#still haven’t crawled out of my dumpster fire

[frnkiebby]

that fucking face— that pov— that fucking EVERYTHING~🎃

[gregmarriage]

it’s so hard being a lesbian, bc it’s in our nature to bring out the u-haul immediately, but also, i have a really bad habit of rushing things in an unhealthy way, and losing myself. so now i’m trying to take things slow with ppl (it’s…difficult 🙂)

[xoxo-author]

Squish

I’m back with a new dumpster fire! While Rooster owns my heart, I can’t help but think that I would let Hangman ruin my day and possibly me. 

Pairing: Hangman x Reader (F)

Warning: My writing, probs a lot of misspelling, out of character Hangman, mentions of drinking. 

Please don’t copy my writing :)

I hope everyone is safe this weekend!

I couldn't blame them for staring, I really couldn't. I truly looked like a hot mess and not the kind of hot mess that is portrayed in movies.

My hair which was supposed to be a messy bun now resembles something similar to a bird's nest.  My shirt, which in reality wasn't even mine, was about three sizes too big which resulted in it looking like I had no pants on. My feet were clad in miss matching socks, one had cactus while the other had Christmas weiner dogs, which wasn't unusual for me but usually, I have tennis shoes on but my feet were shoved into some Nike slides that were about 100 sizes too big for me.

The Hard Deck was absolutely jam-packed and full of people. There wasn't an empty inch in this bar it was so packed, so crammed with people. Everywhere you looked you either saw pilot suits or college guys repping their frat house.

Pushing up onto my toes, I try to find the reason that I was forced to crawl out of bed at almost 1 in the morning. I couldn't see shit due to the number of people so with a heavy sigh I drop down to my feet and being to make my way through the sea of people.

After seemingly going from one side to the other, I finally manage to push my way to the back of the bar.

My eyes immediately landed on a slumped-over Jake who was struggling to keep his head up. I look around and notice that Jake wasn't the only one who seemed to be struggling. There were multiple people who were taking over any available space. One with a Hawaiian shirt was laying down on a piano bench. A blonde-haired man was knocked out on the pool table. A dark-haired man with a killer mustache was standing up against a railing with his head resting on his hand while that hand rested on the tip of a pool stick.

"Hey Squish"

A smile makes its way onto my face as I walk over to Jake, letting him pull me into the space between his legs. Jake wraps his arms around me tightly and rests his forehead against my stomach. I bring my hands to his back, letting my nails scratch up and down the expanse of his back, "Hi, Jakey."

"So you're Squish?"

I turn my head, my gaze landing on a girl with dark hair, and let out a little laugh, "That would be me."

"I'm Phoenix, I'm the one who gave you a call."

I move my hands to his head, gently scratching my fingers against his scalp, "What happened?"

Phoenix lets out a laugh, "We were playing pool and everything was fine until this group of guys came over and boosted about how their frat was the college pool champs and blah blah blah. Well one thing led to another and it turned into a battle of egos, the loser bought drinks. Game after game, the college lost and kept buying stronger and stronger drinks hoping they'd get these guys drunk enough so they could win."

"Did they?"

She shakes her head, "Those guys never stood a chance, even as drunk as these guys are they still whooped those college guys' asses."

I laugh, "Men and their egos."

"So how come he's never brought you around?"

I glance down at Jake, focusing on the feel of his hair through my fingers. We were best friends, and have been for the past couple of years. We've always been closer than normal best friends, acting more like a couple than friends. We haven't crossed that line of being more than friends but I have definitely thought about it and I'm 99 percent sure that he has as well.

"We're a bit complicated."

Before she could say anything else, Jake lets out a groan, his hands moving to squeeze my hips, his forehead coming off my stomach so he could look at me, "Squish, I'm not doing so hot."

I nod, glancing over to Phoenix, "I think that's our cue. Phoenix thank you again for calling me and watching him for me."

She nods, "I hope you come out with us next time."

I smile at her before turning all my attention Jake. I move my hands so they were gripping his arms as he starts to stand. One of his hands holds his head, eyes squeezing shut, while his other arm wraps around my shoulders. I place a hand on his chest to make sure he's up right before securing my arm around his waist.

We slowly begin to make our way to the door. I could tell he was trying to keep most of his weight on his side but he was still heavy as I tried to help him through the crowd.

By some miracle, we made it outside. "Jake where's your car?"

Jake mumbles something inaudible before using the hand that was holding his head to point somewhere to the right. I squint as I looked through the cars before landing on his truck. We slowly start to make our way towards the truck, trying our best to avoid holes that would send us both flying to the ground.

I prop Jake up against the truck before reaching into his pockets to find his keys.

"Baby, if you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask."

I spare a quick glance up at him, taking notice of the drunken smirk that was plastered on his face. I pull the keys out and press the unlock button before opening the door for him. I nod my head towards the cabin, "Hop in."

Once  I made sure he was secure, I close the door and quickly make my way to the driver's side. I jam the key into the ignition before reaching down to grab the button that moves the seat up. The seat is slow to move which causes Jake to laugh, "You've got such short legs baby." I wave him off as I start to pull out of the parking lot.

                                                                        ***

I toss his keys into the bowl by the front door before making sure the door was locked before we made our way to the stairs. I watch from the other side of Jake as he tightly wrapped his hand around the banister, an image of him wrapping his hand around my throat flashing through my mind. I quickly shake the thought away before making sure I had a hold of him as we began our ascent up the stairs.

We slowly made our way to the top of the stairs and into my bedroom, heading towards the bathroom where I help him sit on the toilet. Once I made sure he wasn't going to fall off, I turn to my right and reach across the counter to grab his toothbrush. I push toothpaste onto it before turning back to face him, "Open."

Jake's teeth were probably in the top five of his favorite things about himself. He told me that if it wasn't his hair, muscles, or good looks that pulled the ladies in then it was his teeth. Jake literally made me promise that if he was ever too drunk or incapable of brushing his teeth then I had to do it for him. He couldn't afford to miss brushing his teeth.

It was no lie that Jake was adorable when he was drunk. He always had a little smile on his face, he was touchier than usual, and his eyes were usually half-lidded. His hair would always be a mess because he was constantly running his fingers through it. Him being drunk was a rare sight, he usually could drink anyone under the table.

I rinse off his toothbrush before telling him to stand so he could rinse his mouth out.

I begin to push his shirt up, standing on my tip toes to get up his arms before having him pull it the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor. I glance at his pants before looking up at him, "Think you can manage those all by yourself?"

He smirks, about to let out a comment before noticing my look. He brings his fingers to the tops of his pants while I head out to grab him some water and Advil from downstairs.

When I returned he was already on his side of the bed, eyes closed and mouth parted,  he had pulled my side of the covers back for me.

I place the water and pills on the bedside table before reaching under the light and turning the nob, letting the darkness consume the room.

I gently climb over him and once I was settled into my spot, I bring my hand up and let my nails scratch his bare back before letting my eyes close.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

An Honest Review of Mourning Cloak

this review has spoilers so don’t click Read More if you haven’t watched the episode yet!

Mourning Cloak was a disappointing dumpster fire of an episode that deserves to rot in the deepest, darkest circle of Dante's inferno.

It’s such an insult to Charlie as a character, reducing her to nothing but a puppy-eyed, lovesick, boy crazy little bitch who was willing to leave behind her entire fucking family for the ugliest motherfucker on the planet. Seriously, what’s with this dude’s jaw line?? He looks like he’s made out of melting candle wax for god’s sake.

Ali is a terrible character and every single moment he was on screen, the devil on my shoulder kept hoping for him to just fuck off already.

And then the angel on my right came in and agreed.

The first kiss (more like a make out session) was needlessly long and way too heated, like one of the kissers wasn't a literal seventh grader. I felt uncomfortable watching it. It made my skin crawl, especially considering that Ali was played by a nineteen-year-old and Alexa was only FIFTEEN. That’s not okay!

Like, holy fucking shit AMC, are you that stupid to not realize that you shouldn’t make an underage child kiss an adult?? Everything about that scene is so wrong!

I kept repeatedly pausing the video to close my eyes tight or put my head in my hands every time something romantic happened between Ali and Charlie. I gagged, I snapped, I cringed, I shuddered in disgust. It’s so agonizingly hard to watch because 1) the age gap between the actors and 2) it’s so painfully forced. They barely know each other, probably less than twenty-four hours. I bet Ali doesn’t even know her favorite color, but SURE. They can be together!

Like. I get it. Ali is the first teenager she’s seen since Dakota in a long time. Before that, Charlie has been the ONLY child character to show up consistently, aside from a few very minor ones that are more like toddlers and that band of orphans that disappeared at the end of season five and never showed back up again.

BUT ALSO. Has AMC never interacted with a fucking child before??? Do they think all twelve-year-old girls think about is kissing a boy?????

Her father figure is suffering from memory loss that is most likely caused by dementia, her older sister figure has been missing for MONTHS, the rest of her found family is scattered across the state and she has no way to know if they’re alright, THEY ARE LITERALLY IN NUCLEAR FALLOUT—I do not think a romance with THE ENEMY is going to be her top priority in this situation.

Here’s a better idea that they could have gone with: Ali is like an older brother to Charlie. Charlie wants to indulge in that relationship because she’s a little girl who has lost her real family and desires love and affection. However, she’s hesitant because Ali reminds her of Nick. Nick was also like an older brother to her, and she ended up taking his life. Now she’s afraid that the cycle will repeat.

It has no creepy forced romance AND brings back up Charlie’s very unique trauma that hasn’t been mentioned since SEASON FUCKING FOUR.

Also girly has literally never interacted with a teenage boy IN HER LIFE. You don’t think she’d be the slightest bit wary around one??

Oh, but my mistake, I forgot all girls are innately drawn to tall, handsome boys with messy hair and weapons because we’re all programmed with the sole need to breed with every penis-having individual we even get a whiff of. That’s my bad.

There was also implications of Charlie and Ali running away together, EVEN THOUGH THEY BARELY FUCKING KNEW EACH OTHER.

Additionally, the show attempts to age Charlie up to 13, even though she isn't 13 yet during the episode, she's still 12.

But that doesn't make any sense because she was literally 12 when season 7 began, SO HOW FUCKING LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE THE BOMBS WENT OFF.

They ALSO altered her age on her wiki page. It now says she was 11 when she first appeared in season 4, even though it said she was 10 for the past 4 years. But here they are, frantically changing her age just so they can justify forcing a little girl into a gross ass romance plot that aids the story in no way.

But speaking of the wiki! Her decisions throughout the episode aren't like her AT ALL. Let’s just go to her overview for reference.

The first sentence reads, “Charlie is a quiet and introverted young orphan, and rarely engages with people who are not close to her.”

So there's one thing the episode gets wrong about her because it's not like Charlie to just fucking start liking some dude right off the bat.

But most importantly, it says this: “She largely depends on her parental figures, to whom she displays extreme loyalty to the point of killing those who would hurt them.”

TO WHOM SHE DISPLAYS EXTREME LOYALTY.

She would never in a million fucking years abandon her family—the people that have been raising her for the past THREE YEARS—for a boy for barely knows. She would NEVER leave behind Alicia of all people. Did AMC just forget that little relationship they had?? I mean, we already didn’t get to see Charlie reunite with June, who is essentially her mom, so what other relationships will they ruin for her?

AND THEN! And then they went and gave her fucking RADIATION POISONING. Where there is an extremely low chance of survival. Even lower with their lack of modern medicine.

But the thing is…they don’t even make it believable. They only symptom she shows are the rashes which appeared alarmingly fast. Like, a quick Google search would have given them a myriad of symptoms that would have been cool to see, including, but not limited to: nausea and vomiting, headache, fever, dizziness and disorientation, weakness and fatigue, hair loss, bloody vomit.

The hair loss and bloody vomit could have been really cool to see. Like, maybe instead of fainting like she did, she could have doubled over and thrown up blood instead.

Mourning Cloak but instead of Charlie and Ali kissing, Charlie projectile vomits blood all over Ali. God, that would have made the episode so much better and more bearable.

But nah, she just got some rashes. It honestly just looks like she rolled around in some poison ivy and everyone is overreacting.

There are very few things this episode did good.

I liked that Charlie finally got her own title card at the beginning. The butterflies were a neat detail and I liked that you could see the bowling alley in the background.

I liked the way Charlie threw the bowling ball the first time. Very much like a kid who never played bowling before.

I liked that June was noticeably upset and tearing up when she said that Charlie was dying. After all, June lost her own daughter to disease (granted, pneumonia is nowhere near as horrible as radiation poisoning) and Charlie has basically become her new child, so I enjoyed that they let her actually react to the upcoming demise of the kid she’s been helping raise for the past few years. It’s the least they could do.

I liked that Ali actually died. I’m sure nobody was upset when that happened.

I liked that June got to be a protective mama bear. “You lay one hand on her, I will kill you myself” and “Charlie stays with me, under my care” were both very good lines. Also the way that June went up to Charlie and held her hands out for her when Charlie came out of that one butterfly room crying because Ali died made my heart flutter.

I liked the emotions from Charlie when Ali died. The way she staggers unsteadily out of that butterfly room and trips over her own words is extremely well done, especially with the stammering part. Her flashes of rage when she realized Howard killed Ali and then the sobbing despair were also really good to watch, as well as her eyes-squeezed-shut, teeth-bared expressions. Alexa truly is an amazing actress and I will never stop commending her for her performances as Charlie.

Uhh… I liked the butterflies?? The symbolism behind them is pretty cool and it seems to be fitting enough.

Okay, that’s it. The rest is all garbage. A complete waste of not only my time, bur the actors as well. This episode doesn’t even have any replay ability (at least for me) because more than half of the runtime is spent developing the creepy romance instead of doing soemthing actually useful. Charlie FINALLY got an episode to herself since Ner Tamid and THIS is what they do with it.

I just can’t fathom it. I’ve been giving AMC the benefit of the doubt for a really long time, but I’m at the end of my rope, as I’m sure several other fans are, too. I wouldn’t even be mad if it weren’t for Ali having to be there. If Charlie got radiation poisoning somehow WITHOUT the romance, I would have just been upset because she was dying. Fans shouldn’t be seething with rage as I am now.

I don’t know if Charlie going to die. Honestly, for me, it’s 50/50. But because we don’t really see her anywhere else in the trailers aside from the shots of this episode, I don’t have high hopes. Especially because June said Charlie was to stay with her under her care and then Charlie is just never shown with her???

Still, I’m praying that she doesn’t die yet. She has so much potential with Madison coming back. I want to see her deal with her trauma more. I want to see more of her in general. She’s an incredible character and can be fleshed out so much if the show writers actually gave her a chance.

Overall, Mourning Cloak is a huge disappointment. If I wanted to get super angry and pump my body full of adrenaline fueled by burning hot rage to commit unspeakable acts, I would watch this episode.

Fuck you, AMC. Charlie deserves better.

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 5 - 33

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Content warning: self-hatred, death threats, discussion of death, gun

~

“Isaac!” Sam cried hoarsely as he opened the front door.

They came barreling into his arms, burying their head against his chest and squeezing him tight. Isaac’s eyes pricked with tears as he wrapped his arms around them and pressed a kiss to the crown of their head. He released them a moment later. He could barely breathe. His blood pulsed beneath his skin, his heart pounding in his chest, every nerve throbbing.

Tomorrow.

I’m going to get him back tomorrow.

Isaac looked up at the others, all crowded into the kitchen. Finn and Ellis had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, huddled in the corner, their faces pale. Vera stood beside Tori. Her mouth was set, her gaze steady on Isaac as he walked in, tucking Sam beneath his arm. Edrissa shifted her eyes away, standing on the opposite end of the kitchen as Zachariah. Zachariah’s face was haggard. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the month and a half since he’d reached the family. Deep circles were carved under his eyes, and his hands shook at his sides. Gray stood in the middle of the others, eyes wide and focused on nothing. Isaac thought he saw the glimmer of tears as they blinked and looked up at him.

“Um… h-haven’t made the call yet?” Isaac croaked.

“No,” Gray said weakly. “Wanted to… w-wait on you.”

Isaac’s throat tightened as he glanced around at the others. Every second they waited, Gavin suffered. Every inch of Isaac’s body ached with terror, with the unending pulse of hatred that burned through him with each heartbeat: my fault. My fault. My fault.

“L-let’s get it done, then,” he rasped. He felt like he would jump out of his skin if he had to wait another moment. His hand twitched for the gun he had tucked in his waistband. Vera’s eyes caught the motion. Her mouth twisted.

Silently, Gray pulled the cell phone out of their pocket and flipped it open. They hit redial and put the phone on speaker. They held the phone out in the middle of the group. It trembled in their hand.

It rang once. Twice.

There was a muffled clatter on the other end, and a harried voice sounding slightly out of breath answered. “Hello?”

The voice was unfamiliar, but it still sent a chill down Isaac’s spine. This was the firefighter that was going to walk into the town hall tomorrow and lead Isaac to Gavin. This person was going to help save Gavin tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

The possibility of failure didn’t even cross his mind. Gavin was at the town hall; Isaac knew it with every fiber of his being. He was going to save him. The only way he was not going to have Gavin in his arms tomorrow night was if he was no longer breathing.

“H-hello, Vanya,” Gray said with a shaking voice. “The whole gang is here. You’re on speaker.”

“Good, good,” Vanya said distractedly. A shuffling sound. “Sorry, I’m trying to get somewhere where I can talk.”

“Take your time,” Gray said breathlessly.

There was the whisper of movement, the distant sound of a door closing. Vanya’s voice seemed more muffled than before. “Alright, I can talk. Let’s, uh… let’s go over things.”

“What’s the plan?” Isaac said, unable to keep silent any longer. He bit his lip and clutched Sam tighter. They leaned against him and squeezed him back.

“Well first I… I’m, um, sorry for the short notice. This was the soonest I could schedule it and I felt like you’d want to—”

“Yes,” Isaac choked. “Y-yes.”

There was a deep breath over the line. “Okay. Okay. Good. So here’s my plan, the way I have it: I’m going to go to the town hall tomorrow to do a simple fire inspection. I’ve done half the town by now, and the town hall is right in line with the pattern I’ve been taking from east to west. There’s no reason for Schiester to suspect I’m doing anything out of the ordinary.”

Isaac nodded as Vanya spoke. His skin felt like it was buzzing.

Vanya continued. “I’m not going to do a complete fire inspection, because honestly, that would be a waste of time. That building is old enough that it might not even have a fire suppression system. But it’ll probably have an alarm system. There will be a room with an alarm panel that I can check. Sometimes there will even be a premise map that’ll give a detailed map of every floor… but I doubt it.”

“If DFS has been keeping captives in the basement, I doubt he’d leave a map up,” Vera said harshly.

Isaac huffed out a breath. Come on, come on…

“Yeah. Sorry. Anyway. There will be an alarm panel that will probably give me a good idea of how many floors there are. We have to consider the fact that there might be more than one underground floor.”

Isaac’s breath rushed out of him. He hadn’t considered—

“Isaac, this is where you come in,” Vanya said.

Isaac’s body went rigid. Ice crawled into his veins. “Y-yeah?”

“I’m assuming you’re going to be the one going in after him, based on what I talked about with Gr—”

“Yes,” Isaac snapped. His arm tightened around Sam. “I’m going in.”

“Good. Okay. Well, if there are any floors that show up on a premise map or on the alarm panel that the mayor won’t let me access, I figure there’s a pretty good chance that’s where to search. So… once I get a good idea of where Gavin is being kept—”

Isaac sucked in a breath. To hear someone else say Gavin’s name, someone Isaac didn’t know and couldn’t be sure he could trust, made his skin itch.

“—I’m going to get a message out to you. A call or text, probably, so I can send details. But I’ll figure it out. If there is a premise map, I can even give you turn by turn instructions.”

“I’ll find a way in,” Isaac said darkly. “I will.”

“Okay. Well… that’s where my part ends, I guess. I can really only get you the info on whether or not he’s there.”

“He’s there,” Isaac ground out through his teeth. “He has to be there.”

There was a long pause over the line. Then, “Yeah. It would make sense.”

Gray cleared their throat. “At that point, I’ll already be there with the car for my shift like normal. I’ll help Isaac and Gavin to the car.”

Isaac met Gray’s gaze and chewed his lip. Gray’s eyes shone with tears. Their face hardened into a look of agonized determination. Isaac blinked as he realized there were dried tear tracks on their cheeks. He swallowed hard and looked again at the phone in Gray’s hand.

“I’ll be waiting in the car,” Finn said. Their voice broke. “With my, um… med kit.”

Everyone was silent for a long moment. Then Vanya said, “I’m still working on gathering supplies for making a functioning fire department with… maybe a transporting ambulance soon. What are you planning on taking? I… You’re welcome to whatever I have.”

Finn’s throat bobbed as they swallowed. “Basic trauma stuff,” they said in a monotone. “Suture kits, tourniquets, trauma dressings, ten-gages, SAM splints, then…” They counted off on their fingers. “Fentanyl, ketamine, fluids, dextrose, epi, IV and IO kit, benzos, blankets and heat packs, vital signs stuff, my, um, airway kit w-with the surgical cric kit…” They shuddered, their face going paler by the second. “I’m thinking about packing some IV antibiotics just in case… Let me think, um…” They wet their lips. “Should I pack anything else?” they said in a quavering voice.

There was the uneasy sound of Vanya clearing their throat. “Um… not anything I can think of. That was, um… a lot more than I thought you’d be packing. I… if you need all that…” They fell silent. “Um… d-do you… have a hospital in mind if he, um… needs that?”

“No hospitals,” Finn said dully. “Whatever is wrong is something that… I n-need to fix.”

Isaac raised his head to look at them. His heart sank at the look of overwhelm overshadowed by flat determination on their face.

They feel as responsible for them as I do, just… different. He felt a swell of gratitude in his chest that threatened to choke him.

“Well… alright,” Vanya said softly. “If you need a restock before you head north again… just let me know. I’ll do my best to get supplies to you.”

“Thank you,” Finn said brokenly. Their eyes filled with tears. Ellis clutched their arm and they hugged Ellis tightly.

“We can’t bring too many people,” Vera said, her eyes unfocused. “Otherwise I would… I… would go.” She nodded slowly and looked up at Isaac. “You know I—”

“I know,” he said gruffly. He shivered like a chill had just gone through him. Sweat prickled under his shirt. “That means that… I… should probably be down there already when Gray arrives.” He rubbed his wrist against his hip, barely feeling the scrape of his belt against the scars that itched there. “I’ll head back into town after this, get a ride south. I’ll make sure no one sees or follows.”

“Where will you stay?” Vera said softly.

“In a fucking tent,” Isaac snapped. “On the sidewalk. In a dumpster. I don’t care. I’ll figure it out.” Before the words were fully out, Isaac ducked his head. He looked up at Vera beneath his lashes, already shrinking with shame.

A muscle ticked in Vera’s jaw. She stood perfectly still beside Tori, looking at Isaac evenly.

“I’m sorry,” Isaac whispered. “I… I’m…”

“It’s okay,” Vera said, and Isaac raised his head again. “I’m just… trying to work out the details.”

“I would offer my place, but… we really shouldn’t risk you being seen with me,” Vanya said, sounding apologetic.

“I could ask Mathias,” Isaac said. “He might say yes.”

“We’ll figure it out as soon as we hang up with you, Vanya,” Gray said. For the first time since Isaac had left to search the north, Gray sounded… not quite hopeful, but like there was a little bit of life in their voice again. Their fingers were white where they clutched the phone. “Thank you, Vanya. Truly. I… can’t express how grateful I am for your help. How grateful we all are.”

“Y-yeah,” Isaac croaked. “Thank you.”

The others all murmured their thank yous. Even Edrissa, speaking for the first time. She still leaned away from Isaac, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Well… I’ll, um, get going. If you need anything, call me back on this number. Also, the inspection is scheduled for ten AM, so…”

“I’ll be there,” Isaac said with iron in his voice. His hand itched to hold his gun.

“Okay. Well… good, um, good luck, everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or not, maybe. Either way…”

“Good luck,” Gray rasped.

“Yeah,” Vanya mumbled. “Alright… take care.”

The line went dead.

Isaac let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He rocked forward, his arm squeezing even tighter around Sam’s shoulders, his eyes burning with tears. His heart felt like it would leap from his chest.

Tomorrow. Ten AM. Tomorrow.

His hands felt numb. He swiped at the tears running down his cheeks and into his beard. He felt something shift inside him, like something was about to snap. Blood pounded in his ears.

“Something we have yet to discuss in detail,” Gray said softly, “Is that… once we… have Gavin, Schiester will most likely come after us.”

“Let him fucking come,” Isaac growled. “I’ll rip that motherfucker’s head from his fucking—”

“If we kill him,” Gray said gently, “We risk facing the anger of the entire north.”

“If we kill Schiester, then we tell the entire fucking north what he’s been doing to kids and innocent people with shit fucking luck when they come through Crayton,” Isaac spat back. Edrissa drew away from Isaac, closer to Tori’s side. Tori’s hand went to her shoulder and stroked back and forth, soothing.

Gray was silent for a moment. Then, they murmured, “We could do that anyway.”

Isaac froze mid-breath, rage crawling under his skin, solidifying into something like vicious hope. “Y-yeah?” he croaked.

Gray shrugged jerkily as they slid the phone back into their pocket. “Even if he took those pictures down, they’re probably still in his office. If I see an opportunity – Gavin is the priority, he’s the only priority, but if I get the chance – I’ll grab them. Find a way to disseminate them. Those…” Gray’s voice twisted. “Those people… Their families deserve to know what happened to them.”

“But Gavin first,” Isaac said brokenly. “I… I need to get Gavin out first.”

Ellis wet their lips and spoke. “Guys… Hate to be the guy to point this out, but he might not be—”

“He is!” Isaac cried, whirling on them. His arm loosened from around Sam’s shoulders. “He is! He… he has to be there. H-he has to be… alive.” His chest tightened with a sob. “He’s there,” he whispered through numb lips. “He has to be.”

Sam wound their arm around his waist again. Their hand brushed the gun tucked in Isaac’s waistband. They froze and looked up at him, their eyes wide. There was a hint of fear in their gaze. Isaac pushed down the feeling of guilt that rose in him and looked away.

“All the same,” Gray said, holding a placating hand out towards Isaac, “We should pack tonight, and be prepared to move. Regardless of how the plan goes.”

“It’ll work,” Isaac said fiercely.

Gray’s head fell forward. “Regardless,” they continued softly, “We should be ready to move. Finn, Ellis, if you’ll—”

“We’ve been ready to go for weeks,” Ellis said, and shifted their feet. “We never really unpacked. Let’s be honest… we knew this was going to get ugly. But once we have the idiot back…” They shrugged and stared at their shoes. “We can settle in then. Wherever it is we end up.”

Isaac’s throat was tight. “And I should get going,” he murmured. “I need to get back home, find a discreet ride south. I, um… I need to figure that out.”

Sam’s arm tightened around his waist again, and he looked down at them. They stared up at him, tears welling in their eyes. He pulled them close and crushed them to his chest.

“Isaac,” Sam whimpered against his shirt.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Isaac murmured against their hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, with Gavin. I’ll have him tomorrow.”

Sam shuddered and clutched at him. “I… I know.”

Tears burned in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and kissed their forehead, trying to ignore the tears than ran into their hair. “Love you,” he whispered. Dread ached in his stomach at how much the words sounded like goodbye.

He swayed with them, realizing for the first time how much he’d missed this. He missed his little sibling in his arms, clutched tight. He’d barely seen them at all for the past…

The past thirty-five days.

They sniffled and pulled away. Vera was at his side, and she pulled him into a hug as well. He wound his arms around her waist and nearly lifted her off the floor with how hard he squeezed her.

“We’ll get our boy back,” Vera mumbled, her face pressed against his shoulder. “We’ll get him back.”

Isaac said nothing, only nodded. After a moment, he loosened his hold. She stepped back, and Tori took her place.

They all embraced him, one by one – Gray, Finn, Ellis, Zachariah. Even Edrissa walked up to him and stiffly stuck her hand out for him to shake. He could feel her fingers trembling. He kept his gaze down and bowed his head apologetically, only too aware of the rage that boiled inside him, just beneath the surface. When she drew back, she wiped her hand on her skirt.

When he turned to leave, Gray held out the phone. “Take this,” they said. “In case we need to contact you.”

Isaac tucked it into his pocket. “Sure thing.” His voice was hoarse. “I just need to grab some things.”

He turned and walked down the hall to the bedrooms. When he stopped in front of the room he’d shared with Gavin, his stomach dropped. He placed his hand on the doorknob. It was cool under his fingers. He drew in a deep breath and turned it, pushing the door open.

His breath caught in his chest. It was exactly the same as he’d left it, the morning he’d discovered Gavin had been taken while he slept. The bedspread was rumpled, the drawer of Gavin’s nightstand still slightly open. The curtain was drawn, but the last rays of the afternoon sun lit the purple fabric, casting the room in a strange, dim light. As he caught his breath again, he was nearly brought to his knees; he could just barely catch a hint of Gavin’s scent still in the room.

Isaac forced down his tears, forced down the way his hands shook, the way he wanted to collapse to the floor and sob his heart out. He went to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He took only the knife that lay tucked along the side, the handle sticking out from under a pair of pants. He strapped the sheath to his belt and turned to go to the bed.

He didn’t even have to look as he reached for the knife he had tucked between the mattress and the bedframe all those weeks ago, so that when the time came to protect Gavin from the threat he’d known, somehow, was coming – he could. His fingers wrapped around it and it felt dull in his hands. Heavy. Useless.

Useless. Useless. Useless.

He shoved the thought away and straightened up.

As he walked through to the front of the house again, he looked at his family, still all gathered in the kitchen, huddling together as if for warmth. Tears moved silently down Gray’s face, now. Isaac bit down on his tongue, holding back his own.

“I’ll see you all… tomorrow,” he said, feeling the weight of the gun against his lower back.

“See you,” Vera murmured.

“I’ll call you with any updates,” Gray said, wiping their face on their shirt.

“L-love you, Isaac,” Sam said softly.

“Love you, too,” Isaac croaked. He turned to go. His hand curled around his knife as he pushed open the door and walked out into the golden afternoon sun.

Continued here

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[bebepac]

Substitute Queen (Happy Birthday Queen Walton!)

This is a special edition of Fast Forward for my friend @queenwalton as she enjoys this series I've created a lot and it is her birthday! (Well a day early!)

I'm pretty sure you have been following along with me since I started writing on the fandom a little over a year ago. Thank you for your friendship and support. I hear from you after every chapter I post and I love it. Also thank you for being my trustworthy reader of infinite snippets. I hope you have an absolutely wonderful birthday my friend. 🥰🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤

A/N:  Thanks @dcbbw​ for bouncing some ideas around with me, and giving me a few to make this birthday fic even better.  Thank you girl.  

Summary:  Riley and Liam go on their first vacation alone since the events of Ellie’s kidnapping.  Maxwell and Taylor take care of all the children.  Maxwell throws a “Baby” Beaumont Bash.

Original Post Date: 03/24/21 at 11:55AM EST

The Book:  TRH and Beyond

Pairing: Liam x Riley  / Maxwell x Taylor 

Warnings:  None other than hilarious fluff

Word Count: 2425

Song inspiration for this chapter: Baby Shark (Trap Music Remix) 

I don’t own rights to this hilarious music.  

Liam saw Riley standing  in the study with her back turned to him.  The King of Cordonia shifted seamlessly into stealth mode as he crept silently into the study, surprising his Queen by pouncing on her like a lion, grabbing her and slipping his arms around her waist, and sensually planting a soft kiss to the sensitive skin on her neck.  He gently rubbed himself against her.  

“Take a break for a little while my love.”

He felt her body tense up.

“EEEWWWWW GROSS!!! NOT YOUR WIFE!!!  OOOOH GOD!!!!!!! NOT YOUR WIFE!!! PUT THAT THING AWAY!!!!!!  YOU HAVE FOUR KIDS!?!?!?!?!?  AREN’T YOU GUYS TIRED OF DOING THAT?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?”

Liam quickly recoiled from her.   Liam looked genuinely horrified when she turned to face him.

“I’m so sorry Taylor.  From behind, I swear I couldn’t…I mean I didn’t…..”  

“Bleh!!!! Don’t finish that sentence!!!!!!

Riley walked in the room seeing Taylor and Liam visibly uncomfortable.

“What did I miss?”  

“I need a bath!!!  Your husband thought I was you.  Apparently we look the same from behind.”  

Riley glanced at Taylor.  “I mean…. He’s really not completely wrong Tay.  Now that you had the twins, we really do.”  

Taylor scowled.  

“And that right there is why no one will mistake us for each other from the front.  Your scowl face.”

“Well this is a sufficiently awkward conversation, so I’m going to go, especially after I’ve completely embarrassed myself. Riley when you’re finished, please come by my study.”  Liam still had a flush on his cheeks and ears.

“For real, put that thing away Liam, it’s barely lunch time.”  Taylor grumbled.

“I will be there.”  She winked at him.  

Liam’s smile returned.  

“Can one of you keep it in your pants please?  You two are like horny teenagers.”  

“I’m okay with that.”  They both said in unison smiling at each other.  Liam left the room.

“Are you going away for your wedding anniversary?”

“We probably should, but we have our date nights, and we can always sneak some time alone now that the kids are a little older, now that everyone is potty trained and not on the boob anymore.  God I missed my boobs being mine, and now that they are again, of course they look like a dumpster fire after breastfeeding four kids.”  

“Well that’s one hell of a bra then.”

“Who are you telling? They would be dragging the floor otherwise.”

Taylor laughed.  

“Please don’t do that visual to our body.”

“It is our body right?”  

Riley and Taylor giggled.  

“You two should go away alone.  You two never get adult time… And I don’t mean just for that.  You two apparently get more than enough adult time for that.” 

“Tay, it’s just that we haven’t really been away from the kids.  Anywhere we go, we travel as a family.  I feel safer that way, so does Liam.”  

“Because of me right?”  

“Tay….”

“It is.  The last time you two tried to go on vacation was when I took Ellie, and you haven’t been apart from them a day since.  It’s my fault you two are afraid to be away from your children."

“Taylor, Liam and I have forgiven you for that, a long time ago.  We know that you’re not the same person you once were.”

“Prove it, you two take a trip, and it’s a trip you two desperately deserve. I promise the palace will be still standing when you get back.”

Taylor smiled at Riley.

“Please let me do this for the two of you. It’s been one thing after another, and you guys deserve a vacation. Let me and Max take care of the kids.”

“Tay… you do realize that would be your two barely crawling plus my four.  You two would be taking care of six children.”  

“And your kids are pretty self sufficient.  They can feed themselves.”  

“You’ll need some reinforcements, Tay. For real.  I’ll call Drake and Hana to help.”  

“I really think Max and I can handle it.”

“Tay…”  

“Riley, we got this.”

*^*^*^*^* Taylor and Maxwell *^*^*^*^*

“You volunteered us for WHAT?!?!?!?!?”

“Oh come on Max, they’re just kids.”

“Yeah, and we’ve been lucky to keep the two of ours alive so far.  We’re going to be outnumbered Softie. There’s going to be six of them and two of us. You have put them at an unfair advantage.”  

Taylor laughed.

“This is not a war Maxwell.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a war.”

A week later,  Riley and Liam were preparing to leave for their first vacation alone, since they had children.  

Riley kissed and hugged each child.

“Now you kids behave for Auntie Taylor and Uncle Maxwell.  I’m counting on you Miss Crown Princess for a report when I return. You know you’re first in command Ellie.”

Ellie stood up straight and squared her shoulders.  “I promise Daddy, we’ll all be good.”

Ellie gave a little salute.

Liam gave one back.

“As you were, my princess.”

Riley, still kneeling, smoothed down Liberty’s little curls.  Her little lip was already trembling.  

“Mommy loves you baby.”  She kissed her little cheeks.  

“Are you ready to leave My Love?”  

Riley stood up nodding.   Liam reached out her hand for hers.  

They started to walk towards the SUV.  

“Mama.”  

Liam felt Riley stop.  

“It’s okay My Love we can do this.”  

Riley’s eyes were quickly filling with tears.

Riley resumed her stride.

“Dada?”

The little inflection of a question in Liberty’s voice made Liam stop dead in his tracks. His grip tightening on Riley’s hand.  Liam took a deep shaky breath.

"Don't look back Liam, you know we won't leave if we do."

Bastien and Nico could see how the King and Queen were struggling to leave their children.

“Your Majesties, come this way.”  Bastien called out to them gently.

Both the King and Queen were in tears hearing their youngest burst into tears at the sight of them leaving, as they climbed into  the black SUV.

“It’s okay.  They’ll be fine Riley. They have reinforcements.”

“Taylor wouldn’t let me call Drake or Hana.”  

Liam hit a button on his phone. He put the phone on speaker.

“What’s your location?”  

“Already inside the palace.”  

“Olivia?”  

“And you fully understand the plan?”

“Let your tiny humans drive Taylor and Maxwell insane?”

“NO!!!!”

“I know the plan Liam! Not be seen and keep a watch on them, and only appear if they need help with the children. “

“Yes. Thank you Liv.”  

“I do this because we’re friends Riley.”  

“Liberty has a set of lungs on her, she hasn’t stopped crying since you two left.  I’m sure she’ll be fine.”  

“Thank you Liv.”  

“They’ll be fine, i’ll be watching. Enjoy your vacation already.”  

“Where are we headed? Since you wouldn’t disclose a location to me, I literally packed for everything including plagues and fire rain.”  

“For some fun in the sun on our own private beach.”

“Good thing I packed a bathing suit.”  

“You won’t be needing it.”  

Riley smacked Liam’s arm as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

*^*^*^*^*^* Meanwhile back at the Palace *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“C’mon Libby it’s okay.   Mommy and Daddy will be back.”  

Taylor picked her up, rocking her in her arms.  

“Shhhhhh… it’s okay Libby.   Auntie Taylor is here, so is Uncle Max.”

Libby’s cries subsided a little but not significantly.

“Can I try?”  Ellie asked.

Ellie crossed her eyes and made a funny face at Libby causing her to break out into a fit of giggles.  

“We’re evening out the odds.  Three on three, I like those odds better Taylor.  We might actually survive this. They will listen to one of their own.  Ellie is like our super agent spy.”

By the end of day one both Taylor and Maxwell were exhausted, tending to and chasing around six children.  At least their two were relatively easy to catch, as they were barely mobile.

“Why did I think the children being self-sufficient was going to be a good thing?  I’ve never been this tired in my life.”  

“Is this what we have to look forward to when they’re older?”  

"Seems like it."

^*^*^*^* Liam and Riley *^*^*^*

“My Love?”  

“Yes Dear?”  

“You don’t have to cut up my food for me.”  

Riley had absentmindedly cut up Liam’s chicken into very small child bite size pieces. She had also ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Oh!  I didn’t even realize.”

Liam smiled at her, running his fingers through his hair.  “We’ve been parents for so long, it’s been a long time since you and I have been truly alone.”  

“You know what I want to do after dinner?” Riley inquired.

Liam raised his eyebrow with an intrigued smirk.  

“I think I might have an idea of exactly what you want to do.”  

Liam and Riley went to sleep after dinner.  Both stretched out in the bed.  Both had covers, and no kids arms, legs, feet, or hair  in their face.

Every night was like that Liam and Riley got the most sleep they had, had in years…. Well after other adult activities. Liam had even turned off his alarm living in the moment with Riley.

*^*^* Baby Beaumont Bash *^*^*^*

Taylor was feeding the girls when she heard loud thumping music. Taylor could hear jingling. Taylor glanced up, seeing the chandelier above her head was thumping to the beat of the music. Thank goodness the twins were used to Maxwell's antics, and Lily and Violet were sleeping right through it. She put Violet back in the crib and walked down the hall. The closer she got to the east wing ballroom the music got louder.

Taylor pulled the doors open to the ballroom, smoke bubbled down the hall.

There were multi colored blinking lights, a disco ball spinning from the ceiling and a snack table full of candy, sweets and soda.

Maxwell had a DJ station set up  playing a song on an endless loop, bobbing his head to the music with his headphones on.

And Riley's kids hopped up on kiddie cocaine (aka sugar) dancing and flailing around in what Taylor could only think to describe as a kiddie rave.

"Is that….. a trap remix of baby shark?"

"Heck yeah it is."

And the kids were loving it.

Maxwell let the music keep playing and he had a bottle of champagne in one hand calling Ellie and Adam over to him. He had a sword in his right.

"Adam you hold the bottle."

"You are not giving them champagne Maxwell! They're children!"

"I'm shocked at you Softie. What kind of Uncle do you think I am? It's just sparkling apple cider. Okay Ellie, you get the sword because you're the oldest. And what you want to do is slice just like I'm showing you. Oh, and don't kill your brother, that would be bad."

"I don't think Daddy would let us do this Uncle Maxwell." Ellie said wearily.

"Heck no he wouldn't.  Well not with Maxwell teaching you. If anyone is going to teach the crown princess to slice anything while someone else is holding it, it's going to be me."

Olivia appeared walking out of the shadows of an alcove.

"Have you been here the whole week?"

"Of course! You know Liam and Riley. And these kids are never going to fall asleep, if we don't have them dance the sugar out."

"I've got just the thing.”

 Max cranked up the music.

*^*^*^*^* Liam and Riley *^*^*^*^*

"Liam I miss them."

"We'll be home to see them by noon tomorrow."

"Liam I know you miss them too, log into Crown Cam, so we can see them."

Riley sat next to Liam as he logged into Crown Cam.

As they went to each room they noticed none of the children were in their beds.

"It's past their bedtime."

"Did you really think Max and Taylor would get all kids to bed on time?"

"No but…."

They clicked on each room, until they got to the ballroom on the east wing.

Both gasped at the scene. Liam clicked the button enabling the cameras to pick up sound in the room.

Both looked at each other, seeing their kids wildly dancing and flailing about. Libby was excitedly jumping up and down with a glow stick while Olivia sang on stage.

"Is Olivia really singing and rapping to Let It Go?!?"

Olivia's Rap

Liam nodded, watching the scene for a few more moments before slowly closing his laptop.

"I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation for all of this."

*^*^*^*^*^* kiddie rave *^*^*^*^*

Taylor danced with the kids while Max continued at his DJ station.

"Olivia can flow, can you believe it Max?!?"

"OLIVIA!!!!! LANGUAGE!!!!!!! THEY'RE CHILDREN!!!!" Maxwell screamed.

"Are you serious with me right now?!? Language?"

Olivia rolled her eyes in complete annoyance.

"Of all the things you've done, LANGUAGE is your hard stop? You gave the crown princess a SWORD to slice a bottle out of her younger brother's hands, and instructed her not to kill him. That's entirely okay, but CURSING is where you draw the line in the sand? Seriously Maxwell?"

Both Taylor and Olivia glared at Maxwell for a few moments in confusion.

"Liv keep going!!! We have to tire them out!!!"

Olivia resumed her rap battle….with herself.

Within an hour it looked like a crime scene in the ballroom. Children were passed out everywhere.  

Taylor picked up a sleeping Ellie, Olivia, grabbed Adam, and Maxwell carried Jaiden and Liberty upstairs to their beds.  

"They need baths, their faces and hands are dirty with crumbs and sweets."

"We'll give them baths in the morning, before Liam and Riley get back." Maxwell was confident they could get it done.

They didn't. They all slept in instead.

When Liam and Riley arrived back at the palace, they didn't know what to expect.

They saw their kids, all lined up wearing yesterday's clothes, dirty faces, and wild chaotic hair, looking like they had their own kiddie walks of shame.  But each child had a huge smile on their face.

Liam walked up to Ellie.

"Your report my Crown Princess?"

"Daddy! I sliced a bottle top off a bottle while Adam held it."

"And I didn't die!" Adam screamed confidently.

"We had fun!" Jaiden exclaimed.

"Daddy did you know Auntie Liv is a gangsta rapper?" Ellie's voice sounded like she was in complete awe.

"Yes My Princess, we saw."

Olivia turned pale, then she knowingly nodded. "I should have known you two would access Crown Cam."

Riley turned to Maxwell.

"So you threw a Beaumont Bash…. for our children?"  Riley asked.

"Of course, gotta train them up right!! Little Blossom!"

"Sure, they're a little dirty, but at least the palace is still standing, what else would you expect from the Substitute Queen?" Taylor commented with a smirk.

Happy birthday! I hope you enjoyed this!

Tagging the comments

[sadachmesarthim]

peter learns to shut the fuck up challenge

oh my god hi okay i’m (kind of) freshly back to tumblr and haven’t written content like this in over half a decade please be nice to me i am a broken 21 year old who can’t take criticism for shit

marvel cinematic universe: peter!centric, eventually starker 

content: graphic depictions of violence, extremis!flash, selective mutism, brief talks of dying but it’s not that bad tbh, slightly aged up peter (he’s 18), use of slurs and derogatory terms, both in reference to self and someone else

summary: peter’s taken enough shit in his life. he lost his parents, he lost ben, he’s dealt with the number of shitty men may brought home - flash was like the cherry on top of the shit sundae. after a particularly bad day of taunting, peter is fed up, and decides to teach flash a lesson - but our baby boy is in for a big surprise when he discovers he isn’t the only freak kid at midtown tech. 

............................................................................................................................

Peter'd been categorized as a loudmouth for years - by May, his friends at school, the Avengers he fought (and fought beside) in Berlin.

Never able to stop his nervous ramblings, his mouth tended to run away with him. He somehow never developed a filter, often getting himself into quite a bit of trouble. Usually his pretty face and quick thinking kept him from any real repercussions.

But there was one such instance he... couldn’t exactly get out of.

He'd been struggling with Flash's bullying for years. He'd called Peter names, hurled slurs, spat out indecencies - normally, Peter could take it. But after the bite... they all landed so much harder.

Peter didn't understand it - spiders didn't have emotions, did they?? Even if they did, that doesn't explain why he's so sensitive. If anything, you'd think the bite would make him aggressive, or argumentative, or angry - spiders were predators, not pussies. What was his problem?

He'd finally had enough one day at the end of his senior year. Flash was being particularly snide - excitement from graduation pushing his normal antics into overdrive.

"Oh come on, Penis. You gonna fight back one of these days or are you just gonna keep hanging your sad faggot head around town?" Flash followed him out of the school building, laughing at his own "joke".

What he wasn't prepared for was an actual answer to his question.

"Yeah, actually. I will."

Peter turned around, grabbing Flash by the straps of his backpack. He glanced around, checking for spectators, before shoving his bully into a secluded alley just ahead of them.

Flash, surprised (but not entirely put off), worked himself free of the backpack and slid behind the smaller boy. Sure, Peter was enhanced, but Flash still had a good head on him height wise.

"Finally decide to manhandle me back, huh Parker? That's so cute." Flash smirked, looking him up and down as he crowded Peter into the corner. "If you're feeling so big and brave, go ahead."

Peter looked up, confusion warping his soft features. Flash... wanted Peter to hit him? Why?

Before he could actually ask, he found himself collapsing on the ground, gasping for air. Flash drew his fist back, shaking off the punch he'd just thrown into Peter's side. He snatched his bag off the ground, tossing it away from Peter & beside a nearby dumpster.

"Christ, you look so pathetic down there! I almost forgot how small you were for a second," he laughed, taking a second to gloat. "Come on, Parker. What happened to finally fighting back?"

Peter'd always been a bit overzealous - I mean, c’mon, the kid grew up listening to stories about Steve Rogers for fucks sake, how could he not develop an underdog complex? He'd spent his childhood defending his family name, his teens protecting May from overzealous asshole boyfriends, and the most recent few watching over all of Queens.

So yeah, of course Peter was going to take this opportunity to kick some ass if he could.

He struggled to his feet and stumbled forward, regaining his balance and breath as he met Flash's eyes. The tiny success was short lived, though, as he felt himself flying backward and up into the brick wall behind him. What the actual fuck?

Peter's senses never failed him - and yet, they just had, twice in the last five minutes! What the fuck? How was Flash able to hit him without warning? How was Flash able to throw him?

The confusion must've been all over his face - Flash laughed as Peter crumpled & didn't attempt to get up again. He crowded into Peter's space, getting close to the little spider's ear.

"You really think you're the only special one in Queens, don't you Penis? You think you're the only one that can break a grown man in half?" Peter groaned, wincing at the pain behind his eyes. "Newsflash, freak. You're not special, you're not important, and you're not leaving this alley alive."

It was then, as Peter glanced back up, that Flash's eyes were glowing a sick green-grey unlike anything he'd ever seem. The senses that'd previously failed him so tragically now did a full 180, sending a wave of cortisol through his system. The need to runclimbswingescapego washed over him, the spider inside completely overriding the human.

As if he'd read Peter's mind, Flash quickly grabbed him by the throat, cutting off both his airway and any potential escape route. He squeezed hard, dragging Peter up the wall until they could look each other in the eye. He crowded closer, setting Peter's skin on fire in the worst way possible.

Peter was choking, clawing at the hand on his throat and trying to kick the monster in front of him away. Flash, annoyed, tightened his grip until Peter's hands dropped and his face turned purple.

Flash chuckled, dropping a now barely conscious Peter into a puddle on the rocky ground. He opted to trade his hands for the steel toed boots he'd so carefully laced up that morning, lips curling as the idea took shape in his head.

The first kicks landed on Peter's stomach, forcing air and blood from his mouth. The next were more stomps than anything, not aimed with any thought or finesse. Each landed heavier than the first, quickly pushing Peter toward a complete blackout. The spider was still screaming, but Peter couldn't do jack shit about it.

He lay back, resigned to his fate. I'm going to die here, he thought, desperately wishing he'd just kept his fucking mouth shut. A little bit of bullying was so much better than dying a week before graduation.

But, somehow, he didn't. Sure, Flash beat him all to shit - May had the hospital bill and the new grey hairs to prove it. But Peter lived.

It took Flash a while to get it all out of his system. The more pain he inflicted, the brighter his eyes got, slowly taking over any illusion of empathy his once brown irises had. He did, eventually, tire, and grow bored of kicking the same stunned spider. When he’d had his fill, he reached down for his backpack, hooking it onto his shoulder and smiling to himself.  

Before leaving, though, he turned back to Peter, crouching down and settling mere inches from his face. 

“Looks like I got Peter Parker to finally shut the fuck up.” Flash looked down at him as he rose, spitting on Peter’s face as a last hurrah before ditching him and the alley completely. 

Peter crawled his way out of the alley after Flash left, blood soaking his shirt and face so swollen he was nearly unrecognizable. He dragged himself to the nearest shop, the kind (and very distraught) owner calling an ambulance the second she'd seen him.

............................................................................................................................

6 weeks later he was back to 100%, diploma in hand, ready to get the fuck out of Queens and up to Cambridge. He'd spent enough time being coddled, people hovering over him and tending to wounds he knew would take care of themselves. These took significantly longer, the extent of the damage worse than anyone thought - but he still healed, and was ready to stretch all eight of his metaphorical legs and get back to school.

The only problem? He couldn't speak.

Okay okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic - his vocal cords and tongue and everything still worked perfectly fine. But every time Peter opened his mouth, words failed him.

It was like Flash's hand was back around his throat, forcing air out of him and the words back inside. How the fuck was he supposed to go to school if he was effectively mute? Peter’d learned Italian in school, not ASL (a choice he was quickly regretting), but even if he had, he wasn't sure his hands would be willing to speak for him either. All forms of effective communication were stolen from him. 

He had less than a month before he was supposed to be in the MIT dorms and starting class. 90% of his prereqs required group discussion and verbal participation, so Peter was well and truly fucked if he couldn't figure this out.

Besides, what superhero couldn't talk? How lame was that? Half of his whole schtick was sassy one-liners. At this point, Spiderman was becoming synonymous with snark!

His first night back in May's apartment, he cried himself to sleep thinking about it. This sudden feeling - all grief and loss and shattered expectations he didn't even know he had... his whole world was suddenly gone, and he didn't know what the fuck to do. 

The worst part?

He didn't even have the words to ask for help.

[mandakatame]

Catacombs AU

Extension of the TKoL AU by CartoonAddict564

OP: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34196134/chapters/85087078

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

I haven’t been able to really get this AU out of my head and it’s difficult to put it down as a sufficient story. Here goes, though. Maybe somebody can make something out of this? Credit me if you do, please.

Adrien is kicked out of his home. All he has is a backpack with a few sets of clothes, food, water, and a wad of cash. In his pockets is his ID and an old flip phone.

Everybody sneers at him and talk as he has no choice but to walk on the public sidewalk. It’s not long before he is pushed into an alley and assaulted. His backpack, phone, and ID are stolen. His clothes are in tatters.

Adrien doesn’t leave Paris even though he knows he can. He feels like he cannot live anywhere else. He sleeps in cramped hiding spots during the day and scours dumpsters for food during the night after businesses rejected him and homeless communities threatened to kill him. Water is obtained through water fountains set up in public parks. Public toilets are used as well.

He finds a zip-up hoodie left on a bench. It becomes his most treasured item as it was something lucky that happened to him ever since that day.

Officers were called for a suspected robbery and finds Adrien trying to climb to a hiding spot. He’s recognized and guns are immediately drawn, treating Adrien as an armed threat. Officers fire and Adrien runs. A few bullets hit him, but he somehow keeps going. He eventually is forced under a bridge and dives into a tunnel to try to evade them.

Adrien runs and runs and runs in the dark tunnels. He fails to notice the officers stopping their chase. A manhunt is made public for the arrest of Adrien Agreste.

A month passes with most efforts going on in the tunnels. Adrien Agreste is reported presumed dead in the labyrinth that is the Catacombs. Paris cheers, some are little saddened, but do not care much.

Years pass and a man so gaunt he looked like he should’ve died ages ago crawls from a tunnel and collapses in the nearby water. He drinks and drinks and drinks until he vomits the liquid, then drinks some more. He had finally made it.

Adrien continues his previous lifestyle, but instead of hiding above ground, he hides underground. He memorized the layout of the Catacombs, but was unlucky to find an exit. He knows that he is not human, at least not fully, and ponders the implication that he could be a more advanced version of the Ladybug sentimonster from years and years ago, with the additional strength. He also developed versions of Plagg and his mother to keep him company. There are clear signs of mental degradation such as scattered thought and paranoia.

Adrien finds a euro note and risks identification when purchasing a journal and a packet of pens. The first thing he writes is a mantra he had told himself.

The mantra: “You are Adrien Agreste, son of Emilie Graham de Vanily, who died when you were thirteen, and Gabriel Agreste, who terrorized Paris and its people. You were Chat Noir. You failed Paris, those that care about you, those you care about, and yourself. This is your punishment.” In addition to this, he writes everything he can remember. His sporadic and repetitive writing is a result of mental degradation

He finds more entrances and and can freely traverse the Catacombs. If he encounters people, he attacks with a femur, knocking them out, searching for food, water, and supplies, before dragging them to an entrance.

He becomes known as the Man of the Catacombs. There is small interest as many of the people who have been attacked and robbed by the man were lost and could’ve died.

This continued for years. Adrien’s mind was still degrading and it wasn’t long before suicide became a thing. Bullets to vital areas from a stolen pistol, a shank to the neck, hanging, . . .

Luka and Marinette become curious and decide to venture into the Catacombs to find the man. They got lost, but before they could resort to their powers, both are knocked out. They wake up in a rectangular room taller than most of the Catacombs. Bones are organized and there is a stockpile of water bottles, food, flashlights, and batteries

They find the man searching through their stuff, the room illuminated by a dim battery lamp. He sets aside their food, water, batteries, and flashlights. They here him mutter nonsense to Plagg and his mother.

When Adrien mentions Plagg, Marinette gasps and gets the attention of Adrien. Adrien turns around and sees Marinette and Luka awake. Marinette calls his name and Adrien responds with the mantra. They see his peculiar scars and ask about it. Adrien answers in erratic language implying suicide. Marinette finds and tucks away his journal

He notices the ring Luka is wearing and tackles both calling for Plagg to “give [him] freedom, give [him] death.” He threatens to severely injure Luka if he doesn’t show up, making sure Luka can’t transform. Marinette transforms, but the same threat is applied. 

Plagg shows himself and promises to end his life if he lets go of Luka and shows the way out. Adrien enthusiastically agrees, acting like a child who had promised a bucket of candy, he talks to “his mother” about finally dying. It isn’t long before he leads them to a sewer entrance and up a manhole into an alley.

When they finally arrive, Adrien wishes to be killed in front of all of Paris instead to make them happy. They refuse, Adrien gets angry and starts destroying the alley. They give in.

With the help of Nadja Chamack and Chloe the announcement and arrangement of Adrien’s survival in the Catacombs and his execution by the kwami of destruction himself.

The people of Paris gathered in front of the main city hall. A simple stage had been set up  and Adrien was presented bolted down to a platform on the stage, cleaned up and wearing gray. And with one final shout to his mother that he was going to die before maniacal laughter, Plagg called his cataclysm and pressed it against his ex-charge’s forehead. The people of Paris cheer.

[thelastofgala]

I started The Last of Us, Pt. 2 last night, and here are my first impressions, musings on parallelism, Naturalism, Ellie’s characterization, Joel’s characterization, the “presence” of Riley, gameplay, story development, and more:

***SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT***

Starting with Joel. I always imagined The Last of Us 2 would begin at the end of Joel’s journey, though I will say that I did not expect to pick up so close to the end of the first game. I thought they would start us somewhere COMPLETELY out of context. Like I was prepared for much deeper flashback. In this way, I really felt like I was playing a sequel, which is not a bad thing. I just had no idea how they were going to frame this. The compelling thing about starting with Joel is that it immediately sets up parallels between Joel and Sarah, the character we start with in The Last of Us. There’s no way this was not a pointed decision. Just like it was with Sarah, Joel is our point of reference in a new, strange world. His point of view in this new world is all that we know. We don’t know what the new special world contains, and we don’t know grown-up Ellie at all. Plus, old fans will have missed him. It is a comfort to be Joel, and like a daughter protected by her father, a false and short-lived comfort. We are also now thinking of Joel as, like Sarah, someone who is in danger, whose agency is compromised, who, for whatever reason, is weakened this time around, and who may not survive the story. 

I will say, too, that I really loved that after the 4-years-later cut, Joel is held off-screen. He and Tommy are out on a patrol. They are out there, in danger, and that sort of restraint is really effective. We are ALWAYS looking for Joel, just like we were in the run-up to the release, because he is the only person we truly know in this strange, new world. ND knows and takes advantage of this.

There are many parallels between Joel and Riley. Both Joel and Riley sneak up on Ellie during their first interaction. They’re even wearing similar colors. Both Joel and Riley lied to Ellie in the previous story, and both betrayed her as an act of self-preservation. In Left Behind, Ellie is somewhat chilly toward Riley in the beginning, even as her younger, more optimistic self, just as Ellie is chilly toward Joel in the beginning of The Last of Us 2. Still, you can tell through Ellie’s dialogue with Dina that she and Joel are knitted together—he defended her against the bigoted bartender, and she appreciates this even if she doesn’t outright say it. They share taste in movies and have plans to watch a movie together soon. I haven’t interacted with Joel in the current timeline, but I do know that in Left Behind, Riley has to earn back Ellie’s trust and take measures to reenter her good graces, and that this is a large part of their relationship arc. I also know that, by the time they reconcile, it proves to be too late. The world will not let them have what they want, and nothing is simple. All of these parallels worry me a lot, as Left Behind, while still driven by a strong undercurrent of love (it is a love story, interwoven with Ellie’s desperate search for medical supplies in a bid to save Joel’s life), is a much bleaker, sadder story than The Last of Us, and it has a tragic ending.

Joel's conversation with Tommy feels important. I was very glad to hear Tommy say that he would have made the same choice, in terms of saving Ellie or letting her die for the possibility of a cure. It shows that Tommy is more like Joel than perhaps we knew. Plus, Maria will have taught him something about love and commitment, as the notion of saving the one you love above all else should make more sense to him now that he has foregone the youthful idealism of the Fireflies in order to focus on the practical wisdom of family. As a parent, I understand Joel’s decision to save Ellie at the end of The Last of Us and know I would have done the same. I also understand why Joel lied, even though I think it was the wrong choice. Hearing him confide all of this in Tommy was cathartic. It was also very characteristic of Joel to respond that Ellie “didn’t say nothing otherwise” when Tommy asks if she believed him. In all of his denial, Joel chooses to believe what is conveniently in front of him, even if he knows it’s untrue. Also, I couldn’t tell, but was that a Firefly logo on that guitar he’s shining up? Maybe I hallucinated that. But if it is, I do wonder where he got it.

Ellie’s character is much more deadpan and ruminative in young adulthood. She seems tired, and a little lacking in self-esteem and sort of immediately defeated by what happened during the experience with Joel. When Joel sang, we could see her return to that place, just a glimmer, and her response—that it “didn’t suck”—shows how she still shields her heart with sarcasm, something Dina points out to her later on (“Did I ruin your punchline?”). Joel has been broken down by the events of The Last of Us and now bears his soul to her with his music, unabashed and dedicated to her, and Ellie is now the stoic one, unshakable, sealed inside a heavy, protective armor that seems impossible to pierce. I look forward to getting to know Ellie as a young adult and, ultimately, crying a lot. She is artistic and honest and still a little soft underneath. You can tell by her early interactions with Dina especially that she can still blush, and she can still come undone.

I love the snowball fight lol. I am always so frustrated when these big environment games, like Red Dead 2, Dragon Age, etc., don’t have any kids running around. Why don’t these stories pay attention to kids? Kids exist. They are an important part of almost any open world or quasi open world environment. I love the presence of kids in The Last of Us 2, because the loss of childhood innocence is an important theme for Ellie as a character. It’s also clear we’re trying to set up the edenic innocence of Jackson. It is childhood, in a way, and just like childhood, it will come to inevitable corruption. The scene, too, reminded me of Ellie and Riley on their teen dream adventure, romping through the Halloween store at the mall, trying on masks and talking to the magic eight ball.

I’m really pleased by all the parallels with Left Behind and Ellie’s portion of the journey in The Last of Us. Winter was her season, and that’s where we’re starting now. The horseback riding, the blizzard, and all the blood in the snow bring flashbacks of Ellie hunting on the woods, Ellie alone in the frozen mall, David, and the Lakeside Resort, all of which layer the current moment with a lot of emotional tension for the player.

The opening is, I think, sprawling. I’m having fun but there’s this sense that I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of the story. Like Joel in the first game, Ellie is also big-timing me a little and I feel far away from her. I know this will change soon, and I’ll warm up to her, but for now, like Joel, we’re all being held at arm’s length. I actually like the POV shifts we’ve gotten so far and the multiple POVs is something I predicted a while ago, based on ND’s tendencies in the first game. Ppl are going to give The Last of Us 2 shit for being too cinematic but tbh it sometimes feels more like a playable novel than a traditional video game. We’re on a cable car headed straight into disaster and there’s nothing we can do. In this way the game is using the medium itself to perpetuate its Naturalistic themes. We play and we play, and we fight and we fight, but the environment entertains no interest in our struggle and the outcome will always be the same. There is no free will in The Last of Us.

On that note, the gameplay so far is, I think, pretty fun. I have played a lot of stealth games and am always looking for ways the genre is reinventing itself. Like Sekiro and Tomb Raider, The Last of Us 2 is increasing the verticality of the map with rope climbing and scaling up obstacles (though I do miss using Joel’s immense upper body strength to move those dumpsters around lol). In a stealth game I want creativity and problem solving to be central to the gameplay. I don’t want to be magically handed tools and weapons on a constant basis, to meet every individual need. I want to be forced into resourcefulness, and I don’t want to enter a shoot-out unless I absolutely have to. That said, I’m nearly to the tower checkpoint with Dina, and I’ve only fired my gun twice. The dodge/melee mechanic is neat, but more than anything, having real, actionable help from an AI enables stealth kills even in zones crawling with enemies. On that note, I am playing with a headset, and I’m glad I am, because I find the sounds of the goddam clickers to be all-encompassing this time around and a LOT bigger and scarier than they were in The Last of Us. Holy shit. They’re absolutely terrifying. I can only imagine the horror to come lol.

Now, finally, Abby: I don’t have much to offer on this yet. Abby is not who I thought she’d be. I’ll just say it. Still, the melee battle with her and the runners in the woods was AWESOME. For me, the most fun I’ve had yet, because it was completely different than anything from The Last of Us. Playing her, however, I will say, filled me with foreboding. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to help her. She seems beyond desperate and while deeply sympathetic, she is a new character and her loyalties are not mine...so far. I could be very wrong, and please don’t correct me if I am, but I get the sense she might be a Firefly, or somehow associated with Marlene, and she is looking for Joel, in vengeance. Her group was small and rogue, and they seemed new to the area. All I know is that ND is creating a moral dilemma here, and as to what will become of this, the jury is still out completely.

One small personal criticism, take it or leave it: I don’t personally love that the kiss with Dina and scene with Joel defending Ellie was kept off-stage in the game and left to the trailer. We could have started at the dance. That would have taught us everything we need to know about Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Joel and Ellie’s relationship state. This is my only criticism of the story so far. From a writer’s perspective, it’s just inefficient and clumsy to try and cover all that in expositional dialogue, taking into consideration that many casual players will not have seen all the trailers. Even still, it’s not hurting my experience in any way. Just an observation and maybe a bit of personal opinion on the fact that perhaps the choice to reveal so much scene in pre-release trailers might be a great way to build hype but might not be the most efficient choice in telling the actual story. My two cents!

In the end, I’m overall super excited and can’t wait to keep playing. These are just my own personal thoughts, and I’ll be back with more thoughts soon!! PLEASE NO SPOILERS OR SPOILERY SUGGESTIONS IN THE REPLIES!! I am NOT privy to the leaks and I do NOT want to know what’s coming. Thank you!! ^_^ 

[breanime]

Person A can’t sleep so Person B sings them a lullaby for billy russo?

YOU KNOW I HAD TO MAKE THIS FAMILY!RUSSO! I JUST HAD TO!

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” You asked, concern clear in your voice.

Billy nodded, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah, we’re all fine here,” he said, wincing as Luca gnawed at his ankle, “It’s almost bedtime, so the kids are getting ready to go to sleep.” Your daughter, Emmy, was crawling around on the kitchen floor, chasing Curtis’ cat that Billy was cat-sitting. “They’re really tired, we had a full day.”

“I miss you,” you sighed on the other end of the phone, “I miss the kids.”

“I know,” Billy sighed back, “but you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “my flight lands at 10—a.m,” you reminded him.

“We’ll be there,” he said, trying not to get too excited at the thought of seeing you again. You’d only been gone for three days; your job had requested you go to a conference (you were the best, after all), and so Billy had been left behind with the kids. He didn’t mind; he never understood fathers who referred to watching their kids as “babysitting”. You babysat someone else’s kids, you raise yours. So Billy had taken the last few days off of work to stay at home with your 4 year old son Luca, and your 3 year old daughter Emmy.

“Is that Mommy?” Luca cried out, pulling back from Billy’s legs to look up at him with those dark, wide eyes. “Hi Mommy!”

“Mama!” Emmy added. “Mama! Mama!”

“Hi babies!” You said, and Billy could hear the tears in your voice. “Mama misses you!”

“Mommy’s coming back tomorrow,” Billy said, both for the kids’ sake and yours. He grinned, a lightbulb going off in his head. “We need to get ready for bed because when we wake up, we’re going to the airport to get Mommy!”

The kids cheered.

“C’mon, Sissy,” Luca said, stumbling to his feet and taking Emmy’s hand in his, “We gots to get in our pajam-jams!”

“Mama coming home?” Emmy asked, toddling after her brother.

You laughed on the other end of the phone, and Billy smiled. He missed your laugh. He missed you. Man—having kids turned him soft. “Sounds like it’s time for you to go, Daddy,” you said, and Billy felt a shiver go through him at your words, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“We’re dropping the kids off at Frank’s,” Billy growled back, “and then I’m spending the rest of the day inside you.”

You sighed dreamily, and Billy wished you were there so he could kiss you. “Don’t tease me, Mr. Russo.”

“Not a tease,” he said back, “but a promise, Mrs. Russo.”

The two of you spoke for a few minutes longer—you convinced Billy to drop the kids off at Frank’s for a few hours tomorrow, and then go pick them up (you missed your mini Russos), and Billy was easily convinced. After he hung up, he walked into the kids’ room to see Luca tucking his sister in.

“And tomorrow, when the sun is up again,” Luca was saying as he patted the blanket down on his sister’s tummy, “We’re gonna go to the air sport to get Mommy, and we can see the airplanes!”

“I want Mommy now!” Emmy said back, pouting. Billy smiled; she looked just like you when she did that.

“You have to go night-night,” Luca explained, “and then we can get Mommy.” He got his patience from you, Billy knew. “Right, Daddy?”

Billy blinked. Luca knowing that Billy was behind him without turning around was definitely a Russo trait. “Right.” He stepped into the room, scooping Luca up in his arms and placing him in his little bed. “So it’s time for us to say goodnight…”

“I’m too egg-cited to sleep!” Luca said, kicking his little legs under the covers. “I can’t wait to see Mommy!”

“I want Mommy!” Emmy added, kicking her feet too.

Billy sighed. He should have known; bedtime had been relatively easy the last two days, of course that had just been the calm before the storm. Before he knew it, he had two baby Russos screeching “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy” with no intentions of going to sleep.

Dire measures needed to be taken.

“How about we all sleep in Daddy’s bed,” he offered, speaking loudly so he could be heard over his children’s voices, “And I’ll read you a story…”

He watched his kids’ eyes light up, and they both scurried out of their beds and rushed to your room, Billy trailing behind them, shaking his head with a smile on his face. They climbed the little Cars step stool that was next to the bed and hopped under the covers, staring over at Billy with matching grins on their sweet little faces. Billy settled himself between the two of them and grabbed a children’s book from the side of the bed. Luca was fascinated by the words, tracing them with his little finger as Billy read, and Emmy loved the pictures, making sure Billy held the book up so they could all see. Billy could tell they were both getting sleepy as he read on, but neither of them would relent and let themselves go to sleep. Both of them had their heads leaning on Billy, and Emmy was sucking her thumb—a habit she only went back to when she was sleepy.

“Daddy,” Luca said, his voice soft and slurred with sleepiness, “will you sing us a song?”

Billy paused. Sometimes you sang Disney songs with the kids, and you used to sing Emmy lullabies to get her to sleep when she was an infant, but Billy never did. He was just an appreciative audience member. And besides, he was a Marine. He was a sniper. He was a CEO.

Billy Russo didn’t sing.

Except now his babies were looking up at him, two pairs of big, black eyes that knew nothing but love staring up at him.

So he sang them a song.

Emmy was out before he’d even finished verse 2, but Luca stayed up until the song was done. Finally, he laid his little head down and closed his eyes. But before he did, he smiled and said the words that made everything worth it:

“I love you, Daddy.”

The next morning, Billy parked the car and waited for you. He didn’t have to watch for your arrival; the kids’ excited screams let him know when you were nearing the car. Billy hugged you to him, grinning from ear to ear as you greeted the kids, kissing them and telling them how much you’d missed them.

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” Luca reported, his legs kicking in his car seat, “Daddy sanged us a song!”

Billy coughed, avoiding your gaze as he put your suitcase in the trunk. “That was supposed to stay between us, son…” He muttered.

“He did?” You asked, eyes wide as you slid your seatbelt on. “I want to hear Daddy sing!”

“Oh, no,” Billy shook his head, “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Daddy sing!” Luca ordered.

“Sing, Daddy, sing!” Emmy chorused.

“Yeah, sing!” You added, clapping your hands.

Billy sighed, rolling his eyes as he put the car in gear. The things he did for the ones he loved….

“The wheels on the bus go round and round…”

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

GAWD I love the Russos. Also, I still haven’t settled on a name for Baby Boy Russo, the new baby... Suggestions? Thanks for reading!

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Benny B Taglist (minus Sirius): @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

two | hard to forget | adam page

↱ authors notes: ↲

Ahhh okay. Here we go. This is going to pick up where Darlin left off, give or take a few days so… if you haven’t read that, you might want to stop everything and go click on the link above and do that.If you think things are getting even SLIGHTLY happier here well... I have some bad news for you. We’re in the angst zone here. We will be for a little longer. So yeah. There’s that.

I am planning on throwing them into an interaction soon, I promise. Just for a little while, it’s gotta stay this way bc they’re both balls of anxiety and stress.

↱ pairing ↲

adam hangman page x ofc! rosalie.

↱ summary↲

Adam and Rosalie shared a night together. A night that neither one of them can forget and yet, neither one of them seem to be able to talk to the other about. Between their own personal issues, backstage gossip and other awkwardness, will they eventually find their way together?

↱ warnings↲

I switch back and forth between first and third person (first=rosalie and third=hangman) and I realize that can be jarring for some, so I thought I’d warn you about that now… Now on to the actual warnings you need to be aware of…slow burn. angst. two stubborn fucking people both going through their own issues. alcohol mentions. probably smut at some point, idk. for now, that’s all I got. OFC has self worth issues and anxiety. FWIW. No, they won’t magically be fixed by the end of this. If you’re here for that, it won’t happen. They won’t dissolve just because the story takes a turn. This shit is something I struggle with, so all of this emotional baggage/etc is being written the way I personally experience it. Everyone’s experiences are different and I realize that. Anyway... That’s all for the warnings.

↱ tag squad↲

If you want to be tagged in my writing, go add your @ to this doc here. If you’re not on there / haven’t told me you want to be tagged, you’re not getting tagged.

@kyleoreillysknee​

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↱ other stuff ↲

[ tag list doc | masterlist | soundtrack to this fic | about page ]

                                                      TWO        

[ Hangman ]

He sat at the bar, staring down into the whiskey glass in front of him. He couldn’t stop going back to what Kenny’s response was earlier. He couldn’t get his head around just how easily it was for Kenny to turn his back on their tag team partnership and yet, if he really thought long and hard about it, he couldn’t blame him either. Taking another long sip of whiskey, Adam sat the glass down on the bartop, his head resting against his hand.

Downtime couldn’t come fast enough this time around. He needed time and space to think. To figure things out. His mind was still frantically holding out hope that there had to be a way to fix the situations he currently found himself in. Both of them.

Because there had to be a way to get Rosalie alone and talk to her. He needed to know if his head or his heart or all the rumors that seemed to be swirling around the back this week were right. He needed some sort of confirmation to move on and try to put what happened between them and his feelings out of his head or not.

At the thought, he found himself scanning the crowded bar, searching for any sign of Rosalie. He spotted her across the bar, crammed into a booth with Sonny Kiss, Swole and Thunder Rosa, her head back in mid-laugh. When the guy in the leather jacket walked past their table and looked her up and down, his breath caught and he knew that it was better if he turned around but for whatever reason, he couldn’t.

He felt the briefest relief when she didn’t even bother looking at the man in the leather jacket, choosing instead to focus on the bottle of tequila in front of her that she was apparently drinking straight from.

He eyed the situation carefully, trying to gauge her current mood. Trying to prove to himself that hooking up with him had been a one-time thing and no, she wasn’t currently beating herself up or losing her mind over what happened like he was lately on top of everything else.

,, People are sayin that night is just somethin’ she does. And I don’t wanna believe that because somethin about it don’t seem right, but it’s not like she’s in a hurry to talk about what happened between us either…” Adam thought to himself, scowling and promptly trying to vanquish the thought from his head by pouring himself another measure of whiskey from the bottle sitting in front of him into his glass.

The older country that had been playing on a jukebox towards the back switched to Five Finger Death Punch and he grumbled to himself, right up to the point in which he saw Rosalie slinking back from the area, the bottle in her hand and a smirk in her face. When she climbed over the back of the booth seat to settle back between Swole and Rosa, he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “How the hell does she listen to this shit?”

By the fourth round, he nearly had himself convinced to just walk over and talk to her. He kept telling himself he’d do it when her friends left. Then her friends left and he sat there, hesitantly perched on the edge of his stool.

From beside him, MJF spoke up, a taunting laugh as he did so. “Crashed and burned already, hm? From talk backstage, you two were going to be the next it couple. But like usual, you can’t help yourself. You just like to watch the world burn.”

Adam’s fists clenched and he glared at MJF. Then he remembered some of the guy’s past exchanges with her and he rubbed his chin, chuckling quietly. He’d overlook all the other stuff the asshole said that hit a little too head on at the moment.. About him being incapable of just being happy until the world was burning all around him. He chose instead to focus on the fact that obviously, if the guy was sitting here next to him, then the guy hadn’t made all the progress he told anyone in back who would listen that he was making with Rosalie.

“Aw, she shoot you down again, little boy?”

“She’s a teasing bitch. But no. In fact..” Maxwell waved over a bartender and ordered himself a glass of bourbon, “I think I might have figured out a way to break down those so called walls she has. I mean.. I figure as long as I’m not you and I don’t do whatever you apparently did, I have a shot, right?”

Adam leaned in to Maxwell in the blink of an eye. Maxwell gaped as Adam gripped his shirt front and flashed a mean smirk. “Go ahead, little boy. Go right ahead. But I promise you. I swear. If you do one thing to hurt her, I’m gonna kick your damn head off.” 

He let go and settled completely back on the stool, the two men having an intent staredown until Adam tossed wadded cash on the top of the bar and shoved his way out. He needed to get to the sanctuary of his own hotel room.

He needed to think. There had to be some way to fix everything. There had to be. He stubbornly refused to believe there wasn’t. He’d been through worse with the guys before. They were okay.

,, maybe this time you pushed too far, man. And if you don’t do something about the other now, it’s going to eat at you too… But that’s the catch 22… Doing somethin means you might get an answer you don’t wanna hear...that you might not be able to handle right now.” the thought was an unsettling one and it had him punching the wall by the elevator lightly. 

[ ROSALIE ]

“Girl, the man was staring a hole right through you. How much more proof do you need?”

Rosa’s question had me pausing, leaning against the hallway wall as I raised the bottle to my lips and shrugged. Swallowing the tequila, I grimaced at the lazy burn when it crept down my throat. It wasn’t Tito’s, but tonight it would have to suffice. I mulled over what she said. I knew he’d been watching me. I could feel him staring. The thing of it was, every time I got the idea in my head to get up and walk over, I remembered the current rumors going around about me backstage. And I remembered that I have a tendency to make a mess of everything I touch according to most. Or that I’m not and never will be good enough, according to others.

Yeah, maybe it’s stupid, but… Maybe this is just one of those things that’s better left untouched. Besides, the guy probably thinks I’m a whore now, I mean… I’ve heard the rumors. I’ve heard them and if I didn’t know myself better? I’d think I was a whore.

Pretty sure Maxwell’s been stirring around in shit because I won’t just crawl into bed with him. He wants me to have no other option. And if he thinks even remotely I won’t just die alone before letting it, he’s a goddamn fool.

“It’s not that easy, Rosa.” I finally answered, taking another long pull from the bottle in my hand. Letting my head rest against the wall. I was dizzy and tipsy and yet... I wasn’t numb. I hadn’t magically forgotten everything that’s always on my mind and any of the newest invasive thoughts that had cropped up lately either. 

Brains should come with an on/off reset feature. You don’t like your mind one day? Reset button. It’d be one hell of a lot easier than being stuck with all the doubt and loathing and irrational fears and invasive thoughts.

“It is! All you have to do is walk over, sit down and talk to the guy.” Rosa insisted.

I eyed her and laughed. “After the shit Maxwell’s been saying this week? I don’t see that going well. He probably believes it all like everyone else. I mean hey… The upside of this whole shit-show is that if I get lonely, I have plenty of offers. Only for one night because naturally..” I trailed off, shaking my head. No, nope.. I was going to bind my legs if I had to. Not even going to consider meeting a guy at a bar and taking him back to my room anymore because whew boy... Did this whole rumor going around about me really make me stop and think. And I didn’t want to be seen as that kind of girl. ,, even though there’s not a goddamn thing wrong with enjoying life and you don’t owe anyone a goddamn thing. christ, you’re pathetic. a real dumpster fire, rosalie.”  the thought came and I shoved it out, wincing at it’s invasive brutality.

“But none of them are the one you want. God, you’re so fucking stubborn.” Rosa grumbled, the back of her head hitting the wall behind us lightly as she sank down to sit beside me. I laughed a little and I couldn’t tell whether it was the tequila in my hands or the absurdity of this entire situation that would literally be so much easier if I were anyone but me right now. If I had better confidence. If I dared to believe or hope that I could have a great guy that I truly loved without that guy merely settling because I was there and made myself available like I used to all the time.

Like I did that one night I had Adam Page. It had been so easy to fall back into old habits, natural as breathing. That in itself had me terrified.

“I picked one hell of a year to quit smoking.” I groaned quietly, letting my head butt back against the wall as I laughed and sat there, trying to imagine every single scenario that might arise if I did just talk to him about that night.

But when all your mind will cook up are the bad ones. The absolute worst of the worst. You see my problem, yes?

I couldn’t be the first to say something. I knew for a fact I couldn’t take hearing him casually dismiss our night as a one-time thing. I couldn’t take him saying what I’ve heard so much now that it’s ingrained in me deep and keeps me doubting myself at least eighty-five percent of the time. I couldn’t take a risk and have him turn out to be just like the rest.

But I knew at the same time that sooner or later... somehow.. I was going to crack. Because as much as I feared the worst, I couldn’t keep sitting on any of this either.

[s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r]

50 questions you’ve never been asked

thanks to @ilygwilym for tagging me!

what is the colour of your hairbrush? Black!

name a food you never eat? broccoli

are you typically too warm or too cold? more likely to be cold

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? drafting social media posts for the boss

what is your favourite candy bar? Reese’s peanut butter cups (same, @ilygwilym!)

have you ever been to a professional sports event? yes! a lot. I saw Michael Jordan play with the Bulls in 1994, and since then have been to a handful of baseball games (Astros... breaking my heart, don’t @ me), basketball (various teams), women’s soccer (tickets are cheap and we should do everything we can to prove to U.S. Soccer they deserve more money), and of course, football games because I’m a huge Seattle Seahawks fan.

what is the last thing you said out loud? “no, I don’t have time to play,” to my husband, who is on his daily video chat with his coworkers who play games every lunch time. I am working on this survey in between things for work.

what is your favourite ice cream? cookie dough!

what was the last thing you had to drink? currently drinking coffee!

do you like your wallet? yes, because it’s part of my phone case and only holds three cards and Is super slim. i’d recommend it for everyone. mine has fish on it! and sometimes people ask if it’s because I like to fish or something. no. the answer is that I am a pisces.

what was the last thing you ate? salsa verde doritos because obviously i was making healthy choices last night

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? haha no, though I casually looked for sweatpants online

the last sporting event you watched? an Olympic qualifying match for the U.S. Women’s National Team. I saw Pinoe and Morgan and Krieger and all of them, it was AWESOME

what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? butter, I guess. I don’t really enjoy it because it really only takes one bite for me to get a kernel stuck in my teeth and I can’t stand the feeling

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my director at work. she is wonderful and I am not just saying that

ever go camping? definitely!

do you take vitamins? I have them...

do you go to church every sunday? nope, I slid into atheism 15 years ago but still go to church when I visit home because my mom plays the piano for the tiny church I grew up in and I like to sing

do you have a tan? not really. when i’ve had a healthy amount of sun, I get fairly distinct blonde streaks. I only get tan if I sunburn first, which obviously isn’t ideal

do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? P I Z Z A

do you drink your soda with a straw? no mas

what colour socks do you usually wear? I don’t wear a lot of socks in this climate, but my running socks are all gray + blue/purple/pink

do you ever drive above the speed limit? of course

what terrifies you? screwing up so badly that my boss gets politifact-ed (which happened once when we were talking about inequities on Latina Equal Pay Day and I have not recoverd from)

look to your left, what do you see? Airpods

what chore do you hate? cleaning the litter box/taking the trash out (we are equidistant between our complex’s two dumpsters, which is like a 10 minute walk)

what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? hmm. my first major exposure was Steve Irwin... so...? 

what’s your favourite soda? diet coke, i’m just basiiiiic

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? when we’re not social distancing, I always go in. As someone who used to work at a drive-thru at an ice cream shop and at starbucks, I learned to love the pace of the people who walk up. way less likely to be a dick about being in a rush.

who’s the last person you talked to? the hubs

favourite cut of beef? I honestly don’t remember. Probably a new york strip. I eat beef on really rare occasions, and that’s usually in barbecue/brisket form because Texas

last song you listened to? I can’t believe I haven’t listened to music yet today! which means it was the Star Trek: The Next Generation theme song because that’s what I watched last night before bed

last book you read? hmm.. in full? probably A Song of Ice and Fire: A Dance With Dragons

favourite day of the week? Saturday, duh

can you say the alphabet backwards? tebahpla eht (sure, if I think about it)

how do you like you coffee? black

favourite pair of shoes? I don’t really love any of my shoes right now. but my greatest attachment is to my hiking boots.

the time you normally go to bed? midnight, on average

the time you normally get up? normally, it’s 7am but now that i’m working form home, 8:30am

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets, I’m from New Mexico, after all!

how many blankets on your bed? a duvet and a sheet. don’t need much in houston usually

describe your kitchen plates. this has been a journey for us, but we have practically-indestructible Corelle plates with turquoise, teal, and blue dots and trim around the outside edge

do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? red, red wiiiiiiiine

do you play cards? yes! the hubs is an obsessive game player. we do a lot of Hearts, Idiot, and Cribbage. I’m best at Cribbage.

what colour is your car? Dark gray

can you change a tire? the one time I was faced with the possibility, some stranger walked up and changed it for us on the side of a small town road in Idaho. also, when I had a crush on a boy in high school, he was obsessed with his jeep and I stopped by his house and he (i’m sure as a joke) asked me to bring over a new tire for him and it was huge and embarrassing

your favourite province? British Columbia!!!!!!!!!!!!11111 but I would probably also like Alberta too, I just haven’t been. wait, are we talking Canada? Australia? Somewhere else? If I had to pick a state, I’d go with New Mexico.

favourite job you’ve ever had? this one. I take photos and write social media posts and make graphics, and I basically made the job myself by showing my boss what I was good at. she was open to it. as a result, I have met famous politicians and been in military helicopters (and even communicated with Chris Evans’ A Starting Point production team). it’s an incredible opportunity.

how did you get your biggest scar? literally all of my scars have something to do with my cat. the biggest one is when I brought her home from college. she saw my dog—a dog she knew!!—as I was carrying her in from the car in my hands, and crawled up my face onto my head, catching my eyelid in her back claw. I had to have ten stitches put in the night before we left for disneyland!! thankfully it sort of blends in with the other natural eyelid creases I already had.

what did you do today that made someone else happy? aw probably not much, yet. it’s early still. but I did make a cute graphic for a Tiger King tweetstorm a bunch of legislators are going to take part in and my director really liked it (we probably won’t take part in the tweetstorm but I drafted just in case)

tagging @aoskirk @thehound @lukeslywalkers @alcors-floating-hat 

[mattisonmorone]

Righteous

I have no idea how long it has been since I’ve been here, but I can tell you a lot has changed, and in the same breath, nothing is different. Let’s start with the highlights, and then we’ll transition questionably into how I managed to once again nuke my entire fucking life in record time.

I moved out of my house earlier this year with my best friend and my girlfriend, I was (foreshadowing) working at TESLA, and things were looking up. 2 weeks ago, that all changed pretty quickly. I was fired from TESLA, my best friend moved out for his own good, and my relationship is, well stable isn't one of the words that comes to mind first, let’s just say that.

I had been doing relatively well recently taking care of myself, or so I thought. My life imploding did have a silver(?) lining of really opening my eyes for the first time in a while to how far I have slipped. When I was at TESLA my mind was focused on the company and work over everything, as soon as it left, I had nothing to occupy my brain and it just looked inward. Let me tell you something, I was not prepared for that.

I have a lot to talk about today, or at least I think I do. I’ve been meaning to do this since i got the news, and honestly I should have written the first day, but I think these two weeks have given me a bit of a different perspective. I’m not trending in the right direction yet, but I did have a few moments of clarity which at least is a start to something. This is my next step, putting some of my thoughts out into the world so I am forced to accept them. I am going to be honest with myself here, and part of that includes saying some somewhat nice things about myself that are more than just surface level. I’m not sure if you non existent readers are aware or not, but I truly feel uncomfortable saying things I am good at. I can tell you what I’m shit at until the cows come home, but ask me to list, or even worse, discuss what I’m good at and, well, I can already feel my skin crawling just thinking about that. So If you do find yourself in the somewhat intriguing position of skimming through this nonsense - take however cocky you think I sound, multiply it by about 6, and that’s my level of discomfort writing it. Trust me, I am well aware that this is a giant can of childhood level worms I have to unravel at some point, but that is an issue for another day.

First I want to start with TESLA. I tried for three years to get into that company. The second my best friend told me how amazing the company was, I made it my mission to become a part of it. It was the first thing I ever was genuinely interested in and that made me want to be okay with failing and still trying again, and I noticed that and kept going. Last September, with my friend’s help, I made it. I was finally a part of TESLA. 

I’m gonna take a quick side-note to say something contextually relevant as to why TESLA was so important to me. I am, without tooting my own horn too much, slightly above average in intelligence, but I haven’t felt that way in a long time. At the risk of sounding incredibly cocky, nothing had been a challenge to me in a very long time, and not only that, but nothing was even remotely taxing my brain. Over time I guess I got temporarily dumber(?) and felt like I wasn’t as smart because I technically wasn’t. I hadn’t done anything that made me use my brain in so long it’s like part of it just clocked out and went home for a “spiritual awakening hiatus.” That hiatus lasted until my first day of TESLA, when all at once I swear it felt like someone flicked that cobweb covered breaker switch and all the lights and power came on all at once. I hadn’t felt anything like it in years, and suddenly I felt like me again. I was firing on all cylinders, absorbing information and thinking ahead in a way I had honestly forgotten I could. It was addicting, and I ran with it - learning as much as I could about everything I could to do help everyone with anything in that store.

Anyway, super smooth transition back to where we were. I finally made it to where I wanted, and they wanted me to be the first advisor in a new store, which seemed to be a wide open lane to shooting up the company if I proved myself, which I set out to do. I had a bit of a bumpy start in training, but after that I found my groove and was doing well. (I had a whole paragraph going more in depth as to how good, and bad, I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to put that all in there, so we’re sticking with short and sweet). Then, things started going downhill. Covid hit, I got less busy, and as a result less focused, and suddenly I wasn’t doing well anymore. Things at home got a little messier, and by the time the hammer came down at TESLA, I was just getting my shit back together, but it was too little too late. I accept full responsibility for my loss of TESLA, and by no means hold it against anyone there. I fucked up, and I paid the price.

But what was the price? Well, for starters, I am very well not a damn one of you asked that, but who would I be if I didn’t add a scosh of theatrics to this. Secondly, and more importantly, it seems like everything. I really need to explain what this feels like, and why it hurts so much. Being a service advisor at TESLA was the perfect job for me, it really was. It was everything I wanted, and needed, and it was high pressure all the time with crazy hours and work I could just hurl myself into. But it was more than that, the new store and the team inside it had become my home. I mentioned how I hadn’t felt like myself in a long time, and that is true. That ended there. I felt like confident, happy, outgoing, smart, and charming me, and I loved it. We were a small team, relatively, between sales and service but we all got along, and it all just felt right. I felt safe, and relaxed, I felt like me, and as a result I felt like I could take anything thrown at me. When I got the news, and finally got home, I felt like I had just shattered. I miss TESLA more than anything I ever have, because it’s the only thing I really gave a shit about. 

I feel like I lost my home, and on top of that, my best friend is no longer here, and everything else is, unstable, to say the least. I don’t think I have ever been this low before, and I really hope I never go any lower then I get in this run. 

I’m sorry if some of this isn’t the best written, I haven’t done this in a while, and I was speaking to my brother and his girlfriend last weekend and telling them I hadn’t felt creative in a while, and that when I’m really low I can write but when I’m not I feel like I’m not nearly as creative. That being an entirely other whole issue aside, it’s all flooding back to me now, so I’m having a little trouble organizing it - shocking, I know - but this may not be the last time I post in the near future.

As always, if anyone still checks or reads these, I hope that my sometimes my hopeless dumpster fire of an existence brings some feeling of solidarity to some of you going through your own issues. Remember, you are not alone in this, millions of people are experiencing their own versions of what you are, and you should never feel ashamed of speaking of it. You’ve survived this far, you should feel like you can wear it as a badge of honor. 

I will leave you with this, I’m not sure who I heard it from, but somewhere along the line I heard something that stuck with me, even though I’m not religious, and maybe it can bring you some peace as it has brought me when I feel like the world is against me and I can’t keep going. “God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” You do your best to remember that and live by it, and I will too, and together, we’ll all make it.

[psychomoxxie]

Don’t Say You Love Me (Falling For A Psycho Girl)

So if you read the last post, you know i’m just dragging myself by the teeth and unkempt nails out of the dumpster fire that is my so-called “heart”;

I.e., yet another relationship bit the dust. The first one in 4 years. It was new, but i fell hard, because he was different and not an abusive fuck, was super-sweet, and had the brain-cooties too (not like mine, but still), so i could relate to him on a deeper level than most. But turns out, he’s already into someone else, if his FaceBook memes are any indication (which they almost certainly are), which makes me feel incredibly stupid and naive that i didn’t see it coming. He was probably talking to this girl romantically before things ended with us. Which puts things in a whole new light.

 That light being — i am, and i reiterate, incredibly stupid and naive.

 Which brings me to the next bit.

The very next day after things imploded in my face with this guy, a friend – a male friend – talked to me for three hours on the phone to cheer me up, make me feel better about my stupid little heart; and after we hung up, he messages me to confess to me that he’s in love with me.

 Here’s the thing. It’s not that I don’t “love” this guy friend. In as much as I can feel love for him or anybody else. That sort of thing is reserved for a very small pool of people, and I’m not very good at it. Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you. I will disappear off the face of the earth for weeks at a time, and expect you to be ok with that. I have a hard time being emotionally available for most people.

 My capacity for being In Love with a capital “L” is severely limited, and probably not defined in the way most people think of the word. I’ve experienced real, actual, true Being In Love probably twice in my life. Where it hit me hard, and i was both viscerally and emotionally affected by it, and wanted to put that person’s needs before my own and all that sort of thing, where i felt that gut-wrenching emotion when it ended for whatever reason. Where i felt emotions that had to do with THEM, and not just ME. Not just the selfishness of “romantic love”, which mostly has to do with how that person makes you feel, and less to do with the actual person. But when I did feel it, I felt it all the way. And crawling out of it is certainly no easy feat. In fact, I still love my first True Love — but he died many years ago, so there’s not much I can do about that.

 I’ve certainly developed feelings, even felt love for a couple people I’ve dated — which evolved into true friendships, which I consider to be a type of love that’s different from being In Love, though still very worthy and much more likely to occur in a person’s life multiple times. Those instances of love are the people that i still speak to, despite whatever pain it cost to get us here, because we still actually had a real connection after the romantic bit ended. (The guy in the photo being one of those).

 Of course, the question is, was it genuine Love ™ i felt for the Guy I Fell For if it wasn’t actually reciprocated? If he’s already moved on to someone else, then clearly it was one-sided on my part since i still have feelings, and he clearly does not.

I don’t know. The thing is, I can’t transfer my feelings from one person to the other so quickly. Or at all. Because for me, I rarely feel them to begin with.

 Oh, in the past i’ve felt serious infatuation. When i was younger and unmedicated, i was capable of obsessive infatuation. Of course that ended when that person’s flaws came to the light, or they disappointed me. I see this one’s flaws quite clearly and still have the feelings. I hate it, but there it is. Maybe that’s the problem. For him, it was just infatuation.

 Part of the problem of being a Psycho bitch — like, literally, I have ASPD (Anti-Social Personality Disorder, my secondary diagnosis, and it’s not severe, but it’s significant enough to be problematic. This is the first time I’ve talked about it, because the stigma surrounding it is so fucked up) — is that it’s not easy for me to connect with other people. Not in any genuine way. It’s considered to be, in my and many cases, the result of certain childhood experiences. It’s a fairly common reason for this fairly uncommon disorder. A protection that the brain constructs as a result of physical and psychological trauma. I recognize it, and i try to work on it. It’s not easy.

 Here’s where the Mental Illness Education Bit comes in, folks. Because yeah, we’re doing that now. ASPD is a relatively new diagnosis – or rather, TERM for a diagnosis (in general, and also for Yours Truly), and it’s often interchanged with Sociopathy, which is often interchanged with Psychopathy. It’s not a Mental Illness, per se, but a Personality Disorder. Which might be wrong, for me, since it’s co-morbid with Schizoaffective Disorder which has some symptoms in common, and they gave me my ASPD diagnosis several years ago for what they thought previously was Bipolar – which is fairly obviously not my problem. I don’t have mood swings, per se, but i do have impulsivity, and lack of empathy, and other things that jive with the ASPD diagnosis. Apparently, my being slightly Sociopathic makes more sense. Honestly, i sometimes think they just liked slapping the label on a woman because it’s so rare.

 On the other hand, it does kind of fit, if i’m going to be honest. I’m very good at the whole social mask thing. And i don’t feel things normally – haven’t ever, really.

 I’ve never murdered anyone (yet), but i will certainly admit to having a lack of conscience or empathy where many things are concerned. Or, perhaps just a lack of emotion in general. My psychiatrists say it’s due to severe PTSD and trauma. As is true for many people with the disorder, as i mentioned.

The misapprehension people have, however, is that people with the disorder NEVER connect, or are incapable of it. This isn’t true. When we do connect, it’s definitely genuine and deep. We just don’t do it with many people at all. Mainly this is because we’re basically self-centered and pretty selfish. And not very “nice”. We have to work at it. We aren’t “empaths” or any of that new age crap. We don’t connect with the outside world very easily, or well. We can be manipulative. And in some cases, fairly narcissistic. Definitely overly-logical when being emotionally sympathetic is clearly called for.

 But every once in a while, i really connect with somebody. And when that happens, it’s really not easy to let go. But when i finally decide it’s time that i do, it’s like that person never existed. It’s very black and white. Again, a protective thing my brain does, i suppose.

 And God knows what I did to fuck things up with The Guy I Fell For, because that’s just it — i will do things out of my inability to be empathetic sometimes. Or patient. People will tell me that I’m sweet and kind, but really I admire those qualities in others, and try very hard to emulate them. I think I have those qualities in me sometimes, but I have to work at them. The very few people I do love bring them out in me. But even so, I fuck it up. Often. I didn’t have anything to model it after growing up, you see. So my version of compassion and normal love and affection looks rather like Helen Keller’s version of trying to describe the color blue, I rather suspect, sometimes.

 But, i digress.

So, this friend – we’ll call him The Limey (because oddly enough, he’s also living way the fuck in another country) confesses his love for me, and i realize off the bat that my emotional response is all wrong. The wheels in my head are turning in all the wrong directions. It’s a welcome distraction, and an ego boost, and i latch onto it like a drowning woman for about a day. In some ways, he’s a perfect match for me. We’re good friends. He’s single, a talented musician, whipsmart, witty, kind of an asshole in all the right ways; he’s willing to come right out and tell me how he feels. He’s incredibly attractive, and sexy as Hell. He wants me to leave the damn country with him, for fuck’s sake. All the things i so desperately want. And, yes, i do like him, a lot.

 But do i Love ™ him? No. Which comes into stark relief when he pisses me off by being a jerk to one of my friends – someone i do love (not romantically, but definitely love) and my first reaction is FUCK this Limey. I don’t even give him the benefit of the doubt.

 My emotions are so shut down at this point that i can’t even conceive of giving the Limey a chance. Him, or anyone else for that matter. Because i’m done. I’m done connecting with people for a good while. I have the very few people in my little Universe of Discourse, and that’s all i need.

 Clearly, the point here is that i’m damaged, but i’ve always been. I don’t think it means i need “help”, and i certainly am not asking for sympathy. I’m perfectly aware that i am fucked up. In fact, on one level, i’m happy to know that i’m still capable of falling for someone, as misguided as it may have been, and as hurt as i am from the way it all ended. It shows me that i do, in fact, still have a soul. That i’m capable of actually feeling something real, as opposed to my usual screwing around with abusive men — which is not love, but some weird head game i put myself through out of some need to torture myself.

 Soooo, this post digressed wildly.

 The point IS, i was flattered and moved by this friend’s declaration of love for about 48 hours before he pulled some crap that made me want to beat him over the head with a tire iron, and then i responded in my usual unsympathetic and offhand fashion because that is my default.

I’m fairly convinced at this point that i should just avoid romance altogether. I’m obviously bad at it, i pick the absolute wrong person nearly every single time, and then wonder why i’m miserable. Then i spend the next 3-4 years perfectly happy all by myself, which is just long enough to forget how miserable relationships make me. Rinse, repeat.

 Plus there’s that whole thing where i have to explain that i’ve got the Brain Cooties…or Brain Worms (thanks, Jay, for that new term), which is never a fun conversation; like, “No, dear, i’m not going to knife you in your sleep, and no, i don’t hear voices telling me to roast your spleen with a nice Chianti. At least, not usually. NO, BABE. THAT WAS A JOKE…”

 I just…i can’t.

 If i end up like one of those old ladies with her cats living with her female roommate in the boondocks collecting furballs and molding them into puppets and selling them on Etsy, then so be it. Right now, it seems like the sane choice.

 *photo of me and The Samurai – dear friend and fellow artist

[snarky-badger]

Hello, i love your work! so may i resquest a prompt with a badass/sarcastic girlfriend for eddie, like Something happen to us and eddie and venom to protect her but she kick some ass too and their shook because they want to protect her but she protect them from someone i dunno i hope that give you a better idea than mine !

This… didn’t come out the way I wanted. I rewrote it twice. Still not totally happy with it, but I’m worried I’ll ruin it if I tweak it any more.

Since Youtube doesn’t like links, copy/paste this into your browser to hear the music that inspired the fight scene: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ac4J9344s2s (It’s ‘I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight’ by Hidden Citizens)

You grinned as you stepped out of your office building and spotted Eddie leaning against a street light. He jerked as it poked, his gaze rising from his phone, a warm smile spreading over his lips when he spotted you.

Smiling, you wove through the mass of people, heels clacking on the pavement as you made your way over to him. “Hey, you! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Steel blue eyes flickered a little as a white shadow flit across them before Eddie’s smile stretched into a grin. “Thought we’d pick you up for an early supper,” he said, reaching out to take your messenger bag from your shoulder.

“Aw, you’re sweet.” You rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him, slipping a hand in under his jacket to touch his ribs, chuckling when you felt a symbiote tendril curl around your fingers and squeeze. “Lemme guess, someone’s hungry?”

“When is he not hungry?” Eddie chuckled. You snickered at the thin black tendril that rose up from his jacket collar to flick at his left ear. “Vee - not in public!”

A soft laugh left you as you pulled away. “Hi Venom. Steak or Sushi?”

“Steak,” growled out of Eddie’s throat, the man coughing a little once the alien had relinquished control of his voice.

“Steak it is,” you chuckled, smiling again when Eddie hefted your bag onto his shoulder before taking your left hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours. “So, what’d you do all day? Eat anyone interesting?”

A laugh left him. “Nothing nearly that exciting. Just lots of research for the next article the editor tossed at me. A pharmaceutical group recently upped the price of some cancer drugs by a thousand percent.”

“Ugh. Gross.”

“Yeah. Assholes. And you?”

“Oh, yes, because I lead a glamorous life as a Human Resources lackey,” you snarked, rolling your eyes. “The new program they installed is shit, to be honest. It keeps crashing and causing problems.”

“So they fixed it until it broke?”

“Yup. And it’s breaking in an fantastic way. Half of the people I talked to today haven’t been paid in three months, others got seven times their bi-weekly pay in one lump sum, and three had funds taken out of their accounts… which, technically, should be impossible, but the new program is apparently a ‘huge success’.”

“Bureaucracy at it’s finest,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes, and you chuckled as you nodded your agreement. “Well, we’re here to distract you! Good food and then a quick wardrobe change at the apartment and we’ll head down to the fair that just got set up.”

“Oooh, yay! Dibs on the shooting games! I need to shoot something.”

Eddie laughed at your enthusiasm, hand releasing yours so he could relocate his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body for a hug. “Deal.”

“Target acquired!”

“Wha–”

You and Eddie both turned towards the shout. You caught a glimpse of a trio of heavily armed people standing in the middle of the intersection before the one on the left rose their arms, silver gauntlets on their wrists glowing a little before noise, a shrieking, screaming, wall of sound hit you.

You dropped with a cry, hands clamping over your ears. The sound, horrible, high pitched, making your bones vibrate uncomfortably as it cut through your skull. People all around you clutched at their heads, some falling, some crawling for safety - though there was none to be found.

All the windows around shattered. Cars, buildings, store fronts, all exploded, sending glass flying everywhere, pelting everyone on the street and sidewalks with shrapnel.

Eddie howled in pain next to you, dropping to the ground, writhing. Blackness boiled around him as Venom uncoiled, the symbiote convulsing as the high pitched sound cut through it. Venom’s own scream, feral, raw, rose in counterpoint to Eddie’s and you could only watch, tears streaming down your face, as the ones you cared about thrashed in agony on the pavement.

The silence that followed that sonic barrage was complete and still, and you spent a moment trying to remember how to move, muscles still vibrating from the blast. Finally, you managed to shakily crawl over to Eddie, who was breathing shallowly, Venom a weakly twitching puddle beneath him.

“E-Eddie?” You saw the three start to approach out of the corner of your eye and shook your boyfriend, voice sounding distant and tinny to your no doubt damaged hearing. “Eddie!”

All around, people were scattering, running, a group nearly stampeding over you as they bolted from the trio that were slowly walking down the street, bits of broken glass crunching under their boots as they approached.

Hands shaking, you stumbled to your feet, one shoe missing. You kicked off the other pump, glass easily cutting through your pantyhose covered feet as you grabbed Eddie under the shoulders and started dragging him under an parked SUV and out of sight

The panicking group of people around you helped to hide your motions, enough that the attackers paused when they reached the spot where Eddie had fallen. You were shaking, laying flat on the dirty street under the SUV, Eddie on his back next to you, half-conscious.

“Can’t have gotten far,” one of the attackers growled, and you watched armored boots move around the side of the SUV you were hiding under. “Alien should be out of commission from that blast.”

“Thought you said it’d take him out with one blast! Where’d he go?”

“Look, I don’t know everything okay? Just what was in the portfolio. Weakness to sound and fire, that’s all it said.”

“Shouldn’t have taken this job, Mark. It stinks.”

A new voice growled out: “Fuck that. For five million dollars I’d take out my own grandmother.”

“That’s cuz you’re batshit insane, Jonah.”

You chewed on your lip, eyeing Eddie where he lay beside you as the obsidian puddle that was Venom slowly reformed around him. He moaned, eyelids fluttering, and you slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him, attention going back to watching the three sets of boots mill around as they started searching the street.

It wouldn’t be long before they spotted you. You frowned, your free hand curling into a fist, hating the lack of options.

Eddie suddenly jerked awake next to you, and you shifted your hand from his mouth to his chest, pushing him back down.

“Shh,” you hissed, meeting his gaze before glancing to the nearest set of armored boots.

He tensed, but stayed silent, tilting his head back to watch as the man stomped past the SUV, moving to investigate an alley. “When we say ‘run’,” Eddie rumbled into your ear, his voice a low growl of mixed human and alien. “Run.”

You nodded, mutely. Watched as blackness rose to cover him, Venom’s face forming close to yours, pale, opal sheened, eyes and a mouth with too many fangs settling into place.

“READY MORSEL?”

“Yeah.”

“GO.”

You scrambled out from under the SUV at the same time that Venom lifted it off it’s wheels, bolting for the shelter of a parked bus on the other side of the street. There was an unearthly roar of anger, followed by yells and screams from ‘Mark’ and ‘Jonah’, and a crunch of a car being thrown.

Glass sunk into the soles of your feet as you jumped and slid across the hood of a car in the middle of the street, the vehicle abandoned by it’s owners. You landed on the opposite side, hunkering down. Blew a loose strand of your hair out of your eyes as you peeked over the hood, watching as Venom closed a taloned hand around one of the attacker’s throats and lifted him off his feet.

A roar of pain left him seconds later as a flash grenade detonated at his feet, bits of the symbiote flaring away a little before reforming. Venom turned, and threw the man in his grasp at the one who had thrown the grenade, the two males crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Fire filled the street as the third attacker ran into the thick of things, and you winced at Venom’s shriek as flames licked at his body, bits of his symbiote form flaking off, like ashes. He leapt out range, used a tendril to rip a newspaper box off it’s moorings, then threw it.

When things started to get too close for comfort, you sucked in a breath and darted away from the car, ignoring the sharp pains cutting into your feet as you ran for the safety of an alleyway a block away.

Took cover behind a dumpster, crouching there, closing your eyes when another blast of sound made the fillings in your teeth vibrate.

You hoped Venom could handle himself. Technically, you could have done something, but fear of reprisal held you back. You didn’t think the repercussions would come from Eddie or Venom. No, you were worried about bigger things - like your life.

When you’d turned thirteen, you’d developed the ability to move things with a thought. Your parents had been horrified. Had instilled in you the knowledge that if you ever let anyone know what you could do, that you’d be taken away. That you couldn’t under any circumstances, use your powers, no matter what. So you’d kept what you could do a secret throughout high school, and then college, and then your adult life.

Now, with the Mutant Registration Act in full swing, you feared for your life. You knew what humans did to mutants: had seen far too many beatings and anti-mutant protests and hatred. The ‘Friends of Humanity’ patrolled the streets like a wave of physical hatred.

Fear kept you from trusting anyone. Fear kept you restrained.

So, you huddled, hiding, as the sounds of the battle got louder. People screamed and sobbed as Venom and the Trio fought, stragglers darting around, some stupidly taking photos with their phones while others right ran for their lives.

With every scream of the sonics, with every whoosh of fire and loud explosion of grenades, with every roar and scream of pain from Venom, you jerked as if physically hit. Guilt knawed at you, and you clenched your eyes shut, the heels of your hands pressing into your temple.

Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the ground, sending you to your knees in the grime. Bits of buildings, bricks and mortar, clattered to around you, and you curled over, hands rising to protect your head as another series of booms and bangs rattled everything. It sounded like the end of the world, like a nuclear bomb going off.

People screamed again, cars lifting off their tires, some flipping onto their sides. More sound shook the air, drowning out your own shriek of fear as everything went to hell around you. The ground rose, then slammed back down, and you cried out again as you landed hard on your chest, the breath whooshing out of you.

Distantly, as silence and stillness finally returned, you heard the sounds of triumphant whooping.

“HAH! Got ‘im! Told you land-mining the street ahead of time was worth it!”

Panting, shaking, you pushed yourself to your hands and knees, palms bloodied from scraping on the concrete. Your pant were torn at the knees, covered in grime, and you stiffly shucked out of your blazer, loosening the top three buttons of your blouse as you tried to level out your panicked breathing.

Numb, ears ringing, you stumbled to your feet, then staggered towards the street, side stepping around bits of debris. The street was decimated. Huge holes lined either side of the road, bits of concrete and asphalt peppered the ground, along with more glass. Some stores looked like they’d imploded, others were missing completely. A building across the way was missing the whole front of it - it had simply caved in. Some cars had been flattened by debris, one was one fire, and a few were blaring their alarms.

Shivering, you braced yourself against a still standing wall, and peered around it. The trio were standing in around a figure on the ground, and your heart sank when you realized that it was Eddie, his left leg broken, his right arm bent at an unnatural angle. Venom was pooled under him, trembling, and you growled when one of the thugs aimed a flamethrower at the leading edge of the symbiote and literally burnt it off with a burst of fire.

Your life, or the life of the man (and symbiote) that you loved?

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails cutting into your palms as your knuckles went white.

You didn’t have the luxury of fear anymore.

Eddie groaned, pain, sharp and white hot, bombarding him. One leg was definitely fucked up, and one of his arms was just a blur of agony. Things weren’t too good with his head either, he had trouble focusing his eyes, and his thoughts seemed decidedly… slippery.

The place where Venom usually lived in his brain was frighteningly quiet, and he frowned, tasting blood as he licked his lips, voice croaking out. “V-Venom?”

A voice snorted laughter at him. “Sorry, asshole. Your alien buddy is down for the count.”

Another chuckled. “Easiest five mil I ever made.”

He groaned again, trying to sit up, good arm shaking as he tried to heft himself up, only to cry out when the butt of a gun smacked into his forehead. Stars and blackness exploded across his vision, consciousness wavering, and Eddie felt hands grab him, felt new pain as he was dragged down the street. His still working hand slid through a familiar viscous mass, and he curled his fingers into the symbiote, slurring Venom’s name again.

“Wait. What the fuck is that?”

“What the fuck is what?”

Dimly, Eddie felt it. The ground, vibrating, like an earthquake, but more drawn out. As if a train was rumbling by. He rolled his head on his shoulders, blinking through the blood in his eyes, and joined his three attackers in trying to figure out what was going on.

He caught sight of you before they did. Blinked again, trying to focus, as you kept walking towards them, slowly, steadily. Your business outfit was torn, blood, dust, dirt and grime marring your clothes, feet bloodied from walking on bits of glass and debris.

“Who’s that?”

“Who the fuck cares? She’s a witness. Fry her.”

Eddie thrashed, trying to get loose. Howled when the one on the left returned the attempt with a kick to his head. His skull rebounded against some debris, vision going black, and he groaned, curling into himself, good hand rising to cover the bleeding gash he’d just gained.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” the one with the flamethrower leered as he stepped forward. “You look a little hot!”

“No!” Eddie screamed as fire exploded from the odd gun the thug was holding, washing forward like a tsunami. Saw it engulf you, the flames hot enough to made the paint on nearby cars turn black from the heat and start to peel. He fought, screaming obscenities, lashing out with his good leg and making contact.

The goon with the sonic gauntlets went down with a curse when his knee was kicked in, landing on Eddie with the intention of beating him senseless. Rage took over as Eddie fought back, grappling, beating on the other man with his good fist, until one of the others still standing kicked his broken leg right where it had snapped in half.

His vision went black from pain. Heaving, Eddie curled into himself, receiving a knee to the ribs as the thug he’d kicked gave him a final hit before staggering to his feet again.

He heard a curse of surprise, heard more footsteps. Managed to crack an eye open in time to see the trio start to back away. Frowning, he tilted his head back as far as he could, blinking through his swollen eyes in shock.

You were standing in the center of a circular unburnt patch, the only signs that fire had been involved the chaos around you, burnt cars, smouldering asphalt that was partially melted from the heat.

Eyes narrowed, you stepped forward, ignoring the sizzling stench of your skin burning as you walked across hot concrete. Everything vibrated around you as your powers uncurled from you in waves, making bits of debris rattle on the ground.

Eddie blinked up at you as you reached him, pausing to look down at him with glowing eyes. “B-Babe?” he croaked, shivering when the glow faded a little, as you gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile before raising your gaze back to the Trio, breathing deep as you stepped in front of Eddie’s crumpled form.

The Trio didn’t bother with any quips or conversation. Merely opened fire, flames and the scream of sonics filling the air.

Eddie grimaced, bracing himself for more pain, eyes widening when you rose a hand to the side, fingers curling a little. A heavily damaged car rose off it’s tires and flew between you and the oncoming attacks. Metal groaned, the frame buckling inwards, as it acted like a barrier, absorbing fire and the sonic barrage. 

You waited for a lull in the attacks before making a shoving motion, sending the car flying forwards. It cartwheeled through the street, sending the Trio diving for cover. You sent an SUV and a pickup truck after it, aiming to crush the opposition outright, eyes narrowing as you reached down, into the ground.

More concrete buckled, ripping free, chunks rising into the air as you took hold of them. Another thought had slivers of glass gathering together into sharpened spikes, your makeshift weapons floating in the air around you, held aloft by your thoughts alone.

Only two of the attackers rose out from the destruction from the vehicles, and Eddie propped himself up on his good arm as you took aim, sending a chunk of concrete after the one with the flamethrower and three spikes after the one with the sonic gauntlets.

Fire was useless against rock. The concrete flew through the wave of flames aimed at it and hit the man right in the chest. He died seconds later when a razor sharp spike of glass sunk into his face.

The other man had thrown himself to the side, rolling out of the way of the spikes you’d sent after him, and Eddie watched as you made a gesture, one of the other chunks of concrete floating nearby shooting forward. It forced the thug to abandon his hiding spot as the heavy chunk flattened the small Mazda he’d been hunkering behind.

He darted across the street, arms raised, more sonics screaming out from those odd gauntlets he wore. You mentally wrenched a nearby car door off it’s hinges, seeing the metal buckle as you used it as a shield. The second the sound stopped, you sent half a dozen spikes at him; five at chest level, one at his feet.

He deflected five, but not the sixth that sunk into his right foot, pinning him to the ground. Finally still long enough for you to focus on him, you mentally reached out and snapped his neck, his head spinning all the way around before he dropped, dead, to the ground.

“That’s quite enough of that.”

Eddie grimaced as he jerked his head to the side, following your startled gaze as the two of you stared at the third goon, and you grit your teeth when the man rose his arms, the pair of sonic gauntlets he wore glinting in the light before he activated them.

Being hit point blank was like having a bomb go off in your head. You screamed, dropping to the ground, your telekinetic hold on the concrete chunks and shards of glass failing as the shriek of sound cut through your brain. Eddie convulsed next to you, the symbiote boiling and undulating in agony.

Panic took over, and you lashed out.

Everything exploded.

The thug died on impact as the blast picked him up and sent him flying across the street to impact with a building wall with bone breaking force. Recurrent waves of power rolled off of you, over and over, concrete buckling, cars being sent flying, buildings cracking on their foundations. Garbage and debris swirled around, forming an impassable barrier.

Eddie groaned, reaching out, fingers touching your arm before curling around your wrist. Everything beyond a ten foot radius around the two of you was falling apart under a constant barrage of unfocused power, the ground cracking and splitting under the stress. “Babe. Babe, s’okay. S’over! Babe!”

The shout, along with the grip on your wrist, jolted you, eyes snapping open, blinking a few times before you focused on Eddie’s bloodied face.

As soon as your mind calmed, everything settled. Cars slammed to the ground, debris dropping all around you like rain. You gasped, breath hitching in your throat as tears gathered in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t– I lost control–”

“It’s okay,” Eddie rasped, forcing a smile when you crawled over to him and leaned down to press your forehead to his. “You kick some serious ass when you’re pissed.”

A watery laugh left you, and you kissed him, gently. “You look like shit.”

“Feel like shit, too.” A grunt left him as he forced himself to sit up, and you frowned as you helped him, your gaze landing on the mass of black, viscous, symbiote under him. “Ahhh shit. Ribs.”

“Venom– I-Is he?”

“No clue. Can’t feel him.” He reached down into the obsidian puddle under him, frowning as he sank his fingers into the mass. Felt it vibrate a little against his skin, and look up at you with a crooked smile when the symbiote slowly, painfully slowly, sunk into his skin. “Down but not out.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Good.”

Sirens caught both of your attentions, and you frowned as police, fire trucks and ambulances appeared at the intersection. People appeared from everywhere, sticking their heads out of stores and alleys and doorways before mobbing the response teams.

You looked away and refocused on Eddie, who was pale under the patina of dirt and blood. Sighing, you dropped down to sit next to him, leaning your head against his when he slumped against you. “Don’t think Vee’s going to appreciate hospital food though.”

He managed a tired, weak, huff of laughter. “That’s because it’s not real food.”

A smile tugged at your lips for a moment before fading. “Think I’ll get arrested?”

“Don’t know. Though if anyone connects me with Venom, I might be joining you.”

“Shit.”

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry… for not telling you,” you murmured as the throng of police and EMTs neared the two of you. “I should have. You trusted me, and I was too much of a coward to reciprocate.”

His good hand sought out yours and you shivered when his fingers curled around yours tightly. “S’okay. Promise. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Overruled.”

A tired laugh left you. “You’ve been watching too many court dramas again.”

“Vee’s fault.”

“Of course it is.”

[heinretic]

They'd been talking for hours now, filling each other in on the bits and bobbles of their life that fell between the cracks of letters. Div made Heinwald talk more, all things considered- between the Inquisition and husband and children, it was almost like he lived another life entirely. How dare he bore them with talk of research when he lived a life of drama and mystique one could only experience in fiction?!

All the while, Devinacus couldn't help but stare. Heinwald paid it no mind, attributing it simply to the years gone by and the constant state of disbelief since their arrival. He himself never took his eyes away from his old friend, minding the signs of wear that would never have dreamed their way to their flawless completion those many years ago. Still beautiful, divine as the name implied, but older. 

He paid it no mind until the question finally escaped them, "What happened to your face?" 

Heinwald scoffed, “Now, that’s hardly a thing to ask someone you haven’t seen in about a decade, don’t you --”

“Heinwald.” 

Silence hung between them, still and heavy, before Devinacus speaks again, softer this time, nearly teasing, “You’re stalling up a lie. Come on, just tell me!”

They were right, of course. Truths flowed as a river. Damnable lies took time to construct. Damnable truths still hurt to say, yet they flowed a lot easier than he expected,  “I’m dying, Div.”

There’s a smaller beat of silence before the musician laughed a tad, clearly forcing their chuckle, “Now’s not the time for jests, Hein. Don’t be dramatic.”

Stoic tone, hard eyes, “I’m not.”

And another, even more forced laughter, “Really? You’ve said yourself- you cheat death!”

“For my mice. Humans are complicated.”

By Ilia, they couldn’t be having this conversation, could they? Div’s brows furrowed, grasping at straws, “You may as well be a mouse at this point, with all that crawling around in the dark you and your husband do-”

“Div.”

“-which you also failed to mention, again. Did I say that already? I’m sure I did, but I seem to be getting forgetful, since you surely told me you were married, or if you were really dying.”

“Div.”

“-Because friends tell each other these things. But you can’t--”

Heinwald slammed his cane against the floor, “Devinacus.”

They recoiled at the name, sinking back into their chair as though it would protect them. Their voice was small when they spoke again, "I hate it when you say that." 

"It's your name.” Heinwald huffed, “You picked it yourself." 

They shook their head, "if I'm not Div, I'm in trouble-" 

"You're not in trouble--"

"You just said you're dying, Hein! Of course I'm in trou-!"

Hein shot forward in his seat, hand raised. Silence hung between them yet again, but it was measured, attentive, listening. Devinacus broke it with a realization, leaning forward in their own chair to meet him, "you haven't told them?"

"Of course I have.... to an extent." 

Now it was Div’s turn to snap, “Heinwald!”

Heinwald waved his hand in another motion of pleading, begging them to hush. “The children each have enough on their plate than to wrestle with the inevitable, and Curran- goddess's sweet fool- still thinks I can be saved" 

"Well, can't you?" They pleaded, "for-- for the stars that shine, Hein- it’s- you! You can fix-- you can-"

It was only then when they noticed the purple laced within their dear friend’s hand. When they noticed the stitch along his neck, bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. When they noticed the effort it took Heinwald to stand from his chair, reliant on his cane- what used to be just a staff for magics- and the fair bit of effort it took to shake the cloak from his shoulders. And the coat- by the goddess, with a long sleeve underneath? Layers in this weather? 

Any other day, watching Heinwald shed his shirt would have been a blessing, but those any other days were still hanging in their memory. Bygone days of youthful health, stained now by rotting, stitched flesh. 

Devinacus screamed. 

It escaped them, slipping past their hands as they clasped it around their mouth to stop another sound. At least the researcher didn’t look offended by the noise. If anything, he looked.......sorry.

“I’ve done everything I can.”

While they were certainly no doctor, it didn’t take an expert to figure out that all of........that- was not good. A thousand and one questions danced in their mind, swimming across their vision as Heinwald collected his discarded clothing with a grunt, falling back into his chair with another. There wasn’t a right way to have this conversation, but whatever he just did- well it was far from the best way! How could he just.....lie! About being married! About children! About being fine- HEALTHY even! Heinwald had written healthy! 

Div’s tongue finally untied itself, “You haven’t told anyone?”

Hein shook his head. 

There were more straws to grasp, so they took the one that made the most sense, “How....long...?”

The detective pulled on his coat, ruffled behind him in his chair at the bottom, “Depends. If the sickness takes me, I could be dead tomorrow. If it’s the meat of the problem- if the rot progresses far enough, I’d say five years.”

Div’s heart sank, “Hein, love- I’m so sorry--.”

Silence. 

“-but...you can’t just.....”

“You’ll not breathe a word of this to my family.”

Family. That wasn’t a word they heard in a long while. “If you don’t know how long, there still may be-”

“I’ve tried everything, Devinacus. Everything. I don’t know what else I could do.”

“Ask for help!”

“You’re not telling them.”

Div stood, slender frame looming over Hein’s, “For fuck’s sake, Heinwald! Tell your family you’re dying before you kill them!” 

The threat was lost to him, though it did pique the man’s interest in the midst of a rather infuriating and uncomfortable conversation, “It’s not contagious, D-”

They groaned, “No, yo- you can’t be serious.”

Hein’s brow raised.

“Your- you- damn it, Heinwald, if you don’t, and you just- if you just die, it would ruin them! It would ruin me. Wh- in what backwards world does keeping something like this-” It clicked, running their thoughts into overdrive, “it’s why you didn’t mention them, isn’t it? You’ve been- for- how long have you been-”

“A long while. Since we graduated, basically.”

“And- and you- and not once--”

Heinwald sighed, sinking further into his chair to rub at the side of his head with his arm perched on the side of the chair, “And have you doing this for the past fifteen odd years? Have my husband? The girls? Prattle on about impossibilities and regrets and heartache? I’d rather not.”

Div’s hands flew up into their hair, grasping for something other than straws, because by the Goddess they weren’t helping this dumpster fire. “Hein--! You can’t--! They love you! I- I love you- and you can’t-”

“Hurt you.”

Div’s hands slid down the side of their head slowly, falling and falling until they were limp on their sides. Hein eyed them carefully before speaking again, “I didn’t want to hurt you, Div. I don’t want any of you to.”

Devinacus sunk their teeth into their lip, breathing in deeply through their nose, “It still does, Hein, but it would have hurt less if you’d-”

“You don’t know t-”

“I do!” They screamed. Echoes be damned. Secrets be damned! “Damn it, Heinwald, I do! I would have had time! There would have been time! What if I could have helped? You don’t know I couldn’t! You can’t, because you- you didn’t even think to try! That you couldn’t do it by yourself? That you could- could leave us all behind and that was it, huh? That we- we’re- we’re left with the what if- if you just- just said-said something!”

Tears struck the floor below, scratching the rant from their throat with a sob. 

Any other day, having Heinwald wrap his arms around them would have been a blessing, but those any other days were still hanging in their memory. Bygone days, now whittled to dust. Tomorrow? Next year? The year after? Five was so small. 

They felt so small.