#owen is too ugly for everyone to be so in love with him

[ev1llesb1an]

fighting over a man? no they’re in love with EACH OTHER obviously 🙄

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: I Choose You

Request: Anonymous said: "jealous tyler or jealous reader would be interesting to read 👀"

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none!

A/N: not sure how i feel about this one but I gave it a go and wanted to make sure I posted!

Tyler tells himself that he’s over thinking… maybe even reading too much into things. 

But God, he swears he isn’t imagining the way that you and the reporter he’d agreed to let tag along for the next week naturally interact with one another with such ease. 

Tyler is not a jealous person– he’s confident and secure and he trusts you. Jealousy is petty and it’s stupid. And Tyler’s been trying his whole life to prove to himself and everyone around him that he’s not stupid.

Tyler has a loose shock to repair before the storm they’ve been tracking rolls in later that day. He’s currently laying on the dirt at the rest stop they’ve pulled in, with a wrench in his hand. Dani’s shining their flashlight for him, and it’s important he stays focused. And he tries… really, he does. 

But Tyler looks up just as the reporter laughs at a joke you’ve made. And then, he reaches out to touch your arm for the added effect. Tyler nearly drops the wrench he’s holding on his face at the sight. 

“Easy, T,” Dani says, studying him closely. 

He takes a deep breath before looking back towards the truck. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Dani asks, kicking his shoulder gently with their boot. 

“Nothing,” Tyler grumbles in a tone that screams there is absolutely something wrong. Thankfully Dani doesn’t push. 

…

Throughout the rest of the week, Tyler tries to talk himself down whenever jealousy rears its ugly head. He keeps telling himself that he’s being irrational– you’re not flirting with the reporter everytime you walk with him into the gas stations they stop at, or offer to ride with him in the van instead of Tyler’s truck, where you normally sit. You’re just trying to be friendly… make him feel at ease. 

But did he really have to look at you that way while you studied the GPS monitoring system? Or share his fucking cookies with you when everyone ate lunch in the field? And did you have to laugh so loudly at every single joke he made?

Tyler finds out on the second night he’s tagging along that Henry’s a fucking Columbia grad on top of a stupid self-proclaimed comedian. The two of you are sitting around the fire talking about graduate degrees when Henry turns towards him. 

“Did you two meet at school then?” Henry asks.  

Tyler smiles, but instead of warmth it’s laced with sarcasm. “Nope, I don’t have one of those fancy degrees, Henry. In fact, none of us but her do.” 

Henry turns back towards you and proceeds to ask more questions about your time studying meteorology at the U of A. Meanwhile, Tyler is left to simmer in his own self pity, wondering if it bothered you that he isn’t educated like Henry. 

Tyler has to spend the rest of the week fighting the urge to make it known you’re his– he’s had thoughts of keeping a permanent hand planted on your waist right in front of Henry. Maybe if he pulled you in for a kiss a little more often, and really claimed you as his, this guy would back the hell off. 

But Tyler quickly shakes away the thought. 

Because claiming you like an object is stupid, and Tyler is not stupid. 

…

Tyler grabs you a coffee from the nearest gas station and brings it back to the motel because he’s really trying to move past all this shit. You’re sitting with Lilly and fiddling with the drone when he tries to hand it to you. 

You offer him an appreciative smile that warms his entire chest. Tyler’s definitely been overreacting, because you’re looking at him with such love and admiration in your eyes. 

“Thanks, but I’ve already had some today,” you say, crushing every hope inside of him in an instant. “Why don’t you give it to Dani?  They take their coffee the same as I do.”

“When did you have time to get coffee?” he asks, trying to play it cool. 

You reply so simply, like the words don’t slice right through his heart. “I didn’t, Henry brought me one.”

Tyler’s jaw tightens. It’s a gesture you don’t notice, because you’re too busy focusing on the drone half in your lap. 

What you do seem to notice, is the way he scoffs. It makes yours and Lilly’s heads both turn. 

But before you can reply, Tyler’s already walking away. He clutches the coffee firmly in his hand and without a word, drops the full cup in the trash can outside the motel. 

…

Tyler has to remind himself that he’s not angry.

At least not at you.  

You and him have a great relationship. He trusts you and that’s all there is to it. Whether it’s Henry or whoever else–  you never gave Tyler a reason to be worried. 

But Tyler doesn’t like the way seeing you with the reporter makes him feel. Because at any moment, you could leave him for someone with a more respectable career– someone with fair skin and button up polos who just looked like they had their shit together. Someone with a college degree… someone a hell of a lot smarter than him. 

Seeing you with him made Tyler feel vulnerable, like he had something to lose– because he had everything to lose. 

…

The crew spends another week chasing in Oklahoma. The season’s winding down, but they still managed to catch two EF0s and an EF1. 

Tyler’s been avoiding you for most of the week. He’d offer the truck space to Boone and Lilly, he’d sit next to Dexter around the fire at night… hell, he would hardly even look at you. 

You turned down his coffee earlier in the week. Only after the fact did you realize that you should have just taken the damn thing. You understand that rejecting him after he went out of his way to do something nice for you hurt his feelings… But you can’t understand how that turned into an entire week of the silent treatment. 

On numerous instances, you try to approach him. But he always has somewhere to run off to. 

“I gotta help Dani with the van’s oil change.”

“I gotta see if Boone got the footage we need.”

“I gotta give Dexter a hand with the radar.”

You’re getting sick of it. 

You try to distract yourself for the rest of the week– you ask Lilly to explain more about how to work her drone, you keep on top of the radar– looking for forming storm cells, and you try to make the reporter Tyler had invited along for the week feel welcome. 

Henry’s nice– he’s completely new to storm chasing and has loads of questions all the time. You find it slightly annoying that he’s so interested in Tyler… but you get it. And even though you’re a little irritated with Tyler for your week-long silent-treatment sentence, you still want him to sound as good as possible in the article, so you talk him up every chance you can. 

You know that this lack of communication can’t last. And the second Henry goes back to Boston to write his piece, you plan to corner Tyler and force him into telling you what the hell you’d done wrong. But until then, you don’t want to cause a scene. So, you sit back, spend more time talking with Henry about Tyler, and try like hell not to lose your mind.

…

It’s more for his own sanity than anything. It’s like seeing you with Henry has caused this sudden realization to pop into his head… You can do better– and honestly you deserve better than him. The thought is all consuming. It makes focusing on anything else incredibly difficult. 

“You gonna tell us what the hell is up?” Lilly asks one day. 

Tyler’s currently standing in the bed of his truck, tinkering things that didn’t really need to be fixed just to stay busy. 

“What do you mean?” he replies without looking up.

“I mean are you going to tell us why you two love birds haven’t spoken in like three days?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler notices Boone glancing his way with an expression on his face that says he was wondering the same thing. 

“We’ve spoken,” Tyler says dismissively. 

“Telling her you don’t have room for her in the truck doesn’t count,” Lilly retorts. “C’mon, seriously, Ty. What’s wrong?”

Tyler sets his tool down and looks down at Lilly. “Nothing is wrong.”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Okay, well are you sure she knows that? Cause Dani and I saw her crying in the bathroom.” 

Tyler lets out a long exhale– the thought of you upset instantly filling his insides with sorrow. But the thought that he was the one to make you upset is even worse. 

“I know it’s not my business,” Lilly adds. “But I’ve been watching you give her the silent treatment all week, and that’s not going to fix anything. I know Henry’s still here and it’s been a crazy week–”

Tyler can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips at the mention of Henry’s name.

Lilly pauses before a look of understanding washes over her. “You’re pissed that she’s been hanging with Henry.” She says it as a statement instead of a question. 

“I’m not–”

“I’ve known you for six years, don’t even try to deny it. You are– you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

With his lips pursed in a thin line, Tyler raises an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I am. Does that make you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”

Now it was Lilly’s turn to scoff. “Of course it doesn’t make me happy. You’re being an idiot.”

“What?” 

“I said that you’re being an idiot,” Lilly says, annunciating each word insultingly. 

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “I’m well aware that I’m an idiot, but thanks for reminding me.”

“I said you’re being an idiot, Tyler. Not that you are one. Now stop sulking and fucking listen for once in your goddamn life.”

It’s so out of the ordinary for Lilly to snap that Tyler actually does shut his mouth. 

“You invite a reporter on the road with us and then you don’t give him the time of day to answer any of the questions he has. You’re short and curt and to be honest, kind of fucking rude anytime he asks you anything. Y/N is being polite– and she’s hosting the guest you invited along. So don’t fucking blame her just because you’re insecure.” 

Tyler can feel the anger rising in his own chest, he wants to get defensive– to snap back at Lilly. But deep down, he knows she’s right, so he stifles any comebacks and instead hangs his head. 

Lilly sighs. “You’re not an idiot, Tyler. So stop acting like one.”

…

After letting Lilly’s words really sink in, Tyler decides that she’s right. For the first time all week, he’s motivated to actually talk with you and make things right. 

Or at least he is right until he sees Henry approaching you in the parking lot. He’s too far away to hear what Henry has to say. But he’s not so far away that he doesn't see the folded up piece of paper that he passes you. 

In an instant, everything Lilly had said– along with all the things he’s said to convince himself he’s been overreacting flies away with the wind. Because Henry just gave you his fucking phone number. 

Tyler turns– needing to get as much space from whatever exchange he just witnessed as he possibly can. In a few, long, angry strides, Tyler reaches his truck and climbs inside. In the distance, he hears Lilly call after him. But he pretends he doesn’t hear. Instead, he slams the door shut, starts the ignition and drives away. 

…

“Where’s he goin’?” Boone says just as you approach him and the rest of the crew. 

“Dunno. He didn’t say anything to you?” Dani asks, turning towards Lilly. 

She shakes her head, eyes squinting against the bright sun. 

“What the hell is his problem?” you say frustratedly, biting back tears. 

Stupidly, you’d let yourself get your hopes up earlier in the day when Tyler had offered you a small smile over breakfast. You had thought that maybe things were alright, and that he was finally over whatever had been bothering him so badly. 

But now you’re standing in the cloud of dust he just left behind after taking off in his truck without a word to anyone and you know that isn’t the case. 

“Here I was thinking I helped last night,” Lilly says under her breath. 

You snap your head in her direction. “You talked to him?”

She shrugs. “I tried to.” 

“Did he say why he’s been so upset?”

Lilly hesitates. And truthfully, you understand why. Everyone here was Tyler’s friend first. You were the last to join the crew– inducted into the group just by being Tyler’s girlfriend. They have no obligation to be loyal to you over Tyler. 

“Forget it,” you say defeatedly, turning away as soon as you feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes. “It doesn’t even matter.” With that, you make your way towards the RV, painfully aware of everyone’s eyes trained on you the entire way. 

…

Tyler drives to the nearest gas station, desperate for space to clear his head. 

He knows he’s being dramatic and irrational at this point, but if he stayed at that rest stop another second, he didn’t know what would come out of his mouth. He really really had to get it together. But he can’t escape the fear inside of him– the one saying that meeting Henry helped you recognize that you could do so much better than him.

And now you had his phone number, to reach out whenever that realization hit. 

Why wouldn’t you be interested in Henry? He’s got a goddamn master’s degree from Columbia, he writes articles for the Globe, works out every morning before they go chasing–  apparently makes hilarious jokes… 

Tyler rests his forehead against the steering wheel and groans.

…

Tyler’s gone for an hour. But when he finally parks the truck back at the rest stop, he hasn’t shaken the sinking feeling inside of him. 

In a preemptive attempt to avoid questions he had snagged a bunch of snacks from the nearest gas station. If you ask where he’s been, he can just say he had a hankering for potato chips and call it good. 

Except, you don’t even look at him when he gets out of the truck. Boone’s got corn hole set up in the dirt. It looks like Boone and Henry versus Dani and Dexter while you watch. He only watches for a moment before bringing the bag of snacks into the RV. 

Secretly, Tyler’s been simultaneously excited for and dreading the end of the week. He’s excited for Henry to leave and excited to sleep in his own bed. But he’s dreading being back in your shared house. It’ll be the first time the two of you are forced to be alone, and he knows he’ll have to find the words to describe what he’s been feeling. 

But apparently Tyler’s stupid, because he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. 

All he knows is that he doesn’t want to lose you. And seeing you with Henry makes him feel like he’s about to lose you. Tyler doesn’t know how to say that to you without coming across as a total lunatic.  

…

You don’t want to cause a scene at the rest stop. But the minute you see Tyler head for the RV, you’re out of your seat and beelining it towards him while the rest of the team is distracted.

As soon as you hoist open the door, you find him hunched over the fridge, grabbing a water bottle. 

“What the hell?” is all you can manage to blurt out. You’re fuming and on the verge of tears. But you can’t help it– Tyler’s silent treatment has just about pushed you to the edge. 

Tyler whips around at the sound of your entrance… and maybe it was a little dramatic– but you need to get your point across. 

There’s a long pause while Tyler’s eyes study you. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

You’re met by more silence.  

“This is ridiculous, Tyler. Will you just talk to me?”

Finally, Tyler scoffs, “The reporter gave you his number, right?  Why don’t you talk to him?  I’m sure he’d love to talk.”

In an instant, a wave of understanding washes over you. But it isn’t overshadowed by the anger you feel. 

“Are you serious right now? You’re jealous of Henry?”

He shuts the fridge before cracking open his water bottle dismissively, ignoring your questions. 

“Tyler, are you forgetting that you’re the one who invited him with us this week? I mean, did you think he was just supposed to sit back and observe? He’s a reporter, of course he’s going to have questions… Questions that you were way more qualified to answer, but you were too busy being a jerk all week to answer any of them. So I did it for you–”

“I never asked for you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to– I did it for you!” you cry. “I did it so that he’d write you a good story– because you deserve that.” 

“Oh, how convenient. So you two just get along so well for my sake then?” he says. 

You exhale sharply. “Are you kidding me right now? We’ve spent the last week talking about you! I’ve been talking you up– telling him stories about what you do– how good you are at what you do– all the people you’ve helped–”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Yeah right,” he scoffs. 

You pause, anger slowly melting away at the realization that he genuinely didn’t believe anything you were saying. 

“Tyler,” you say seriously. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Henry. I’ve been answering his questions and telling him how fucking brave and generous and smart you are–”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps, voice cracking just slightly. “Just forget it, it doesn’t matter.” He sets his water bottle on the counter before moving to step by you. 

“Tyler stop–” you say, reaching for him. But he’s too quick. He reaches the door before you’re able to stop him. 

“Will you please stop walking away from me!” you blurt out frustratedly, tears forming in your eyes. “You’ve been running from me all week– I just… I just want to talk about this. Please–”

Tyler doesn’t turn to face you, but to your relief, he stops before opening the door. 

“There is nothing happening between me and Henry, Tyler. I mean, I promise you, absolutely nothing– I… I don’t know how else to convince you. But there’s nothing going on. I’m not into Henry–”

“I know,” he says quickly, eyes squeezing shut. 

You let your mouth fall open, confusion washing over you. “What?” 

“I know there’s nothing happening between you and Henry– I trust you and I believe you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “So why are you so mad at me?”

Tyler pauses and bites his lip before saying, “I’m not mad at you–” he tries to explain. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I don’t understand why–”

You sigh. “Tyler, you’re not making any sense–”

Tyler’s face twists in anguish. “Why aren’t you into him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s everything I’m not. And I mean– Seeing you with him– it just made me realize that you can do so much better than me,”  Tyler says desperately, the pain almost palpable in his voice. “He’s got the fancy degree– he’s obviously smart–”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence, because the idea of anyone ever being better than Tyler was even more ludicrous than him being jealous in the first place. “Tyler, you’re smart–”

“I didn’t go to Columbia. I didn’t even finish my first year of undergrad.”

“I don’t care about any of that– you know I don’t–”

“Why?” he blurts out harshly, finally turning to look at you. “Why do you even want me when you can have someone like him?”

Tyler didn’t think he was good enough for you– and that admission broke your fucking heart. In an instant, all the reasons you loved Tyler flow through your head. There’s so many, you can’t even keep up. 

So instead, you reach into your pocket and pull out the note Henry had given you just hours earlier– the one Tyler apparently saw him give you. He watches as you unfold the piece of paper, quickly revealing that it’s not a phone number. 

“It’s his mom’s cookie recipe,” you explain. “The ones you refused to try. I talked to him about how you have a sweet tooth, and I said how much you love chocolate chip cookies, so he wrote it down for me. I thought I might be able to make them for you when we got home. Because I love you– and I love doing things that will make you happy. Because that’s what you do for me– you make me happy. All the time, just by existing.”

You watch as the realization washes over him.  

You sigh. “Did you ever stop and think about how I feel the same about you?”

He pauses before looking at you questioningly. 

“I mean, you’re you,” you say, gesturing towards him. “People adore you, Tyler. And rightfully so– but I’m always worried you’ll find someone better. But I don’t get hung up on it, because I trust you. I trust that you mean it when you tell me you love me and you choose me. And I need you to do the same for me, Tyler. I need you to trust me. Because I love you– and I always will.”

Tyler exhales, his eyes watery. 

“Can you do that?” you plead. 

To your relief, after a moment, he nods. 

You don’t hesitate before closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his middle. You lay your head on his chest just as his arms wind around your shoulders in an attempt to make up for all the hugs you’ve missed out on this week. Because as much as you love chasing in Oklahoma or Texas, your absolute favorite place to be is at home in his arms. 

“Cookie recipe, huh?” he muses above you, chin resting on top of your heads. 

You nod. “I’m a horrible baker, but I was going to give it a shot.”

Tyler tightens his grip around you. “Well horrible baker or not, I love you and I choose you.”

You let your eyes fall shut and inhale the familiar, comforting scent of him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” you say honestly. 

[real-total-drama-takes]

my favorite little friendships that the show doesn't care about or the fandom doesn't care about. or I just wanna talk abt idk:

Beth and Leshawna - what could've been...

Bridgette and Courtney - WHY DID THEY REDUCE BRIDGETTE TO GEOFF'S GF WHO MADE OUT WITH HIM AND CHEATED ON HIM WAAAH

Bridgette and Gwen - like they were friends pre-merge on island cmon

Cody and Harold - they are nerds TOGETHER. I appreciate Harold's lil rap in wt.

Cody and Heather - LOVE popular girl and nerd bestie truther

Harold and Heather - Harold just wanted to be her friend man. Heather did in secret too but she didn't want to ruin her rep.

Harold and Tyler - THEY WERE SO SILLY IN THAT ONE EP IN WT they can be nerds TOGETHER

Izzy and Lindsay - nobody talks about them.

Justin and Owen - they were kinda fruity as well ngl like... but anyways if not they were goofily friendly in action

Justin and Trent - I LOVE AND APPRECIATE THEM they're best friends thank you

Leshawna and Tyler - HELLO THEY WERE THE REAL REALITY TV PROS

Lindsay and Trent - THEY'RE THE GOOFIEST FRIENDSHIP dumb girl and lovesick boy...

honorable mentions

Alejandro and Duncan - I just had to mention them ik they're popular

Beth and Cody - sillies

Beth and Duncan - idk man I just appreciate them. the unknown best friends

Bridgette and DJ - ik everyone loves them but. I just had to mention

Bridgette and Leshawna - I love the girls friendships

Cody and Owen - they were so chill together in island

Courtney and Katie - why were they hugging in that one dodgebrawl scene IT'S BECAUSE THEY'RE BFFS besides Sadie ofc

DJ and Geoff - bc I Appreciate them

DJ and Leshawna - she's his older sister figure

Duncan and Heather - yeah.

Geoff and Gwen - THEY SHOULD'VE BEEN BESTIES EVEN MORE

Izzy and Noah - again, I just want to mention them. they were so goofy in wt

Lindsay and Sadie - GBF they had ugly hair TOGETHER

.

[rainydaydally]

Noah of the waters.

When Cody finds Noah.

This is an island of the slaughtered fanfiction (original island of the slaughtered by @/Eavee-ry

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

WARNING: This fanfiction contains major character d3ath, descriptive mentions of bl00d, d3ath, dr0wning, ch0king/str@ngling, and kind of body h0rror.

You have been warned !!

When the rest of the contestants of the supposed show (who are still… alive…) arrive to the dock a bit behind Cody, they stop in their tracks.

“Noah?” Cody asks shakily, looking into the water and seeing the lifeless body of the boy he once loved. Noah’s eyes had gone almost completely white, and Cody could swear he heard him humming almost like a siren, luring him to join him.

The other teens slowly walk their way to the end of the dock that Cody was standing at. He looks completely pale, as if he should be the one in the water too. His knees buckle beneath him and he falls, as the rest of the group slowly appears behind him.

Duncan sighs, and he gently puts his hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Let go of me, Duncan! It’s your fault.” He yells, throwing Duncan’s hand off of his shoulder. “Guys, come on. Maybe we can still save him.” Cody pleades desperately, turning around to everybody else to try and convince them.

Duncan hesitates but thinks for a moment.“It is my fault this happened. The least I could do for the kid is to try and help Noah..” Duncan thinks, and begins to help Cody pull Noah out of the water. Gwen crouches down to help them too, and everyone else just kind of… watches. Too tired to completely realize that the killer has claimed another victim from their group.

When the three of them pull Noah out of the water, they carry him to the beach and place him on the sand. The sand sticks to his wet skin as Cody really takes it all in. Theres a small line of rope burn around Noah’s neck, and Cody gently traces his fingers on it.

If it was an alive person, they would have winced. He didn’t.

When Cody places his hand on Noah’s chest to maybe feel a heartbeat, he notices the kitchen knife stabbed right below his collar bone. Cody hesitates, but lays his hand on his chest to feel the familiar beat of his heart. He couldn’t feel it.

Katie walks over to the shivering boy. “Cody…” Katie says softly, rubbing his back. Cody somehow got even more pale than he was before. His eyes begin to water, not just due to crying but also from them being so open and wide because of the utter shock.

Cody places his hands on Noah’s heart and begins preforming CPR. He tries and tries and tries. Nothing. Not even a movement or a single beating from his pulse.

“He’s gone, Cody.” Heather says after a long amount of silence. Duncan feels his stomach drop. “How could I let this happen to Noah? To Cody? To-“ Duncan thinks for a moment on who was friends with the boy, and his eyes dart to Owen.

Owen is watching the whole ordeal from a few feet away, his kind and funny demeanor disintegrating- it’s visibly on his face. His eyes begin to water but he quickly wipes them and heads to Noah.

Cody almost throws up as his body begins wracking ugly sobs. He grabs Noah and holds his body close to him and hugs him tightly. Owen sits down next to where Gwen, Duncan, Katie, and Cody are sitting on the beach and he leans his head on Cody’s shoulder, closing his eyes a bit.

“I’m sorry, Cody. You know I didn’t intend for him to die when I-“

“What? When you and your little group abandoned him?!” Cody interrupts Duncan, looking into his eyes as his expression and… well… everything looks like a crazy mess.

Cody continues with his spiel. “Yeah, sure. You didnt MEAN for him to get killed. But he DID get killed, Duncan. And We’re all here and alive right now, and HE’S NOT. AND IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU.”

“Stop it! It’s not his fault!” Courtney interjects, looking at Cody and then to Duncan. Duncan just shakes his head and mouths to her. “Stop. I’d be mad at myself too.” Courtney eye rolls at Duncan and goes back to digging small holes with her fingers next to her in the sand.

Bridgette scooches closer to Cody. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be mad at everyone you want to in this position..” She says softly, gesturing to him. Cody just nods, looking at the body he’s holding, Noah’s soaked hair dripping onto his arms. His sobs begin to die out, but he’s still sniffling and tears are pouring out of his eyes.

Heather kicks at the sand. “Fuck! We need to find out who the hell this disgusting killer guy is before it get’s too late. Who would even be out here?!”

“Yeah dude, I was wondering that too.” Geoff says, wrapping his arms around Bridgette. “They would have to be crazier than Izzy to be out here for no reason other than to… hurt innocent teenagers..” Courtney states. She was atleast very careful of her wording to not upset Cody or Owen.

“I cant believe he’s…” Cody can’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. Not yet. He couldn’t have been gone so early in his life. Sixteen? Sixteen years old? That’s not enough time to do… anything with your life.

Cody gently touches the knife that’s stabbed into Noah. There’s almost no blood on him (visibly) due to his usual many layers of clothes. He changes his view to Noah’s formally deep brown eyes. They are now pure white, staring right into the center of Cody’s soul. He wonders a moment how they lost all of their color.

Cody gently closes the other boy’s eyes with his fingers, deciding to let him rest peacefully. He pretends for a moment that Noah is just resting on his lap again. He knows that isn’t true.

----

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[papirouge]

How can you stand going into nazi discussions and reading all the crap they're writing? I hate them so much lol

I don't understand women who entertain those kind of men, I know some of them are men pretending to be women but some of them are the real deal... like they'll never respect and accept them as one of them except to be a white babies factory, yet these womens racism is bigger than their self respect and self esteem.

But what I understand even less is non-whites entertaining neo nazi ideology. I'm aware that just like with women some are just white people pretending to be PoCs, but I've known actual poc thta agree with nazism and some even post pics of themselves. It's so ugly lol but I've noticed that they always seem to be non-black PoC or if black they're light skin, they just seem to have the mentality of "at least i'm not a n*gger 🤪" thus why they think they can mingle with the whiteys and be accepted by them. Like many of them are usually pale-skinned latinos or east asians from what I've noticed. And neo nazis sometimes entertain them because they realize they're good for creating division between non-whites but they never really accept them as one of them - they're just their fighting dogs. These idiots need to realize many nazis and white supremacists barely accept white people with black hair and brown eyes as their own (sometimes they'll accept them but consider them less pure and beautiful than their blue/green eyes blond haired counterparts). That's why you'll see blond, blue-eyed neo nazi men constantly dunk on white women and brown-eyed dark haired people - even though they could be his allies he still needs to feel superior to them because he probably has nothing going for him except for his race and sex (which he has convinced himself makes him superior). He doesn't have to work for it or earn it he simply is born superior and everyone else should understand that too and treat him as such. When you think about it, it's really pathetic and stupid.

Last thing is I'll always laugh at neo nazis talking about black or brown people marrying white to "bleach/lighten their genes". Not because it's not true; many brown and black people do wish they could have light skin or white kids, hopefully with light eyes and hair too (mentol illness), but because dark skin, dark hair and brown eyes are DOMINANT genes!!! So are "black features". This is why they'll never make me feel bad about my features, God made them dominant and theirs recessive lol perhaps for a reason (this is why christians white supremacists are even more stupid to me).

I think women drawn to Nazi/misogynist see in it a form a "strong masculinity" they don't find in more liberal men. They're too dumb to realize those moids only talk smack from their socials but will shit themselves if confronted IRL with any of the demographics they shit on the regular. I mean, for so called strong men they, White nationalists are actually pretty meek when it come to display outward sign of their opinion in the real world. That's why they only do so in rallies. Standing alone they are scaredy cats that will play victim #antiwhitegenocide. You can bet that the person who made the tweet saying she went out of her way to say she was racist to that foreign bus driver whose only crime was being friendly, that if the bus driver would've reacted aggressively she would act like she was the victim. Because nazi & racists love playing the victim card whenever they initiate antagonization.¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

And yeah you're totally right about racist/Nazi non White rallying around the "at least I'm not Black" thing. It's very true for Hispanics (like Stonetoss) or Indians. No one tells them white Nazi will always consider them like inferior pawns they'll toss away the moment they're not useful. Same goes for women they'll shit on they do a step aside. Lauren Southern and Candace Owens are case study. I think dunking on other race help them cope with their otherwise shitty life : they're unemployed, broke, lonely...but at least they're not Black 🤪

And what's so funny with the so called superior aryan race is how hellbent they are to show they're superior. When you're truly secure in your superiority, you don't waste time trying to prove it. Lions don't run with dogs. I mean, I always found crazy they so much into the bio essentialist bs about IQ but yet oblivious to the fact that their own gene are recessive. Shouldn't nature favor high IQ Aryan gene instead? 🤔 Like- it never clicked to me how they flip flop around biological essentialism lol

[fantasticalleigh]

HAPPY SUMMER SLAM DAY! Here's my predictions.

Rhea Vs. Liv.

Liv will win. If Dom doesn't turn on Rhea + TJD then it's Finn. As glad as I am to see Mami back I would love for them to build a longer storyline of her vs. Liv that doesn't center around a man. I want Rhea on a fucking warpath just tearing through everyone to get her title back and it would be a bit of a waste to see her get it back immediately tbh. Also I do like Liv and am glad she's getting her time in the spotlight at last so it doesn't hurt to let her cook a while longer. If the rumors of Raquel or Charlotte coming back are true then I can totally see either one of them siding with Liv to get revenge on Rhea. Plus regardless of who wins I'm sure we'll see a rematch at Bad Blood.

Damian Vs. Gunther.

Damian will win. I'm so pumped to see Damian defend against Gunther, I hope it's a banger. Despite the botches at Clash at the Castle, each of Damian's defenses have been pretty solid and I would be sorry to see El Campeon's reign end so soon.

Bailey Vs. Nia

Nia wins. She's been solid as fuck lately and I just love her. I like Bailey a lot too but I think Nia has the edge here. Also Tiffany will be shown contemplating a cash in but will quickly pretend to change her mind when Nia notices. Bottom line is if a title absolutely has to change hands tonight then I'm okay with Bailey losing it.

LA Knight Vs. Logan Paul

LA Knight wins. YEAH.

(Since Knight stole the ugly af Prime truck, I'm pretty sure he's gonna roll up to the ring entrance with it but he'll have trashed it and/or spraypainted/customized it)

Cody Vs. The Bloodline

Obviously I prefer Cody to win but with Jacob Fatu in the mix, idk....Part of me says no way WWE lets their biggest babyface lose the belt after the drama of WM butttt Solo really wants to establish himself as the true Tribal Chief. IDK!!!

Randy Orton and Kevin Owens are absolutely coming back. Like Cody will be about to give up on his own or something and then the RKO music hits and they come back to help him and push him to the W. The Bloodline took both of them out weeks ago so it makes sense they make their return tonight.

Everyone wants Roman to come back. I also want this but don't see it happening tonight. We'll probably get Jimmy's return sooner than we get Roman's.

Sami Vs. Bronn

Bronn wins. I like Sami a lot but idk feels like the clock on his title reign is ticking down fast.

Mcintyre Vs. Punk

NO FUCKING IDEA. Ok. Well. Some idea.

Imo this should have been the Main Event of the night. No offense to Cody and the Bloodline but they main event everything else and this feud has been white-hot lately. I think Seth is gonna be on a major power trip as ref the entire match and will refuse to validate several pins which will anger Drew and Punk. I think it's going to build up to the point that Punk and Drew will briefly come to an agreement and take their frustration out on Seth, which will result in a no contest of the match. This way the feud doesn't end yet and will ensure a rematch at Bad Blood.

Obviously I would love if Drew won but my heart can't take it if they give us another fakeout where he wins and then immediately costs himself the title or someone else does it. No more, I beg of you! Of course if Punk wins it's just going to push Drew over the edge and I wouldn't be upset about that either bc there's nothing more I love than unhinged DM Hunk.

Is that it? I think that's it. I don't think I'm missing any other matches but I'll update if I missed anything.

[sleepy-achilles]

fic request- do you write harkbreak stuff? if so maybe one of them after a match and bret tells shawn he looks pretty in his gear 🤯

My main thing is hbtaker. I have written hartbreak before but its always a tough one for me because ik everyone thinks they'd be all lovely and stuff but 90s hartbreak is 100% pure pain and toxicity. Present hartbreak is probably fluffy though.

I'll give it my best shot though. If I write bret wrong I completely apologise lol

HartBreak- Pretty little thing.

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

Shawn was having a tough week. Vince was on his back more than usual. The boys were being extra rough with him. Even the kliq was getting on his nerves, oh and an extra bit of spice! He wanted to cry anytime he looked in the mirror. And this all started because Owen and davey decided to tease him at the wrong time in the wrong place.

Bret instantly knew. He always did, shawn would tease him calling it his old man power. But bret knew he didn't have to be magical to sense shawns mood. Anyone could sense it.

Bret watches Shawn's match. He sells like normal, he fights like normal, the only difference is that sid is not pulling any punches.

Shawn winces as he kneels in the middle of the ring. He brings his hand up to his jaw. That's all he needs. A bruise to add to his ugly mood. God Shawn doesn't even know what he did to the boys this week. Probably smiled too much. Shawn sighs and adjusts his red tights. He liked these tights. The little texas flags. The boys tease him about them, but he likes them. He wished they liked them, but if that was possible he'd wish a lot more.

His mood was instantly sour and now he just wanted to get this match done and then into the showers. So that's what he does. He throws his punches a lot harder. And he feels good when sid receives a bruising sweet chin music.

Bret smiles slightly, knowing Shawn will probably feel slightly better after a win. He still prepares for a storm when Shawn returns.

-

Shawn walks into the lockeroom and doesn't even say anything or slam anything. He just makes his way towards the shower. "Shawn?" Bret calls. Shawn stops dead in his tracks. "You looked pretty out there tonight" bret states. Shawn snaps in half. He lowers his head before turning and looking at bret with the biggest, saddest eyes he's ever seen. "Really?" Shawn whispers. Bret smiles and nods. "Mhm. I love those tights on you aswell. You look really beautiful right now baby" bret tells him. Shawn moves until he's stood infront of the older. He nods slightly. "I needed that..thank you" shawn whispers.

Bret pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms around the slim waist. "Never forget how beautiful you are. No matter what your head tells you" bret whispers, planting a kiss on shawns temple. Shawn just melts, resting his head on brets shoulder. Damn. He really did need this. "I know it's been a tough week. But it'll all be okay from now on. I promise." Bret whispers. Shawn sits quietly for a few minutes. "Bret?" He asks quietly, lifting his head. "Yeah kid?" Bret hums. "I love you." Shawn states. "I love you too pretty boy" bret smiles. Shawn smiles.

"I like it when you call me pretty" Shawn admits, he's cheeks flushed. "I know. I like telling you the truth" bret nods. "Yeah?" Shawn asks. "Yeah, you are just the prettiest little thing" bret smiles before kissing Shawn.

"Mmm yes I am"

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

Okay that was low-key fun

But as I said, I don't normally write bret so I might be in taker mode still for all I know.

But I tried.

[randomfandomdom]

Loki season 2 review (without spoilers) (I'm on episode 4)

Lack of Lokius is a sin.

New characters but I don't remember anything about them because lack of background story.

The writing kind of predictable. Lots of pauses to add some kind "suspense" to a very mediocre line.

The comedic relief is kind of forced and awkward and not running as smooth as season 1.

Creating a hype over what Mobius's past in every single episode and I will be disappointed if he would get a wife and a kid.

Silvie is way more annoying than season 1, yes, apparently that's possible. Her girl boss trope is failing so much that I'm rooting for the "villain" girl boss more.

Hyping that man as a skilled soldier but I don't even remember him in season 1 and he barely do anything in this one to show that he actually is strong.

(KIND OF SPOILERS???????????????) Ms minute acting all serious and mysterious only to be the biggest, cringiest plot hole of the time.

Too many "I hate you too but we have to do this together" dialogue, I count like two in every episode.

This one is a personal problem I have with sci-fi genre: too much scientific bullshit of made up device names.

Silvie, blames everyone but her, as always.

Loki was strong and got to showcase his skills but by he still freezes a lot, no development of his strength whatsoever. And yes, I'm aware he can't use his power in TVA. I'm talking about when he's out there. Like seeing your MC being dumb down to make the plot make sense.

Silvie's haircut. Again, girl boss trope where the girl is getting an ugly haircut just because she doesn't want to appeal to the male gaze. My wlw part of bisexuality was dried. The hetero part wasn't really that excited either.

The nerd was too stereotypical it hurts. Still got me though, I love him, but it seems like the writer kind of want him to be shipped with EVERYONE.

Overall Tom Hiddleston and Owen Wilson carries. Jonathan's acting was too theatrical and cringe. I don't even want to find the name of Silvie's actress, she's in the same level as Gal Gadot.

[unohanabbygirl]

I don’t know how much darker FMN will get but one of the most sacrificial things Aemond could do to prove his love and patience towards Luke would be if he actually helped Luke through a withdrawal of substance abuse. I think it could really test their relationship or at least prove to Luke that Aemond is genuine. When someone goes through withdrawal it can bring out the worst in people sometimes even testing the other persons boundaries because they become a sort of punching bag emotionally and even physically if that makes sense. It’s like that whole “sickness and in death,” because how many people actually bail on their partner when things get tough or when they realize that it means sacrificing freedom and comfort. Most people don’t want to go through the nasty and ugliness of marriage. Like the film “Love and other Drugs,” when one of the partners regretted being married to his wife because he realized he has to clean up after her or do things that he probably didn’t expect to do in marriage but that’s what love and marriage is. And even the main protagonist was like “do you really want to be cleaning up after me and all that basically.” Reminded me because Luke gets sick often and is embarrassed and ashamed of it, and yet Aemond actually caring for him would be beautiful.

One of Luke’s biggest fears is someone seeing him in a vulnerable state that’s easy to take advantage of and judge harshly. We as the readers know how bad things get for him when it comes to his bouts of vomiting and headaches after a bad dream. It’s nothing pretty and in all honesty, Luke isn’t the sort of person who’s particularly easy to take care of when unwell. He’ll argue, fight and fuss because it’s ingrained in him that he needs to handle these things on his own since the only person he truly has is himself. People will walk out and abandon you at the drop of a hat once things become inconvenient for them. Especially lovers (Owen…)

In Luke’s mind not only does it expose his weaknesses which could easily be used against him, but the idea of someone being disgusted with him if they were to see him that way has been beaten into him figuratively and literally. As a young child growing up in the care of adults with little to no patience and lacking the capacity to be empathetic, whenever he wet the bed/himself or vomited such actions were always met with physical violence or a lot of yelling. Its why he’d rather clean up the evidence and hide it away somewhere in his room until he can find time to dispose of it without anyone finding out. In his mind no one would ever want to see him in that state, much less respect him afterwards. If he feels this much disgust towards himself then how will others react? Surely 100x worse.

Adding a withdrawal from narcotics of any kind make sickness so much worse. You’re agitated, angry, burning up, people are too loud and the around you lights are too bright. You feel like you’re going to die if you don’t get a fix and everyone around you is holding you back. Family, friends and partners becoming punching bags. Very few people have the patience and willpower to stick through it without giving up.

Aemond getting a front row seat to Luke in such a fragile state and actually going the extra mile to take care of him while being patient and showing kindness would be enough to make Luke rethink what he assumed Aemond’s true intentions were. After all, no one who doesn’t actually care about you or sees you as no more than a toy would ever remain there to help clean up the mess, tuck you into bed when you’re weak, and take the horrible insults thrown in frustration. Staying throughout it all and not only remaining faithful but kind is a sign of genuine care and Luke knows that.

He’s seen it before first hand, seen guys abandon their girlfriends who have addiction problems. Seen people bail out in the middle of parties on their own because their partner is drink or high and making a fool of themselves. Seem how heartless people can be towards those who battle substance abuse period.

Aemond defying that set of expectations and showing Luke that he’s worthy of being loved and cared for by remaining loyal even when times get rough is a turning point. It’s enough to finally make Luke see that his past relationships weren’t a cause of his own faults but the results of selfish, violent partners. After all, if Aemond and everyone else remained at his side then perhaps the things people have told Luke about himself aren’t true.

[andiwriteordie]

tell me everything about will's airbending <3

a dare is a dare

look i really really REALLY need to go back through and like organize this into some giant masterdoc or something (my other wips and projects are over here looking at me like... bitch pls), because i can't remember what i've talked about with will and his airbending LOL.

so, i apologize if i'm repeating myself!

will misses his airbending.

i think i'm noticing a theme with literally all the party members, and it's that so much of their identity and their joy in life comes from their bending, and a lot of what happens in this little world challenges that/takes it away. (something something something about bending kinda being what dnd represents in the stranger things canon—that loss of childhood and innocence and the difficult journey to reclaim all of that and break free from the cycle of trauma and abuse).

so, in the aftermath of his kidnapping, will's airbending isn't gone. but it's... not the same. will isn't the same, and he can't even pretend like he is. not when everyone around him treats him differently (everyone but mike, that is). everyone handles him with kid gloves. he has to go to the doctor—some airbender who is nice on the surface level but doesn't really seem to care about what will wants—a couple times a week for breathing treatments, his tattoos are scarred and ugly now as a result of what happened, and it feels like every time will closes his eyes, he's reliving those terrifying moments surrounding his near death experience. the encounter with that airbender ruined will's ability to separate his own bending from his trauma.

and will misses his airbending.

because unlike his brother, will's airbending has always been a source of joy for him. jonathan made sure of that, and jonathan protected will from the brunt of lonnie's abuse. even if jonathan didn't enjoy his bending, he still did everything he possibly could to make sure will loved his own airbending. so, as a kid, growing up, airbending has always been one of will's most favorite parts about himself. he's pretty good at it too, and he can make his friends laugh and smile when he takes them to go airgliding (dustin and lucas both scream like little girls, but they still love it; and mike always begs will to take him), or when he shows them new tricks he's been working on, or when they all hang out with poki the bison who all of them are determined to help fly. (it doesn't work, but that's okay. will loves poki anyways!) airbending has been will's escape—from his dad's anger, from the bullies at school, and from everything else that was difficult growing up.

and then, all of that got taken away from will.

he can't airbend anymore without gasping and feeling like somebody is stopping him from breathing. he can't look at himself in the mirror without remembering those moments when his body did something instinctual and terrifying and so painful in an attempt to save itself. physically, he can hardly breathe on his own anymore, and at first, dr. owens agrees that his lungs are weaker and just need some help, but eventually, owens begins to remind him that this is in his head. it's no longer the physical. it's all in will's head now.

which is just miserable. because how can that make any sense? obviously, will misses his bending. he misses his ability to breathe well and to stop associating everything with how this man hurt him. he misses the person he used to be. he feels so different now—different and broken and so unlike himself. so, in the aftermath of his kidnapping, will doesn't airbend. he can't bring himself to. he stays close to the earth, like there's some imaginary shackle preventing him from taking flight. maybe it is all in his head. and maybe he's doing this to himself.

[pasta-and-hedgehogs]

Feeling despised currently and im not too sure why like mates went out without me I had an interview thats fine I just felt like I was missing out and then I had a terrible day yes I ranted and vented and talked about myself because I just wanted to be heard I think that might have been irrational one thing that has always not upset me but has irritated me when people relate to your experiences with their own and I knoe tyat everyone is different and it can how people communicate I understand that but sometimes I want a ph im sorry you're having to go through that I had a similair experience not jjst oh yea same this is happening its something im just going to have to let go of because its probably not going to change It just caused me to get overwhelmed a tad and then when we met up I just felt out of the loop like they were going to get the same piercing and I was half considering because of fomo I will be there for it but probs not get it but I just felt so not included and I feel like ive done something and they just havent told me because thats usually what happens we just let it go. Idk it just feels shitty like That might just be me feeling overly sensitive because thats what I usually do and part of that might be the recent entanglement ive been in like I dont think that this is just a fling and id be ok even if it is this is the realest thing ive had and he likes me back in one way or annother is that love or am I a service and hes just a loyal customer at this point id take it I havent thought of Owen in a long while (relatively and comparitively to before) I finally feel like im on the other side of that ugly chapter of my life im now in turmoil educationally and familially instead but thats a different story honestly Ive been considering the dark thoughts lately and part of me almlst feels like im already dead like none of this is real and im in a weird and twisted limbo or hell like showing up to the wrong shop for an interview already late and then getting bird shit on me I was almost in tears the only thing that makes me feel real and human again is him I finally understand kissing I think I like it with him I honestly have never felt this way before I dont want to go down the same old path of obsession and burn out but I dont get anxiety it just feels right I worry that im close to messing it up constantly I hope I can exist well enough for it to not screw up. Also dropped out of uni basically well they chose to get rid because I failed 🙂‍↕️

[terramous]

pulses slow, faint matrimone

here we are!! the "carlos gets hurt on the way to the wedding and tk thinks he's been stood up" fic inspired by rafa <3 bthb: doesn't know they're injured title: julien baker - brittle boned word count: 6.8k AO3

Fifteen minutes. 

That’s what TK discovered when he snuck a glimpse of his watch beneath his suit jacket. Carlos had told him that it would be ugly to wear a watch to the wedding and he should just omit it, at least for the ceremony, but TK insisted that he couldn’t take it off for a day. Too used to tragedy striking whenever he got too comfortable, he needed to know that he could take a set of vitals at a moment's notice. 

Tragedy seemed to follow TK like an ominous black cloud that only he could see. Why did he think that today would be any different? 

His life filled with torment and disaster would not let up when they exchanged rings, and not a second before. 

Which is probably why he was standing at the altar with his friends, staring at the empty spot in front of him where Carlos was meant to have been standing fifteen minutes ago. 

Carlos had their entire wedding planned out to the minute, had even written it out on the whiteboard that hung next to the fridge; the guests were to be seated by 10:45, TK walked down the aisle with Owen at 11:00, he was supposed to walk down the aisle at 11:03, get to the end of it at 11:04. 

It was 11:19 and the music played through long ago. This was a bit more than just missing his cue. 

Gabriel had taken a tentative seat at the end of the back row, his phone in his hands. He was supposed to walk his son down the aisle today, but there had been no sign of him. 

Everyone was equally as confused. 

Paul had seen Carlos not even an hour ago, and had helped him get ready. Carlos wanted to take a car by himself, so Paul had left the loft only a matter of minutes earlier. 

Mind awhir, TK couldn’t seem to gather his bearings. So he stayed where he was, exchanging the odd glance with Paul or Nancy, but he dared not move. Murmurs spread throughout their guests like wildfire–Carlos was supposed to be here.

He figured that after everything, he owed Carlos the benefit of the doubt, after all, he had never so much as stood TK up for a date, so he really didn’t think he’d bail on their wedding ceremony. But the whispers and prying looks were making him sweat, his skin clinging too tightly to his frame, like if he made one wrong move he’d split apart. 

The next time he caught Paul’s eye, he whispered “where is he?” hoping, somewhat in vain, that Carlos’ best man would have a clue as to where he was. 

Paul just offered him the same wide-eyed look that everyone else was giving him as he shrugged. “I don’t know, man.” 

Great. This was great. 

TK didn’t want to doubt Carlos’ commitment to him but when you’re standing at the altar and your groom was supposed to walk down the aisle fifteen minutes ago, it’s kind of hard to not feel like you’ve been stood up.

It would be better if Carlos had texted, said that he would be late, if he had told TK that he was getting cold feet. Hell, they could’ve postponed or called off the wedding entirely and TK would be completely willing to tell everyone that it was because of him, that he wasn’t ready because of his past. Anything would have been a vast improvement on this current situation. 

He dared not look at the guests, couldn’t even fathom locking eyes with Andrea and Gabriel. 

There were so many sets of prying eyes. He knew if he looked towards the seating, he would find his friends and family bearing similarly confused and concerned looks, no one would’ve thought Carlos would be late. It was more of his thing to be anxiously early to everything, Nancy had cracked a joke earlier about how it was a shock that Carlos hadn’t camped out at the venue just in case the sky caved in and he missed his cue with the music.

Carlos wasn’t Alex but TK was starting to see a resemblance. 

But that wasn’t right. Carlos was a kind man, one so full of love for everything in the world around him, and so much of his love had always been reserved for TK. He must have a good reason to not be at his own wedding. 

The same wedding they had spent countless nights hand-lettering every single invitation for, that had 32 cake testers because it had to be perfect. And yet, the three-tiered cake was here and Carlos was not.  

As TK stood, groomless on his wedding day, he hoped that Carlos had a really really good reason.

-

With a groan, Carlos was hurtled unceremoniously back into awareness. 

The first thing he picked up on was the noise, a cacophony of it that he recognised only as the chaos of an emergency.

He'd done traffic control at pileup scenes enough to know what it sounded like. The scraping of metal against metal, horns, the hiss of steaming cars, the whoosh of deflating airbags. 

He also had half a mind to realise that he was currently in a car that was not moving, and yet was surrounded by this noise. Something had happened.

Something bad because he didn't get a response even as he shook the shoulder of the driver. He wasn't even driving, there was dirt and blood on the edge of his white sleeve–those stains wouldn't come out–but he dimly recognized it as his wedding suit. 

He was supposed to be getting married, this didn't look like an exchange of vows with the love of his life.

But there wasn't anything he could do about it now. 

There was a tiny part of his brain that thought he saw smoke, it was screaming at him that he was in danger, but he’d had enough TK explaining both fire and medical things to last him a lifetime. The car wasn’t on fire, airbags often let out dust as they deployed. 

"Hey, sir, are you alright?" he tried again, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding across the backseat to sit behind the driver. 

Still nothing.

He reached forward, hovering his hand just in front of the driver's mouth, breathing a sigh of relief only when there was a push of warm air against his skin.

Knowing there was a whole lot that he couldn’t do, Carlos mentally rolled through the checklist of things he could. 

The driver was breathing, but unconscious, which meant his airway wasn't being managed. At any point his head could tilt to the wrong angle and he would suffocate.

TK's voice was clear in his mind, reminding him that although he couldn't lie the driver down and turn him on his side, that Carlos could still help keep him alive. 

Properly slotting himself in the seat behind the driver, he reached both hands around the headrest and carefully took hold of the driver's head. His hand came into contact with a stickiness that he recognised as blood before he even saw the red on his fingers.

"If you manage his airway for him and he dies then there's nothing you could've done to prevent it. Mass casualty events suck and they're hard to stomach but that's why there is triage, we save as many lives as we can," came TK's voice in his head. For what wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn't be the last time, Carlos was thankful for his fiancé's tendency to ramble.

All he could do was tilt the driver's head back and hold it steady, hoping that help got to them soon.

Or at least, he could try to bring help to them a little faster. 

Carlos patted down his pockets, but failed to find his phone. It had likely been flung somewhere in the crash. He could always look for it later, but instead of wasting time, he could just flag down emergency services that were undoubtedly en route, if not already on scene. 

Trying to open the door on the driver’s side of the vehicle proved useless, and a quick glance out the window explained why the hood of a red car was pressed against it, the paint splintering and cracking as the bonnet folded under the force of the impact. 

The other side was just as stuck, the window completely blocked out by what looked like the side of a van. How big was this crash? 

How many people were hurt, or worse?

He was fine. He was conscious. He'd be a little late but he was going to make it to his wedding. 

He was ripe with energy, adrenaline lining the walls of his veins with every pump of his heart, he was going to help as much as he could and then he was going to marry TK Strand. 

They were going to hyphenate their names and be insufferable about it–Carlos had already submitted his application for new uniform pieces with Strand-Reyes emblazoned across them in big lettering. 

Every time he went out on a call from now on he would take TK with him. No matter where he was or who he was with, he would always carry that part of TK that he had been so lucky to have shared with him–he would wear TK���s name as his own and TK would do the same. 

He wouldn’t let TK down. Not ever, but especially not on a day like this.

They picked a hell of a day to have a massive pile-up, with Austin’s finest firefighters and paramedics taking the day off to watch him and TK promise themselves to each other–until death do them part. 

Even his father was at the venue. There was nowhere better to be if you felt like having an emergency than that aisle Carlos had yet to walk down, but he was here, sandwiched between cars and unsure of what more he could do. 

He’d never been in a car accident in his life. It was nothing like he had imagined. He wasn’t even sure what he had imagined, by the time he saw wrecks, fire and medical were swarming the scene; help had arrived. 

Sure, he’d watched firecrews rip cars apart, but they had equipment, gear and training. 

Carlos was a patrol officer in a white suit jacket, trapped in a steel cage of his own.

Some part of him, a deep enough recess of his brain that he didn’t even know he had, knew how to get out of the car. It wasn’t by opening the doors or slamming his elbow into the tempered glass until either the window or his bones shattered. 

He made quick work of removing the headrest from the passenger’s seat, pausing only to check for the soft rise and fall of the driver’s chest. Once he was sure the driver was still alive, he returned to the window behind him. 

It was the only one he could get to and feasibly get out of if he did manage to break the glass.

With the headrest in his hands, he forced the two metal pegs down, flush against the window and into the junction between glass and door. He tucked his legs underneath him, pushing himself up so he could drive the headrest down as far as he possibly could. 

Satisfied that he couldn’t get it any further, he pulled the top of the headrest back towards him, and a weblike fracture quickly consumed the glass. 

At that point it was easy enough to use the headrest again to push the glass outwards, the crystalline shards falling mostly outside of the vehicle. 

There was an exit, he was no longer trapped as he brushed away the few remaining shards in the edge of the door and pulled himself up and out of the vehicle. 

His jacket caught on some of the glass that was still in place, a sharp rip hitting the air, but Carlos paid it no mind.

Standing on top of the red cars mangled bonnet was an experience all on its own, the ability to survey the damage surrounding him, the massive pile-up of cars clogging the motorway. 

They were far from the edge of the carnage, but like the red paint crunching under his dress shoes, he could see a firetruck not too far off, crew already spilling out. 

“Please!” he shouted, waving his arms. “We need help over here!”

-

It took another five minutes before TK closed his eyes, dragged in a shaky breath and said “fuck this”. 

He was halfway back down the aisle before anyone even moved. 

Hastily, he swiped his tears away and continued, ignoring the various attempts to get his attention. 

Carlos stood him up. 

Left him at the end of the aisle, standing at the altar with a lovesick grin thinking this was the happiest day of his life, until Carlos never showed up. 

It felt like a sick joke. After all, what heartbreak could possibly be worse and more embarrassing than having his proposal declined in the middle of a crowded New York restaurant? 

This. This was infinitely worse. 

This wasn't a gaggle of strangers gossiping and gawking. The people he loved and who loved him, who believed that he was finally getting his long overdue goodness from life, had just watched the life he'd spent his whole time in Austin building, crumble.

He had no idea where he was going, just opted to duck through every door and archway he could find until he no longer felt the heavy gazes of worried eyes that followed him. The second he found silence he pressed himself up against the wall, his tears coming through along with forceful sobs as he sank to the ground. 

Nancy was the first to find him.

Of course she was.

He was confident that she had been waiting for his next move. After all, what are you even meant to do when you’re left at the altar?

Standing there like an idiot for twenty minutes, expecting–believing–that Carlos would walk down that aisle and meet him there. Only for everyone else to get more restless and his smile become one that was forced for image and not because he was elated to be marrying the love of his life. 

They’d been through hell together, almost been torn apart so many times, and yet they always found their way back to each other. This didn’t make sense, why would Carlos wait until now to give up on him?

“Dude, you took off like a bat out of hell,” Nancy said, panting slightly. It was an attempt to lighten the mood, her usual go-to, but it hit dead air and fizzled out. 

He didn’t even have words, couldn’t begin to turn his thoughts and feelings into a sentence, so he just buried his face in his knees and sobbed. 

Wretched tears, ones not unlike he had shed over his mother’s death. 

It was an agony that made him feel like he was being eaten alive. 

Nancy was on the floor with him now, offering a comforting hand rubbing along his shoulders. But he wished, harder than he ever had, that his mother was here with him.

She would have known what to say, she always did. They would’ve sat on the floor and she would have comforted him in a way that only a mother–his mother–could, and then, after making sure he was okay as he could be, she would’ve ripped Carlos to shreds.

Maybe not literally. She had always been very fond of Carlos.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason, TK,” Nancy offered, her voice smaller and softer than he had ever heard it. He was borderline hysterical at this point, shaking and crying, wetness seeping into his tailored dress pants. 

“He-” a desperate jagged gasp. “He left me!” there was no force, no bite in his tone, just the pain constricting his chest. 

Bridesmaid duties typically did not involve missing grooms and meltdowns but Nancy was taking it in stride as she pulled him into a hug. “Paul is going to call him again. Hell, I think everyone is going to call him. We’ll figure this out.” 

Logically, TK knew that Carlos would never do this to him, at least not without a good reason. Carlos had never been one to deliver any less than 100% regardless of what the task was. He wouldn’t do something like this, not to TK, not after everything they had been through just to be together. 

But TK wasn’t thinking with his logical brain, he was thinking with his brain that loved Carlos more than life itself and saw the empty place at the altar as the worst thing on Earth. A pain that lapped the solar system and then some. 

He had no idea what he was meant to do. 

There was a seating arrangement full of people he loved, yet none of them were Carlos. 

Even as he struggled to draw in adequate breaths, each one coming faster and harder than the last, he couldn’t help but wonder where his fiancé was. 

Never had it really felt like they were worlds apart until this very moment.

-

Realistically, Carlos knew that the fire crew were doing everything they could. It was a mess of a situation and there was barely any room to stand between any of the cars, most of those spaces taken up by whoever could get out of their cars. 

There were drivers yelling at each other, people trying to comfort their loved ones, even the sounds of crying children. Carlos’ heart was in his throat as he tried to gauge the situation.

He wasn’t on the clock, he wasn’t even in uniform, but he wanted to help. 

Unfortunately the best thing he could do was stay near the car he had been in, keeping an eye on the still unconscious driver as he waited for rescue crews to get that far into the carnage. 

At least from his current position, he could count the cars involved in the pile-up. Seven of them. 

And yet he was standing in the dead centre of it, unsure of what the first collison was. 

Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to remember the moments leading up to the crash. He was in the car, and the next thing he knew he was stirring amidst chaos. 

Which was probably a bad sign, it indicated that he had probably lost consciousness and suffered some kind of head injury, but he felt fine. He would be fine, he would get out of this. 

He was a bit confused to see the 126’s truck and ambulance pull up and for none of its usual crew to spill out. Obviously he’d seen the other members of the house before, both at the station and in the field. But it felt weird somehow, seeking to lock eyes with his fiancé and finding not a single familiar face–at least not any he could put a name to. 

He missed TK, he wanted to see him.

TK would make being at the scene of this kind of disaster a whole lot easier to stomach.

But TK wasn’t here–maybe he had the day off, Carlos idly wondered–so Carlos was on his own. He flagged down the nearest firefighter. 

“Please, can you help? The driver is unconscious, he’s stuck in here.” 

It was weird to think that someone else had been driving him, someone whose name he couldn’t seem to recall, but the mystery didn’t matter because the driver was unconscious and definitely injured. He needed help. 

“Please,” Carlos started again. “Please help, he’s hurt.” 

“Sir, calm down, we’ll get him out.” 

Despite knowing with utmost certainty that the firefighter was just trying to keep things calm, and keep Carlos from unintentionally interfering, it still felt condescending to be spoken to like that. It was normal, they all did it on the job, but on the other side he felt like telling this other man that he wasn’t an idiot. 

He was a cop, he wouldn’t have a meltdown in the face of something like this. He had more experience than that, he’d watched people die and still maintained his composure–he wasn’t a civilian, he was a professional. 

He was about to say something when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, turning around to come face-to-face with a member of the 126’s B-shift. 

Some man, taller than him with a soft smile and wisps of dark hair peeking out from underneath his helmet. He had a comforting energy to him, which is probably why he was the one speaking now. 

“Come with me, we can get medical to check you out while my team works on the rescue side of things, hmm?” 

Knowing that anything else would just be fighting a losing battle, Carlos relented, allowing the firefighter to guide the way back towards the crew vehicles. 

The firefighter helped Carlos climb over a few car bonnets and weave his way through other tight spaces as they made their way out of the wreckage. Looking around, Carlos hadn’t realised how many crews had actually shown up. There were flashing lights coming from every direction, at least four fire engines, and countless more ambulances. 

A mass casualty event. 

That’s why the firefighter could be spared to take him out of the way, there were fire crews crawling all over the scene. Undoubtedly spread thin, but they needed to evacuate the patients who could walk on their own. 

Reaching a hand out and grasping Carlos’ forearm, the firefighter steadied him as he hopped down off of the final bonnet, a blue car that looked sickenly like his camaro. It wasn't, of course, that beautiful beast parked safely at the loft, away from anything that could so much as scratch the paint. 

“You’re dressed pretty fancy, where were you headed?” 

Carlos stopped, his steps faltering quite jarringly as he looked down at himself. White suit jacket covered in mess, a few rips and tears, the stray few blood droplets happily soaked into the edge of his sleeve, only one of his gold cufflinks in place. His black dress pants were a mess also, littered in scratches and tears, a few lighter splotches of dirt, dust or dried blood, Carlos wasn’t sure. There wa a fairly large hole in the right thigh, revealing a laceration that was none too deep but a few inches long and bleeding. 

He was suddenly aware of the wet feeling all the way down to his ankle, his pants sticking to his leg in some places. 

But he hadn’t a clue why he was dressed like that. It was a far cry from his usual jeans and shirt he preferred on his days off. 

He wracked his brain but only drew blanks. 

Somewhere along the line he had gotten dressed with Paul there, he remembered that much. As well as his parents who were also there at some point, Marjan who tidied up his hair. He couldn’t fathom what kind of thing warranted such a fuss of his appearance. 

Especially something apparently fancy enough to warrant a white blazer in the midday sun. 

“Actually, I’m not sure.” 

The firefighter met his eye, his demeanour taking a slight shift. If Carlos were anyone else–except maybe Paul–he would’ve missed it. Something was off, he knew it and so did this firefighter. 

“Are you sure? You kinda look like you’re headed to a wedding or something. People don’t dress that nice for lunch dates.” 

Wedding. 

That made sense, Carlos could be going to a wedding. Although wearing white to someone else’s wedding was definitely a dick move and he didn’t know anyone who was even engaged. 

Aside from himself, and TK. 

His wedding, he realised with a crushing wave of clarity. 

“I have to go to my wedding,” he choked out, startling the firefighter–Wells, his name tag provided.  

Wells almost immediately placed the placating hand back on Carlos’ shoulder. “You should probably sit down, get medical to check you out.”

“No, I’m fine,” Carlos said, swatting the firefighter’s hand away. “I have to go to my wedding.”

Two hands were on him now, both just below his shoulders, gloved fingers wrapping around his biceps. The firefighter was a bit wild-eyed now, his gaze continually flicking over Carlos, never settling in any one place for long. “You can do that as soon as medical check you over, I’m sure it won’t be long.” 

“I can’t be late,” Carlos insisted, once again trying to duck out of the firefighter’s hold. “TK will think I abandoned him. I have to get married.” 

He couldn’t let TK down. He was probably already late but he was sure that if he showed up and explained everything that TK would be okay with it, they could start the ceremony over again. They could still get married today.

“Like, I said,” the firefighter spoke again, Carlos was struggling to remember his name and his name tag was out of sight. “You can do that after medical checks you over and clears you.”

“I’m fine,” Carlos insisted, hoping that if he repeated himself enough then this firefighter would actually listen to what he was saying. “I don’t need to wait for that. I have to get married.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave until a paramedic has a look at you.” 

“You don’t understand, my fiancé is a paramedic and I’m fine. He’s waiting for me to marry him, I have to go.” 

Perhaps being insistent on going to his wedding after being involved in a multi-car pile-up wasn’t the best way to convince rescue crews that you were fine–even though Carlos definitely was–because the firefighter waved someone over, undoubtedly the first EMT or paramedic he laid eyes on. 

“Why don’t you sit down, for a sec?” 

“I told you, I’m fine,” Carlos hissed, once again shaking off the hold. He needed to get to the wedding, to prove to TK that he was willing to spend forever together. He couldn’t do that if he was stuck in the middle of the city waiting for a medical check that he didn’t even need. “I have to go to my wedding.” 

Something odd happened as he finished his sentence, stepping forward, he staggered, a rush of dizziness sweeping over him. There were steadying hands on him yet again, but this time he failed to shrug them off. 

He couldn’t make out the firefighter’s face anymore, it became obscured by a film that made everything blurry. Carlos honestly no longer had a sense of which direction was up and which was down. 

“I have-” he started, the words and his tongue feeling foreign in his mouth. 

“I have to go to my wedding.” 

He didn’t realise how noisy and bright the scene was, sensory overwhelm pouring in from all sides. Flashing lights, the whir of machinery pulling apart cars, the shrieking of metal being ripped to shreds, sirens, the hot Austin sun hanging high in the sky. 

The silence was a welcomed change. 

-

Apparently Carlos couldn’t even be bothered to pick up his phone. 

There was a simmering anger in TK’s chest, roiling behind his pain. He was devastated at the turn of events, but he couldn’t help being angry with Carlos. After everything, he had thought that their relationship meant more. 

It wasn’t even like everyone’s calls were going straight to voicemail either. So his phone wasn’t off. 

The mystery of a lifetime–where was Carlos on his wedding day? 

Carlos was meant to be there with TK, they were supposed to have exchanged rings, supposed to be husbands by now. But there was no sign of him. 

Somewhere amidst the chaos of everything, TK found respite. 

He was allowed to stay in the broom closet, curled up against the wall, his knees pulled to his chin. Everyone else was trying to rectify the disaster that had become of the wedding that was meant to be perfect. 

TK and Carlos deserved this. They’d jumped through hoops and levelled mountains for the love of a lifetime, but somehow TK had gone and screwed it up along the way. There was no other conclusion that he could draw, Carlos wasn’t here, wasn’t in the one place he was meant to be. 

TK wasn’t sure he had ever felt quite this hopeless. Which was a statement in and of itself. 

Rock bottom and he were close friends, he frequented it like it was a food truck and not a crushing empty feeling in his chest. 

Here he was, back again after everything fell apart.

But it felt different now. The aching emptiness was replaced by a fire that seared its way through his chest, an agony that made it hard to breathe. 

Carlos was nothing short of his whole world, for it to crumble like this was something he knew he could never face. He wouldn’t move from his corner, couldn’t handle the idea of getting up and walking out of his wedding venue, finger light and heart all the heavier. 

He should have expected that his father would join him on the floor. 

“How are you holding up?” 

TK just laughed. Unfortunately it sounded more like a cat choking on a piece of plastic it found under the couch. It wasn’t even hollow and mirthless, it just sounded like he was dying.

He felt like it too.

He didn’t humour his father with a reply, just continued his meltdown with new company. 

Owen didn’t touch him. Knew it wouldn’t help. 

Sometimes after a lifetime of being known by someone they understand you. 

Silence is a great companion when you don’t even have the clarity of mind to think straight. His thoughts were jumbled and sounded awfully akin to the cries of a wounded animal. At this point he was one. Cornered and surrounded, unsure of where he could go next, fully aware of the looming threat just beyond his eyeline. 

He never wanted to leave the broom closet. There was a world beyond the four square feet of space in which the man he was ready to spend the rest of his life with didn’t love him in the same way. 

His father had an ulterior motive. He knew that much. 

After all, last time he had been heartbroken it didn’t hold a candle to how much he was hurting right now and his father had found him dead on his apartment floor. 

He survived that, he didn’t think he could survive this. 

“Breathe, TK.” 

He didn’t want to. Maybe if he hyperventilated for long enough he would pass out and wake up to find that it had only been a dream–an awful nightmare. 

There was a hand on his back now, rubbing circles as if he were a distressed child. Maybe he was. 

“Breathe,” his father’s voice was soft, but only in the sense that it was a conversation that only the two of them could hear, it stayed firm, commanding.

TK sucked in a choked and staggered breath, coughing once his lungs fully expanded for the first time in what felt like hours. 

“Good. You’ll be okay.” 

That was a sentence more for easing Owen’s own mind than to comfort TK. But it was true. He either had to be okay or he would die. Even if his heart didn’t stop, he would rot like a corpse, from the inside out. His heart would never recover from this. 

There’s only so much pain you can go through before it destroys you and TK crossed that threshold long before he stood alone at the altar.

There was a dead thing in his chest, beating against his ribcage, maybe if it escaped things would hurt less. 

A clacking of heels against hardwood and TK found the energy to look up at the doorway for the first time. Marjan hovered awkwardly, phone in hand, her eyes blown wide. She looked wonderful in her dress, the soft blue suiting her unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined. Had this not been the worst day of his life, TK would’ve told her that she looked like a princess. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said, her voice unsure but full of care, “but this article says that there’s been a massive pile-up on MoPac.”

“What?” TK’s voice was small, but ripe with terror. MoPac was the fastest route from the loft to their venue. 

Marjan read from her phone. “First responders are still evacuating people but it’s been confirmed that there are eight injured,  three dead, and numbers expected to rise as rescue efforts continue.”

There’s a brief reprieve from the heartache of being left at the altar, only for the fear to flood into its absence and hold him in a vice grip.

Things made a lot more sense now.

Guilt. That was the most prominent emotion, guilt that while TK had been assuming that Carlos had outright abandoned him, his fiancé could be hurt, or worse. 

-

Carlos knew where he was before he even opened his eyes.

He’d spent enough time in hospital rooms when TK was hurt to recognise the feeling in the air if nothing else. Hospitals always felt different. It wasn’t a matter of the noise or the overly sterile-feeling lights–the air carried a different weight. 

Nothing was quite as unhomely as a hospital, seemingly always a hostile environment, at least whenever he was in them as of late. The sound of shoes squeaking against linoleum was enough to throttle him back into the memories of being at TK’s bedside, begging him to wake up, to not leave. 

This was different though. 

When Carlos usually woke up in hospitals it was with a crick in his neck from sleeping sitting up, or awkwardly hunched over the edge of a hospital bed. 

It took him a bit longer than he expected to cut through the brain fog and realise that’s because he was in the bed. 

Something had happened. Something he was not entirely sure of, but it was nothing good. 

When he finally mustered up the energy to pry his eyes open, he found his hospital room basked in moonlight from the only window, a soft blue glow pouring from between the gaps in the blinds. 

Illuminating the figure in the chair next to the bed. 

Head dropped in sleep, Carlos could still recognise his fiancé anywhere. 

TK’s hair was a mess, sticking up in every possible direction. It paired well with his white button down that was all crumpled, in complete disarray, a few of the top buttons undone, one side of the collar flicked up. A black tie around his neck, completely undone as it hung loosely over his shoulder. He looked like a wreck.

It took a few moments but Carlos’ hazy brain finally caught up, placing a context to TK’s clothes. They were too fancy to be casual wear, nicer than anything he had seen TK wear to a nice restaurant. It clicked into place, the realisation firm and bringing with it a sense of clarity. 

Their wedding. 

With clarity came memories. 

The crash. The carnage. Collapsing under the midday Austin sun. Missing his own wedding. 

It was clear that TK hadn’t even had a moment of reprieve to go home and change, although Carlos doubted he would even if he did get the chance. TK loved him so wholly and with his entire soul, and Carlos knew firsthand how much leaving the hospital room feels like your heart is being constricted even if it’s only for a few minutes. 

He’d gotten better at being able to get home and change out of his uniform, it still felt like he was dying but it was a skill he had acquired only through surviving the worst with TK. 

Carlos was torn between leaving TK asleep or speaking in an effort to wake him. His fiancé definitely needed the sleep but there was something about seeing TK asleep in a hospital room that made Carlos’ skin crawl. Realistically he knew that TK was fine, he was safe, but he needed something stronger for his brain to use to confirm that knowledge. 

“Babe?” Carlos asked, his voice hoarse and coming out much softer than he anticipated.

TK jolted in place anyways, his head snapping up, eyes wide and wild. 

Panic. It was a very clear emotion to read but after a few seconds of TK anxiously scanning Carlos over he settled with a sigh, the tension leaving his posture as he took Carlos’ hand in both of his. 

“Hey, baby. How’re you feeling?” 

Carlos paused for a second, trying to take stock of everything. 

“Floaty,” he settled on. 

TK laughed softly, it wasn’t much but it was genuine, dripping in relief. “That’ll be the morphine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” TK seemed surprised, his eyebrows knitting together as he studied Carlos with worried green eyes. Carlos didn’t miss the redness around them. It might be dark and he might be in a world of pain, but he would always notice if something was off with the man he loved.

“I didn’t mean to miss the wedding. You know I would never do that to you.” 

TK was quick to move one of his hands to Carlos’ forearm, rubbing his thumb along his skin in a soothing gesture. “I know, baby. It’s not like you arranged a seven-car pile-up just for an excuse to leave me at the altar.” 

“At the altar?” 

TK was sheepish as he spoke, directing his eyes down to the blankets of the bed. “I had already walked down the aisle by the time you didn’t show.”

“Fuck, TK.” Carlos was blinking rapidly now, tears threatening to spill as the guilt overwhelmed him. He’d left the love of his life at the altar. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shh, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Am I?”

Carlos didn’t mean for his words to sound so sceptical, but he felt a full-body ache and that wasn’t even including the pounding in his head.

“Mostly. You definitely have a concussion, but you’ve been pretty out of it every time the nurses roused you so it makes sense if you don’t remember. But you had an MRI and CT scan, no signs of haemorrhaging. You were also walking around on a broken tibia–which is kind of insane. But other than that, you’re all in one piece.”

“One piece is good.” 

“One piece is great, I love all of you so it’s good to have it all in the same place.”

“Mmm,” Carlos hummed, feeling the drag of tiredness. “I love you too.” 

“You should go back to sleep. Get some rest before your parents come back in the morning.” 

Carlos didn’t have to be told twice. With his hand still in TK’s hold, he let himself drift. 

-

Two weeks following Carlos’ discharge, Andrea Reyes had taken it upon herself to tailor a pair of dress pants to fit over a moon boot. 

Somehow along the way their family had put together a second, less extravagant wedding. 

There was no fun venue, no caterer, no meticulously crafted invites, but there was a two-tiered cake from the bakery down the road from the firehouse, and a wedding arch that looked suspiciously like Judd’s handiwork and fake flowers hot-glued along the edges. 

TK’s friends from New York weren’t here this time, but the family he had found in Austin was. It was a small gathering on the Reyes family ranch, but somehow it was perfect. 

The ceremony had gone off without a hitch this time, and now they were husbands. Vowed to each other in sickness and in health, until death do them part. 

Perhaps it was a bit cruel to smash Carlos’ face into the cake after everyone had taken a slice, with having one fully-operational leg and all, but he erupted into laughter as he emerged from the frosting. 

There would always be something about Carlos’ joy that was infectious, TK joining him in laughter as he dragged a finger through the icing on Carlos’ nose and made a point of tasting it. 

Carlos may not have been the steadiest on his feet, but he was fluid in his motions as he grabbed TK’s face in his hands and pulled their bodies together for yet another kiss. They were doing a lot of those today, savouring every moment that their lips connected, not as acquaintances, or boyfriends, or fiancé’s, but as husbands.

[bellakitse]

All night, I'll riot with you

After the fire, Andrea lashes out at Gabriel and Owen for putting the boys in danger. At the end of his rope, Carlos joins in when he hears them say they weren’t thinking of them.

He and TK have a conversation about what happened at the firehouse between them.

Spoilers for 2.12

For my forever love @beka1820

TK stands quietly beside him as the doctor checks his lungs. They’ve already run tests on TK, and he should probably be outside with their fathers, but TK goes stony silent when the doctor even suggests it. Instead, he stands inches away from him, holding his hand, watching him like a hawk as he breathes for the physician.

“I’m fine, babe,” he says for the third time since they arrived at the hospital. TK’s frown just deepens at his reassurance, having the opposite reaction he wants. He lets out a low sigh before breathing in again like the doctor asks him to.

It takes another ten minutes before he’s allowed to leave the observation room after promising the doctor he’s going to take it easy.

“You’re going to experience some shortness of breath for the next few days,” she tells him, getting an absent nod from TK. “Rest. The both of you,” she looks at them sternly before she turns to leave the room.

“Thank you, doctor,” he calls out to her to be polite as she leaves him alone with TK.

“Home?” his boyfriend questions, cringing instantly at himself.

Carlos can’t help the humorless chuckle that escapes his sore throat but nods anyway, standing up sluggishly. TK instantly lets go of his hand to wrap his arm around his waist, and Carlos finds himself leaning into him, pressing a kiss at his temple as a silent thank you, ignoring the smell of smoke on him.

They walk out slowly, making their way down the hall where they had left Owen and where he knows his father is with the fire captain.

He hears his mother before he sees her.

“Of all the reckless, stupid things you have ever done, Gabriel Antonio Reyes, this one really takes the cake. Our son could have died tonight,” he hears her hiss angrily at his father. He feels TK tense against his body, and when he turns to him, he finds his boyfriend looking back at him with wide, fearful eyes. They round the corner to find his mother’s back to them as she points a finger in his father’s face. Carlos stares in shock, watching as his larger-than-life father shifts uneasily in the face of his mother’s rage.

“Andrea – “ Owen interrupts, proving he truly has no preservation skills as he stands closer to his father, providing a united front. “You can’t blame Gabriel – “

“I don’t just blame him,” his mother cuts Owen off, and he winces at the sharp edge he hears in her voice as she turns her head to look at him. “I blame you too.”

Owen’s eyes widen at her words, opening his mouth once more, but his mother doesn’t give him a chance to speak.

“Two old men acting like cowboys,” she says with a disgusted shake of her head. “So concern with your secrets and catching this guy, you never once stopped to think about the boys and how your actions and arrogance put them in harm’s way.”

“Andreaita, vieja,” his dad says softly, and Carlos swears under his breath. That pacifying tone is the last one his father should be taking with his mother right now.

“No me llames así cuando estoy enojada, Gabriel,” she says tightly, her jaw clenched. “No jodas conmigo ahora mismo.”

“Andrea,” his father says roughly, stunned, and Carlos knows it’s because he’s not used to his mother being vulgar. Neither of them are.

“Your secrets got our boys hurt,” she continues calling them out. “It cost them their home, and it almost cost them their lives. You two messed up. Own up to it.”

He watches as Owen and his father share a look between them, both letting out deep sighs, and Carlos feels something ugly tighten in his chest.

“We were trying to catch an arsonist,” his father explains, or maybe he’s trying to justify his mother’s criticism. He isn’t sure.

“We weren’t thinking about them at the time,” Owen says softly, and Carlos feels the last bit of his restraint snap. He moves out of TK’s hold, pushing his hands away when he tries to steady him.

“You weren’t thinking about us?” he questions, anger coursing through his body so strongly he thinks he’s vibrating with it.

“Carlos,” Owen says with surprise. His gaze moves over his shoulder to look at TK, his eyes shifting downward quickly with something like shame in them. He doesn’t turn to look at TK, but he can only imagine the look he just gave his father. Instead, Carlos focuses on the source of his anger, the two men he admires and who let him down tonight.

“So you lied to us to put on this great spectacle, pretending that you,” he points at his dad. “Arrested my boyfriend’s father,” he says, letting out a bitter chuckle. “Never once stopping to think how that could hurt my and TK’s relationship.”

“Carlitos, mijo – “ his father tries gently, and just like with his mother, it’s the wrong tone to take, and he continues, ignoring the attempt to defuse the situation.

“But hey, you got your bad guy,” he grins cynically.

He feels his eyes sting, ignoring it when a tear rolls down his face. “TK and I fighting over the two of you is just collateral damage, right?” he questions.

Owen and Gabriel share another look, guilt coloring both their faces.

“Except that wasn’t the end of it, was it?” he continues, the anger he feels and the fear from earlier colliding inside him until he thinks he’s going to explode. “A madman tells the two of you that he’s going to take what is most important to you, and you didn’t think of us?”

“Carlos – “ Owen tries again, but Carlos can’t hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears. “We didn’t know – “

“We lost our home, Owen!” he shouts, his throat screaming in protest, but he doesn’t care. “We almost didn’t make it out, and I have to live with the fact that I could have lost TK tonight. I don’t care about me, but I almost lost him because of the two of you,” he points at both of them, his hand shaking as he cries. “My father, and the man who is supposed to take care of TK when I can’t.”

His head spins as his vision clouds from sudden dizziness, and he tries to take a breath as panic claws at his chest. He feels hands he would recognize anywhere on his back and sternum as TK presses himself to his side.

“Breathe, baby, slow and steady,” he whispers urgently, and Carlos hates how worried he sounds. He does what he asks, taking a trembling breath and then another.

“That’s it, cariño,” his mother murmurs to the other side of him as she rubs his back softly like she did when he was a kid, needing her comforting hands.

He takes another breath, grateful when it’s easier to take than the one before. Once he feels in control again, he lifts his gaze to Owen and his father.

“I’ll get past this eventually. I’ll forgive you both,” he tells them quietly, knowing he will in the end. “But I’ll never trust either of you with TK’s safety again.”

Everyone is quiet as his promise resonates through them. After a moment, his mother clears her throat, holding out her hand to his father.

“Keys. I’m taking my boys home with me,” she says to him, leaving no room for argument. His father, still shocked by his words, hands over the keys silently. “Let’s go boys, you two need a shower, some tea, and rest.”

“Dad,” he starts to say to her, looking over at him.

“Your father’s new buddy can drive him home later, or maybe offer him somewhere to sleep for the night,” she answers as she herds him and TK away from the other men. “Either way, if he comes home, he’s sleeping in the den,” she declares, looking over her shoulder at his dad one more time before they leave them behind.

Carlos doesn’t look back like she does. Instead, he focuses on TK’s hands on him, and breathing. Slow and steady, just like his boyfriend asked.

֎֎֎

 Carlos walks into his childhood bedroom, fresh out of the shower. He’d rubbed himself red, but he can still smell the smoke clinging to his skin.

He finds TK on his bed with a cup in his hand, a soft smile on his face as he looks at him.

“Your mom made us some chamomile tea,” he explains, lifting his cup to show him. “It’s really good.”

“It’s fresh,” he answers as he hangs his towel before coming to sit down next to him. “Mom grows the herb in her garden.”

TK makes a soft sound at the back of his throat before passing him a cup of his own. He takes a sip, smiling down at the familiar taste before placing the cup on the bedside table.

“How are you?” TK questions softly as he runs a hand through his wet curls.

“I’m okay,” he answers automatically, getting a sigh in response from TK and a shake of his head.

“I don’t think you are, baby,” he whispers before leaning in to press his forehead against the side of his face, his breath tickling his skin as he circles his arms around him. “And it’s perfectly fine if you’re not. You don’t need to hide it from me.”

Carlos brings his hand to TK’s arm, pulling him in closer, closing his eyes as he clings to his boyfriend’s warmth, feeling safe for the first time in the night.

“We need to talk about what you said tonight,” TK continues softly, kissing his shoulder before pulling back to look at him. “I’m so sorry about pushing you, Carlos.”

“TK,” he starts with a loud sigh. “We talked about this. You don’t need to apologize – “

TK shakes his head at him again. “You’re wrong,” he says to him, remorse clouding his green eyes. “I do need to apologize. You didn’t deserve that, and I should have never put my hands on you.”

“You were upset,” he tries again, only for TK to stop him once more.

“That is no excuse, and you know it,” he says, now completely out of their embrace as he looks at him. “I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever want to do. I fucked up, plain and simple, and I am so sorry for it, baby.”

Carlos looks at TK, taking in the gutted guilt in his expression, and reaches out to touch his face. “I forgive you,” he says softly as TK’s shoulders drop with relief. Carlos is ready to take him back into his arms when TK’s expression changes yet again.

“There is one more thing,” he starts, biting down on his lip as Carlos realizes he is trembling. “When you said you almost lost me and that you didn’t care about yourself,” he whispers, his voice cracking as his eyes fill with tears. “Please never say that again.”

“TK – “ he whispers as TK shakes his head, tears rolling down his face as he takes a deep breath.

“I would lose my mind if I lost you,” he continues, steadier. “I love you so much. I don’t know how to do this without you anymore, and I don’t want to. So please, never say that again, and never put my safety above yours.”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he whispers, feeling his eyes burn again as he remembers how close he came to failing tonight.

“And it’s mine to protect you,” TK shoots back fiercely, taking his face in his hands in a desperate hold. “So let’s do that. Let’s take care of each other together, equally, but never putting one above the other, okay? Please,” he begs once more.

Carlos hates the pleading in TK’s voice, not standing the pain he hears there. He takes TK’s hands off his face, bringing them both up to his lips, laying a few soft kisses over his knuckles. “Okay, baby,” he breathes the words into his skin. When he looks up, he finds TK watching him with the same love Carlos feels in his eyes. “Let’s take care of each other.”

֎֎֎

Spanish translations to what Andrea said:

No me llames así cuando estoy enojata - Don't call me that when I'm mad. No jodas conmigo ahora mismo - Don't fuck with me right now

[andvys]

Longing (part 13)

Warnings: angst, some fluff

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Author’s note: this chapter is kinda short but I still wanted to give you guys something so here you go 💕 next chapter might take a while tho, I’m not sure yet.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Ellie answered, running her hand up and down your arm. You were still laying on the couch, naked under the thin blanket. You were fully on top of her, your head on her chest.

“Is that ‘chemical burn’ a bite?” You asked looking up at her.

“Yeah, you put the pieces together huh?” She asked, looking down on you. Nodding your head, “kinda always thought this story was bullshit but I didn’t think that it could be a bite from an infected.” Tracing her tattoo.

“Do you wanna know the story?” She asked, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Ellie.” You said, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I want to.” She said, rubbing your back softly.

“Alright.”

She began telling you about Riley, she first told you the story of their friendship and how she always had a crush on her. It was cute hearing her talk about her teenage years. Comparing them to yours, they seemed normal, your teenage years were brutal, you were forced to do things, horrible things. She told you about her and Joel, how they met and bonded over time and then she told you about what happened at the hospital, what Joel did to get her out of there and how he lied to her about it, you never knew what happened between them but now you understood.

You got why she was angry at him for keeping something like that from her but you didn’t agree with her opinion on this. You knew the fireflies, you knew what they did and you sure as hell didn’t support what they were willing to do to get a vaccine. Killing an innocent girl for a vaccine that didn’t even have a guarantee that it could work, seemed wrong to you.

Ellie looked down at, she wanted to know what was going through your head. You didn’t say anything yet and you seemed to be deep in thought, processing all the information you just got.

Looking up at her, you leaned in pecking her lips softly. “Can I be honest with you?” You asked, stroking her cheek.

“Of course.”

“You won’t agree with me on this but what Joel did.. it was right.” Furrowing her brows at you she went to say something but you didn’t let her. “There was no guarantee that it would’ve worked. My dad was a firefly.. h-he told me some of the horrible things they’ve done to people. How they experimented on them and even turned them into those things just to see if they’re new ‘cure’ would work. Ever since the outbreak, they’ve been promising people a cure and yet they always come out empty handed. You being immune, has got nothing to do with a cure, your blood might be more advanced or something, maybe there are more like you around the world and maybe in the future most people will be immune.” She seemed to process your words, not knowing what to say, she looked up at the ceiling.

“And Joel, he loved you ellie. He would’ve done anything for you. He decided that it wasn’t worth to live in a ‘better world’ knowing that you weren’t a part of it. He was okay with living in this horrible world as long as you’re alive and well I would’ve done the same thing if I was him.” She looked at you, eyes glistening with tears.

“Ellie I’d rather spent my life living in a world where there’s a possibility that I could die out there every time I go out than living in a peaceful world knowing that you don’t even get to be a part of it.” You said, wiping her tears away, you kissed her cheek. She couldn’t believe that you’d rather live in this hell with her than even thinking about the possibility of living a safe and healthy life, without her.

“I let him down.” She whispered, letting more tears fall. “And I never got the chance to forgive him.”

She was feeling guilt. You knew this ugly feeling all to well and you wouldn’t let it destroy her. She was suffering for having treated Joel bad all these years but beating herself up for it wouldn’t bring him back.

“He knows Ellie.” You whispered, hugging her. You felt her pain, you knew exactly what she was going through.

“Joel loved you like his own daughter, no matter what. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like that okay?” Grabbing her face in your hands. “Don’t do this to yourself Ellie, it’s easy to lose yourself in this darkness so fight it, no matter what.” Wiping her tears away, you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “I’m here with you.”

“Thank you babe.” Hugging you close to her, she kissed her forehead. You knew what she was going through right now, you knew because you felt like that too. Ellie couldn’t forgive herself for the way she treated Joel and you couldn’t forgive yourself for saving Abby.

You always tried to do the right thing, helping wherever you could, helping whoever you could and yet you felt like you were a bad person. You saved Joel’s killer. You saved a boy you shouldn’t have saved when you were 14 years old. You always tried saving everyone and in the process of doing so, you started losing yourself.

You realized most people you saved ended up being bad and you’d have to kill them in the end. Abby would be no exception. You were going to kill her, you promised yourself that. For Joel.

You still had nightmares of Joel blaming you for his death before killing you. You knew it wasn’t real, you knew it was your mind making it up because of the guilt you were feeling. This wasn’t Joel, he would never blame you for anything, let alone kill you but it still made you feel bad. It was exhausting and you were tired all the damn time. Your mind either plagued your with nightmares or with Joel’s death, you weren’t sure how long you could keep going like that but you had to stay strong for Ellie, you acted like you were fine, you didn’t show her how weak you actually felt. You had to pull through at least until Abby was dead, you owed this to her, you owed this to Joel.

Waking up it was still dark out. Both you and Ellie fell asleep after your conversation. Looking down at her, she was fast asleep, breathing softly, her arm was around you, keeping you close to her in her sleep, you’d love to stay like that with her for a while longer but you still had to check out the rest of the theater, so you got up carefully making sure you wouldn’t wake her up. Putting your clothes on, you looked at Ellie one more time before going further inside the theater, to see what you would find.

You went up the stairs, and grabbed whatever you could find that would be useful later. You thought about last night. You weren’t sure if what you and Ellie did was right, you wanted her but you had to admit to yourself that it was an act of frustration. You were on the road for weeks, facing bad people, infected and what not, life wouldn’t let you catch a break and the minute you had time to relax you and Ellie used it to forget about everything else for a while, it helped but it wasn’t the right time. You didn’t regret it, not at all. You enjoyed every second of it and would do it again but maybe at a more appropriate time. You just hoped Ellie wouldn’t regret it.

You found an old radio and decided to try and fix it after you got the generator started. It took you a while but you finally managed to fix it. Listening in on them you found some stuff out that would definitely be useful to you. Sitting on the floor you looked at the map and then at the Polaroids, grabbing the one with Abby and the guy named Owen, you looked at it. Deep in thought you didn’t hear Ellie come inside until she said your name softly. Turning too look at her, you smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey babe”. Sitting down next to you. “You good?” She asked, searching for the look of regret on your face. She woke up with you gone and she feared that you changed your mind about her and felt bad for what you two did.

“I am, you?” You asked, glancing at her quickly before looking down again. Feeling a little shy under her gaze.

“Me too.” She said, nervously rubbing her neck she looked at you, blushing at the marks around your neck, it was covered with hickeys and bruises. “Listen (y/n) you don’t- you don’t regret it do you?” Her question making you snap your head to the side, to look at her.

“No! No, god no Ellie.” You said, staring into her eyes now, intertwining your fingers with hers. Hating the fact that you made her feel like you regretted having sex with her.

Breathing out, she felt relieved at your words. For a second she thought you’d go back to the way you used to be a few weeks ago. Moving closer she kissed your temple before looking down at the map.

“I see you fixed the radio.. did you hear something?” She asked, taking polaroid of Abby and Owen in her hand looking at it.

You started explaining to her what you found out and where you’d have to go today, showing her on the map while talking about the WLF’s.

“We have to find Jesse.” You said, looking at the map in worry. You had no idea where he went and you didn’t know where to start looking for him.

“Do you think we should go back to the serevena hotel?” Ellie asked, noticing the concerned look on your face.

“I.. I don’t know. He wouldn’t be there anymore I think.” You said, sighing. “I don’t know what to do, I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m worried too but I’m sure he’s fine. Tommy’s out there as well, who knows maybe they ran into each other already.” Ellie said, shrugging.

“I hope so.” You whispered, grabbing the map off the floor you stuffed it in your backpack. “Should we get going?” You asked, standing up.

Ellie looked up at you, frowning slightly, she was worried about what you were going to be facing today, she didn’t want you to be in danger but she knew you sure as hell wouldn’t sit back and wait for her here.

“Yeah.” She said, getting up.

Nodding your head you turned around to go out the door but a hand pulled you back. Facing Ellie again, she pulled you closer hands on your cheeks she leaned in pressing her lips against yours softly. Sighing into the kiss you closed your eyes, kissing her back with your arms around her neck. Enjoying this moment before you’d go out into this shitty world.

Pulling away from each other, you opened your eyes, gazing into her eyes you pecked her lips once more. “Alright let’s go.” You whispered, grabbing her hand. “Yeah”. Squeezing your hand she followed you out.

You didn’t know what was going to happen today. You didn’t know what kinds of threats you’d be facing but you knew that you’d keep Ellie safe and she would keep you safe.

[papirouge]

I’m pretty sure Matt Walsh is one of those American conservatives who were a failed entertainer/musician turned to conservative media for a paycheck. Someone posted a video about a girl who used to work for those far right spaces and she would say that these personalities online were failed actors and musicians and went to the right of politics for a check since all they need to do is talk. They don’t believe what they say and will ignore the power of the tongue constantly. It doesn’t matter how hypocritical or backwards the message is. If they say it, they get paid. So I take nothing they say to heart. Walsh and his kind had bashed Halle and the little mermaid remake so much, but when someone decides to make it an Asian girl, Native girl, gay girl or trans (or someone else they don’t like), then they’ll come back to Halle’s Ariel and praise it for being accurate. These type of people I find to be lost souls without a higher purpose no matter how much they praise Christian beliefs. I don’t feel Christ is in their hearts as much as the love of money and power and influence. The things that Satan temped Jesus with in the desert.

Yeah, there's nothing more dangerous than people with failed dreams because they are so bitter and hateful against everyone. I think Ben Shapiro is a failed screenwriter and Candace Owen tried to create an app to signal hate crime when she was still a liberal 💀 oh and let's not forget Andrew Tate and his career as an MMA player (heard he was not bad at it but it was kinda nipped into the bud). Miles Cheong (an infamous Musk bootlicker) was a video game reviews and got splashed by the gamergate scandal. I remember when Musk started beefing against Rockstar game/GTA VI (probably tweaking on ketamine) on xitter, Miles went to his defense saying he never played a GTA game, and he got fact-checked with a community note explaining that since he was a game reviewer, he most likely already played that game 😭💀

And conservatives seething at Ariel being Black over the "she's looking like Ariel" really show they hypocrite selves because when Margot Robbie (who was a perfect barbie lookalike) got casted in Barbie, they still had a problem with that cast because she was too old (which is INSANE because barbie can literally be any age), or ugly (which is peak delusion), etc etc... They will always find excuses....

That being said, I don't think conservatives would have have much a problem with an Asian barbie bc Asians (at least easterners) are still pale, Asians don't have the same history as they do with black Americans so rightoids don't have the same deep seated guilt(?) that breeds that resentment & defensiveness whenever they see black people represented in media. I'll never forget how gamerbro got mad at Jade being Black in the new Mortal Kombat game, but didn't have much of a reject reaction when a significant part of the cast got turned into Asians (Syndel, Raiden, Smoke, etc.).. of course you had idiots asking why ninjas were Asians (???) and how they would rather be "Mediterranean" LMAO As if Mediterranean was an ethnicity (Italians and Egyptians are technically both "Mediterranean" - they still are different ethnicities). But it was a failed attempt to act sleek and not straight up say "I prefer those characters to White" ....a mEdiTeRrAneAn ninja wouldn't still make anysense anyway 💀

And yeah, none of these conservatives are Christians. They are modern day pharisees or zealots. It's not coincidence that Jesus rebuked both of these sides. In the desert, satan tempted Jesus with 3 leverage : materialism/desire of the flesh (asking him to turn stone into bread), greediness (asking him to bow before him to have all the glory in the world), and prideful recklessness (asking him to self harm/throw himself over a cliff arguing nothing will happen to him anyway bc he's the son of God). When you think of everything happening in the world, it HAS to fall in either of those category. Satan keeps using those tricks cause they work.

[oh-ranpo]

mistletoe wishes.

pairing: owen joyner x reader an: this is the first in my little Christmas collection that I have ideas for, so I hope you enjoy it! please let me know what you think! if you want to be added to any of my tag lists, please let me know!  word count: 3.7k+

The Christmas party was already well under way by the time you arrived. It had taken you over an hour to decide on which Christmas sweater you wanted to wear, as you had way too many, but you were happy to see that you weren’t the only one who was decked out in the holiday spirit as almost every single one of your friends were wearing an ugly sweater of some kind.

“Look who decided to show up,” a voice greeted you, and you grinned when you turned to see Charlie heading in your direction. He had a drink in his hand and a Santa hat on his head, so you knew that he was already having a good time.

“Sorry I’m late, my wardrobe decisions got the best of me,” you replied as he pulled you in for a hug, his hand holding his cup away from your body so as to not accidentally spill anything on you. 

“Well, it looks like it paid off. That sweater is amazing,” Charlie complimented when he pulled away and he saw exactly which one you had picked out. “Owen is going to die when he sees it.”

You had gone with your festive Star Wars sweater that had Darth Vader on the front wearing a Santa hat similar to the one perched on Charlie’s head. The red and green font across the front read, “I find your lack of cheer disturbing”, and it was one that you had adored ever since your other friend, Owen, had bought it for you the year before. 

“Is he here?” you asked, and Charlie nodded, the smile on his face growing as you both heard Owen’s voice fill the air. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine! I’ll just be hanging around the mistletoe waiting to be kissed.”

“I think he’s still a little bummed that he’s one of the few people here without a date,” Charlie chuckled, and you giggled yourself, despite your heart falling in your chest. You knew exactly how he felt as this was the first year in a couple that you were showing up to Christmas parties by yourself as well.

Your last boyfriend, Jake, had recently broken up with you in October just before Halloween. You had been devastated, as the two of you had already put together your coordinating costumes and you had been looking forward to the holiday season together. You were sure that, when he ended things, your holidays were going to be ruined, only to be proven wrong when Owen had shown up at your apartment that Halloween in his bright yellow jacket and short shorts, ready to pull you out of your own personal misery. Surprisingly, it had worked, and now you knew that you owed him a holiday saving grace.

“I guess I’m gonna go find him,” you told Charlie a few seconds later, and he nodded as you assumed that he went to find the girl that he had been talking to for the last few weeks that he had brought along as his date for the night.

It didn’t take you long to find Owen, as you headed down the hallway in the direction that you had heard his voice. The familiar blonde was leaning against the wall, his phone in his hands as his finger swiped across the screen, seemingly lost in his own little world.

“That doesn’t look like mistletoe to me,” you teased, as you referred back to his previously shouted words, and Owen looked up at the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah, well, I needed to say something to help myself feel better in the midst of this little Christmas love-fest,” he replied sarcastically, as his eyes trailed down to your sweater. A smile immediately formed on his lips as he pushed himself away from the wall and slid his phone into his pocket. “Wow, what a great sweater. Whoever picked that out must have great taste.” He was teasing now, and your heart lifted as it seemed that whatever little mood Owen had been in was starting to dissipate.

“I know, I’m quite the sweater connoisseur if I say so myself,” you teased back, and Owen rolled his eyes playfully.

“Right, cause you picked it out,” he drawled and you grinned even more.

“I did actually. Just a few minutes ago.” This earned another eye roll from your friend before he gestured back the way you had come.

“Did you want to get a drink?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly. Your first mission had been to find him, and now that you had, you were ready for a drink.

The two of you headed towards the kitchen while Owen started ranting at the lack of single people that had shown up to this particular party.

“I know it’s like, cuffing season or whatever, but come on. Does everyone have to be in a relationship?” he groaned as he leaned against the kitchen counter while you poured yourself some punch. You were thankful in that moment that he couldn’t see the look on your face, as your back was to him, because you were sure that there had been a quick flash of hurt that had formed on your features at his words. It wasn’t like you didn’t agree, but it was a painful reminder that you were also newly single, and you were one of the few that was spending the best holiday, in your opinion, alone.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” you replied when you turned around after regaining your composure. Owen had a red cup in his hands now that you knew was filled with the same liquid that was in yours, but he didn’t seem to pay it any attention as his eyes scanned the room. There were a few people hanging around, but they were all so engrossed in the conversations they were having with their dates that none of them seemed to notice either one of you.

“I mean, it’s fine, obviously. Like, good for them. But you can’t blame a guy for hoping for a romantic Christmas miracle.” There was a flash of something in his bright blue eyes when he looked over at you, but before you could place it, it was gone.

“Romantic, eh? Oh, Owen, I didn’t know you were into stuff like that,” you teased, and the corners of his lips turned up slightly as he finally lifted his cup so that he could take a small drink.

“A guy can dream sometimes. I blame the holiday atmosphere,” he responded coolly, and you nodded as you tried to quell the racing of your heart with a sip of your own punch. The feeling was one you had been experiencing a lot since Halloween night, primarily when you were in Owen’s presence, but you pushed it aside and ignored it, just as you had been for the last several weeks.

Eventually, the two of you moved into the living room where most of the rest of your friends seemed to be, and you took the next few minutes walking around and saying hello. You didn’t miss how Owen stayed close behind, though you were sure his reasoning for it was because you were one of the only other single people around, and he didn’t want to get stuck with a big group of couples where he had to pretend like he didn’t feel incredibly awkward being alone.

“Oh my god, look at you!” Savannah cooed when she saw you. “And look at your sweater! Wait, is that the one Owen got you last year?” When you nodded, a small gasp slipped from her lips as she grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you to the other side of the room, away from everyone else. The movement startled you, and the wild look in her eyes made you nervous.

“What are we doing?” you asked apprehensively, just as Savannah spun back around to face you.

“Is there something going on with you and Owen?” The question caught you off guard, but also made your heart clench at the same time. 

“No? Why would you say that?” you asked, and Savannah gave you a pointed look. You had no idea where all of this was coming from, and it seemed like a stretch to say that it was caused simply by your choice in sweaters for the evening. It wasn’t like it was the first time you had worn it out.

“Ever since Halloween, the two of you have seemed… different. I mean, I always thought that Owen had a thing for you, but Jake was always there. But now that he’s out of the picture-“

“Wait,” you interrupted, your hand coming up to stop her. “What do you mean, you always thought Owen had a thing for me?” Your heart was racing again, and when Savannah gave you a sympathetic look, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to try to find the boy in question.

Owen was standing a few feet away, talking with Charlie and Charlie’s date, but the second your eyes landed on him, his eyes lifted to meet yours. It was as if he could feel you looking, and a smile immediately blossomed across his features just before you turned away.

“See, things like that! He’s always looked at you with literal heart eyes, and I was sure as soon as Jake broke up with you, he was going to make his move. I think he’s just been hesitant because he doesn’t want to rush you.” 

You couldn’t believe what Savannah was saying. You and Owen had been friends for a while now, and there was never a time where you thought he might like you. Sure, the two of you had grown quite close, but you just thought that your friendship was special. When he came to cheer you up, he was just being a good best friend. There were no other emotional motives, right? No, there couldn’t be.

“Savannah, I think you’re reading a little too much into our friendship,” you sighed, as you tried to reason with both yourself and her. “Owen doesn’t like me like that.” 

“But how do you feel about him?” she pressed, and that was the topic of conversation you really didn’t want to reach. While, before Halloween, you had never seen Owen as anything other than your closest friend, recently you had started seeing him differently. It all started with the fluttering in your chest when he was around, and slowly it had progressed more and more, but you had gotten quite good at suppressing it. You thought, at first, that it was just because you were lonely after having been in a relationship for over two years. But now, as the feelings grew, you weren’t so sure that could be to blame any longer.

“We’re just friends.”

It was clearly not the response Savannah was looking for, but just before she could protest further, she glanced over her shoulder, and another smirk formed on her lips.

“Hey, what are you guys talking about over here? I hope it’s more interesting than what Charlie and his date are carrying on about.” Owen’s voice made your heart stop, and when you felt his arm brush against yours, you did your best to hide your immediate emotional reaction.

“I was actually just about to go and get another drink. I’ll catch up with you guys soon,” Savannah told him before giving you a quick wink and walking off. You and her were going to have to have a serious conversation about subtlety later on.

“What was that about?” Owen asked, as you turned your attention to him. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you replied quietly, before lifting your cup to your lips once more. You hated that you felt a little weird standing alone with Owen now, and you did your best to shake the conversation you had just had from your mind. “Did you want to maybe go find a game to play?”

“I thought you would never ask,” Owen responded brightly, and you couldn’t help but smile as you both went in search of something to entertain yourselves.

There were several different games that were being played throughout the house, but eventually, you and Owen found a game of charades that you were able to insert yourselves into. Anytime you had played this game, it had always been with Owen because Jake thought that it was stupid. More times than not, you and Owen won, and it had become an almost unsaid rule that you would be partners anytime you played.

“This isn’t fair,” Tori groaned as you jumped from your seat on the couch in victory when you and Owen won. “It’s like you two can read each other’s minds.” 

You grinned as Owen lifted you from your feet and spun you around quickly in a tight hug before setting you down, his arm remaining wrapped around your waist as he turned to face his friend. 

“You just wish you had a connection like us,” he taunted, and even though you knew that he was just being cocky, you still felt another pull in your chest as you slowly moved out of his embrace. He didn’t seem to notice what you were doing, which you were grateful for, as you didn’t move too far out of his reach for it to be obvious.

“We’re just really good at being on the same wavelength with these things,” you added, and Tori gave you a look that was similar to the one that Savannah had given you earlier in the night.

“Clearly not all things,” you heard her murmur, but you didn’t ask for her to elaborate because you were sure that you could already guess what she meant.

“I’m not really ready to go watch everyone be all couple-y again just yet. Did you maybe just want to… walk around?” Owen asked when the rest of the charades group started to disperse. You nodded, though you weren’t sure where exactly you were going to walk as the house wasn’t that big, and it was too cold outside to walk around out there. However, Owen reached out to take your hand as he guided you back down the hallway, away from everyone else, and you didn’t pull away as you followed him.

“You know, I thought this party was going to be a drag as one of the few single people here, but it’s actually been quite fun,” Owen mused as you walked through the hallway. You nodded as you looked up at him, your fingers still laced with his. 

“You’re welcome,” you joked, and when he looked down at you, he laughed.

“I mean, obviously I’m having a good time because you’re here. We just hadn’t talked about the party or anything, so I didn’t know… I wasn’t sure…”

“Wasn’t sure of what?” you asked, as his voice trailed off and he seemed to get lost in his thoughts. Owen’s gaze was fixed on the floor in front of him while he walked, and he didn’t look back at you when he spoke again.

“I wasn’t sure if you would find someone else you could bring so you wouldn’t feel lonely too.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, as you let your eyes scan across the various pictures on the wall as you passed.

“And who in the world would I bring on such short notice? It’s not like I’ve been hanging out with anyone since Jake broke up with me. No one but you, anyways,” you replied, and it took half a second after the words came out of your mouth for you to realize how bad it sounded. “Which I’ve loved, of course. I love spending time with you.”

Owen slowed to a stop in the doorway for the stairs that led to the basement as he dropped your hand and lifted his to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“Actually, about that…” he started, but before he could continue any further, there was a gasp from behind you, and when you both turned to see what was wrong, you were surprised to see Savannah at the end of the hall, a wide smile on her lips.

“What’s going on?” you asked nervously, but instead of responding with words, Savannah just pointed above your head. You and Owen both looked up at the same time, and your stomach rolled when you saw the familiar green plant dangling from the doorway above you.

“Mistletoe,” you whispered, and Owen inhaled sharply from next to you. You hadn’t actually thought that anyone would have put up mistletoe, as it was incredibly cliché, but it was also no surprise that since they did, it would be over a high traffic area like this particular doorway. You hadn’t known about it, and it was clear that Owen didn’t know about it, and now, you felt stuck.

“Umm,” Owen started again, and you looked up at him to see that his cheeks were flooded pink, and you were sure there was embarrassment and awkwardness written all over your face.

“We don’t have to do this,” you replied quickly. “We can just pretend like we never saw it.” When you glanced back down the hall, you saw that Savannah was gone, which was also surprising given that you were sure she would have loved to witness this particular moment, even though you weren’t sure which way it was going to go. It was probably for the best that you didn’t have any kind of audience when you had your heart broken in the middle of a Christmas party.

“I mean, it is tradition,” Owen spoke up a moment later, and you gave him a quizzical look. “I mean, this isn’t how I really saw this happening, but now that we’re here…” His words only confused you more as you tried to piece together exactly what was happening.

“How you saw what happening? Getting a kiss under the mistletoe? Of course, I’m sure it wasn’t with me,” you laughed half-heartedly, and the small smile on Owen’s face quickly disappeared as his blue eyes bore into yours.

“That’s not what I meant,” he insisted, his voice serious now as he took a half-step closer to you. “You’re the only person I could ever imagine wanting to kiss under the mistletoe.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the look he was giving you now, and you found it hard to formulate a response. You had no idea what was happening, and even though Savannah had insisted there was something that Owen felt for you, you hadn’t really allowed yourself to believe it. However, if you truly had heard his words correctly, maybe you were the wrong one.

“I, I don’t understand,” you replied lamely, and Owen’s hand reached out for yours once more, this time more hesitantly than the first. You could see the conflict in his eyes, and while you were hopelessly confused, you could make this emotion out better than the rest. He was nervous. 

“You know that I would never, ever want to do anything to ruin the friendship that we have. But, I’ve pretended like I don’t have feelings for you since the first day we hung out, and I gotta be honest, kissing you here, right now, would possibly make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

You didn’t know what to say. Savannah had been right. You thought that you were so good at reading him, and yet you had missed the mark completely on how your own best friend felt about you. Sure, he was an actor and you were sure that he was great at hiding his feelings, but you felt quite dumb that you hadn’t noticed before. Not that it would have mattered then. But it sure mattered now.

There were a few, long seconds that passed between you as his confession hung in the air before you made your next move. He was waiting for you to make the call on what happened next, and instead of spilling your heart to him with words, you leaned up onto your tiptoes, curled your free hand around the back of his neck, and pressed your lips tenderly against his. 

You could feel him kiss you back immediately, and his free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you smiled against his lips. It felt perfect, though incredibly cliché, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Owen had been the one that had always been there for you. He had been the one to cheer you up after your first heartbreak, and he had been the one to stitch the pieces of your heart back together. The connection you shared was deeper than friendship, and you saw that now. You could feel it pass between you as your kisses continued, and even when he pulled away to rest his forehead against your own.

“For the record, you make me the happiest I’ve ever been as well,” you whispered, causing an even bigger smile to form on Owen’s features. 

“Maybe coming to the Christmas party alone wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” he mused, and you giggled as you buried your face in his neck. “Even better, now I don’t have to leave that way.”

Butterflies raged in your stomach as he kissed you again, but then a few seconds later, the sounds of someone clearing their throat behind you caused you to jump. Both you and Owen turned to see who had just walked into your moment, and you were greeted, once again, by Savannah’s smiling face.

“Just friends, huh?” She asked simply as she slipped past you, and you hid your face in Owen’s shoulder. You could feel him look down at you and then back at your friend, but he didn’t say anything as the blonde disappeared down the stairs. 

When you looked back up at Owen, he was smiling down at you, and your heart skipped in your chest as you immediately smiled back. 

“What do you want to do now?” You asked, and Owen pulled you closer with the arm he had wrapped around your waist before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“We can do whatever you want. I already got my Christmas miracle. I’m good to go.”

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