alone on the other side as you try to think about how you and DeAndre can now keep your investors from pulling money, practically running down the hall so that you can get to your car.

Trent turns around, Ben already sitting back down on the floor and playing away with his toys. He had no idea how to watch a four-year-old. He takes in a deep breath, sitting on the ground with Ben, his back leaning up against your couch. “Alright, Benny, what do you want to do?”

Ben hands Trent a toy, starting to ramble on about whatever magical world he’s conjured up that Trent was no part of. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to follow along with your son’s imagination as best as he could.

Trent didn’t know how you did it. Ben was a ball of energy all the time, and at home seemed to be no exception. Trent was chasing him around as they played ‘Bear catcher,’ which Trent wasn’t really sure the rules of in the first place, just following around your four-year-old through your apartment while he sprinted, jumped, hid, crawled, and did every other action that Trent felt too old for.

Ben finally sits down and focuses on the tv when he hears some song coming from it, the first moments that Trent can sit down as well, hoisting himself onto the cushions. His phone starts buzzing, a call from Jack coming in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” Jack’s voice comes through the phone as Ben gets up again, starting to run around with the bear Trent bought him.

“I’m watching Ben.”

“Since when are you a babysitter?” Jack asks, judgment dripping in his voice.

“Since Y/N needed a babysitter and I was free.” Ben climbs up on the couch and starts jumping, Trent suddenly feeling a wash of panic over him at the thought of Ben falling and getting hurt. Jack starts saying something that Trent knew he didn’t want to hear anyway, giving him the perfect excuse to cut him off. “Hey, Ben, you’ve gotta be careful. Sorry, dude, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Jack can get another word in. “Hey, Benny. Mom said we could order dinner,” he says, pulling Ben into his lap in hopes that he would calm down long enough so he could talk to him. Ben squirms as his energy never seems to stop, Trent doing everything he can to try to figure this out. “What sounds good to you?”

“Ice cream!”

Trent lets out a small laugh, Ben’s face glowing at the thought of ice cream for dinner. “No, bud, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Ben wriggles free of Trent’s grasp, repeating the phrase over and over again as he sets off running around again.

Trent was way in over his head. He didn’t think that Ben would have this much energy for this long. Whenever he was with you, it was either during the day and Ben stayed relatively calm, or when you were playing, he had you to help counteract and keep Ben from being the seemingly crazy child that he was right now. He could call you and ask what to do, but from how you sounded on the phone and when he came over, you were way too stressed out to also have to worry about Ben at that moment. He could call one of his teammates who actually knew what they were doing when it came to child care, but Jack’s words from the family skate practically haunted him. He wasn’t in too over his head when he was with you, or when he was with you and Ben. But just Ben? Not going too well.

“Benny Bear, come here,” Trent says, reaching out to catch Ben as he runs by the couch. “How about, we get something else to eat, and if you eat all of it, I’ll get you ice cream?” he asks, making a mental note to at least text you to ask if it was ok that he have it. Ben nods his head since Trent technically said he could have ice cream. “What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“What about,” he starts, pulling out his phone. “Some chicken fingers?” Something told him cheese and ice cream wasn’t going to end well for Ben’s stomach that night, and by default, it wasn’t going to end well for Trent, either.

Ben nods, going back off and running around the room. He had to tire out at some point, right?

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Trent calling you to make sure his dinner plans were ok.

“Hey, Ben said he wanted ice cream, but I told him only if he eats his dinner, and I had to make sure it was alright with you, first.”

“What did you settle on?”

“Chicken fingers?”

He hears someone calling your name in the background, you yelling something back to them in panic. “Yeah, there might be some in the freezer? If not, just tell him that the ice cream fairy is coming later and he can have it tomorrow, or something. There are also some carrots in the fridge, too. Tell him he has to eat some of those if he wants ice cream, even if I don’t have any. Have some with him, pretend they’re spaceships, and play with them before you eat them, that normally distracts him long enough.”

“That works?”

“Trent, he’s four. Most things like that do.” He hears more yelling from your end, Ben coming zooming by him yet again, nearly tripping over Trent’s feet. “I’ve gotta run. Love you, bye.”

You hang up before Trent can react. You hadn’t told each other that you loved the other yet. He knew he loved you, but he didn’t know if you loved him back. But you just said it, and he didn’t even know if you meant it since you said it in such a hurried context. He hoped you meant it. He can’t even focus while he’s ordering dinner, not really sure what he was having other than the carrots you mentioned were in the fridge.

Trent just sits there while he waits for the food to arrive, getting the carrots out and trying to see if there was anything close to ice cream, or even yogurt that he could throw in the freezer for Ben while he continues to zoom around your apartment. “Hey, Benny, look!” he says, holding up the carrots. “Spaceships!”

This felt like he was talking to a dog, which seemed weird, but at this rate, Ben was tiring him out so fast he didn’t know what to do. He and Ben start playing with the carrots, watching your son eat what was in front of him when the doorbell rang for food.

Ben keeps playing with food, something Trent thought you probably wouldn’t like too much, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should care. He had no idea how you did this. There was no way Ben had this much energy every night, right? He had never seen you exhausted, so Ben couldn’t be a ball of energy all the time. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he sat there eating his food.

Eventually, Ben goes to sleep, Trent helping get him ready for bed and tucking him in. You had texted that you weren’t sure when you were going to be home, but Trent was free to stay the night instead of driving back home regardless of what time you would be back, something he gladly took you up on.

Trent finally settles down after finding a pair of sweats he left at your place a while ago, collapsing onto the couch in complete exhaustion from Ben’s running.

“Trent?” he hears Ben’s small voice coming from down the hall, pulling Trent away from the trance he fell in trying to stay awake until you got home. “Trent!”

He runs down the hall at the sound of the increased panic in your son’s voice, not sure what he was supposed to expect when he practically burst through his bedroom door. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ben was breathing heavily when Trent got close to his bed, clutching his sheets to his chest, “I had a bad dream.”

Trent sits down on Ben’s bed, a sad smile on his face. “Ah, Benny, it’s all over now. You’re safe.” Ben nods his head, a terrified look still on his face. He pulls Ben in for a hug, kissing the top of his head, Ben’s small arms wrapping around Trent’s own. “How about I read you a story to help you fall asleep?”

Ben nods, jumping out of bed and getting a book for Trent. “Goodnight Lab?” Trent reads, a confused look on his face.

“Mommy likes science,” Ben offers as his explanation.

“Of course she does,” he says, opening the book, putting his arm around your son as Ben cuddles up against Trent’s chest. “In the great green lab, there was a laser, and a lab notebook, and a picture of Einstein with a stern look,” he starts, already seeing Ben’s eyes getting heavy.

You finally get back home, seeing the light on, no one in the living room. Wandering through your apartment, you hear Trent’s voice coming from Ben’s room, finding him there with your son, him asleep against Trent’s chest as he whispers the end of the book to him, “Goodnight liquid nitrogen, goodnight compressed air, goodnight scientists everywhere.”

You stand in the doorway, Trent not noticing you as he slips himself from Ben, your son curling up with his blankets. Trent bends down to kiss him on the head, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, closing Ben’s door behind you, giving Trent a kiss hello. “What was that?”

“He had a nightmare, so I read him a story to calm him down and get him back to sleep,” he explains.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you tell him, leading him down the hall to your room.

He shrugs, closing the door behind you. “My mom used to do it for me and my siblings. I always told myself that I would do it for my son or daughter.” You don’t know what to say, just pulling him in for a kiss, down on your bed. He pulls away, a smile on his face, “Oh, and I love you too,” he tells you, hoping that Ben didn’t wake up and hear what you two were about to do next.

Sweet Emotion

“Happy birthday, Benny!” Trent says, taking a video of your son as he blew out the candle on the small cupcake in front of him. Your son’s fifth birthday was spent out with Trent, starting with him making breakfast again, taking the two of you to the park and Boston Commons as he played with Ben the entire time, out to dinner where you were now, treating you the entire way. Ben didn't even care about the gift that you had gotten from Andy, something he had previously looked forward to every year. Ben was starting to see Trent as a father figure, something that was both terrifying and exciting to you.

If Trent, for whatever reason, stopped wanting to be part of your life, that would mean he would also probably leave Ben’s, a boy who already didn’t know his father and didn’t seem to want to know him. But he wanted to know Trent, he loved Trent, and you knew Trent loved him, too. You were just afraid he would fall out of love.

Ben was giggling as Trent smashed part of the cupcake against his nose, the bright red frosting making him look like Rudolph as he tried, and failed, to lick it off himself.

“Did you get that part, too?” you ask Trent, leaning over to see his screen.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Do you mind if I post it to my private story? Some of the guys and their wives would go crazy for this.”

“Only the private one,” you tell him, laughing as you turn to Ben to see his face more of a mess than before, the red frosting now spread to his cheeks, “Benny, what happened?”

“I’m painting,” he says, using his finger to smear the frosting on his face.

Trent can’t help but laugh, you pulling Ben in for a hug. Trent snaps a picture of you kissing the frosting off his face. “Wait a sec,” he says, calling over a waiter to take a picture of the three of you, both of you kissing Ben’s cheek as he beams at the camera.

You see him set his phone down, notifications lighting the screen up as you guys get ready to leave, the picture of the three of you his new phone background.

The next morning, Trent had morning skate before needing to get ready for their game that night. The last game before the All-Star Weekend marking the halfway point of the season was always both nerve-wracking and exciting, the hypothetical of ‘if the season ended today, would you be in or out of the playoffs?’ always on everyone’s mind even though it meant virtually nothing, but still wanting to stay at one of the top spots in the league regardless.

“Hey, what was with that story yesterday?” Jack asks him after practice.

“It was Ben’s birthday,” he shrugs.

“Isn’t it weird?” Zach asks. “She has a kid. She’s a mom. You aren’t a dad.”

“I never said I was his dad,” he defends himself, starting to take on a hostile tone.

“Well, you’re acting like his dad, aren’t you?”

Trent rolls his eyes as his only response. What was he supposed to do? Ignore that you have a child? Trent gets up to leave, Jack now standing in front of him to stop him.

“You’re with them all the time. You watch him when Y/N is busy. You brought them to family skate. You know his favorite toys, his favorite tv shows, you facetime them every night before the game because he’s going to be asleep by the time the game is over. You’re not his dad,” Jack lists to Trent, Trent getting more angry with every word that comes from his friend.

“What am I supposed to do? Pretend that Ben isn’t part of her life? Pretend that she has no kid? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s messing with you, Trent!” Jack yells, the rest of the remaining guys getting quiet. “You don’t do this. You don’t date a girl who has a child and play ‘house’ with her. You’re the guy who just fucks around and has fun. Where did he go?”

“I can’t change? I can’t settle down because I wasn’t settled before?” Trent responds, knowing that his face was bright red, “I love Y/N, and I love Ben. I don’t care if you think it’s ‘not normal.’ It’s what I want and you don’t really get a say in that.” Jack stands there, stunned by his friends' words, still struggling to find them as Trent grabs his bag and walks out of the room to go home before the game.

He wanted to call you and talk about it with you, but what was he going to say? ‘The guys think my dating you is weird since you have a son?’ The flash of your expression appeared in his mind when you realized the guys didn’t know about Ben at family skate, the pain he knew you felt when you thought he was ashamed of Ben. He wasn’t then and he isn’t now.

But what was he doing? Jack was right: he wasn’t Ben’s dad. He could never really be Ben’s dad. Why did your son mean so much to him if he had no relation to the child in the first place?

Why did he have to say he was all in? He was supposed to be focusing on himself and his hockey, not a girl he met at a bar and pouring all his excess energy into you and your son. What was he supposed to do? Pull back? Pull you away from your son? There was no way that was going to be an option, and there was no way that was an option he wanted to follow.

He was supposed to be following his normal pre-game traditions and routines, not having his mind run rampant over the thought of you and Ben and what his teammates think.

He pulls out his phone, a notification from Instagram telling him that you had responded to his story a few hours ago while he was at practice. Trent opens it, seeing the picture of Ben, looking so happy with the cupcake that was all his, the red frosting seconds from being smeared all over his face. Trent didn’t think about being a dad anytime soon. He really never had any intention of settling down, at least not yet, not seriously, yet there he was, thinking of Ben like his own son, head over heels for you and your son.

It was too much, wasn’t it?

His phone started buzzing with texts from the guys to make sure that he was ok after they watched his and Jack’s blow up in the locker room. Trent didn’t even care about them at this point, knowing that he should at least answer them even just to tell them to leave him alone for the time being.

But what if they were right? Jack’s words kept ringing through his head, that he was just a guy who had fun because that’s what he wanted, not a guy who settled down with a girlfriend, and especially not a guy who settled down with a girl who had a toddler.

He spent the entire time he was supposed to be taking a nap going back and forth between whether or not he was in too deep or if he was fine because he was in love. The night he met you, he had never intended to get this far in with you. He had just wanted to hook up, the reason he went home with you in the first place. But as soon as you told him about Ben, seeing the crushed look on your face at the prospect of him leaving because of your son, he knew that he couldn’t just be one and done. There was something about you and Ben that he had to be part of it once he was introduced, that part of his life that he never knew was missing until he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you.

And it was just too much.

Attitude Adjustment

Trent finally gets to the Garden, not even remembering who they were playing that night. He couldn’t think about anyone else, almost tempted to tell Bruce that he was sick so he could be a late scratch instead of letting this mess with him. Because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get out of his head and focus. The music that he normally played before a game wasn’t working, even so much as trying to close his eyes and picture being on the ice while he was in the locker room before the game.

No one approached him while he was in his stall, probably out of fear of another outburst from him. He wasn’t even paying attention when Bergeron gave his traditional pre-game motivational speech before they all went out to the ice, Trent skating around by himself in hopes of being able to focus before they played the Flames that night.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he hears someone say, not even noticing who came up to him in the first place.

He looks at Brad, suddenly thankful that there was someone on the team who knew what he was going through. “Katrina already had Sloane when you two met, right?”

“Y/N and Ben on your mind?”

“You were in the locker room after practice.”

The two of them skate around their half of the ice, the time before the game ticking down. “When you date a woman, when any two people date, there’s always going to be something that can get in the way and potentially break you up. That includes their family, their kids if they have them. You need to decide if you want to let Ben break you and Y/N up or if you’re going to take him in and not let him do that.”

The guys were migrating back to the bench, Brad still on the ice for the starting lineup. “It worked for you, though,” Trent says, hanging back as long as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the clock and his teammate.

Brad shrugs, looking out to the blue line where Bergeron and Pastrnak were already waiting. “I don’t see Sloane as any less of my son than I see Sawyer as my daughter. It worked for me. If you want it to work for you, then you have to make it work.”

The buzzer sounds, Bruce yelling for Trent to get off the ice and onto the bench. Did he want this to work with you and Ben? What the three of you had was already great, but Trent had barely spent any time with you, a time when you and he could just be a couple without worry of anyone else.

Trent’s line goes out on the ice, his mind still occupied as he skates. The puck touches his stick, him making a mad dash towards the Flames net, only to get tangled up with Tkachuk, sending Trent to the ice. He doesn’t get up for a minute, trying to process what happened, an easy shot and probably goal just messed up, leading to a breakaway to the other end to put the Flames up 1-0 against the Bruins.

By the time he can finally get himself up, Bruce is yelling at him that if he messes up like that again then he’s benched the rest of the game, definitely not a good look going into the All-Star break. He gets back out on the ice, the same thing happening with him tripping on a breakaway, this time over himself instead of a Flame, again leading to them scoring and putting them up 2-0. He couldn’t get out of his head. Trent sat there the entire time, not even focusing on the game, not focusing on the comeback his own team had to win the game 4-3.

He didn’t talk to anyone in the locker room, rushing out as soon as he could to go home, hearing Brad’s voice carry through the hallway to the elevators as he explained what he knew about the situation, no doubt that Jack offered his own remarks that Trent was sure would have lead to them fighting right there.

He had never wanted to fight one of his teammates over shit they said before, let alone one of his best friends. Other guys on other teams? Sure. But Jack?

Trent gets into his car, his phone already blowing up, asking him if he had still wanted to come on the trip to Puerto Rico he and the guys had planned with their girlfriends a while back. He had completely forgotten about the trip, no one even mentioning it for the longest time, not even sure that it was actually booked by anyone.

What surprised him most was Jack asking in the group if you were going to come with them, followed by a separate text saying that he meant it, that he wanted you to come.

Maybe this is what you and Trent needed; a trip with the guys, the two of you able to spend some time alone and just be with each other without the constant worry of someone or something else. He texted back that he would be there, not sure about you yet.

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Ben’s coming through the background. Hearing him made Trent hesitate, swallowing hard.”Trent?”

“Yeah, uh,” he swallows again, “Sorry, um, mind if I stop by for a few minutes?”

You sit up from the couch, looking at the mess you didn’t even realize Ben had created during the game. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” you say, hearing him start up his car.

“Yeah, awesome,” he says, hanging up before either of you could say anything else, practically speeding out of the Garden as fast as he could to get to you. The more he thought about it, the more excited he was about spending a week with you.

“Hey, Benny, guess who’s coming over soon?” you put on a cheery voice, crouching down to the floor where Ben was playing with his toys.

Your toddler started bouncing up and down, his arms waving around in excitement. “Trent?” he squeals.

“He should be here any minute, help me pick up some of your toys, ok?”

You and Ben start to scramble to pick everything up. You knew Trent wouldn’t normally care if there were toys on the ground, but there was something about the tone of his voice when he called to tell you that he was stopping by that worried you.

You had watched the game, you weren’t stupid that he had had an awful game, thankful that it was an earlier evening game that Ben could watch with you. Even he was upset when Trent fell, both times, getting benched and hearing Jack and Brick speculate what was up with one of their favorite players.

Ben continued to buzz around as you waited, thankful that he couldn’t sense the anxiety that was building up while waiting for Trent. You hear him knocking on the door, getting up while Ben seems to be oblivious to the sound. You smile when you see him, mirroring his own expression, the complete opposite of what you expected given the conversation you had minutes ago.

“I have something to ask you,” he starts, his hands on your waist as he starts walking you backward down the hall, seemingly toward your bedroom.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben comes up to the two of you, bouncing up and down, Trent's hands releasing their grip on you. “Are you coming on Friday?” Ben asks him, referencing his concert at school that Trent had promised to come to.

You saw the smile on Trent’s face fade at Ben’s words, a nervous look taking over as he knelt down to look Ben in the eye. “I really want to see your concert, buddy, but I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m gonna try, though, ok?” he tries to save face when he sees the crushed look on your son’s face.

Ben nods, not understanding what Trent was really saying to him. In his world, Trent saying he wasn’t sure meant he didn’t want to see him sing with his other classmates. “Um, Ben, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit, ok?” you ask him, guiding him to his room, watching him run down the hall. You turn to your boyfriend, clearly confused by what he just told Ben. “It’s the All-Star break, what came up?”

“The guys and I are going away for the break, and I want you to come with me.”

“What are you talking about? You said you were staying here?” you ask him, praying that Ben doesn’t come out of his room and couldn’t hear any of this.

“I know, I know, but, come on, things change,” he says, taking your hand and trying to lead back down your hallway.

“Wait, Trent, come on,” you stop him, turning him around to face you. “You want Ben and I to come with you on a trip with the guys? What guys, where are you going?”

His expression drops again, “I was kinda hoping it would just be me and you.”

“And where would Ben be? I can’t just leave him alone. I can’t go away with you.”

“But, Y/N, come on,” he whines. “This could be so good for us. A few days, just you and me, no distractions, nothing stopping us from just being together, like a real couple.”

“Distractions? A real couple? Trent, what the,” you stop, realizing you were standing right outside of Ben’s door. You look between Trent and the door, Trent’s pleading expression as you take him down the hall, practically slamming the door to your own bedroom. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss.

He sits on your bed, you still standing, towering over him. He puts his hands in his face, letting out a deep breath. “I’m,” he starts, “I just want time where it’s you and me. Other than that night at the bar, we almost never have had more than a few hours when you and I are alone. I need to get out of Boston for a bit, and I don’t want anyone with me beside you.”

“Trent, I can’t,” you protest, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, please, just say, yes.”

“No, Trent. You aren’t hearing what I’m saying.”

“I am, I just-”

“Ok, then you aren’t listening! I can’t just drop everything on a moment’s notice and go off with you on a vacation. I have a kid, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly afford a babysitter for more than two nights in a row, let alone watching him all day every day for an entire week.”

“Don’t worry, I can pay for one, I just need to get out of here, and I need you with me.”

“Trent, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Ben can stay with a sitter.”

“Don’t you get it? Ben comes first. Ben has to come first. When it comes to a decision between you and Ben, or anyone and Ben, my choice is always Ben. There is never a case when I’ll pick something or someone over him, especially not going on some trip with you and your frat boy-like teammates because you’re upset you had one bad game. I choose him every single time. Especially over you, Trent.”

“What about Ben’s father? Can’t he stay with Andy?”

You can’t help but gasp, hurt by what you thought Trent meant. “You mean the father that didn’t want him? I. Told you. This,” you say, standing up again, “Andy wants nothing to do with Ben. And right now it seems like neither do you.” You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, turning around and heading out of your room. You couldn’t look at him. You had no idea where you were going to go, given that you had Ben in his room and couldn’t leave him.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he runs after you, stopping you before you reached the door. “I just want a few days, where it’s you and me. Where everything is easy for us. Where there’s nothing, no one, besides you and me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be easy. You knew it wasn’t going to be so why are you so shocked that this is how it is?” you tell him, the tears finally falling.

The two of you stand there for a minute, Trent starting to reach for you a few times before running his hands through his hair. “It’s me and Ben, or neither of us,” you give him an ultimatum. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, wishing he can find the words. “Fine. If you can’t make the decision, I will. Get out.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No. If you have to think about it, then you aren’t ‘all in,’” you call back to the morning after you two met. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Trent doesn’t say another word, pushing past you and leaving you there.

You press your back against the door, letting out a silent sob so that Ben can’t hear you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wiping the tears from your face and peeling yourself off the door. You walk down the hall, hoping that Ben wouldn’t notice the redness that was probably in your eyes from crying, opening his door.

“Where’s Trent?” Ben asked, handing you a toy of his when you sit down on his floor with him.

You swallow hard, not sure what to really tell him. “He had to go, Benny,” you say, running your hand on his hair, pulling him close to kiss the top of his head.

“When’s he coming back, Mommy?”

You put on a fake smile for him, not wanting to let him know when you really thought Trent would be back. “I don’t know, sweetie. Not this week.”

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

You hadn’t checked anyone’s story on Instagram since last night, sitting on the metal chairs in the middle of the day, surrounded by parents much older than you, figuring now was probably the only time you hate the chance.

You tap through them, some stories from friends from college, random celebrities that you followed. You finally get to Jack’s story from last night. They were in Puerto Rico, in some dark restaurant. Zach and Jeremy were dancing, Jack behind the camera. In the corner, you could see Trent sitting at a table, looking miserable. He sees Jack with his camera, shakes his head and storms off. You replay the story, Jack’s shaking making you think that he was saying something and turning the sound on low, holding the phone to your ear. You could hear the music more than anything else, sounds of Zach, Jeremy, and Jack’s laughter breaking through after one of them said something inaudible. Trent must have gotten up at that point, because you hear Jack yell, “Oh, Trent! Come on, man! Have some fun!”

You go to Trent’s profile, hoping that he had posted anything. The last photo he has posted was of the two of you, him strategically cropping out Ben because you had asked him to. It was from Ben’s birthday, outside the restaurant. He had captioned it, ‘Spent the day with my two favorite people, Bear not shown.’

Ben’s preschool teacher gets up on the stage, the high-pitched whispers of the four- and five-year-olds starting by the back door as Ms. Barry introduces the class, all of them walking up in a line to the stage. They start waving to their parents, Ben waving to you as everyone, including you, has their phone out waving back and recording the moment. The children start singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ their pixie-like voices filling the auditorium, all slightly out of key and slightly out of sync with each other. Towards the end of the song, you notice Ben starting to jump up and down, anxious over something he saw towards the back of the auditorium, as did some of the other children. You figured it was nothing, none of the other parents turning around to look at what it was either.

They go onto their next song, one you weren’t paying attention to, nor did you recognize it. Ben was no less antsy than he was before, waving again with the biggest smile on his face. It had to be someone.

You turn around, Trent leaning against the back wall, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving to Ben. All of his attention was on Ben. You turn back in your seat, shocked that he was there. He was supposed to be in Puerto Rico.

You put your bag on the seat, the mom next to you promising to watch it. You sneak back to Trent, not sure what to say to him. You turn to Ben, giving him the thumbs up and a single finger to tell him that you were going to be back in a second, feeling bad that you were leaving your so. Ben jumps up and down, nodding and continuing to sing.

You grab Trent, pulling him out of the room and into the small hallway. “What are you doing here? You were in Puerto Rico last night; I saw you on Jack’s story.”

He looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be there knowing you and Ben were here.”

“That’s not what you said when you wanted to go.”

He nods, looking up at you for a second before his eyes flick back down to his feet. “I told you I was dumb.”

“So why are you here then?”

“I told you when we first met that I was all in. I can’t be all in if I’m not here.”

“So?”

He takes a step closer to you, hesitating for a moment. “So. I don’t want to miss anything with you, or with Ben.” You don’t know what came over you, kissing him outside your son’s concert the way you did. You can hear the parents start to cheer, signaling that the concert was finished. Trent pulls away, your foreheads pressed against each other. He smiles before stealing a kiss again, pulling you back inside.

Ben comes running up to you, giggling with his arms open. “Trent!”

“Benny Bear!” he responds, crouching down with his arms open, hugging Ben when he came in contact. He picks him up, kissing him on the cheek, your hand on Trent’s back.

“You came! You’re back!” Ben squeals, burying his face in Trent’s shoulder.

“Back and here to stay,” he says to you, giving you a quick kiss before putting Ben down, getting your bag, and going home.

#trent frederic #trent frederic imagines #boston bruins #bruins imagines #boston bruins imagines #bruins #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #aerosmith fic

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type40thiefoflight · 3 years

Text

Ghosts Season 3 thoughts on each episode:

Episode 1:

I see a bad moon rising, I see evil on the way

Humphrey is trying so darn hard to be a good husband, other than not learning French

I bet she really does know English and is just fucking with him

Ha, I was right!

Stop ignoring Humphrey!

Cap and Fanny are friends now, awesome

“Is it your oral skills?” Thomas!

This wouldn’t have happened if you’d learnt French, dude

Please don’t let Barclay die on the property

Ooh the ruff’s on, he’s gonna die!

All these vocal warm-ups are giving me drama class flashbacks

Oh my god Humphrey for husband of the year award

Stupid deaths, stupid deaths, they’re funny ‘cause they’re true! Stupid deaths, stupid deaths, hope next time it’s not you!

More evidence of my “Thomas gets turned on by being ridiculed” theory

Wow, that’s some laugh there guys. Glad they appreciate puns though.

Oh, Barclay’s fine. At least he won’t die on the property.

Are you the Butt Ho?

Her name is Sophie! Was that said anywhere in the episode? My hearing’s not that great.

Episode 2:

Pat worked at a bank and Robin shit bricks on his first mammoth hunt

Julian died of a heart attack, maybe drug o.d?

Now we know the woman’s name was Katie (It is Katie, right?)

New guy! Wow, Robin’s desensitized to death

Good to see more of Heather

Who wore it better, Mike or Julian? (It’s Mike ‘cause he's got rainbow Crocs)

Robin watches soap operas? (I think that’s what he’s talking about)

I don’t trust Lucy

Rachel has at least two half siblings courtesy of Julian sleeping around

Kitty gets jealous very easily, I’m guessing she didn’t have any friends when she was alive and now she doesn’t know how to share

The sign behind Robin and Mary says Conservative ’94 but in S1, ep. 2 Julian’s death day is March 18th, 1993

Humphrey is great at improv games

Don’t talk to me, my Bavarian circus, chickens, or 13 sons ever again

The only other people in the room with Alison and Lucy are the ones who are actually related to “them”

Oh, never mind Julian’s there too

He should have stopped trying at 69

Nice they acknowledged the sitting vs touching things problem

Yeah, Mary, fennel’s a laxative

Pat was a regional dance finalist

Dance Break!

I wish everyone who headcanoned Fanny almost going on the Titanic a very congratulations.

Love is an onion

What is love if not onions persevering?

Aw, Mary’s praying for the woman with the trial.

Why is Thomas’ cravat suddenly tied with the bow underneath the wrapped part? Oh wait, his collar’s just not covering it for some reason.

Julian taught Robin chess

Kitty the Dance Machine

Of course The Captain thinks banana splits are delicious

“There are times when one must go against the grain, make one’s own decisions rather than simply following others.” Is that foreshadowing for a coming out I smell?

Episode 3:

Is Mary saying Alfred or Humphrey?

When a wolf eat your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore

Do I want to know Cap’s idea of horseplay?

You’ll never be able to get it up, huh?

Get Out 2, Fumigator Boogaloo

I love how the ghosts immediately have no idea what to do without Alison

Hand-nocuulars, the latest advancement in espionage technology

Firm blows, Alison

Dip it again!

Tom I love you but you’re full of shit

Pat has asthma, no wonder Kitty’s dance party wore him out

They really dumbed down Mary huh?

Canned food didn’t agree with you because it had lead in it, dude

Ghosts getting scared of the dark and a ghost story is hilarious.

Friend pile!

Wait why is Pat in with Mike and Alison? Also sleeping on your side like that with an arrow in can’t be comfortable.

When I said you were full of shit I didn't mean it literally.

I went to Venice and all I got was this stupid t-shirt (and food poisoning)

Thomas does his best work when he’s not actively trying

Two bros, chillin’ in an alcove, zero feet apart ‘cause they’re not straight

They get badges!

Soon may the boiler man come to bring us hot water by tons

Episode 4

No, Cap, we are not calling it CocSoc, I don’t care how funny it is

“I know Fanny better than any of you!” Sure, Jan. (Julian’s face though!)

Autistic Cap back at it again with the need for clarification of instructions

Julian and Robin are such a wonderfully chaotic duo

Oh Robin don’t do that

Yeah Robin knows

Cap talks to his pillow? Get this man better friends

Wait, did Fanny and Mary...? Oh, it was just her reaction.

Robin, why are you immediately pointing to someone I ship Fanny with?

Pat, dreaming of a woman with a guy’s head is pretty bi, dude.

Humphrey?! The other person I ship her with?! It’s just his body, but w/e still 2/3 canon.

Good for you girl!

Wow, Julian upped his jerkiness this episode, or we’re just seeing it more

Wait, can Humphrey’s head feel when Fanny and his body do stuff? That’s uh, not great.

We got Fanny’s age! She’s 60.

Thomas’ ire for Byron strikes again

Fanny plus one whole Humphrey! Oh, never mind.

So Cap, who are you imagining the pillow as?

Episode 5

Cap likes Dorothy! I guess you could say he’s a good friend of hers?

Does everyone genuinely like Kitty or do they just tolerate/placate her?

Kitty’s sister’s name is Ellie, now I know who to sic the demons on

Lord Bummandbach’s balls are the most magnificent in the county

Pat’s also a musical theater guy, further proof Patcap is supreme

Elenore’s lucky she’s dead and a fictional character or I’d kill her myself

Dude, you’re bitching that your mom framed your stuff? That’s a good thing, dummy.

I love Alison’s red top this episode

Didn’t Mary’s husband get killed by a tractor or something? Maybe her dream is her subconsciously blaming herself for his death by manifesting him pointing and accusing her. Or it could represent the townspeople accusing her of witchcraft.

Mike trying to Shane Madej his way into seeing ghosts is hilarious

Kitty is very kind but way too forgiving and naive about Ellie’s intentions

Julian is constantly slightly tipsy from dying with champagne in his system, that explains some things

Julian has been drunk and horny for 27 slutty, slutty years

Who’da thought a ghost show would actually be scary? WTF, Mary?

I wish Elenore a very die by my blade

Episode 6

Thomas, leave Humphrey’s head alone!

You kick Humphrey? You kick his head like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for Thomas! Jail for Thomas for one thousand years!

Kitty got to ride in a canoe with someone!

Mike still can’t say “wedding”

I still don’t trust Lucy

I was right not to trust her

Awkward walking while on the phone, very relatable

Go Mike! And go Julian for using your powers for good.

Is Fanny going to be a detective?

Kitty’s very sweet but still too trusting.

Fanny Button, Ace Detective to the rescue

How did Humphrey not get bounced back over the gate before telling Alison about Lucy?

They sit together for dinner?!

Improv dinner party!

Extra thoughts:

I would have liked the Fanny/Humphrey plot to be an actual side plot building off of their interaction in the season 2 finale rather than another “Fanny temporarily falls for someone then abruptly changes her mind” joke.

They really seemed to connect after Humphrey told Fanny about his arranged marriage to Sophie and had common ground of both being in relationships that they were sort of stuck in and couldn’t connect to the other person.

Fanny and Humphrey’s head would have been better than her and the body, not because it can’t consent (it does have a “mind” of its own and the two are definitely two entities now) but because he can’t. That’s his body and he can feel what it feels but has no say whatsoever in that because they’re separate.

The only way a Fanny/Humphrey or really anyone/Humphrey relationship, especially a sexual one, wouldn’t be weird is if the ghosts found a way to permanently reunite his head and body so there aren’t any consent issues between the two of them.

Ghost clothes and whatever they had on them when they died reset unless they’re actively touching them. If someone picked some threads from Humphrey’s coat and used them to sew his head back on, that might solve the problem assuming they both agree to be reconnected.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts spoilers #thought i posted this #turns out i just saved it as a draft

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tllthesundies · 3 years

Text

Anonymous said:

hi! i love the entertainment fic :) can you please write the part when they are celebrating louis’ birthday together, from harry’s pov?

–––––––

Harry hears the front door open, then close.

He remains indifferent as he stirs the small pot with pesto sauce in it to keep it from burning. He, also, keeps his eye on the boiling noodles in the bigger pot. But he’s listening to Louis’s footsteps and the jingling of keys in his pocket.

“Okay, rockstar,” he hears Louis’s voice, becoming louder the closer he approaches. “I know I take care of everything, and I recognise that you live in the middle of no man’s land, but I didn't actually think I'd have to include a lesson plan on keeping your doors locked. Things happen, even out here.” He pauses, and although Harry keeps his vision on the food, he sees Louis in his peripheral lean against the counter beside him. He’s wearing his jean jacket, some grey band t-shirt on underneath, and pairing it with boyfriend jeans. “I mean, it's California.” Harry can’t help sparing him a brief look, anyhow, quirking an eyebrow as he stirs the pesto. He doesn't respond to Louis. Louis watches for a moment before pushing himself away from the counter to instead lean his hip against it. He sighs. “What are you doing?”

“Making dinner,” quietly and casually replies Harry. He turns the heat for the spaghetti off. “I thought we could eat while we plan. Are you hungry?”

Louis nods.

“Haven't had anything since lunch.”

Harry glances back at a cabinet somewhere behind Louis and points to it. “Do you mind grabbing plates for us and setting the table? They're in that cabinet.”

“Yeah, sure.” When Louis disappears, Harry takes the pot to drain the noodles. “Do you want a specific colour?” he decides to ask Harry.

“Um,” hums Harry over the sound of pouring hot water and wet noodles being dumped into a strainer. “Honestly? I'm feeling teal.”

As Harry finishes draining the noodles, pours pesto sauce on them and mixes them, and finishes the vegetables, he glances repeatedly, briefly, at Louis. He sees him with teal and olive green plates and sets them up on Harry’s table. He, also, tries offering help, but Harry shuts him down immediately, each time, and sends him to just sit at the table. His hands shake just a little bit when he puts each food back into their respective pots–the ends of his nerves are on burning ice and he can’t make himself look at Louis for very long, if at all. He’s just on edge for the truth he hasn’t told him, but he takes a silent breath to clear his head.

“Most of everything,” Harry says, after he’s set everything on the table and gently plops into the seat beside Louis.

Louis blinks up at him.

“What?”

Spooning noodles onto his plate carefully, Harry repeats, “Most. You take care of most things.” He offers the spoon to Louis with a small smirk ghosting his lips.

Louis breathes out a soft chuckle, taking the utensil from Harry.

He shakes his head in reply.

He waits until everything is on their plates to take off his jean jacket. Harry watches him remove paper from inside a pocket, then hangs it on the back of his chair. Louis unfolds it, glancing up at him. “I don't know what you've got planned,” he begins, “or anything, but I made a list, anyway, to help jumpstart ideas. You know Calista, so, I kind of presume you know what she likes. But—just in case.”

Tentatively, Harry takes the list Louis gives him. He swallows as invisible as possible, and his eyes roam over all of the ideas Louis’s written down: Frozen themed - extremely popular concept still; Pink strawberry theme; Typical animal zoo theme; the birthday party concepts keep going on and on, and the longer Harry continues reading the list, the more those icy ends of his nerves burn more. It becomes overwhelming for his chest, and–he has to tell the truth. There’s too much devotion and dedication in this list to keep his façade going. Leaning back into his chair, he finally gathers the courage to look at Louis, and says, “This list isn’t going to be useful. Don't be mad at me.” Eyebrows narrowing, a puzzled look comes across Louis’s face. “I lied to you.”

The fork in Louis’ hand halts.

He blinks slowly at Harry.

“What are you talking about?” he asks. “Why am I here, then?”

For a split second, Harry’s confidence wavers. There’s a hesitancy he can’t help having, and one he’s not used to controlling – and as observant as Louis is, he probably sees the moment he wavers. And the controlling side of Harry hates that possibility. But he looks Louis directly in the eye, runs a hand through his hair, and speaks in a quiet voice. “It’s your birthday in just a few days. I—I wanted to . . . give you some kind of celebration to show my”–the words continue getting stuck in his throat; he has to spit them out, to warm them up–“. . . appreciation for everything you’ve done.” He pauses, to gauge Louis’s reaction. He looks–unsure; wondering; still confused, albeit a little more understanding. “Look, I’m not the best at, uh—expressing my feelings for people. Not that I have feelings. But”—he rubs an eye with his knuckle, becoming frustrated with himself—“you know what I mean.”

He took Rachel’s advice, but maybe he went too far this time. He lied to get Louis to agree to this. He lied because he didn’t know any other way to go about this. He doesn’t know how to just–outright ask someone such a simple thing like hey, I want to celebrate your birthday, would you like to come over? And it’s far more awkward because he purposely hasn’t been the most pleasant to the exact person he wants to celebrate.

He’s trying.

Probably in his own twisted way, but he’s trying.

And the silence from Louis stretches for far too long – to the point Harry gets uncomfortable. But he doesn’t show it.

“I don’t know what to say,” Louis says, after some time, words just above a whisper.

“Say nothing,” Harry chooses for him. “Consider this a . . . I recognise your hard work, Louis. You’re always on time, prepared, and organised. I’ve never had to tell you how to do your job, and that takes a lot of pressure off of me. So, thank you.” That last part stings his throat when it comes out. But not in the wrong way. “Again, consider this a congratulatory party for two. Nothing more.”

Louis stares at him.

“How did you know?”

“Résumé,” Harry simply answers.

A small beat of silence.

Louis narrows his eyes at him. “I never put my age or date of birth on any résumé.”

“Résumé,” Harry repeats, intentionally curt.

Harry’s not going to tell him from which source he acquired the information from. He wouldn’t blow Niall’s cover like that. Niall had questioned him plenty enough when he had called him. Why do you want to know? Niall asked, even though he had already given the information to Harry. I just want to be nice, is all Harry answered with.

He wasn’t lying.

“Fine,” Louis replies cooly. “Creep.”

Harry puts on an unimpressed look, staring directly into Louis’s eyes as he chews his food. After swallowing, he says, “That’s a big accusation coming from someone I could fire.”

Louis smiles, smug.

“See, that’s the beautiful thing . . . you can’t fire me,” he retorts.

Harry shakes his head, and he fights the muscles in his face that are around his mouth that desperately are trying to lift his lips at Louis’s reply. He can’t let that happen. His mind races with other topics to bring; with other distractions.

“Listen,” Harry says, “I have a cake for you.”

“Where?”

Harry shakes his head again.

“We have to make it,” he tells him.

Louis looks cautious. “What flavour?”

“Chocolate.”

A pleasantly surprised look crosses his features. “That’s my favourite,” he says. “Lucky guess?”

“You could say that.”

Dinner continues quietly. The ends of Harry’s nerves have started to warm up, evaporating the icy burn and replacing it with a normal temperature. His heart stops beating inconsistently and begins functioning like a normal human being. However, the same icy feeling starts to show itself in Harry’s mouth; words flow uncontrollably out of his mouth. Harry’s not a talker. He knows how to talk. He knows how to respond to people, and how to maintain conversation, but he doesn’t generally start the conversations unless he has no choice. Louis looks a little amused by him, but he does his best to ignore it. He, also, tries to get Louis to talk about himself, so, that he has some semblance of control over his mouth, but it doesn’t work.

Harry notices Dolly sauntering into the kitchen in his peripheral as he loads the dishwasher. She has her mustard yellow turtleneck on still that Harry had put on her this morning, her collar matching impeccably. She comes right over to Harry and peers into the dishwasher, but Harry scratches behind her ear as a warning before gently swatting her away.

She mews loudly at him, offended, she wanders over Louis.

Harry rolls his eyes at her.

“Look what you've done,” Louis speaks up.

Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis as he messes with the controls on the top of the dishwasher.

Snorting, Harry opens a drawer and slings a clean dish cloth over his shoulder before making his way over to Louis. “She's just mad I wanted to keep her from hurting herself,” he tells Louis. “She'll come around in ten minutes and act like it never happened.” He lifts a hand and gently caresses Dolly’s neck. But Dolly tries to hide from him by burying her face into Louis's armpit.

Louis laughs, surprised.

“Oh, no.”

Harry just puckers his lips and gives her an air kiss, and chuckles, smiling. “She always comes back.”

Louis bends his head and drops his gaze to Dolly. Harry watches the gentle way he rubs the top of her head and the rest of her body. He’s so much more familiar with her than when he had first met Dolly. He had been jumpy, a little scared. Now, they’re friends. Harry turns his head away and walks to the pantry.

“So, I've got,” Harry begins, and stops. He grabs the chocolate cake box he sees hiding on the top shelf, and stretches his arm up to get it. The matching frosting container is nearby, and he grabs it, too. He reads the back of it before continuing speaking. “Chocolate frosting. And”—he draws out the word until Louis rolls his eyes, telling him to get on with it; Harry's composure breaks, a grin breaking across his face as he stammers out his words because of his breathy laugh—“could you get the eggs out, please?”

Louis probably thinks he’s annoying.

It’s all on purpose.

Louis squats down to release Dolly from his arms. She jumps out of his grip, but remains by his feet. He washes his hands, first, then puts the eggs he retrieved from the fridge on the island.

Harry comes up beside Louis who’s reading the instructions on the back very carefully, and just dumps the oil, cake mix box, and frosting next to the eggs

Harry finds his measuring cup, and gives it to Louis to use for the oil and water. Louis asks him senseless questions; if he wants to do the eggs, et cetera. Louis has him sniff the inside of the cake mix bake to see if it smells good. It’s very chocolatey. And while he lets Louis do whatever he wants with the cake, he searches through his playlist to find music to fill the silence, so, he doesn’t have to talk too much. He finds Louis a bowl, a pan to fit the mixture into, and preheats the oven.

Harry sticks his finger in the bowl last minute, making a pop sound upon releasing his finger from between his lips.

“That’s really tasty,” he says.

Louis’s unimpressed.

“Tell me that when you get salmonella.”

“Can't wait.”

Louis shakes his head.

As they wait for the cake to fully bake, they work together cleaning all of the dirty utensils and bowls. They clean the island. Dolly stays silently crowding their feet. Harry can feel Dolly rubbing her head against his ankles, then attempts to climb onto his feet to lay down on them. Harry internally sighs.

“Look,” murmurs Louis.

Harry hears a smile reflecting in his voice.

He doesn't remove his gaze from the whisk he's washing.

“I know she's there. I'm ignoring her.”

Then it happens very fast:

Harry feels a small puddle gather on his feet and the bottom of his pants that cling to his skin. He hears Louis’s shocked laughter, but he doesn’t look at him as he breathes in a sharp breath to calm himself. Every fucking time.

“She—”

Harry's eyes close in pain. “I know. I wish I could say this hasn't happened before.”

While Louis’s still giggling and picks Dolly up from his feet, Harry excuses himself to go change his pants, then reemerges to find Louis feeding Dolly from the palm of his hand.

Louis looks over his shoulder at Harry, a single eyebrow raised.

“Better?” he asks.

“No,” Harry answers immediately. He pulls out the chair beside Louis, turns it around to sit backwards in it. He crosses his arms on the back of it, and gives Dolly an annoyed look that she ignores entirely in favour of the food she nibbles on in Louis's outstretched hand.

Still highly amused, Louis smiles, looking at Harry. “She's fine. Why'd she do that?”

“She does it when I'm absent too much” Harry explains. “In her cat mind, she thinks if she vomits on me, I'll be forced to clean up after her and take care of her. I don't know. Cats are—they have strange minds. I just think it’s only my cat because she has anxiety problems.”

Closing his parted lips, Louis shifts his gaze over to Dolly. She's trying to bite down on a hard piece she got. Harry watches them both. “Did you want to, like, watch something?” Louis asks, glancing briefly at Harry. “While the cake bakes?”

Harry nods.

“What do you have in mind?”

Shrugging, once, feebly, Louis says, “I don't know. Maybe a movie? Comedies are nice.”

Harry stands from his chair, and pushes it back in normally. “It’s your birthday; you get all the privileges of picking and holding the remote.” He walks past behind Louis and into the front room, and sits down in the left corner of his settee.

After letting Dolly tackle the last couple of pieces of her cat food into her mouth, Louis picks her up and takes her with. He tucks his left leg underneath his right one when he sits down on the settee. There's a space between their bodies that isn’t too enclosed to make Harry uncomfortable; and he averts his gaze to the television, so, that he won’t continuously stare at Louis in his peripheral vision. He can’t keep doing that. He can’t keep–looking at him more than he needs to.

It’s dangerous.

Harry places the remote in Louis's outstretched palm.

Louis shifts through channels for too long; and when he enters Netflix, he spends too much time reading each and every description.

“By this rate,” says Harry, breaking their long held silence, “the cake will be ready before you settle on something.”

Louis turns his head, tilting his head in a look. “Well, I'm not much of a TV person, to be honest,” Louis admits. “What do you recommend?”

“I told you,” says Harry, staring straight at the television still, “your birthday, your choice. . . . But . . . if you really want a recommendation . . . There's Something About Mary is a very good romantic comedy.”

Louis blinks. “What's it about?”

“This guy Ted — Ben Stiller plays him — wants to reconnect with his old prom date back from high school he had a massive crush on, so, he hires somebody to track her down and . . . it's, like, really messy, but what rom-com isn’t? It's a hundred times better than it sounds,” Harry promises him.

Louis seems to consider it.

Then he nods.

“Sure. Let's watch that.”

Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis as he stands from the settee. “You sure?” he asks.

Harry kneels in front of his small but wide bookcase full of DVDs. He quickly looks over every case until he finds the one he’s looking for. Turning the player on and popping in the disc, he returns to his spot on the sofa. Harry’s seen this romcom a thousand times, so, though he keeps his eye on the television, he doesn’t try to catch up with everything that plays out. Instead, he listens to Louis’s laughter, and distracts himself by dragging his forefinger across his lips for something to do. When the stove timer goes off, he jumps up to get it, and Dolly follows behind him.

“It's done,” Harry calls out. After he puts the cake on the counter on top of a dish cloth, he tests the idle with a toothpick. When he looks up to see where Louis is, he finds him by Harry’s walls of picture frames, cradling Dolly in his arms as his gaze roams. Harry decides to act indifferent and let a hard feeling pass through his stomach, and raids through his pantry to find the frosting. “Louis. Where's the frosting?” Harry feels Louis come up beside him a moment later. “I gave it to you. Where could it have disappeared to?”

Taking a step back, Louis stretches an arm out to open the freezer door. He reaches in, and then he closes it to hold the small container of frosting towards Harry, in the air. “Right here,” he says, wiggling it when Harry looks at him, gaze falling on the container. “I put it in the freezer.”

Harry pauses, lips parting. “Why did you put it in the freezer?”

Louis raises both brows at him in a way that the answer should be obvious. “Because room temperature frosting is disgusting? It's only good when it's cold.”

Gently, he tosses it on the island.

Harry's eyebrows pull together as he steps back and pulls the pantry door closed. “Uh—I hate to inform you, but frosting is good no matter what temperature it is,” he says in a vaguely defensive voice.

“Now you're just being gross,” comments Louis, looking briefly at Harry when he situates himself in front the cake, his lightheartedness subtle. Harry chooses to just busy himself with removing the cake from the pan, turning his back to Louis. “Oh, no.”

Harry turns around.

“What?” Harry asks.

He sets the plate full of cake beside Louis on the island and peeks at what Louis has in his hand.

Louis turns his body in an angle, towards Harry, and demonstrates the issue. Holding a knife in his hand to scope some of the chocolate frosting out, he goes at it — but he's stopped, and it's impossible to get any, because the knife is met with nothing but brick. “It's frozen,” Louis says.

Harry blinks a few times.

“Really?”

“Shut up,” he retorts. He glances around before walking over to a cabinet to retrieve a bowl. “Couldn't we use a microwave? Unless you're willing to wait an hour for it to thaw. I know I rather not.” Setting the bowl down, next to the frosting, Louis takes it in his hands and attempts to shake it out into the bowl first. Harry just watches him – and he pauses for a second, because he notices a small freckle on the upper part of the side of his neck. He’s lost count, now, how many freckles Louis has.

“I thought you hated warm frosting.”

“I do, but if we put it in for just a few seconds it won't matter,” Louis reasons.

Harry watches him shake it and realise that method doesn’t work. He proceeds to lay it upside down on the lid and hits it hard. Then he tries squeezing it before attempting to pry the container from the edges of the frosting.

The corners of his mouth tilt downwards in a frown.

“It's going to take more than a few seconds,” Harry comments, and takes the frosting from Louis. He bangs it against the edge of the island, the sound visibly startling Louis. The solid block of frosting falls right into the bowl Louis had gotten. Harry gives him a smile as he walks past Louis to the microwave that sits on the counter to the left of the refrigerator and slides it in. Harry doesn't take it out until it looks like it's thawed entirely, then pulls it out with a hot pad. Coming up beside Louis, he pokes his index finger in the frosting and sucks it into his mouth. “Not that warm.”

He pokes another finger in it.

Louis waves his fingers away from the frosting, and he uses the knife from before to taste it. The temperature appears to be okay with him, judging by the pleased look on his face.

“It's really good,” he confesses quietly to Harry. He puts his knife in the dishwasher full of other dirty utensils and grabs clean knives and forks to use and separate plates for Harry and him. “I don't want to put any frosting on it, by the way,” he adds.

Harry pauses.

“What? Why?” He pulls his eyebrows together in confusion, and looks at Louis instead of the cake. What kind of person doesn’t want frosting on their cake?

“I prefer to have it on the side and dip the cake in the frosting,” Louis explains. “It tastes better to me that way.”

For a few moments, Harry stares at him, and Louis stares back, a little challenge in his face. His assistant is weird. But he can work around it. So, he nods, saying, “We can do that, no problem.” Then he remembers: “Wait.” He walks over to a drawer a few feet from them and rummages through it until he pulls out two things: a large pack of single candle sticks, and candle numbers 2 and 7. “Can't forget these.” Harry sticks the numbers right in the centre, then surrounds it with twenty-seven of the fifty count of blue candles. It's a very crowded cake, and crumbly and has new cracks added into the old ones because of the force of all the candles. It’s ugly, in Harry’s opinion; the cake, the stereotypical candles, how bare and destroyed it all is – but when he lifts his head to look at Louis, into his blue eyes that have specks of green and grey, his chest eases. Stops. Momentarily. This . . . isn’t so ugly.

Quickly, he lights all of the candles. “Okay,” he says upon lighting the last one, and sets down the lighter. “Make a wish.”

Louis ends up staring at his face instead of blowing out the candles right away. He searches Harry’s face. And Harry doesn’t know what to do besides stare right back. Finally, Louis tears his eyes away and leans down, blowing out the candles. They leave a trail of smoke in the air and a very distinct candle stench that Harry hates. But Harry pretends, and chooses to clap him for and whistle. Louis laughs at him, something soft and something high that pulls at Harry’s chest. He starts picking the candles out of the cake, and Harry notices a soft tinge of pink colouring the apples of his cheeks.

Harry doesn’t know why, so, he ignores it.

Louis cuts the cake and gives the first slice to Harry, then gives one to himself. Harry suffocates his slice in frosting very carelessly. Dolly retreats back to them and tries to rub her face in the bowl of chocolate and what's on their plates, but Harry grabs her with both of his hands and tucks her underneath his arm. She struggles to free herself the entire time; Harry ignores it. Even when they sit back down on the sofa to continue watching their movie. Harry doesn’t see it coming when Dolly whips her paw around and slashes at his skin, causing a long and bright red scratch down his forearm. He lets her go immediately, pissed off.

He sees Dolly strut right into Louis's lap, and walks in circles before settling down to rest on his thighs. Her relaxed exterior pisses him off more.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, concerned, eyes full of concern.

Harry’s jaw tenses. “It burns,” he answers truthfully, “but I’m fine. She's just in a mood today.” He rolls his eyes.

There’s a frown on Louis’s face when he glances down at Dolly, but he doesn’t say anything further. Harry chooses to suck it up and finish eating his cake while ignoring Dolly. The scratch thankfully never bleeds, as they finish the rest of their movie, eating the entire cake by themselves. Louis doesn’t finish the next slice he eats, but Harry has no problem eating the rest of it for the both of them.

Harry's licking the icing off his fork when he looks at Louis. The half piece of pure cake is still there on Louis’s plate. “What did you think?”

Louis's eyes flicker up at him, meeting his gaze. Breathing in a soft breath, he nods his head.

“It was good; I liked it. I love Cameron Diaz.”

“Me, too,” Harry admits. “She's very nice.”

“Have you met her?”

Humming, Harry nods once. “Met her on the red carpet at some award show. I think I have a picture.” Louis huffs out a chuckle. “Do you want to watch another movie?”

Louis stays silent for a moment, then shrugs and rests a hand on Dolly, whom lays sleeping in his lap. “Sure. But you pick this time.”

“It's still your choice,” Harry reminds him.

Breathing out a purposely heavy annoyed sigh, he says, “I choose you to pick the next thing we watch.”

“That's not how it works.”

“Sure, it is. It's my birthday.”

Harry stares at Louis, pressing his lips together. It becomes a staring contest between them. It goes on for several moments until Harry blinks and looks away. “I can't argue that,” he says, finally.

“Exactly,” quips Louis, as he gently drops the remote in Harry's outstretched hand, palm turned up.

They watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s, then when Harry turns on Meet the Parents, he notices Louis’s eyes start closing. He repetitively glances out of the corner of his eyes at Louis, watching him nod off until he’s sound asleep. Harry’s chest grows soft as he stares at Louis’s tired, pale face. His thin lips are slightly parted, like he should be snoring. Him and Dolly both sound asleep on each other is a rather humourous sight. He decides to leave Louis be and turns his attention to the television to watch the movie. There’s something . . . oddly comforting about the silence; Louis sleeping beside him, the hum of the telly, the filling sensation that encompasses the silence. It’s not so lonely–not so what Harry’s used to. By the end of the movie, he grabs his own plate and stands up, then does his best to grab Louis’s without disturbing him. But Louis’s eyes flutter open at the accidental brush of contact that Harry internally curses himself for. Louis straightens out his very tilted sleeping position, and looks up at him through squinted eyes.

Harry gives Louis a genuine apologetic look, and quietly says, “Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

Louis delicately rubs his eye with the back of his right hand, and stretches his legs, breathing out a tired sigh. He blinks his eyes a few times to adjust. “It's fine,” he rasps. “Sorry I'm falling asleep.”

“Don't apologise,” Harry gently tells him.

He continues off to the kitchen. After scraping off pieces into the rubbish and rinsing off their plates, he lays them on the counter, then hesitates. The image of the gift bag still in the other room floats to the forefront of his mind. He looks over his shoulder at Louis, and finds him distracted by Dolly, and makes a quick decision. Harry speed walks to the other room on silent heels and grabs Louis’ gift bag, then makes his way back into the front room. Louis looks up the exact moment Harry approaches him, and the movements of his hand combing Dolly’s fur stop when his eyes fall down and spot a white bag in Harry's left hand.

“What ‘ave you got there?” His tone is careful.

Harry sets the shopping bag right in his spot, close enough for Louis to reach into. Harry sits on the edge of the settee on the other side of Louis, at an angle facing Louis, and he looks him directly in the eyes. “I thought I'd give this to you, before you completely black out on me,” he says. “It's not really a celebration without gifts, too.”

Louis pushes himself up to sit straighter. “Harry . . .” He looks at a loss for words – lips parted on nothing; uncertainty scaling his face and eyes; touching the bag’s thin, black handles like it’ll burn him. “You didn't have to get me anything. Dinner, movies, the cake, I'm perfectly content just with that.”

Harry presses his lips together lightly and nods. “I know,” he says, forcing his gaze to not leave Louis's. “But I want to do this for you. Don’t make me repeat myself; I’m not good with complimenting people. Just accept it.”

“Harry—”

“Fucking accept it,” he says.

Glancing between Harry's face and the bag, Louis touches it again.

He leans forward and peeks inside. It’s covered by black, decorative tissue paper, and Harry watches him use both hands to remove all the tissue paper.

He knows the second Louis sees it. He pauses, gaze unblinking and widening just enough for Harry to catch. He sees the backpack from Givenchy Harry had gotten him. That was . . . another thing he managed to get out of Niall. Louis’s allegedly been so back and forth about buying it for himself that Harry decided to choose for him. It was extremely easy to find, and even easier to buy. It was probably the easiest gift Harry’s ever had to shop for. But–he didn’t think it was enough; he had bought a bag of Reese’s, as well as wrote a check out for Louis and put that in the backpack for him. Maybe it would make up for everything, Harry’s hoping–maybe it’ll . . . Harry shouldn’t be hoping for anything, really. But after Rachel had a talk with him and made him feel like a shitty person, he’s hoping this’ll convey Harry’s guilt. Or apology. Louis might not recognise it as that, but that’s okay.

“Open it,” Harry instructs softly.

Louis quits just staring at the bag and unzips it. Suddenly, he looks up at Harry and smiles at him, face glowing in happiness. Harry can’t help the smile he gives him in return. Louis backs down and–a little laugh is pulled out of him. Harry’s eyebrow furrow, a little, in wonder.

“What's so funny?” Harry asks.

Louis pulls the bag of candy out to show Harry, without speaking.

Harry's gaze shifts from Louis to the treat, a confused but amused smile splitting across his lips. He . . . doesn’t understand. It’s candy. Harry shrugs like what about it? and Louis shakes his head in response and mumbles never mind. Setting the candy down beside Dolly, he grabs the check.

Louis scoffs, shaking his head as he begins to read it, and asks, “How much is this?”

But he abruptly stops, face falling.

“Five thousand dollars,” Harry casually answers, despite his heart picking up pace again. Louis lifts his head to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. Is it too much? Is it too forward? Did Harry cross a line? Maybe he was wrong for buying Louis his dream backpack and a check. But if he just stuck with the candy, then Harry would look like he put in the least amount of effort in. And this is the line he struggles with: either going too far, or not doing enough. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Louis answers immediately. Then he releases a breath, knowing he’s full of it. “This is too much, Harry.”

Harry blinks, then stamps on his racing heart and pulls out his detached face. “Louis,” he begins, stern, “don’t even start. That?”—he points to the check—“That is pocket change to me. We’ve gone over this. I have more money than I’ll ever know what to do with. I don’t see better use for it than for charity and for using it to buy whatever you want. Don’t feel bad about me using my own money. Eat the rich, or whatever they say.”

“Do you even know what that means?” Louis asks.

Harry pauses.

“Yes and no. But that’s a different conversation for another day.”

Louis blinks, breaking his gaze from Harry. Harry watches him closely, and waits for something. Louis’s face is concentrated; furrowed eyebrows, a far away look in his crystal clear eyes. He’s thinking something, and as much as Harry would love to get inside that pretty little head of his, he merely settles for waiting. Dolly comes poking through, however, weaving herself effortlessly and expertly through Louis's arms. She throws her arms up to cling to the opened backpack, and stands on her hind legs to peer inside. She stuffs her entire head in it, and it breaks Louis out of whatever it was, making him chuckle.

Harry just shakes his head.

Louis wraps his fingers around her legs to pull her back out of his backpack, but she clings hard. Harry finds himself laughing softly at the image before him, and he intervenes quickly. He softly scratches behind Dolly's head, then transitions into wrapping his hands around her bottom. He picks her up upside down, successfully having Dolly let go.

Harry pulls her to his chest.

Louis's small chuckle turns into a giggle, and he shakes his head. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, and Harry watches his face change to realisation.

“I have to go,” he announces.

Dolly falls out of Harry’s grip and runs away.

He looks at Harry.

Harry puts on an unreadable face. “You have to go?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Louis responds as he stands up. “I have a flight in the morning. Remember? I have to get up really early, and triple check all my belongings. It’s a long flight, so, I’ll need some proper rest.”

“All right,” Harry agrees. He walks first to the door, with Louis following suit, after placing his backpack back into the bag, along with the check. “When's your flight?”

“Hm,” Louis hums. “I think 7.45 in the morning.”

“Harsh,” Harry comments lightly. He lifts his hand to rub at his neck a moment. “I hope it's good. Tell your mum I said hello.”

Louis nods. “I will. And I hope it is, too.” There's a slightly awkward pause, on Louis's end. But it doesn’t last. “Listen . . . I want to thank you for—”

Harry interrupts him.

“No problem.”

“You didn't have to,” Louis points out. He's clearly not going to let Harry wave it off. “You didn't have to do anything at all, but you did. I just want you to know that it's one of the nicest things someone's ever done for me, and that I really, really appreciate it.”

Louis looks at with the most serene face, conviction in his tone. It causes Harry to be temporarily weak.

“You're welcome,” he says in response, hands clasped behind his back for something to hold on to.

Harry doesn’t see it coming – Louis steps forward with confidence, coming into Harry’s personal space, and raises himself onto his toes to wrap his arms around Harry’s shoulders. Those icy nerves return alight and burn him. He’s paralysed for several moments; all he registers is the faint scent of floral notes reaching into his nostrils and brushing against his nose hairs. It’s not overwhelming; it’s the perfect aroma of flowers and fruitiness. Based on his own colognes he’s sampled and bought before, this one could be YSL – or maybe it’s ones he’s seen, such as Lancome. They carry a lot of floral perfumes. Either way, it’s very pleasing. And before he can think, he sneaks his arms around Louis’s small waist–it’s much smaller and slimmer than it looks–and spreads his fingers across the bottom of his spine and the middle of his back.

It’s only a moment later Louis pulls back.

Even though Louis doesn’t look at him, he can’t stop staring at Louis, completely dumbfounded.

“I'll see you in a couple weeks,” says Louis, smiling, when he looks up at Harry. “I'm a text and phone call away if you need anything, okay?” Louis raises a pointed eyebrow at him, giving Harry a look. “Don't hesitate, okay? I won't mind.”

Harry nods.

He’s not going to, but he’ll pretend for Louis.

“Got it,” he says, pressing his lips together.

The pointed look remains on Louis's face.

“I mean it,” he presses, to ensure his message is across.

Harry rolls his eyes and straightens out his posture. “I know,” he sighs. “I’ve survived nearly a decade without you, so, I don't think anything I can't handle is going to happen in the time you'll be gone.”

Louis throws his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I didn't say you couldn't handle any one thing. I implied quite the opposite, actually,” he corrects.

Harry plays along.

“No need to rub my already swollen ego.”

Louis smiles, huffing out a small laugh. It’s the softest expression he’s ever seen on a face. It’s so caring. Harry doesn’t–understand how he can be so gentle. “Never happy with anything, are you?” he teases.

Harry smiles. “Nope,” he says. “Comes with being a perfectionist. And just being me, in general.”

“I see.” There's silence that falls over them like a blanket. Harry’s hoping Louis will take the cue and leave, but he stays. “What do you plan to do for Christmas?”

Harry blinks.

“I don't know,” he answers. “I don't do much for Christmas, really. I don't celebrate it.”

Louis raises an inquiring brow. “Because of religious reasons, or . . . ?”

Harry shrugs. He doesn’t talk about it with anyone. He’s certainly not going to discuss it with Louis. “Nah. Just don't celebrate it, that's all,” he answers, giving Louis a small smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Not even with your parents?” Harry shakes his head, choosing not to say anything more. With that, Louis drops the subject. “Don't forget to—”

“I'm kicking you out,” Harry says, tone flat, and a finger pointed to the door behind Louis.

He walks around him and opens it.

“You're kicking me out?” Louis repeats,, smiling and now standing so close to the door frame, as he keeps his gaze on Harry, whom now leans against the side of the red door, arms crossed and one foot hooked around the other.

Harry nods vigorously, eyebrows risen.

“Get out. Right now.”

“Fine, I'll leave,” says Louis, raising his hands as he walks out onto the stone walkway, “but not because you're threatening me; but because I want to.” He keeps on walking down the small set of stone steps and across the path leading to the driveway.

“Louis,” Harry calls out without thinking, just going on the feeling of restricted air in his chest. Louis looks over his shoulder, as his hand pulls his car keys out of his pants pocket, and his strides slow. He stares at Harry with patience, and it’s the last thing Harry wants to see in his face, because he won’t be seeing him for a while. “Merry Christmas. Happy birthday. Have a safe flight.”

Louis’s mouth curves up in a gentle, genuine smile.

“Thank you. Happy New Year,” he calls back.

Harry closes the door two-thirds of the way, not willing to let go of the sight of Louis quite yet. He needs to see him get safely in his car and drive away – he can’t let that feeling go. The restriction in his chest worsens when he watches Louis open his car door, but it eases slowly when Louis looks back. In fear of coming off creepy, he closes the door. But he stays behind it to listen to the engine start – to see the red lights reflect against the windows and the distant sound of his car fade until Harry can’t hear anything anymore. Then he turns around, inhaling a deep breath when his vision lands on Dolly sitting on her bum patiently by the stairs, watching him.

“Dolly,” he says – she tilts her head – “Am I too much?”

Dolly mews and walks off.

He’s always changing himself, changing his style, his image. He’s either always too much or not enough; there’s no healthy balance. Maybe he’ll try working on it in Louis’s absence, so, he doesn’t have to fret over it every time he says or does something he’s not familiar with. He doesn’t want to scare Louis off.

#drabbles #hiiii i hope this doesn't disappoint! i had a headache while doing this lol so i hope it turns out decent-ish!

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dramaqueeenamby · 4 years

Text

Waves: The Read

A/N: I am a shady bitch, and I regret nothing. Also, if ya’ll remember, Mercedes is Summer’s publicist/manager. I mentioned that in a few waves, so don’t get confused, friends!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2K

Masterlist

TAGS: @notacamelthatsmywife @babe-im-bi @liquorlaughslove @letsshamelessqueen-m @missyperle @valkryienymph @tashawar @mani-lifes @missdforever @hello-therree @toni9 @queenshikongo3

"How many solos has my sister had?"

The room grew quiet, all eyes on the speaker. They’d just finished a number, or rather, Finn and Rachel had just finished a number. The rest of the students served more as props than singers. Ad-libs only constituted so much.

Mr. Schue’s smile dimmed. Slightly. "W—what?"

Alexus shrugged, motioning around the room. "Or any of the kids whose names aren’t Flipper or Rachel?"

"It’s Finn."

"I don’t care," she dismissed, eyes still on the instructor. "I’ve been here a whole week, and not once have I seen someone other than Cher and Sonny score solos."

Mr. Schue scoffed, crossing his arms. "Now, hold on a second, I treat all my students fairly. Any student is allowed to audition for a solo—"

"And how many who have auditioned actually received one, other than your prized pupils?"

Mercedes stood up. "Alexus—"

"No." Alexus lifted her hand and looked over at her sister. "This isn’t right, and you’re too kind and understanding to say anything, so I will."

"You’re out of line, Alexus."

She laughed, looking back at him. "Out of line? I’m not one of your little students, and you’re not going to shut me down like you do them. I’m going to say what I want and need to say, and then I’ll leave, but you’re going to catch this read, first."

"And, cut!"

Summer broke from character and offered Matthew a fake smile before turning away and catching Amber’s gaze. They shared an unspoken exchange, one that caused Amber to laugh after Summer rolled her eyes.

Summer didn’t know why she was so weary about accepting this role. Only 10% of it was acting, the rest was her actually reading the problematic cast members, which was all but a handful. But, to fulfill her petty side and get paid?

It was a double win.

Summer noticed Ryan was speaking with Lea, which ignited another eye roll. She was the guest star, not that Barbara Streisand wannabe. Still, Summer counted her blessings, because she could only take Ryan in small doses. He wasn’t as bad as his prized actress, but it was the fact that he allowed her to treat everyone like shit that made her think less of him.

Perhaps she was spoiled in the sense that every other director she’d had the privilege of working for would never tolerate such behavior. She had to accept that Hollywood was a game, and the rules changed constantly.

"Someone was having fun," Mercedes, Summer’s assistant chimed, coming to walk beside her.

Summer feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Mercedes smirked. "Yeah, right. You weren’t acting. You were giving them all a piece of your mind."

Summer retained her smile as they reached her trailer, Summer opening the door so Mercedes could enter first. "Are you trying to insinuate that I was using my job to tell these people how I really feel?"

"I surely was."

As soon as the door closed, Summer confessed. "You know me so well."

The two laughed. "Girl, you know Lea is probably complaining to Ryan right now."

Summer sucked her teeth. "You know she is." Walking over to the kitchenette area, she turned on the Keruig and opened the drawer to select a pod. Her hand ghosted between the caramel and the dark magic, before she settled for caramel. "That black bitch—"

Mercedes snickered. "You sound just like her."

Summer frowned as she insert the pod and selected 8oz. "God, you’re right. I have to have to get out of here."

Smiling, Mercedes swiped down to refresh her emails. "Hey, look at it this way, you keep up this level of performance, and you’re a shoe-in for that Primetime Emmy.

The idea of adding another award to her resume was more than enough to keep Summer focused and dedicated. As a dark skinned black woman, she had to work ten times harder just to remain 20 steps behind. Anything she could do to push herself, she cherished.

Summer added creamer and sugar to her coffee, blowing before taking a sip. "After this, I need a quick break."

Mercedes hummed. "Umm, about that—"

"No."

"Summer—"

"No, Cedes, I’ve been working back to back since I scored 4AM, I think I’ve earned a little vacation time."

"I don’t disagree." Mercedes raised her hands in surrender.

"Thank you," Summer nodded, taking another sip of her coffee.

"But—"

"Here you go."

"I’m just saying, I’m hearing rumors about a potential role that’s gonna start casting in a couple of months."

Summer rolled her eyes and brought the mug to her mouth. "And?"

"And." Mercedes also rolled her eyes. "It’d be perfect for you."

"Mmmhmm."

"Summer," Mercedes lowered her voice. "It’s Storm."

Summer narrowed her eyes. "Storm?" Mercedes nodded. "You don’t mean—"

"X-Men Storm? I surely do."

Summer gasped and covered her mouth. "Bitch!"

"I know!" Mercedes giggled, shushing her client. "So do you see why I want you to keep your options open?"

Summer downed the remainder of her coffee and washed her mug in the sink all the while still stuck on the information she’d been told. "Do you really think I could be Storm?"

"Summer, please, you won an Oscar for your first Hollywood role. You’re a shoe-in."

"What about Shipp?"

"Shipp can skip her ass off somewhere."

The two women laughed when a knock on the trailer door prompted Summer to walk over, opening and smiling when she saw Amber. "Hey girl, come on in."

"I wish." Amber rolled her eyes. "Lea’s ready to start filming again. I mean, Ryan is ready to start filming again."

"You’ve got to be kidding me." Summer checked the watch on her wrist. "It hasn’t even been twenty minutes."

Amber sighed. "You know the saying. She says jump. We say—"

"Trip, bitch."

Amber laughed, as Summer looked back at Mercedes, pointing a finger. "This conversation isn’t over."

Mercedes winked at Summer, the two actresses sauntering back onto set.

Summer wondered if Lea had been listening outside her trailer, because it seemed as if Ms. Michele was purposely antagonizing Summer. Any scenes they had together, Lea would abruptly call cut and give Summer "pointers," all the while Ryan sat in his chair and said nothing.

Summer, forever the professional, managed to keep her composure, but there was only so much she could take.

Finally, when it came time for Summer to film her final scene, she saw an opportunity.

"Alright, and action!"

"I just want you to know that despite your distasteful behavior toward me, I hold no animosity and hope that one day you can release your unwarranted rage, and we can be cordial once I’m on Broadway."

Alexus turned to Rachel and tilted her head, crossing her arms. "I don’t like you. Never have, never will."

Rachel’s smile faltered. "Well, I-I’m sorry you feel that way, but--."

"Let me explain something to you, Berry. This is Lima, Ohio. The biggest thing we have going for us here is Breadstix, a restaurant chain that’s been on it’s last leg since that lawsuit filed by the kid who got two breadsticks stuck up her nostrils."

"I’m much better now."

Alexus ignored Britany and continued. "So, I’ll give you this, this small town notoriety and fame, because I know and you know, that once you actually make it out into the real world, reality is going to slap you so hard, you won’t need to have a nose job."

"Alexus—"

"Your stardom is limited to this pathetic town and its almost entirely pathetic population. And don’t get me wrong, you’re very good at manipulating and controlling individuals, because you can. For now. But, let’s be real, your voice isn’t anything I haven’t heard coming from street singers in NYC. Face it, you don’t have the talent nor the looks to make it into this big star you think you’re going to be. NYADA?" Alexus laughed. "Maybe you’ll make it, I doubt it, and even if you do, once you realize how utterly mediocre your narcissistic ass truly is compared to real talent, you’ll come crying back to Lima and spend the rest of your life working nights at Breadstix while watching reruns of Funny Girl on a goodwill VHS player." A beat. "Now, how’s that for raining on your parade?"

"And, cut!"

——

PRESENT TIME

"Christopher, stop!" Summer laughed as Chris came from behind and lifted her up against his solid frame. "I’m trying to do my makeup."

"You don’t need it," he murmured into her neck. "It’s going to end up all over the pillows anyw—"

"Sir!"

"Autumn."

"Would you please leave me alone?" Summer managed to wiggle herself free from her husband, flipping him off when he slapped her ass. "I am a human being."

"Allegedly."

"Alleged—lemme stop before I end up going to jail." She leaned over and examined her skin, feeling for the tackiness to see if her primer had settled. "This is why I can never do my makeup right. If it’s not him, it’s the twins."

We wanna see the babies!

I don’t get it. Why is she always so mean to him???

^^^^You must be new around here…

What makeup do you use?

Summer caught the last comment and grabbed her foundation and concealer, flashing them on the camera. "You know I have to support my girl, Ri. It’s Fenty Beauty all day everyday over here, ya’ll."

More comments came rolling in, Summer partially paying attention while she tried to do her makeup. Chris was taking her out on a date, the first they’d been on since the birth of the twins.

Summer was actually excited. She was in much need of alone time with her husband.

She grabbed the Snap shadow and blending brush when she noticed majority of the comments kept mentioning Lea Michele.

She didn’t even attempt to hide her distaste. "Why are ya’ll asking me about that girl? Did something happen?" Different stories were coming in prompting Summer to do her own research. "Baby, can I see your phone?"

Without hesitation, Christopher jogged into the bathroom, grabbing onto Summer’s hips while she typed Lea’s name into google.

Five minutes into reading, Summer slammed his phone onto the counter.

"Finally!"

"You’re paying for that," Chris muttered, grabbing his phone, thankful that it wasn’t cracked.

"Sorry, baby." She leaned up and kissed his cheek before looking into her phone. "Ya’ll, okay, most of you should remember I played Mercedes sister, Alexus, on Glee, right?" A wave of "yes" rolled in. "So, I’ve worked with the bitch, and I am not exaggerating when I say bitch. That heifer is literally the worst person I have ever had the displeasure of working with."

Summer pushed Christopher out the bathroom, in case her adding onto the Lea Michele drag train somehow ended up bad. "Now, I’d heard she was a nightmare, but I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt."

"But, literally the first time I walked onto set and introduced myself to her, she looked me up and down, turned up her nose, and walked away." Summer clapped and covered her mouth. "It took everything in me not to call her ass out, but it was my first day, and I didn’t want to cause a scene."

"Obviously, I was a recurring star on the show so I would make appearances throughout the series, and each time I was there, she treated me, and everyone around her, like trash."

"Okay, but here’s the real tea, you know that read Alexus gave Rachel in season 3? That wasn’t in the script." Summer laughed at the comments. Her fans were freaking out. "My line ended when I told her I didn’t like her or something, but it was my last day of filming, and I’d literally had enough of her."

Even more comments came rolling in of laughing, frog, and tea emojis. Summer sucked her teeth and placed her hand on her hip. "Ya’ll, her white ass thought she was gone’ be a thirty something Maria from West Side Story on broadway." A beat. "Somebody had to let her know!"

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth x black!reader #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x black!oc #fic: waves

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freedom-of-writing · 3 years

Text

Life turned her that way

Just a nice heart to heart between Nicole and Wynonna taking place after the intervention at the beginning of episode 4x10

“Do you want me to stay?”

“No, you have to go.”

Nicole leaves the house with a heavy heart. Today’s her first day back as sheriff. She didn’t think she had it in her to walk in those shoes again. In the past, her uniform had always made her feel strong and in control, but for 18 months all she could feel was alone, and completely lost. Wynonna went into the Garden to save Waverly, and Doc, while she had to go home, alone and broken. Literally broken. And, yes, it’s true, she wasn’t actually alone, Rachel was with her. But half her family was gone. And then Black Badge showed up, Nedley disappeared, and Jeremy went MIA. Little by little, she’d lost everything: her job, her dignity, her hope. Her heart. Waverly Earp was her heart, and she was beginning to fear she’d lost her forever. At last, she was so afraid of losing Rachel as well that she put all her strength into protecting her, to the point that it was consuming her. Growing up she had always been a loner. She was used to being independent, but here in Purgatory she had finally found a team to work and fight with. And yet in that moment, she was all alone against the world. Again. She had nobody to talk to about the darkness inside her, because Rachel was still just a kid, who’d gone through a lot herself, and she didn’t want her to deal with her own shit as well. In the end, she was so blinded by fear and despair that she couldn’t even see it was Nedley she’d been haunting for so long. And she even traded Doc to the Clantons to get Waverly back. She knew he would’ve been able to take care of himself, he always does, but still. If she weren’t so desperate, she would’ve looked for some more options for sure. She’s not the type to betray her friends and family like that. But 18 months is a long time to be alone. And she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t sleep anymore. She could barely live. The only thing keeping her going was Rachel. That kid was the only reason to get out of bed every morning, and not let herself slip away.

Nicole is about to get into her car to go to the station, when she hears some noises coming from the barn. For a second she tells herself that Wynonna needs time, and she should just leave her alone. But then a voice inside her head makes her change her mind. You might lose her again, and you didn’t even try. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she walks to the barn door, and knocks lightly calling for her friend.

“Wynonna…”

“Get back to your perfect life, Haught!” A voice answers from the inside in a very harsh tone.

Nicole ignores it, and lets herself in. Screw time, she is not going to risk losing her best friend again, not when she can try and save her. Once she’s in, she finds Wynonna sitting on her bed and playing with a bullet in her hands.

“Perfect… if you really think my life is perfect, then you don’t know me at all.”

“What do you want from me, huh?” Wynonna tries to sound annoyed, but the emotion in her voice makes her sound more broken than anything. “I thought me storming out was a clear sign of ‘intervention’s over’.”

“Wynonna, we’re just worried about you...”

“Well, you can stop worrying now because I’m fine.” The small crack in her voice made her sound all but convincing.

“Sure you are…” Nicole says with a scoff as she moves to sit on the bed next to Wynonna.

“Can you just leave, please?” Wynonna begs in the smallest of voices as tears come streaming down her face.

Nicole looks at her for a moment, and then she turns to stare at somewhere in front of her. She takes a deep breath, gathering the strength to say what she’s about to say. It’s a secret she’s been keeping from everybody, even Waverly. But maybe talking about it could help both her and Wynonna. Ignoring her friend’s request, she starts speaking.

“I wake up every day in the middle of the night and have to check on Waverly and Rachel to see if they’re still with me. I even check on you most nights.” She pauses a second, waiting for Wynonna’s reaction. She expected her to say something mean, or to tell her to leave again, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t need to turn towards her to see that her words have gotten Wynonna’s attention, and she’s now looking at her. Taking that as an invitation to continue, she takes a deep breath and she resumes her tale. “One night it was 4am and you weren’t in your bed… I panicked so bad I couldn’t breathe. Then I looked better and saw you were passed out on the floor in a corner of the barn. I didn’t want to wake you, so I got the blanket from your bed to cover you up, and then, I put the pillow under your head. The truth is, you were so out of it, I don’t think a bomb could’ve waken you. But my heart was racing so bad, my hands were shaking, and it was still hard for me to breathe. So I left you there on the floor, and went back to sleep. Well, to bed. I forced myself to stay awake. I just didn’t want to see it again.” Nicole’s voice is so small and broken when she says that last part.

Wynonna doesn’t need to see the look in her eyes to know Nicole’s lost somewhere in her mind. And by the sound of her voice, it must be a really dark place that she’s in. All of a sudden, a rush of worry hits her, because she’s never seen Nicole like this. Not even when she was vomiting frogs all over the place.

“How bad is Nicole?”

“She was alone for a really long time.”

As she recalls Rachel’s words, her attention moves from Nicole’s face down to her hand on her thigh. It’s curled up in a fist, and her nails are digging hard into the flesh of her palm. As gently as she can, Wynonna slips her hand under her friend’s forcing her own fingers into the fist. She waits for Nicole to let go of the tight grip, and when she does she clasps her hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. She would like to say something to bring her friend back to reality, but she doesn’t know what to say. She has absolutely no idea what is happening inside her head, or what she meant when she said she didn’t want to see it again. But at least the touch seems to have worked because she can feel Nicole squeezing back lightly. Wynonna doesn’t push her to continue, she just waits for her to be ready to speak again. At last, with a deep breath, Nicole goes on with her story.

“I have the same nightmare every night... I’m at the homestead, it’s morning and I’m making breakfast. I go upstairs to wake Rachel up, but she’s not in her room. So I start calling out for her, but I get no answer. I start panicking as I look for her in every room of the house. But I can’t find her anywhere. She’s not there. It’s just me. I’m alone. By then, I can hardly breathe, but I still take the shotgun and start looking for her outside. I don’t know where I’m going. My eyes are blurred with tears, and my lungs are burning, but I keep running, and calling... And then suddenly I’m on Dolls’s grave. I take a step back in confusion, and I see there are other tombstones next to his. I start reading the names: you, Doc, Jeremy, Nedley... I’m afraid to look but there’s two more. Rachel... and Waverly. Then a voice comes out of nowhere: They’re all dead because you were too weak to even try to save them. They trusted you, and you did nothing to protect them. You deserve to be alone. You were never worthy of their love. I turn to see where it’s coming from, but... all I see are the ghosts of the people I love. But when I take a step towards you, you all disappear. All but Waverly. She stands there, looking at me with tears in her eyes. Why? I thought you loved me... So why didn’t you fight? She asks, and then she’s gone too.” Nicole becomes suddenly aware of the wetness on her cheeks.

“Nicole...” Wynonna tries to call her back to reality. She can hear her ragged breathing as she’s struggling to get air into her lungs. She’s never seen Nicole so broken before, and it is scaring her. She doesn’t know what to do, how to help, she’s usually the broken one.

“You’re all dead because of me...” Nicole’s voice is barely above a whisper, but Wynonna hears it loud and clear, and those words break her heart.

That’s it. She has to bring her back. She can’t take seeing her best friend like this anymore. Without letting go of Nicole’s hand, she falls onto her knees in front of her. Then she brings her free hand up to her chin to tilt her head up gently.

“Nicole, hey, look at me.” Nothing.

“Haught!” She screams this time, and at last, Nicole snaps out of it. “We’re not dead. Do you hear me? No one. Is dead.” She says staring straight into Nicole’s eyes, which are completely welled up in tears.

As gently as she can, she brushes her thumb onto her cheeks to wipe away the tears that keep streaming down her face. She can feel the tears forming in her eyes as well, but she doesn’t let them fall. She can’t cry now. Nicole needs her to be strong.

“We’re here.” Wynonna says grabbing both of Nicole’s hands and giving them a squeeze. She hopes the touch will further prove her words. “I’m here.”

She takes a sigh of relief when she sees Nicole’s eyes starting to focus on hers. She’s back.

“You can breathe now.”

And with that, Nicole slumps forward into Wynonna’s arms, sobbing hard in the crook of her neck. Everything she’s been holding back in the past 18 months, the pain, the loss, the fear, the despair... all that she’s been hiding from both Waverly and Rachel has finally come to the surface. And it’s the strangest feeling ever, because for the first time in so long, she can actually breathe again, even if the sobs are wrecking and chocking her.

“I’m here. We’re all here.” Wynonna says over and over in her ear in an attempt to calm her down.

And it is in that moment, as she holds a broken Nicole in her arms, that Wynonna makes a promise to herself and to her friends: no matter how hard it is, she will overcome this darkness inside her and she will start to take care of herself, because her family is worth staying for.

“We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

#Wynonna Earp #nicole haught #wynhaught #wynaught #fan fiction #fanfic #angst #4x10

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

Text

The Iowa Caucus Happened

A job offer slides into Rafael’s DMs as he waits to find out if it’ll be a new start or prison on February 8.

Accidental Feminist Icon

Delete the Twitter app, Mr. Barba

“Mister Barba?”

Rafael didn’t like hearing his name from the young woman behind him, especially not given what he’d done. He’d texted Carmen on the first day of the trial, and she’d agreed to look into the offers from attorneys he knew, and some he didn’t, while he sat beside Dworkin and emotionally prepared himself to testify. The ones he’d looked at the night before came from people he didn’t like or were last resorts. He’d moved from his visceral response to finding law to back his actions. Applying logic could let him detangle himself from his conflicted emotions. Catholic guilt wrestled his humanity. That said, he also found himself desperate to introduce Ollie to music as Carmen worked from his apartment that first afternoon, not caring for once as the toddler drooled or sneezed or spilled all over him.

“Yes?” he asked, taking his coffee from the cart. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“We haven’t. I follow you on Twitter.”

“Ah,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss-”

“Rachel Sullivan. I have, like, a reading Twitter.”

“I’ve seen that! Read with Rachel? Your icon is a copy of Howl?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, chuckling. “I just- listen, I know it’s bad what’s going on and a lot of people are really hurt and going after you. Do I get it? No. But, I think you didn’t get a good choice, and you did what’s right for you. When it seems impossible, it’s not my place to judge something I can’t fathom. And a lot of people feel the same. A bunch of us have a group chat and we hope everything goes well and you get to start again.”

It was a stark contrast to his interaction with mami or emails from church ladies. There was an acknowledgement of disagreement, but he needed more people to respect that they weren’t there like she did. He also remembered watching his father die, and while he didn’t like the man, he regretted not ending that pain. It only drew out hurt for everyone.

“Thank you, Rachel. That really means the world to me.”

“Good luck today,” she said, giving him a wave when she took her coffee and left. By the end of the day, Rafael hated Peter Stone for being a damn good prosecutor, and he wondered if there were any cases he’d tried, especially the ones before SVU that he was wrong on. He made his way into a new bar, definitely not his usual during all of this, and he sat and drafted his resignation. It took longer than he cared to admit, and he restarted and reread it time and time again. By the time he was drunk, he’d written something he could proofread the next morning and ignored calls from Olivia, Carmen, and mami.

He decided it was time to do what he had been dreading, logging into Twitter. Since Carmen had cleaned it up, more people had found him, and he was able to easily ignore anything hateful by skimming for murder or murderer in the body of the tweet. He skipped those, and Rafael was surprised to see some apathy, sympathy, or respect for his reasoning. Lazily, he scrolled his direct messages. A select few of the people who knew him contacted him with revulsion, but his filtered messages were filled with vitriol. He found Rachel’s account again, following her back and deciding he could break his unspoken rule of only following people he knew or the occasional blog/podcast/museum/celebrity. If anyone contacted him with kindness, he was now more open to the reciprocity of Twitter; no one would be asking him to prosecute their case soon.

He saw a message from Tripp Greene. In Harvard, they’d had an unspoken alliance as the two scholarship kids in their cohort, a silent allegiance that continued into law school. There were very few people Rafael respected personally from Harvard, but Tripp had remained kind, even if he worked in something as ruthless as politics. They’d been reunited by Rafael’s uptick in Twitter popularity. He was more proud than he should be by the potential presidential candidates that had followed him. Rafael should have known Tripp would reach out; he was ever the silent cheerleader and had watched a sibling die on life support when he was at Harvard. They’d discussed the morality of pulling plugs and the selfish desire to keep people alive, though most of it had been Tripp talking and Rafael listening.

While moving to Iowa seemed extreme, he was acutely aware that he would end up haunting the DA’s office and Manhattan SVU like some ghost of ADAs past instead of moving forward. His mother had a boyfriend and looming retirement that seemed likely to take the pair to Miami, where she could play grandma to his grandchildren. There was nothing left for him here but Carmen, and while a great friend, she was not enough to erase the last twenty-one years of his life. When Carmen called for the fifth time that night, he ignored it, but it was quickly followed by Answer the phone or I tell Olivia I haven’t heard from you. With a groan, he answered when Carmen called again sixty seconds later.

“I’m fine. I don’t want to delve back into a play by play of my day.”

“That’s why you’re drunk at seven o’clock,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm as she pretended that solved everything.

“It’s only been two hours?”

“You’re not at Forlini’s.”

“I’m not hanging out with Stone.”

“Send me your location. I just picked Ollie up from mom’s.”

“Take your son home, Carmen. I’ll be fine.”

“But we could talk about how much I also hate Stone. I’ll even stop and let you grab take out from that Cuban place you like.”

“Deal,” he acquiesced, motioning he wanted to close his tab. “Call me when you’re close.”

“Deal. ETA is about fifteen minutes.”

He polished off his scotch, signing the check and tipping well before taking his briefcase and leaning against the wall as he waited for Carmen’s SUV. She waved at him out the window, and he hurried into her passenger seat. Though he always knew that she was a great secretary and assistant, Carmen was proving to be the friend he needed right now. Olivia, in the few phone calls they had, was unwilling to discuss anything but the case. She was in cop mode, and she talked to him like she could swoop in and fix what he had done. While she thought he didn’t know, she’d talked to McCoy, talked to Stone, talked to anyone who would listen. But what she didn’t understand is that he’d accepted going to prison was a possibility, but it was one he felt was worth it.

“Barba!” he heard from the backseat, smiling softly to see Ollie more awake than he’d expected. He’d seen the boy periodically, mostly during evening handoffs when Carmen’s mother would drop him off so Carmen could take him home. There were a lot of single mothers in his life, and all were exceptional. The last few days, Carmen and Ollie both had spent a lot of time with him. He kept introducing Ollie to music and movies and foods like he could make up for everything Drew wouldn’t experience by making sure Ollie did.

“Oliver!” he smiled, twisting around to smile at him. The boy kicked his leg, and the blue stripe on the rubber of his sneakers lit up. “I like your shoes.”’

“Thanks,” he giggled, kicking again.

“You’re good with him,” Carmen smiled, the navigation now leading her to get his take out.

“He’s a good kid. Noah made me better with kids. Liv said I held him like a sack of flour at first.”

“You’ll be ready by the time you have your own.”

“I work too much.”

“That can change.”

“I don’t deserve to have a child,” he shrugged, and he could see Carmen purse her lips. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be good at it anyway. Wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I might end up like dad. No kid deserves that shit.”

“Bad word!” Ollie scolded, tablet in hand as he watched a movie.

“Sorry, Ollie. Stuff.”

“You’ve never told me what he did.”

“He wanted heterosexual, toxic machismo and got a swarmy, emotional bisexual.”

“You’re not that emotional.”

“He took care of that,” he said darkly. “I used to cry when he went after mami. That turned his attention to me.”

Carmen knew there was nothing she could say, so instead she silently took his hand, squeezing softly. He was taken aback at first, but he kept her hand loosely in his as his head lulled against the headrest. It was strangely grounding, the physical affection. He’d felt like he was swimming the last few days as memories of his father, his father’s death, his childhood, and each case he tried bubbled up. That wasn’t including the vision of baby drew and Maggie in the hospital room that lingered everywhere.

The conflicting guilt and conviction he’d done the right thing also broke a damn and the feelings he’d suppressed- loneliness, guilt, abandonment, distrust- were all bubbling to the surface. He’d spent so much of his life trying not to process them so he could focus on a conviction rate and moving forward that he didn’t have the tools everyone else did sometimes. Right now, Carmen felt like an anchor, and he was grateful for her.

He got out of the car when Carmen parked, ordering enough food for three adults, one take out container containing whatever he thought a toddler could handle. Soon enough, they were settled in his living room and eating, though Ollie had minimal interest in the pork, beans, and rice in front of him. The thought crossed his mind that when he took one of the out of state jobs, he wouldn’t have Carmen there like this. He was sure this friendship would be short lived; when he didn’t need her anymore, she’d leave him. That’s what usually happened, wasn’t it? She just felt bad for him.

“I’m moving to Iowa,” he blurted out before he was able to spiral into the self loathing he’d recently discovered.

“That’s far,” she said, and he thought he could detect sadness in her voice.

“There’s FaceTime.”

“Not quite the same, but I’ll take it.”

“Tripp understands,” he said, sobering up as the food hit his stomach. “He lost a sister. Watched someone dying like with my dad except she’d been born that way. It was years, Carmen.”

“That’s a lot. I’m going to miss you, Rafael. Ollie will too.”

“Come visit. If the tickets are bad, I’ll pay. Or cover renting a car.”

“You’re drunk,” she chuckled.

“Sorry. Best friend. It’s the rules.”

“We’ll come. But I can afford tickets.”

“Promise if it’ll make things tight, you’ll let me. You’re raising a kid. No kids means I can afford to get my friend the occasional plane ticket.”

“Deal.”

“Next week, will it be Des Moines or prison? Who knows! I’ll probably grow a beard either way. Think they’d recognize me in prison if I grow a beard?”

“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Stop shaving and we’ll find out.”

She could see Rafael getting tired, head leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. She preferred when he joked about all of this. They were stuck waiting, and this time the next night they’d probably know. Ollie climbed between them on the couch, and she realized her boss wasn’t the only one almost asleep.

“You two can stay,” Rafael yawned, hand smoothing Ollie’s curls back.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice not being alone in the morning. And you can stay here to work. We didn’t talk about it, but I know you hate Stone. He’s a good attorney. Doing his job.”

“His job is wrong.”

“That isn’t his fault. If another ADA had done what I did? I’d be prosecuting them.”

“Go get ready for bed,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. As she scooped Ollie up, she kissed the top of Rafael’s head. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Carmen?” She turned in the doorframe. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“I’m glad to, Raf. Promise you’ll actually sleep.”

“I promise.”

“Night, Barba,” Ollie yawned, waving over his mom’s shoulder as they entered his guest room. Maybe Iowa was going to be too far if he didn’t go to prison. He was getting quite fond of having Carmen around quite quickly. He wasn’t going to be her superior anymore, so this friendship could be something he maintained.

Olivia would be a given; even if they were primarily united around work, she was also one of his closest friends and maybe not working together would make him relax. Hell, maybe the end of his life in the city would do it. Rafael couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt he was chasing an upward trajectory in New York City. Even at Harvard, the plan had been to return. Maybe coming into Des Moines established would let him feel comfortable just existing.

He liked cooking and reading in the park and going out dancing on occasion. He rarely had time for two options, and the latter made his cheeks red with embarrassment at the prospect of a colleague seeing him during the outing. In Iowa, maybe he could go dancing and take up a new hobby and wear jeans without feeling like something was out of his control.

He woke up before Carmen, excited to be able to cook for her. He appreciated the fact she was happy to help him, but she had paused her own life for the last few days. Their friendship was relegated to offices and dinners by the office. He’d come to her baby shower and birthday parties and even a holiday party, but that was it and that had other colleagues present. Except maybe the baby shower, but he was determined to buy up whatever was left on her registry when the day came, using mami, abuelita, and the older women at church as pseudonyms to pretend he’d just let family know.

“You can cook?”

“I just never had time,” he shrugged, tray coming out of the oven.

“You made pastries?”

“Pastelitos de guayaba.” Carmen didn’t miss how proud he looked as he admired them. They were something he’d always made with family. “They aren’t hard, but abuelita used to make them for me all the time. Puff pastry, sweetened cream cheese and guava paste. Cafe con leche on the way.”

“You couldn’t sleep?” He shook his head, pouring the espresso and adding the milk before placing mugs at the breakfast counter. His mouth was set in a line now, the corners sucked in as he focused on the countertop. Her hand rested on his, giving a squeeze and he rewarded her with a soft smile. “We’ll be helping you pack for Iowa in no time.”

“I hope,” he nodded, biting into a pastry. Ollie came out, eyeing the countertop. “Want one, Oliver?”

“What are they?”

“Delicious,” Carmen groaned, having torn into her own. That was enough for Ollie, who accepted a pastry from Rafael with a soft Thank you before biting into it carefully.

“Wow! It is good!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

It felt a somber affair, despite the pastries, when Carmen saw him off to court. She chose to wait in his apartment, ringer on high and news coverage on. Ollie was easily entertained by the toys she had in the car, and the phones were forwarded to be answerable on her cell phone. By the end of the day, she’d put dinner in his slow cooker and cleaned most everything at least once. And then her phone rang with his ringer. She’d picked one of the other presets for him long ago, and she watched Ollie with his blocks as she answered.

“Rafael?”

“Not guilty,” he exhaled, still unable to believe it as he surveyed his office to begin packing. Her desk was empty, and he didn’t mind today because if she had been here, McCoy would’ve had her helping Stone. Carmen was his assistant, his friend, and it was bad enough to know Stone would probably take his place at work.

“Thank God,” she whispered. “Did you turn the letter in?”

“I put it on Jack’s desk. I’m hoping to be gone buy his return. I think three heavy boxes will cover it. Plus anything I hung, but other than diplomas most of it came with the place.”

“I put dinner on. Ollie and I ran to the store and picked up short ribs and potatoes and carrots. I needed something to do.”

“Nervous you’d be visiting me in prison?”

“You know damn well juries can be swayed. You’ve done it.”

“And I’m safe. I’ll be there in a couple of hours, okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you get to go to Iowa.”

#Rafael Barba x Carmen #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu

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kurts-still-here · 3 years

Text

They’ll Never See Me Cry Kurtbastian FanFiction Chapter 5/7: Never Been Kissed

Archive Of Our Own

FanFiction.Net

Please leave any questions, comments or feedback on here or on A03 or FanFiction.Net and hope you enjoy!! :)

Mike and Artie

Artie and Mike were internally cursing Rachel for making them late to football practice. She had specifically needed the two of them for help, something about an audition for something and that she needed Mike for choreography and Artie to record. And since it was Rachel it took one hour longer than it was supposed to and now they were going to be late for their practice. They were praying that they could get dressed in record time so they wouldn’t be penalized by Coach Beiste as they entered the locker room and went inside. They went over to their lockers, quickly getting out their stuff when they heard muffled cries and sniffling coming from the lockers a few rows down from them.

“Do you hear that?” Artie asked Mike, peeking his head around the corner so he could try to figure out what the source of the crying was.

“Yeah,” Mike said, doing the same as Artie. Their eyes wandered around for a moment before they settled on someone who was curled up in a ball, crying their eyes out. And that person was Kurt.

“It’s Kurt,” Artie whispered. “What’s he doing here? He should’ve been gone hours ago,”

“Well it’s obvious that something happened to him,” Mike said, worried.

Kurt had been acting strange the entire year so far. He looked like a ghost most of the time, losing weight by the day and getting paler every second. He stopped fighting Rachel for solos and stayed quiet in glee club. He was so quiet and kept to himself and it made Mike wonder if he was the only one that noticed.

Mike had first noticed during Kurt’s dad’s heart attack. He had known how upset Kurt was and then how his worry was added to when the glee club was attacking him for his thoughts on religion. He felt bad but he didn’t know how to be a good friend to Kurt during the time because he was pulling away from everyone and closed himself off. Thankfully his dad survived and Mike thought that Kurt would be okay and that he would go back to normal.

He was wrong. Kurt only got skinnier and player and he only stopped smiling more and this time it seemed like he didn’t even try to hide how miserable he was. Mike knew that it was because of the bullying an =d he knew that it was getting worse for him but once again, he didn’t know how to help. And he would ask someone for advice on how to reach out to him but once again, no one else seemed to notice Kurt. They were all preoccupied, Rachel and Finn with Sectionals, Brittany, Santana and Quinn with Cheerios, Mercedes and Tina with trying to fight to have their voices heard, and then Mike, Sam and Puck didn’t really seem like the best people to go to on advice on how to help someone. Mike didn’t think that Kurt would appreciate it much if he went to an adult like Mr. Schue or Ms. Pillsbury and besides, he knew that everyone noticed the bullying and they continued to do nothing. And those were his only options.

Mike cared about Kurt, they were friends. He didn’t like seeing him look so soulless and dead and he wanted to do something. What could he do?

“Yeah but what do you think it is?” Artie whispered back. “The bullying can’t be that bad, Sam punched Karofsky to tell him to back off,”

“And you really think that Karofsky’s going to listen just because he got beat up?” Mike asked. “Karofsky’s strong, he has the power and he knows that no one cares about Kurt being bullied. He thinks he can get away with it because no one dares to stop him,”

“Well what should we do?” Artie asked, coming away from the corner and looking up at Artie.

“We should see what’s wrong, Artie,” Mike said, obviously.

“Hell no,” Artie whispered harshly.

“Well why not?” Mike asked, confused. “He’s our friend and he’s upset,”

“Look Mike, Kurt is our friend but I’ve known him way longer than you have and he’s not going to want to know that anyone saw him in the state that he’s in, that’s nothing against us it’s just who he is. He’s too prideful and acts like he has everything under control even when it’s obvious he doesn’t. If he really needs help, if he really wants someone to know what’s going on then he would reach out to someone but that’s not what he wants. Besides, I don’t want to listen to him cry about his problems because newsflash, we all have our shit.” Artie explained.

“So let me get this straight,” Mike said, ashamed of Artie for being so selfish. “You want us to ignore the fact that we just saw Kurt, our friend who’s obviously going through a rough time, crying on the floor of a dirty locker room? You want us to ignore the fact that something’s up with him when you know that if one of us were in his position that he would come over to help us whether we wanted help or not? And what do you mean we all have our shit? Sure we get like a slushie in the face every once in a while but you don’t see us getting thrown into dumpsters or getting shoved up against lockers,”

“All I’m saying is that we can’t act like he’s the only one who’s being bullied. Yes maybe what he goes through is slightly worse but we still get harassed. Trust me Mike, he doesn’t want or need our help. He’ll be fine,”

“Have you even noticed how he’s been acting lately?” Mike asked, getting angrier by the second.

“Yes, actually I have,” Artie said, matter-of-factly. “He’s being prissy and closed off and honestly, I don’t care. It’s his life, who are we to interfere? We stood up to Karofsky for him and if Karofsky didn’t get the message from that then he probably never will. If his only problem is the bullying then there’s nothing else we can do about it. It’s not like he’ll go through it for the rest of his life Mike,”

“You sound selfish Artie,” Mike told him. “What if he needs help and he just doesn’t know how to go about getting it? What if his problem isn’t only the bullying? What if he’s depressed or something? You don’t know how he feels and you don’t know what’s going on,”

“Exactly,” Artie said, narrowing his eyes. “And I don’t want to know. He needs to learn how to stand up for himself. He’s not always going to have someone who’s there to fight his battles for him. Like I keep saying, there’s nothing we can do. Now come on we have like a minute to get out to the field before we have to do laps,”

Artie whipped his wheelchair around and started to roll himself out of the room before he stopped and turned his head around to look at Mike.

“Look Mike, come on,” He said, trying to be more sympathetic. “He’s going to be fine, this is Kurt Hummel. He’s strong and we all know that. Don’t worry about it,”

Mike looked back over the corner again to see Kurt still curled in one himself, his small body shaking and he sighed. Artie was probably right, Kurt didn’t seem like the kind of person that would ask for help even if he needed it. And Kurt was stubborn. He probably wouldn’t even let him help out if Mike went over there. So what was the point?

“You’re right,” Mike said, shaking his head. “Let’s go,”

So Mike followed Artie out of the room and he hoped that Kurt hadn’t seen them. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed in himself for what he did. He just left someone alone when they were crying and were obviously in a bad place. His mother would be disappointed in him too. That’s not how he was raised. He was raised to show compassion and to help people, that’s one of the reasons why he never bullied Kurt in the first place. But what he just did was horrible.

He wanted to make it up to Kurt somehow. What could he do for him, what could he give him to make up for the stupid choice he made and what could he give him to make him happier? He thought about that all throughout football practice and the thoughts stayed with him throughout his evening. He was ashamed of everyone else too.

Artie seemed to be fine after seeing Kurt, he joked around with Sam, Finn and Puck like nothing was wrong and it made him sick. Artie was supposingly Kurt’s friend, they were all supposingly Kurt’s friend and yet no one seemed to care about him. What great friends they all were.

He ate his dinner and thought about Kurt. He tried to do his homework but all he could think about was Kurt. He went to bed and he tossed and turned thinking about Kurt. The images of the small boy, shaking and sobbing and then walking in the hallways, shoulders slumped and straight faced. He didn’t want those pictures, he wanted pictures of happy Kurt, dancing and singing and rolling his eyes but then he started to feel stupid and selfish because Kurt probably wanted those things too.

But then he thought back to what Artie said and he told himself that he had made some pretty good points. If Kurt really wanted or needed help then he would ask for help. It made sense. He was strong and he didn’t need anyone yet right? There was no reason for him to beat himself up over his actions right? He was actually doing the right thing by giving Kurt his space and privacy.

That’s what he told himself so he could finally get to sleep but in the back of his mind and in the pit of his stomach he knew that it was only an excuse. And he knew that he was a horrible friend.

Kurt

Kurt felt his stomach lurch as he quickly uncurled himself from the ball he was in and reached over to grab a trash can before heaving into it. The taste of some hamburger still lingered in his mouth from when Karofsky had kissed him and it was making him sick. Everything about the situation was making him sick.

He was still shocked about what happened. Karofsky had kissed him. Karofsky had kissed him hard, it was wet and sloppy and forced and horrible. Karofsky had shoved his tongue and Kurt’s mouth and had kissed him. Karofsky had kissed him because he likes him. Karofsky had kissed him because he likes him and that’s also why he bullies him. Karofsky kissed him because Karofsky was gay.

It was all so confusing and it made his head hurt. He felt so violated and he didn’t know if he was more disgusted with his assaulter or with himself.

It had all happened so quickly. One minute he was in the hallway reading the word “courage” from a text that Blaine had sent him and then next minute he was shoved up against a locker by Karofsky’s hand. And then the next minute he was running down the hallway after Karofsky, forgetting about his phone and storming into the locker room. And then he was yelling and then he was kissed. And you would think that it wasn’t a big deal, he had been kissed and that meant that Karofsky liked him which was a good thing. Then maybe Karofsky would stop attacking him all the time right? Wrong.

It was a difficult thing to process but Kurt knew that Karofsky didn’t like him, he was confused and scared and he attacked Kurt because he was self conscious about his own sexuality. Maybe since Kurt was so open about being gay, he couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to, that made Karofsky jealous of him and that’s why he constantly bullied him.

And maybe Karofsky thought that he liked Kurt because he was the only openly gay person that he knew. He was just insecure and scared and he wasn’t sure about who he was and that’s why he had kissed him. And it was just a kiss, only one and no further. He shouldn’t be freaking out, he shouldn’t be worrying so much but he was also scared.

It could’ve gone further. He was pretty sure that Karofsky's actions counted as sexual assault but what if there was a next time. God he didn’t want there to be a next time but what if there was? And what if next time it wasn’t just a kiss? What if it was kissing? What if it was something more? What if next time Karofsky raped him? He had already stolen his first kiss (he told himself that Brittany didn't count for him) and that meant he could steal more. Please don’t let him steal more from me.

Everything had been taken from him and he didn’t have anything or anyone else. Finn had taken his dad from him and although he didn’t mind anymore it still caused a twinge of guilt and heart inside of him whenever he saw them sitting down together watching a football game or whenever Burt took Finn to a game. But whatever, he accepted it. His friends were drifting away from him. Or was he pushing them away? Maybe it was both but it was becoming more and more obvious everyday that they didn’t care about him. Mr. Schue made him sing with the boys even though the boys didn’t want him there and even though the boys still thought that he was a freak. He was sent away along with his ideas because they weren’t wanted, because he wasn’t wanted. Instead he ended up at some prep school where he met a boy named Blaine and that same boy was the reason that he had thought he could stand up for himself.

But Kurt couldn’t stand up for himself. And Kurt wasn’t Blaine or Finn or Rachel. He didn’t have any fight like Puck, Santana or Quinn. He wasn’t strong, he was weak and pathetic and cowardly and he couldn’t even fight for himself without coming out of the situation even more terrified and hurt then he was before. He wasn’t any good.

Kurt lifted his head up from the trashcan when he couldn’t get anything else to come up and curled back up in his ball. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. He knew that he was being slightly irrational seeing that Karofsky was in football practice and Kurt could get to his car without being noticed but he still stayed where he was. He knew that he would have to leave soon though since he had been there for a while and it was probably almost time for the team’s practice to be over. He probably looked like a mess and he didn’t want anyone to see him in the state that he was in. They would probably just tease him even more except for Finn, Puck, Sam, Mike and Artie who would just pressure him into giving them information that he knew he couldn’t share.

He knew that if he told anyone and the news spread that Karofsky would seriously hurt him, there was no doubt in his mind. Plus he wouldn’t dare even think of outing someone even if the situation had more to do with then just someone’s sexual orientation. So he was trapped. He had no one to talk to and he was scared that it would happen again, worse. What was he going to do?

What he always did. He was going to ignore it. It happened and he was still scarred and scared and he knew that wasn’t going to change but he could still try to ignore it as much as possible. He couldn’t tell anyone and he wouldn’t tell anyone. He would keep it to himself, bottled up in his body, a secret to be kept from everyone. And life would go on. Hopefully.

So telling himself the plan, he pushed himself up from the floor and grabbed his bag before practically running out of the locker room, down the hallway and out the door to his car. Of course it was raining outside because it was always running when something like this happened so Kurt got soaked but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore, he didn’t even matter. He just had to focus on surviving, doing whatever he needed to do to make it one more day. And then he could do what he always did. He could come home from school and go right to his room. He had stopped eating altogether and no one in his family seemed to notice or care so they left him alone. He could stay huddled up in his room for the rest of the evening, laying in his bed and crying or sometimes just looking straight ahead, as if he wasn’t even there. He didn’t even bother to turn on the TV to drown out the quietness of his room because the silence was good. He could break down and no one would notice.

And that was fine. He didn’t want them to notice and he didn’t want anyone’s pity. He knew where he belonged and he knew that no one cared about him. He could keep everything to himself and he could pretend he didn’t exist. He didn’t want to exist anymore.

#glee #glee fanfiction #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #kurtbastian

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teaand-dreams · 3 years

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Hey, Kath! Firstly, I just want to say congrats again on your milestone! I hope it leads to many more followers, because your writing is amazing, to be quite honest.

Anyway, I figured I’d pop in your ask box again and ask for a 💜 ship. May I get a ship for Titans with a guy? (DC has me in a chokehold, and the only way to cope is to think about alternate universe me.)

If it helps, I’m a Slytherin. I love to read, write, play solitaire, analyze/dissect media and cry over the implications of it, and listen to musicals. I’m quite introverted and not at all trusting, so it can be hard to get to know me at first, but when I warm up to you, I am very loyal and would kill for you. I’m really competitive, and while I don’t make a big deal about it, I will quietly destroy you by any means necessary (play poker with me at your own risk). I have the ability to be cold when I want to be (I hear it’s bad™ when I ice someone out or ghost them) but I also easily adopt a caretaker role in my group of friends. I will 100% let you vent your struggles and give you good, solicited advice. My love language is most definitely quality time, so come sit next to me on the couch and just vibe! We can talk about your day, read books in silence, or ramble about Game of Thrones for 3+ hours. I do all of those religiously.

Congrats on your milestone, again! It's what you deserve.

Aw, thank you Olive!

I ship you with Jason Todd! Rachel would be your best friend.

How you met:

You met Jason through Rachel. You and Rachel grew up in the same city, and when she left you decided to follow her. She called you one day and told you she was in San Francisco, so you met her there.

She let you up into the tower, with Dick's permission of course, and as she was giving you a tour Gar and Jason showed up. Gar was very excited to meet you because of how close he was to Rachel, and made it his mission to become friends with you as well. Jason, on the other hand, just wanted to know why Dick had cancelled their training for the day.

When he saw you walking around with Rachel, his first thought was ‘why is there a civilian in the tower and why are they disrupting our training schedule?’ Needless to say, Jason did not keep these thoughts to himself. Rachel quickly got mad at him, and as she and Gar scolded him you heard his name for the first time.

How you fell in love:

So, obviously you and Jason didn’t start out on the right foot. After your disastrous first meeting with him, Rachel and Gar took precautions to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible. Though Rachel was tempted to let you mess with his food and drinks, she knew Dick would get mad at her if anything too bad happened to Jason, so the most she let you do the mess with him was setting up hidden alarm clocks around his room that would go off at different times throughout the night. When Jason entered the kitchen the next morning, exhausted and fuming, you only laughed.

In the early afternoon, Dick took Rachel and Gar out into the city. Rachel wanted you to go with, but you declined so you could watch a few episodes of Game of Thrones uninterrupted. You were halfway through your first episode when Jason knocked on your door. He asked if you were the one who’d hidden all those alarm clocks, and when you said yes he invited himself into your room and started talking about how that was the exact kind of prank he’d been wanting to pull on the rest of the Titans but hadn’t figured out how to do it without making it obvious he was the one pranking them. You started giving him a couple of tips, and eventually the two of you found yourselves talking about more than that.

The love between you and Jason grew for a long time after that; first, the two of you grew closer as friends. When the rest of the Titans ignored Jason’s problems, you let him rant and gave him advice. When Rachel began to avoid you so she could protect you from her powers, Jason helped you deal with the hole your best friend had left behind. Eventually, the two of you simply became so close that there was never a doubt that you loved each other; Jason taught you to fight, and you helped Jason find peace.

#olive #celebration #follower milestone #titans #jason todd

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years

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What are your headcanons/thoughts about Blaine (by episode) during season 6 after Kurt comes back to Lima? I've read your Finding KH meta and I think you nailed your interpretation of Kurt, but I've never been able to tell what was happening in Blaine's head. Obviously, there's some complex emotions going on- anger at Kurt, a bit of longing because Kurt wanted him back, sadness when Kurt tells Blaine about his date, etc. Season 6 Klaine was very much Kurt-centric. I want to know about Blaine.

Hi! So -- this is just, wow, a thesis of a question, lol! Which is fine! But it’s not a quick answer. So, yeah, let’s have a nice long conversation about Blaine and season 6. I’ll see if I can keep it concise for everyone, lol

Pre-Season 6

So, here’s what we know -- Kurt and Blaine broke up. And, there’s an interesting parallel to the previous break up. Before -- Kurt had too much faith in the relationship, and Blaine didn’t -- hence Blaine ultimately breaking the relationship. This time, Blaine has too much faith in the relationship, and Kurt doesn’t, hence Kurt breaking the relationship.

As we see in ep. 2, this sends Blaine into a tailspin downward into a deep depression. And while that sucks, I don’t think the break up is the worst thing that could have happened to him. Because, here’s the thing. Remember back in season 4, Burt said Blaine shouldn’t be marrying an idea -- but a person? Well - part of the reason for the break up is that Blaine was holding on, maybe too tightly, to this idea that if he and Kurt got married, that would solve all his problems and they’d live in a nice little fairy tale world of perfectness.

Well, real life doesn’t work like that -- and the break up kind of pushes Blaine to see that despite his best efforts, Kurt is a person (who really really hurt him) and marriage isn’t just an idea. It also forces Blaine to deal with some inner demons that he hadn’t before. When they broke up the first time, Blaine held on to his pursuit that he could get Kurt back. This time -- Blaine is under the impression that it’s done and over. That’s it. And for the first time (ever in his adult life) Blaine is forced to face a reality that he has to function as his own person (that’s a good thing).

As we see in the flashback, Blaine’s downward spiraled into depression (something that he’s struggled with off and on throughout the series, and unlike Kurt who has bouts of situation depression, my headcanon for Blaine is that he’s dealt with a longstanding, low key depression most of the time we see him). He isn’t really able to /do/ anything for a while -- until he works his way up from it, starts to go to therapy, and starts to work on himself.

He ends up moving forwards and backwards at the same time. On the one hand, he begins changing things up, playing with his hair and wardrobe, going outside his usual norms such as dating someone like Karofsky. Meanwhile, he goes backwards in that he retreats back to Dalton -- it’s a reset (as well as narratively for the show, which is resetting back to season 2 rules). It’s a safe place for him -- the place where he last felt the happiest, and yet, it is also a place that holds him back. That’s fine, for now, as he’s using it as a place of healing. The ironic part is that this is the place where he can’t quite get rid of the ghosts of Kurt -- this is where they met, fell in love, and where Blaine proposed. No matter how hard Blaine tries - he won’t truly be over Kurt until he leaves Blaine behind. (Lucky for us, he doesn’t choose to.)

Loser Like Me

By the time we meet up with Blaine in Loser Like Me, we see that he’s doing relatively well -- more so than Kurt because he’s had a lot of time to process the break-up and work on himself. One of the things that comes out of all the therapy, and coming to terms with living without Kurt (or, really, any guy) is that he knows he can make it on his own - and that’s a good thing! And while he’s sad about how things ended with Kurt (and still very angry in the manner in which Kurt did it), he’s in a decent place.

He’s happy coaching the Warblers (even if it’s a distraction) and he’s relatively happy dating Karofsky. I made a whole post about why Blaine dates Karofsky and you can FIND IT HERE. Like everyone in this episode (notice the episode only focuses on the ‘losers’ of this show) Blaine is not at his final stop in life. The whole point of this first episode is to show everyone coming to a cross roads where they need to pick themselves up and start again so they can eventually reach the destiny they were went to be - at the end of the season.

One thing Blaine mentions in the first episode is that he was kicked out of NYADA. This is also a thing heavy on his mind, but it’s not a bad thing! NYADA was Kurt’s dream (and really a scam school) -- and in order for the two of them to be individuals in their relationship again, Blaine finding a new place to go to school -- in turn finding his own path in life -- is healthy for their relationship. It just happens to be sucky at the moment.

So, I go into the final Klaine scene a lot during the Kurt meta, but to touch upon it a little from Blaine’s side....

So, keep in mind that Rachel sets this up -- and probably doesn’t tell Blaine much as to why Kurt wants to see him. This is probably the first time Kurt and Blaine have seen each other since the break up -- and probably the first time they’ve been in contact whenever Blaine left the loft. Remember -- Blaine wasn’t just upset about the break up, he was angry that Kurt so ruthlessly and seemingly uncaringly broke his heart. There’s a lot of anger still festering there -- as much as he’s dealt with the fact that he’s on his own now, he hasn’t dealt with his leftover feelings for and about Kurt.

He’s probably of mind that Kurt’s coming to tell him how wonderful his life is now that they’re apart, and how great New York is, and how it’s better that they called off the wedding. So, Blaine’s prepped to engage in this --- bringing Karofsky is one part shield for Blaine and one part shoving him in Kurt’s face to say that he has also moved on and is “fine”. What he doesn’t expect is what actually happens.

When they meet up Kurt lays it out on the line -- he is not only seeking out Blaine’s forgiveness, but he came back to win Blaine’s heart. And Blaine is a little... whoa, what??? Cause that is not what he intended to happen. Blaine plays it cool -- because as much as his heart is probably -- yup, let’s do it -- he’s gotten hurt, too, and he’s not going to forgive Kurt so easily.

And then there’s also Karofsky to consider. He does like Karofsky, and everything is easier with Karofsky, and he can take the easy road that isn’t as satisfying, or risk his heart getting broken again with Kurt. He’s definitely not ready to take that risk. So they all go through the little charade of Karofsky being cutesy. But it doesn’t go unnoticed by Blaine how much the idea of Blaine with someone else -- especially Blaine with Karofsky -- hurts Kurt. Blaine had probably liked the idea that Kurt would not be thrilled with the idea, but actually hurting him -- Blaine doesn’t like the taste of it as much as he thought he might.

I also want to mention, probably as the night grows to a close, and Kurt and Blaine maybe have a moment alone -- this is when Kurt might retract a little and use his typical defense of -- maybe we’re better off being friends. WHICH IS TOTALLY FALSE THEY SUCK AT BEING FRIENDS -- but Blaine probably half-heartedly agrees, and they all try to move forward from it.

Homecoming

So - we play a lot of catch up with Blaine in this episode -- which I detailed more so above. A lot of this episode is Blaine with the Warbers, and helping the new student - Jane - becoming one of the Warblers. A couple of things to point out with this...

First of all... we get to see Blaine as a teacher, and how he’s a good guy, willing to put all of himself into a thing, even if it’s not going to work out (more on that in a second). We see that -- despite his thoughts that Dalton never changes, we see that it indeed does! Not only is he out of touch with this wacky group of Warblers, but he’ll be able to get them to change a tradition and let a girl into the group. Despite Blaine claiming he’s happy with his life staying the same as it is -- he’s still at a crossroads at his life, and things are going to change. Kurt coming back into town set things in motion, and whether he likes it or not, his life can’t stay the same as it was when he was back in high school.

Blaine is a bit distant to Kurt in this episode. In the beginning, he mostly ignores Kurt -- as a way to just not deal with him at all. Later on, he’s mad and frustrated that Jane has defected -- like I said earlier, he’s once again poured himself into a thing only to have it not work out. His anger that Kurt would be in on at this at all, let alone enjoying it, is him lashing out his anger over the break up that he’s still not over. (And it’s especially annoying that Kurt’s being kind and mature about the whole thing.)

We also see the emergence of sassy Blaine at the end -- Blaine isn’t going to back down and he isn’t going to play nice. And while it’s a tad on the dramatic side -- the point is, unlike whatever the hell Will has going on with Rachel, Blaine has learned to stand his ground and stand up to Kurt. And, while this thought might seem a little weird -- his pushing back against Kurt is actually a good thing! And even Kurt seems to be amused during the scene. It means that Blaine will allow himself to stand on his own two feet instead of just following whatever Kurt’s lead is. They’re getting to a place where they’re on equal footing instead of one of them seeing the other as an idyllic partner. It’s a better foundation for their later, more mature, relationship.

Meanwhile - we have Homecoming itself, where Blaine is seen cuddle up with Karofsky. It is his homecoming, too -- he did graduate from McKinley, but he does seem out of place there. Ironically, the song is about being ‘home’ -- but while everyone is literally home, they’re still on their journeys to where their real homes will be. With Rachel it’ll be New York. With Mercedes, it’ll be touring. With Kurt and Blaine, it’ll be each other. Kurt looks sadly on, but Blaine is, again, purposely ignoring Kurt and using Karofsky as his shield (and excuse) not to deal with the Kurt of it all.

I also want to take a quick second and talk about Blam! Because we don’t get a lot of it in this season. A lot of that is due to the fact that we’re playing by season 2 rules again, before Blaine and Sam were friends, and part of it is the nature that these plot lines don’t allow us to see much of it. But I do think Sam played a nice part in helping Blaine get out of his funk. Sam’s a good friend, and probably did everything he could to help Blaine on his feet again. And despite the fact that at the end of the season (reminding me a lot of how Kurt and Mercedes started to go their own way in season 2) Blaine and Sam are just on different paths. And that’s okay! I think their friendship means the world to both of them -- but they don’t need each other the way they did back in season 4. And that’s fine.

Jagged Little Tapestry

We don’t get to see Blaine much in this episode - but there’s still a little bit here for us to look into. First of all, Blaine and Kurt accidentally meet up at the sheet music store, and for a moment it’s like old times. Though - fascinatingly, they’re more adult in their interaction with each other. (I do think this entire story would make more sense set five years into the future, but I digress...) It’s funny, Blaine tried hard to play the grown up when he (and more so Kurt) weren’t ready. But there’s an easiness between them that really wasn’t there before -- they are adults now -- in these adult roles, and I think these two without the baggage of their past, would easily fall in line and in love with each other if they were meeting for the first time.

Unfortunately, the baggage named Karofsky is still around. But what is different is that Blaine doesn’t need the shield (roadblock) that is Karofsky as much as he did. Blaine feels... a little embarrassed by Karofsky now, and the more he and Kurt begin to reconcile, the less Karofsky feels like an actual option for romantic partner.

But here’s the thing -- as we see in this shared fantasy of a song, Blaine begins to look back through all his old memories of Kurt, as they haunt him as much as they haunt Kurt. There were good times, and Blaine’s beginning to remember that. There’s still a lot of pain, too, though, which is why Blaine doesn’t just ditch Karofsky right there.

So -- Blaine does the dumbest thing ever, and moves in with Karofsky. Here’s my headcanon around that... I’m guessing it’s not entirely out of the blue -- Blaine probably still lives at home, as probably so does Karofsky, and I’m sure Karofsky floated the idea out there. It’s an enticing offer to Blaine even without Kurt in the picture. He likes being in a solid relationship like that. He likes the domesticity of it. And while it’s totally playhousing again (oh Blaine), by the time Kurt comes around -- Blaine decides to move full forward with the idea.

In a way -- it’s his (bad) attempt of fully moving on from Kurt -- see Kurt, I can totally be fine without you. And Karofsky’s an easy enough partner that he’ll just go with the flow. Blaine gets his mock domestic life, and a shield against the pain of Kurt. Is it real? Not really -- if Brittany’s decorations say anything -- other than gay-diddy-gay-gay-gay, they say -- not a real home, but a mock up of one. (Did she do this on purpose? I’ll let you decide.)

The Hurt Locker pt. 1

And we get more Sassy Blaine - telling Rachel like it is. And, again, I reiterate that this is a good thing. Blaine’s still that charming, debonair guy we all know and love. But he’s not afraid to speak his mind anymore, that’s a good thing.

So -- now we get to start seeing all the cracks in the Blaine/Karofsky facade. Yes, Sue is a meddling, pain in the ass, but even without her, the fact that this is still a rebound for Blaine is still there. I truly believe that everything that happens between Kurt and Blaine would have still happened -- only at a much slower rate.

So, yeah, before we get Sue showing up at the date, we get Blaine and Karofsky chatting -- and Blaine talking about how much Karofsky has grown. Part of this is exposition to fill us viewers in as to why the fuck this even happened in the first place, but, it’s also there for Blaine to continue to convince himself that Karofsky is a decent guy whom he’s actively choosing over Kurt.

Then Sue shows up and starts making things awkward -- look, there’s all of Karofsky’s old baggage -- clearly, that’s not something they’ve talked about before. What is Karofsky getting out of this relationship? And why has he slept with half the guys in Lima? Is Karofsky even the guy Blaine’s wanting (needing) him to be? And then Sue sews the seeds that they’re related. Which... ew.

Speaking of ew, let’s take a second and talk about Blaine and Karofsky having sex! Okay, now that I’ve lost a majority of you, lol, yes, they’re definitely having it. Yes, it’s probably like a Uhaul mounting a Moped. Look - they’re both adults who enjoy sex, and Blaine definitely is going to jump head first into that kind of thing. As much as we don’t want to think about it, they have that aspect to their relationship. That said -- is it any good? Meh. It serves its purpose - but I don’t think that’s any kind of defining point in their relationship. And in fact, I’m guessing Blaine ends up liking to cuddle way more than he enjoys the sex.

Anyway.... after this disaster of a date, who does Blaine end up talking to? Kurt. Why? Because at this point -- they’ve slowly started to let each other into their lives again. I do think they’ve slowly begun to chat with each other again - though it’s about mundane things. Not the deeper aspects of their lives. No matter how hard they try, though, they can never really get that far out of each other’s orbit. At the end of the day -- Blaine and Kurt were best friends before they ever dated, and that was one of the foundations of their relationship. It’s interesting -- but something the creators (and Darren and Chris) said at the time that no matter what happens between them, they have a unbreakable bond of friendship that goes deeper than fractured romantic relationship. They are fundamentally apart of each other’s lives, and /like/ each other -- which at the end of the day -- is what truly makes their later, fully committing relationship work.

So, Blaine goes on about Sue, and unintentionally reveals the cracks in his and Karofsky’s relationship. Kurt doesn’t say it, and Blaine doesn’t fully grasp it yet, but Blaine’s complaining is more than Sue’s meddling. It’s more so the fact that Blaine and Karofsky aren’t right for each other -- and Blaine’s finally beginning to see that. Sure, maybe possibly being related a zillion generations back and the fact that Karofsky has made his rounds are pretty superficial reasons to not be with Karofsky -- but the underlying theme is that Blaine’s not ultimately happy with him. His heart, as he’s about to get a reminder, is already taken.

Kurt then - in an honest attempt at maturity, tells Blaine he’s going on a date. And Blaine is uncomfortable -- why? Because for the first time, it’s no longer about their past, or Blaine’s anger, but the reality that if they don’t try again -- maybe this really is the end of the line for them. That thought is echoed when Blaine regurgitates Kurt’s line about being friends, and being each other’s first love is special, but not everything lasts.

The sad thing is -- the subtext of the scene is how much they really want each other here, but are both trying to save face. They are trying to move past each other -- but neither is really wanting to do that, even if Blaine isn’t ready to ditch Karofsky and be back with Kurt. Blaine then gets out of there before they’re really forced to deal with feelings

An interesting thought about their physical intimacy -- back in Loser Like Me, they shared an awkward hug, one where they had muscle memory of being each other’s lovers, but remembering they were, in fact, not together. Here, it’s not as awkward, but it’s still weird. It’s a sign, though, that they are getting more comfortable with each other again.

The Hurt Locker Part 2

Where I wax poetic about an elevator....

So, the important thing... before the Sue of it all, Kurt and Blaine meet up and chat -- the thing is, as they chat, they’re warm and comfortable with each other. There’s an ease going on that wasn’t seen in earlier episodes. What changed? Well - they’re fully getting back into each other’s lives at this point. Maybe they’ve talked a lot about how insane it is to be teachers, or Rachel as a crazy person, or Will being insane with VA. Maybe Kurt told Blaine all about his date with a dude who is older than his dad, and/or Kurt helped Blaine figure out if Karofsky really was related to him. Whatever happened in that week -- these two were already clearly on their way back to each other before Sue, as seen in the friendliness before we get to the elevator.

So -- I talk a lot about the elevator in my meta for Kurt: KURT META. A lot of it transfers to Blaine, so I’m not going to go into it as much here (read the meta!) -- but mostly, the elevator is a metaphor. It’s a place where they can recreate what their issues were with each other, and a place where they can take the other path and talk things out with each other. It’s a place where they can fall back in love with each other (not that they ever fell out of it) and a place where they can discover that they can deal with each other long term. It’s something that I do believe they would have discovered on their own -- but Sue just gave them the extra push.

In addition, the kiss is formative. It reawakens that sexual desire in Blaine -- that never really left (though Kurt feared it had) but plays upon the fact that it’s not just a friendship they have (or had) but a passionate and a lust for each other as well. They’re compatible not just as friends - but as lovers as well. And having physical contact in this way reignites something that never really went away -- but creates more cracks in their attempts to move on from each other.

(There’s a lot more going on here, clothes coming off like layers being unraveled, it’s all good -- I cover it in the Kurt meta - go read it!)

So in this bizarre set up, it’s kind of like a fantasy land where they can rediscover each other outside of the baggage of reality. Once the doors open - it’s back to reality, and the clothes go back on, and they have to go back to their regular lives. But something has shifted again -- as they share a smile during the Inventational.

And as they berate Sue on her kidnapping schemes, it’s clear that they’re friends again, and comfortable with each other. (Notice Blaine touching Kurt during their last scene together? This is purposeful as that layer of intimacy they’ve gotten back. It’s so delicious.) But even more so -- Kurt mentions being over the anger and resentment of the break up. While Blaine doesn’t say it, that speaks volumes. Blaine’s no longer angry with Kurt, because he’s finally put that particular pain behind him - whoo!

What the World Needs Now

There’s really not a whole lot going on here, and that’s fine -- they’ve had a lot of the season 6 story lines so far, I’m so used to them being so in the background that this seems par for the course. (Do you see why I find Season 6 so delicious when it comes to Klaine - we get so much!) Anyway, we get a sassy comment from Mercedes about Kurt and Blaine having to deal with each other, but the thing is -- they’re already pretty cool with each other.

And then we get the end -- where Blaine shows up... without Karofsky! Cause here’s the thing. Blaine dealt with his anger towards Kurt during the whole elevator thing -- he’s no longer angry at Kurt. He’s no longer harboring the baggage he was carrying around with him. And -- because of that, he no longer needs Karofsky as a shield. He and Kurt can hang and be cool with each other, and it’s okay, Blaine finds. He can let Kurt into his heart again, because he doesn’t fear being hurt.

Transitioning

This episode is for all those people worried that Sue meddling was what got Kurt and Blaine back together. It wasn’t -- this episode is what really did it. Had Sue not meddled, what goes down here probably would have still happened in its own time. Sue just helped speed up the process.

Also messing with fate? Kurt... I mean, look at that boy rig that wheel -- singing duets are a sacred thing on Glee, and he’s not going to let the opportunity slip by.

This episode, however, is mostly from Blaine’s POV as we finally get some insight as to what’s going on in his brain. He knows Kurt is screwing around with the wheel, and he’s a bit awkward because of it -- because he knows that duet, in Glee’s symbolic world, is more than a duet. It’s a reaffirmation of what they had. It’s an indication that Kurt’s still interesting and waiting. It’s a chance for Blaine to slip out of the Karofsky-armor he’s been carrying around and see what his heart really wants.

So, Rachel’s party - a ‘transitioning’ moment in time if you will. They goof around and have fun and are probably a little relaxed from the alcohol Sam is slipping them. (I’m a little iffy about that around minors but whatever...) And then they sing a flirty duet together. And then Blaine realizes... he’s gotta go. But not without confirming something for himself.

You see -- outside, when they are alone, it’s a chance for Blaine to realize his feelings and act to act on them. He needs to find out for himself -- not being pressured into it by a sadistic puppet if he still feels all the things for Kurt. And guess what -- they kiss, and he does!! Which is why he jettisons out of there so fast. He’s on the verge of letting Kurt all the way in again, and that’s scary! And there’s also the issue of Karofsky - but more on that in a second.

I need to say this -- look, I get that this story isn’t perfect. While I adore this conversation, it does look a little too towards the past, and not enough about how far they’ve come or the future together. I do wish Glee had done just a little more than pull on nostalgia strings, but alas, that’s where fanfiction comes in, so I’ll just do that myself, lol.

So, let’s talk about Karofsky! Or more so, I’m gonna copy and paste what I put in my Kurt Meta because I’m too lazy to write it all out again:

Obviously, Kurt’s not in this scene, but I feel the need to go over it, because it does, in part, pertain to Kurt. And because I think it’s a nice scene. I’m going to give Karofsky a little bit of credit here, and say he isn’t entirely dumb. He knows Blaine’s been acting weird, and he’s known that since Kurt’s been back in town, their relationship wouldn’t last that much longer. (So then why did you move in with him, weirdo?)

Blaine’s been feeling guilty - because Karofsky turned out to be an okay guy, and Blaine had convinced himself that he really had moved on past Kurt. Well, no, everyone and Karofsky could see otherwise. And Karofsky is pretty nice about the whole thing (which I think is to show just how much Karofsky has grown, too, over the years). He’s got a whole bunch of guys ready and willing to date him. It’ll suck - but Blaine can’t change his heart and more than Kurt can. So Karofsky let’s him go.

I think one of the interesting things in this conversation, is that Karofsky tells Blaine to just tell Kurt, not sing it. And I feel like that goes with the whole growing up theme. A lot of the time, these boys have sung their emotions through song - and that’s fine, but it’s also been part of the fantasy – but part of the Klaine narrative has been a shift from fantasy to reality, and this is one of the last parts. And Blaine’s ready to take that step - to grow up and be a real boy, and be okay in his not-ever-changing feelings towards Kurt.

So - Blaine gets running and goes for Kurt. How does he know Kurt’s there? Is this just after school? Why is Walter meeting him there of all places? Idk - the set up of this scene is a little awkward when you thinking about it too much, but I’m really not supposed to. The point is – Blaine is ready to confess his love to Kurt – again. He even wears the bowtie he wore at the proposal (do you think Kurt didn’t notice that? He did). But — one awkward little thing. Kurt’s about to go on a double date with Walter, Rachel, and Sam. So Blaine – doesn’t say anything. And actually – this is a good thing for Blaine! Honestly, it is – it shows growth. He let his life be dictated by his relationship with Kurt once, and he’s going to do what he didn’t before – let go and let it be. It’s not an appropriate time for Blaine to tell Kurt that he and Karofsky broke up. But even more so, it’s also not his place to intervene in Kurt’s dating life and more than it was Kurt’s to intervene in his relationship with Karofsky. Blaine’s trying to give Kurt the space he hadn’t given Kurt before.

Kurt lingers just a little as they all head out. He knows Blaine’s lying about being there for Rachel. There’s a little bit of longing there, and a lot of concern. And oh the angst is hard core in this moment, as Blaine just stands their alone. Kurt knows and is aware that Blaine’s feeling something. He’s ready for Blaine to say something. Look, Walter does not matter (and by the sound of it, Kurt’s been talking to Walter a lot about Blaine - since Walter clearly knows who he is, and is slightly feigning politeness when Blaine shows up). But Kurt’s ditched both Chandler and Adam pretty quickly for Blaine, and he’ll do it again with Walter. Just this scene – isn’t the right time.

If you’d like to read more about why Kurt continues to go on his date with Walter: READ META HERE. And if you’d like the continued conversation as to why Kurt and Blaine didn’t get back together at /that/ second, here’s my A Wedding Meta.

A Wedding

So, here we are -- at the wedding episode which is... slightly insane of Glee, but typical really.

Blaine came a long way -- he had to work through is feelings of anger and frustration over the break up, as well as feel at peace in being his own person, to really come back together with Kurt. (Kurt has his own journey as documented elsewhere.) And, the final ball lands in Kurt’s court, Blaine’s okay with waiting. Maybe they will get back together -- maybe they won’t. But Blaine’s become okay in not only his feelings but understanding that life maybe just doesn’t work out the way you want it to.

Or sometimes it does.

We see boxes of Karofsky’s stuff in the apartment -- meaning that the playtime is over. And then Kurt comes running back into Blaine’s life again -- desperate and sure about his love for Blaine. And Blaine just... let’s it all in. He’s ready and willing to let Kurt back into his arms, and into his heart, and they fall into just as if nothing had ever happened -- except it did -- they both managed to grow up a bit and be okay with themselves enough to be secure in their relationship.

So, um, yeah -- I’ll be the first to admit that there are a few missing pieces here that I would have liked to see. Mostly -- they kind of wall paper over their previous issues with Kurt’s line of - ‘everything was a mess before but now it’s fine’. And while I can piece it all together from subtext from what we’ve seen -- it still would have been nice to actually see that conversation where they talk about being in a relationship again, and how they’re going to move forward. Alas.

That said -- I don’t think it’s insanity that they go from getting together to jumping into a marriage. (I mean - it is insane - and not some thing that I’d recommend in reality) But one of the things that I think the marriage does is solidify their commitment for each other. The ring around their finger is a reminder that they’re in this together -- and I think that gives them both a security in the relationship. Blaine’s feeling committed and good, and therefore he doesn’t get clingy, which means Kurt won’t pull away, which means Blaine won’t freak out, etc, etc -- the cycle is spinning in a good direction!

Okay, most of the stuff about the Wedding, I’ve said in the Kurt meta already (go read that, too! - or I can answer specifics, this is getting long enough, lol) The only other thing I want to mention is Blaine letting Kurt make the ultimate decision to get married. Because now that they’re happy and back on track -- Blaine’s back to being, well, the one who always wanted to be married. And he still does -- so he let’s Kurt be the one to call it -- because Kurt’s the one who said he didn’t want to be married before. But we’ve come full circle, and when push comes to shove - at the end of the day, Kurt does want to be married to Blaine.

(Oh, and here’s the part where I make the obligatory comment -- Brittany and Sue didn’t force them into this either -- they could have said no had they not wanted to.)

Child Star/The Rise and Fall of Sue Sylvester

Well, here’s the part where I joke about us not being able to see Klaine’s honeymoon, and where I lament that we really don’t get to see much of anything about Klaine’s marriage. Which is unfortunate.

But - let’s talk about Dalton burning down for a second, because I do think that’s important. Remember when Pavarotti died and Kurt was set free from Dalton? Well this is the universe (coughthewriterscough) doing a similar thing. There is no more Dalton -- no more safe place for Blaine to go -- he’s literally forced out of the cage he had built for himself. And granted, he’s on the path to leaving anyway now that he’s back with Kurt, but it’s an interesting metaphor all the same. And yeah - it’s more so about bringing Dalton and McKinley together, too -- but Blaine’s being pushed out of the nest, literally, to go off and fly away. ;)

We Built This Glee Club

There’s really not much Blaine here, either - but Kurt later confirms that Blaine has gotten accepted to NYU -- and while I really wish we could have gotten more of Blaine’s story about how he decided where and why and when he was going to go back to school, at least we get this little bit. And like I said way earlier -- this is good for Blaine. He’s got his marriage, and his life is back on track moving in a forward direction -- and NYU is a great fit for Blaine, because it’s a place where he can stand on his own, separate from Kurt.

There’s also a bit, too, a slight (literal) nod at the future - where Will talks about the future - and the idea of their future kids, and Blaine and Kurt share a knowing look.

2009/Dreams Come True

Well... here we are, at the end of the story. I’m not going to say too much (cause I’ve said too much already) but mostly -- Blaine (and Kurt) get their happily ever after. They take off New York and live their life and are successful in their own right as they expect a daughter.

The point of the entire season is to not give us fans everything we ever wanted -- but to tell a story... one about how you can be the lowest part of your life and climb your way back up, and still be happy and successful and get the ending that you’ve always wanted.

(And, unceremoniously, here’s the Kurt Meta again - which mostly gives my Blaine thoughts, too -- cause, love ya Nonny, but I’ve been writing all day, and I’m tired, lol)

And that’s... all I’ve got. I mean if you’d like to untangle something more specific, let me know! I’ll be happy to answer. Hopefully, this makes Blaine’s season 6 story just a little bit clearer. :)

#Anonymous #that's how s.o. sees it #omg this was a lot #hope you guys enjoy #i worked on this all day - someone please at least give some feedback lol

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uzumakiusagi26 · 4 years

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Hi @macrauchenia! Here is your gift for @tog-secret-santa! Hope you like it!

A day from a leader's life!

Summary: Rak is a great leader and has many responsibilities. It's not always easy to take care of them, but is nothing he can't he handle.

Warning: This story take place in the Season 3 of the webtoon so it contains some spoilers.

Rak Wraithraiser is the great leader of the most known team from the Tower. Rak knows that, as a big and fantastic leader like him, he has a lot of important things to do every day. It's hard, but he is strong and he wants to get stronger.

And because he has so many things to do he made a list:

1.Go to sleep early so you can get stronger

2.Wake up early so you can get stronger

3.Drink water so you can get stronger

4.Eat so you can get stronger

5.Train so you can get stronger

6.Get stronger so you can be stronger and so you can punch blue turtle when he makes fun of you

These are his normal duties every day. Simple, but helpful.

But as a great leader, he has more duties than the normal ones. Because a leader has to make sure his teammates are in a good condition.

Sounds easy? Well..most of it is easy.

He has good teammates. The warrior turtle and tracksuit turtle are the most responsible turtles from his team. They know the importance of a good schedule and they take care of their health as everyone should do. The red turtle and useless turtle don't disturb Rak, because even if they don't do much, they eat and drink as much as not to make Rak worry for their health. The lizard and the ghost eyeball turtle are making his life hard sometimes but is nothing he can't deal with. Even the new turtles that joined their team, like the big-eyed turtle, are having normal schedules so Rak doesn't have to worry about them.

But in every team exist the black sheep. In Rak's team, these black sheep are a certain blue turtle and black turtle. Rak is 100% sure that two turtles never heard about a good schedule before or about taking care of their health. Oh, no! Because these two are the most self-sacrificing, STUPID turtles Rak ever seen.

Every day, he has to take care of them to not push themself too much and every day Rak feels he lose his sanity a little bit more.

But as a responsible person, he made a list of how to take care of the two idiots too.

First, he has to wake both of them up. This is the easiest part because the three of them go to sleep together, so he knows his turtles slept enough to have the energy for the day. But sometimes, they like to fuck his brain cells and that morning was one of these special times in which Rak knew his sanity will deteriorate.

When Rak woke up, no one was in the room. He sighed knowing what is going to happen and went down to the kitchen.

Exactly as he expected, the blue turtle was typing on his light-sparkling cube with a mug in his hand and the black turtle was arranging on the table the plates with food.

"Black turtle, you made the breakfast for everyone...again?"

"...yes"

"From when are you awake?"

"Uhm...5 minutes?"

"YOU CAN'T MAKE BREAKFAST FOR EVERYONE IN 5 MINUTES!"

Rak felt a vein was going to explode. He approached by Khun and looked straight in his eyes.

"And you, blue turtle? When did you wake up?"

"10 minutes ago and I made myself some coffee! Now leave me alone, stupid gator.

Rak looked around and spotted on table three other empty mugs in which he was sure there was coffee. Rak felt his blood boiling.

"That's your fourth coffee, blue turtle!" Rak said and Khun twitched. Rak knew he caught Khun with the lie. He wanted to punch both of them, but he refrained.

"....I can drink 4 coffees in 10 minutes!"

"THAT'S WORSE!"

Rak grabbed with his claws the two boys and threw them back in the bedroom, ignoring their complaints.

"Each turtle needs to sleep for 8 hours! Go back to sleep! I'll wake you in an hour!" He heard the two groan, but Rak knew they were going to do what Rak told them. Even if they do stupid things like this, Rak can trust his turtles.

"Stupid turtles, ruining my schedule!" Rak murmured, going back in the kitchen to make sure his other teammates turtles are taking care of themself.

The second thing he has to do is to make sure the two turtles eat properly. And this is where the chaos starts.

Black turtle doesn't have a big problem with eating adequately. He learned in FUG the importance of three meals in a day and 2-3 snacks. The black turtle's biggest problem is that he forgets to drink water. But this problem is always quickly resolved by Rak throwing a bottle of water in the black turtles' head and says: "Drink it!".

Instead, the blue turtle is eating his days! If Rak can make that idiot have three meals a day he can consider it a big victory.

"BLUE TURTLE THAT'S YOUR FIFTH COFFEE AND YOU HAVEN'T EATEN ANYTHING YET!"

"I am not hungry! I'll eat later."

"THEN STOP DRINK COFFE!"

"I need coffee to function!"

"EAT SOMETHING AND DRINK WATER!"

"NO!"

Rak feels his blood boiling. If this is how he wants to play, then let's have fun.

"Gator what are doing? PUT ME DOWN!"

"Blue turtle refuses to eat, then I have to make him do it."

"I already have told you I am not hungry...mhmp!" Khun couldn't finish his sentence, because Rak shoved a spoon with food. (because the others can't cook, all the food was prepared by Bam, so no one was poisoned!)

"If the blue turtle doesn't want to eat alone, I have to force him! You can try to escape, but nor you nor I will leave this place until the plate is empty. Oh, I almost forgot about the water."

"Gator..."

"More you complain more we will stay here!"

Khun shut up and ate.

The third thing Rak has to do is to make sure his turtles are training in a proper way. And by a proper way, he means he has to make sure these stupid turtles don't overwork themself.

At this part, the blue turtle is more reasonable, because even with his firefish, his stamina is not the best. Khun's problem is when he is working on his lighthouse too much, but Rak knows how to handle this. All he has to do is throw himself on the lighthouse and Khun will stop, because he knows Rak will do that again if he continues his work. On the other place, the black turtle... likes to eat Rak's brain cells.

"Black turtle, the training finished! Why are you still here?"

"Huh? Oh, uhm...I wanted to practice a bit more, so I remained after you all left."

"Wait...you were here all this time?"

"...maybe."

"THE TRAINING FINISHED 4 HOURS AGO!"

"Uhm...yeah, but I really need to practice this attack more so I can b able to use it in the next battle..."

"I DO NOT CARE! IF I CAN FORCE BLUE TURTLE TO EAT, I CAN FORCE BLACK TURTLE TO STOP TRAINING TOO!"

Rak took Bam and put him over his own shoulder and left the training room. Bam said nothing, knowing the fact that even the smallest sound will make Rak even angrier.

The fourth thing Rak has to do is to make sure his turtles go to sleep at a decent hour. This is both the duty Rak detest the most and the one that makes Rak's life a living hell. Why? Because those two can go 3 days without sleeping if Rak wouldn't be there. But even if it is hard, Rak has a perfect plan.

The first step is to find the two turtles. This is the easiest part because he knows exactly where they can be. If they are not in the kitchen or their room then...

Bam is, again, in the training room.

"Black turtle?"

Bam looked at his friend a little scared, knowing Rak is going to scream at him.

"Time to sleep."

"It's just 11 pm! I am not tired so I'll stay..."

"I DIDN'T ASK IF YOU ARE TIRED OR NOT! I SAID IT'S TIME TO SLEEP, I DIDN'T ASK IF 'YOU WANT TO GO TO SLEEP'!" Rak grabbed Bam by his waist with his claw and took him up going to get the blue turtle. Bam said nothing more.

Khun could be in just one place...his office.

"Blue turtle, time to sleep!"

"You don't know to knock at the door? And what are doing with Bam?"

"The same thing I am going to do with you too...put you to sleep."

"What? You are not my mother. I can go to sleep when I want!"

"You understood wrong, just like the black, turtle so I will explain again: I DIDN'T ASK IF YOU WANT OR NOT TO GO TO SLEEP!"

Rak took Khun in the same way he took Bam and went to their room, throwing the two boys in their beds.

"Ugh...gator! I have plans and strategies for the war to do! I don't have time to play with you!"

"Khun..calm down a bit, please. I don't Rak is playing."

"Black turtle is right, blue turtle! Now go to sleep!"

Here comes the second step begins: Make these two sleep.

"I said sleep!"

"We can't fall asleep in 5 minutes, gator!"

"IT PASSED AN HOUR ALREADY!"

"Sorry, Rak...me and Khun aren't used to go to sleep this early!"

"Yeah...I mostly go to sleep at 4 am."

"Same or an hour earlier."

"THIS IS NOT A PROPERLY, GOOD AND RESPONSIBLE BEHAVIOR! You two sleep or I will apply force and I am sure none of us want this scenario to happen, but if I have to I will."

Another hour passed and finally, to Rak's happiness, his turtles fell asleep. Rak sighed and took two blankets and covered Khun and Bam. He sat down on the floor, looking at them, his eyes softened at the sight of the two sleeping boys.

Rak finished all his duties so, he can finally relax. He kissed the two boy's foreheads and stayed in the silence of the night, the only noise that could be heard was their heartbeats.

As he always does, Rak stays and looks at Khun and Bam, and remembered everything they went through. He remembered how many times he almost lost them, how they thought Bam was dead for 7 years, how Khun became cold and closed his feelings in him. How Bam was hurt by Rachel again. How he almost lost Khun because of Rachel and how for two years he was in a coma. He almost lost the blue turtle again after they woke him up. His turtles are always in danger and Rak...and Rak is afraid that he will lose them.

Tears were falling from Rak's red eyes because just when he is alone with the night he can give free rein to the emotions he hid in his big heart because behind his mask of a strong leader, Rak was a good friend who cares about his two precious turtles.

And...as in every night, he put his claws on the two sleeping boys' hearts, wanting to make sure these two are still there with him. He was watching at them and said:

"God Turtle...if you really exist, please listen to my prayer. I will make sure these two will eat and drink water. I will make sure they won't overwork themself and I will make sure they will sleep 8 hours. I will make sure they are not hurt. I will take care of their health. I will even make these two idiots realize they are in love with each other. I will get stronger so I can protect them. I will fight for their safety. I will do all of these things so please God Turtle...please...if you really are there...if you really exist...please...I'll do everything I need to do to take care of them so please...don't take blue turtle and black turtle away from me again."

#tower of god secret santa #dec 21 #fanfic #fanfiction

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1337wtfomgbbq · 3 years

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I gotta rant for a second here. I hate this app. Okay maybe not this whole app, more the people on here. Specifically the people in the supernatural community. Yes talking to you. I can’t believe I’m even back into this with you guys.

I know people can pick and chose which characters they like and which they dislike. I know, for some trauma and whathaveyou also plays into what they feel towards a character.

But I am just so mad. I’m on a little bit of a rewatch, as you are, of season 1 to 3 (maybe some episodes of 4 and 5) because those are the only good seasons, and I just wanna look at some posts of my favorite character.

But my favorite character happens to be John.

TLDR: John's character is complex as fuck and people like to oversimplify and villify him, for no reason other than „BuT My DaAAadYY WaS ShiTTy!!!!“

And I get it. People on here disregard season 1-3, even the writers disregarded what JDM wanted John to be: “I don’t think he’s as screwed-up as other people do,” Morgan told EW. “I think he is a guy who’s got a tremendous amount of love for his family. He was willing to die for his sons, willing to put himself in a place to where he could lose his life for revenge on what killed his wife. So as much has been said about John or that I’ve heard about John, I think what is missing is that he shows love in different ways. Maybe he wasn’t a big hugger and he didn’t say the right things when he should’ve — and there’s a bigger picture about getting your kids into hunting ghosts that I should acknowledge — but I think at his core he really loved his family and was willing to sacrifice everything. So I never looked or played John in a way that there was any malice toward his sons.”

People project what went wrong in their lifes and with their fathers on this app SO HARD. To be fair they do that everywhere. But it's so infuriating when it's done to a character you love so much.

And as much as I wanna be understanding I am just so pissed.

Hear me out: Back when I first started watching supernatural (I was fucking 12 back then, can you believe that) and my friend was all „OMG Sam is such a treat. He's mine!“ I thought, okay I'm gonna take Dean then.

The coin finally dropped on me in 'Shadow' and I realized „Heck, screw Dean, I'm taking John!“ (Not that I told my friend that, LOL. I hadn't realized just then that I prefer older guys)

And attraction is one thing, but the character spoke to me on such a deep level too. I mean, you got a dude whos wife died in a way that he cannot explain in a rational way, only to have his eyes opened to the supernatural by Missouri. And it turns out whatever killed his wife also did some fucked up shit to his kid and is after, not only his youngest but, all of them.

So he's forced to take his kids on the run. But, he's also an ex-marine, he's a soldier and he can't leave other people to die at the hands and claws and teeth of monsters and ghosts and strigas and whathaveyou. Which leaves him struggling to ballance protecting and caring for his kids and saving people and hunting things, AND finding the thing that killed his wife.

The way John's situation was set up (ignoring for a second what we learn in later seasons) and the way Sam was brought up by him created a relationship that was bound to escalate; it was only a matter of time.

Season 1 to 3 we got a John that was distant and rough, but a John that recognized he fucked up along the way and who saught to rectify where he went wrong with his boys.

Season 1 episode 20: „You gotta understand something. After your mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you...prepared. Ready. Except somewhere along the line I ... uh ... I stopped being your father and I ... I became your, your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was, that you were gonna be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, it just... it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me -- We're just different.“

And guess what, Sam admits seconds later: „We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess... Well we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone.“

Season 1 episode 21: „I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.“

John literally on the show in person, Jeffrey Dean Morgan Season 1, admits that he didn't want ANYTHING OF WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHAT HE HAD TO DO TO HAPPEN!!!!

Sure, Sam suggested to Dean that John's just „working overtime on Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later“ in the very first episode but we never see John drink alcohol, for all he's on screen in season one, ONCE. (1x1) Suggesting that John did have a drinking problem but somewhere between Sam going off to college and the pilot he kicked that habit.

Sure, Sam is clearly vindictive BUT, when faced with a kid with a clearly abusive father, he also says that, „Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we coulda had Max' childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him.“ (1x14)

We see him cry on multible occasions in season one and two, we see him hug both Sam and Dean and tell BOTH OF THEM that he is proud of them. Heck, he couldn't shut up about how proud he was of them. Like Jerry told Sam in 1x4 „Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell, He talked about you all the time.“ He kept Sam's soccer trophie, and Dean's first sawed off. He fucking died to safe Dean.

Yeah, he told Dean that he'd have to kill Sam if he goes evil but...

Let's take into consideration season 4 and 5, and John wasn't all too wrong for telling Dean this. Even if we ignore all that, as John probably didn't have the full picture, John didn't knew the extend of Sam's powers. As is always said, „With great power comes great responsibility“. We have seen in comics, shows, movies, all over pop culture and history, how easily great power can corrupt, don't matter how nice and righteous that person is.

Let's take into consideration what was added in season 4 and 5: Like John having another family, the fact that cupid had to get him and Mary together, Mary making a deal with Azazel, the few demons (not even all of them) Lucifer showed Sam who had been put into his life by yellow eyes; even that just adds more credence to the already established character.

Of course John was bound to have flings after Mary, you can't expect a widower to just be celibate forever. And it wasn't even that he bailed on her, he literally didn't know there was a child until twelve years later.

And considering John's erratic 'work schedule' and how little we know of Kate, maybe it was her that wanted John not to have much contact to her son. The whole situation with Adam isn't exactly clear, and told through the eyes of a ghoul. Plus, we all saw where John's decision to leave Adam in the dark about the supernatural had him end up (namely killed by a ghoul).

The fact that cupid had to get John and Mary together only gives more ammunition for my argument that John was only working with what was given to him. Pretty much everyone from hell to heaven was meddling in his life.

Getting ahead with headcanons here but, for all we know John and Mary would've never ended up together; for all we know Mary was a lesbian and John was bi; for all we know they could've still worked out without cupid's help. Who knows? We don't because heaven took that decision away from both John and Mary.

The fact that Mary made a deal with Azazel to safe John's life in exchange for Azazel to be able to enter her home in ten years time, again, caused something to happen down the line that affected John and the boys that John had no control over.

And I gotta thank Lucifer for his part, because it gives EVEN MORE credence as to why John couldn't give Dean and Sam a normal life. He reveals SOME of the people Azazel planted into Sam's life that were actually possessed by demons.

„LUCIFER: Look closely. None of these little devils look familiar to you? SAM: That's Mr. Bensman... One of my grade-school teachers. LUCIFER: And that's your friend Doug from that time in East Lansing. And Rachel... your prom date. Sam Winchester, this is your life. Azazel's gang – watching you since you were a rugrat, jerking you around like a dog on a leash. I know how you feel about them. Me too. So, what do you say you and I blow off a little steam?“ (5x22)

A few episodes earlier we found out that his friend Brady, the one that introduced him to Jess, was actually possessed by a demon, and the one that fucking killed her.

„BRADY (chuckles): Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh... middle of our sophomore year?

SAM: What?

BRADY: That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.

SAM: You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch! (Sam approaches Brady, Dean holds him back) You introduced me to Jess!

BRADY: Ding, ding! I think he's got it!“ (5x20)

All of this paints a clear picture for me, of a man that got played by fate and heaven and hell and was only trying to play the cards all of them dealt him to the best of his ability. Did he fuck up along the way, yes, did he show remorse for that and did he wish he could've given Sam and Dean a better life, Yes.

I completely understand people liking one character and disliking another, even projecting onto characters I get. And I get that people's life experiances lead them to different conclusions.

But it pisses me off so much that I can't go into the 'John Winchester' tag without having to read some shit as fuck take on John.

I have to read people saying that he never told Dean he was proud of him and that the only time he did so he was possessed by Azazel. Which isn't even true, but a motherfucking lie.

Season 2, episode 1; when John WASN'T POSSESSED ANYMORE he said to Dean: „You know, when you were a kid... I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen... I'd be wrecked. And you... You'd come up to me... you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye. You'd say, "It's okay, Dad." Dean. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to say that to me. I should've been saying that to you. You know, I put... I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sam, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know... that I am so proud of you.“

I have to read people forget or disregard that John was literally a righteous man. Alastair tried to break John and John didn't break for a century and then clawed his way OUT OF HELL TO SAFE HIS SONS IN 2x22. John must've had righteousness in heaven (which would come through faith in Jesus) and righteousness on earth (which would come through living through the commandments) as long as that's what the writers meant with 'righteous man'.

I have to read stuff John would apparently do only because we learn in 'Dark side of the Moon' that John and Mary's marriage wasn't all sunshine and rainbows and that John even moved out for a period. Even though we don't know who caused that fight and what it was about, literally it could've been Mary's fault and John only left to cool off. And even if not, marriages aren't just sunshines and rainbows. Fights happen, bad stuff is worked out. That would be true even without the cupid spell.

I have to read someone projecting their experiance with their father onto John. I have to read about someone saying John would've been such a dick because he was in the military and fought in the vietnam war, and we all know that's what all sodiers back then were (dicks). I have to read about how homophobic and transphobic John obviously was. I have to read about how much John would've been racist to Sam and Dean if they'd been mixed.

John was born in 1954, he has to be homophobic and transphobic and racist and bigoted and everthing you can think of. It can't be possible for someone to be born during that time and not be, right. (I hope you recognize the sarcasm)

Everybody is screaming 'child abuse' as loud as they can without taking into account the unique world those characters inhabit and the situation fate, heaven and hell put John and the boys into.

Dean could dig himself out of his grave because John used to bury them alive and had them dig their way out of a coffin as training!!!? Are yall good?? Literally what did your parents do to you, what went wront in your life that you think shit like this?!

And I get it, you can headcanon all you want. I myself headcanon John as bi and that Azazel knew and used this fact.

The writers did John so dirty in later seasons, and I'm not even alone in this, JDM agrees with me.

„But it always bugged me that the John that I played is different than the John that has been portrayed since I haven't been around. I really wanted the opportunity to be able to come back and make amends in a way and try to fix the sullied name of this character. But more than that, it's three friends, life lived. It feels like we've been friends for a lifetime now, getting to reunite in a place that we love and that we met and do what we do and I think that is super cool. So not only does John win in getting to come back and see his boys and Mary again and hopefully make some amends, it's just as cool for me, the actor, to be able to come back and see everybody.“

I'm sorry, but if Snape fans are allowed to be pissed about people suggesting Snape would've been creeping on Harry if he had been female and looked like Lilly, I can be pissed about everybody and their grandma in this fucking fandom painting John in the worst light possible.

JDM created such a great character with depth and who was interesting, even in season 4 and 5 they were still respectfull to his character, but the later seasons were just *throws up *

And I mean, I get it, I disregard canon too. Like, I disregard everything after season 5, that's Sam hallucinating in hell to me. Sometimes even after season 3, cause I don't feel like dealing with the angels, and cas and destiel and all that.

I get it, I get it, I get it.

But I too have the right to be pissed off about the way people like to shit on my fav.

Long story short, I love John and how complex and grey his character is and I HATE IT how simple and 'black and white' people wanna make him out to be. I wanna punch a bitch. I wanna throw hands right now.

#supernatural #spn #john winchester #john winchester defense #john winchester defense squad #I am heated #I literally wanna throw hands right now #I wanna be understanding of you guys #but yall are *tears at hair *#I don't get yall

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